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IN  MEMORIAL 

John  Galen  Howard 

1864-1951 


LECTURES 

ON    THE 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 


BY 

G.  W   F.  HEGEL 


TRANSLATED   BY 


J.    SIBREE,    M.A, 


LONDON : 
G.   BELL    AND    SONS,    LTD. 

1914. 


[Iteprinted  from  Stereotype  plates.] 


Add  to  lib." 

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TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 


HEGEL'S  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  History  are  recog* 
nized  in  Germany  as  a  popular  introduction  to  his  system  ; 
their  form  is  less  rigid  than  the  generality  of  metaphysical  trea- 
tises^  and  the  illustrations,  which  occupy  a  large  proportion  of 
the  work,  are  drawn  from  a  field  of  observation  more  familiar 
perhaps,  than  any  other,  to  those  who  have  not  devoted 
much  time  to  metaphysical  studies.  One  great  value  of  the 
work  is  that  it  presents  the  leading  facts  of  History  from  an 
altogether  novel  point  of  view.  And  when  it  is  considered 
that  the  writings  of  Hegel  have  exercised  a  marked  influence 
on  the  political  movements  of  Germany,  it  will  be  admitted 
that  his  theory  of  the  universe,  especially  that  part  which 
bears  directly  upon  politics,  deserves  attention  even  from 
those  who  are  the  most  exclusive  advocates  of  the  '  practical.' 

A  writer  who  has  established  his  claim  to  be  regarded  as 
an  authority,  by  the  life  which  he  has  infused  into  metaphy- 
sical abstractions,  has  pronounced  the  work  before  us,  "one 
of  the  pleasantest  books  on  the  subject  he  ever  read."* 

And  compared  with  that  of  most  German  writers,  even 
the  style  may  claim  to  be  called  vigorous  and  pointed.  If 
therefore  in  its  English  dress  the  Philosophy  of  History 
should  be  found  deficient  in  this  respect,  the  fault  must  not 
be  attributed  to  the  original. 

It  has  been  the  aim  of  the  translator  to  present  his  author 

•  Mi.  G.  H.  Lewes  in  his  Blow.  Hist,  of  Philosophy,  Vol.  IV.  Ed  184 L 


IV  PEEl'ACE. 

to  the  public  in  a  really  English  form,  even  at  the  cost 
of  a  circumlocution  which  must  sometimes  do  injustice  to 
the  merits  of  the  original.  A  few  words  however  have 
necessarily  heen  used  in  a  rather  unusual  sense  ;  and  one  of 
them  is  of  very  frequent  occurrence.  The  German  *  Geist,' 
in  Hegel's  nomenclature,  includes  both  Intelligence  and 
"Will,  the  latter  even  more  expressly  than  the  former.  It 
embraces  in  fact  man's  entire  mental  and  moral  being,  and  a 
little  reflection  will  make  it  obvious  that  no  term  in  our 
metaphysical  vocabulary  could  have  been  well  substituted 
for  the  more  theological  one,  *  Spirit,'  as  a  fair  equivalent- 
It  is  indeed  only  the  impersonal  and  abstract  use  of  the 
term  that  is  open  to  objection ;  an  objection  which  can  be 
met  by  an  appeal  to  the  best  classical  usage  ;  viz.  the  ren- 
dering of  the  Hebrew  nvi  and  Greek  Trrevpa  in  the  Author- 
ized Version  of  the  Scriptures.  One  indisputable  instance 
may  suffice  in  confirmation :  "  Their  horses  (i.e.  of  the  Egyp- 
tians) are  flesh  and  not  spirit."  (Isaiah  xxxi.  3.)  It  is 
pertinent  to  remark  here,  that  the  comparative  disuse  of  this 
term  in  English  metaphysical  literature,  is  one  result  of  that 
alienation  of  theology  from  philosophy  with  which  conti- 
nental writers  of  the  most  opposite  schools  agree  in  taxing 
the  speculative  genius  of  Britain — an  alienation  which 
mainly  accounts  for  the  gulf  separating  English  from  Ger- 
man speculation,  and  which  will,  it  is  feared,  on  other  ac- 
counts also  be  the  occasion  of  communicating  a  somewhat 
uninviting  aspect  to  the  following  pages. 

The  distinction  which  the  Germans  make  between  '  Sitt- 
lichkeit'  and  'Moralitat,'  has  presented  another  difficulty. 
The  former  denotes  Conventional  Morality,  the  latter  that  of 
the  Heart  or  Conscience.  Where  no  ambiguity  was  likely 


PREFACE.  V 

to  arise,  both  terms  have  been  translated  '  Morality.*     In 
other  cases  a  stricter  rendering  has  been  given,  modified  by 
the  requirements  of  the  context.     The  word  '  Moment*  is, 
as  readers  of  Q-erman  philosophy  are  aware,  a  veritable  crux 
to  the  translator.     In  Mr.  J.  B.  MoreLL's  very  valuable  edi- 
tion of  Johnson's  IVausiatiGii  :£  Tennemann's  *  Manual  of 
the  History  of  Philosophy/   (Bonn's  Philos.  Library),  the 
following  explanation  is  given :  "  This  term  was  borrowed 
from  Mechanics  by  Hegel  (see  his  Wissenschaft  der  Logik, 
vol.  3.  p.  104.  ed.  1841.)     He  employs  it  to  denote  the  con- 
tending forces  which  are  mutually  dependent,  and  whose 
contradiction  forms  an  equation.    Hence  his  formula,  Esse— 
Nothing.     Here  Esse  and  Nothing  are  momentums,  giving 
birth  to  Werden,  i.e.  Existence.     Thus  the  momentum  con- 
tributes to  the  same  oneness  of  operation  in  contradictory 
forces  that  we  see  in  mechanics,   amidst  contrast  and  diver- 
sity, in  weight  and  distance,  in  the  case  of  the  balance." 
But  in  several  parts  of  the  work  before  us  this  definition  is 
not  strictly  adhered  to,  and  the  Translator  believes  he  has 
done  justice  to  the  original  in  rendering  the  word  by  '  Suc- 
cessive' or  'Organic  Phase.'   In  the  chapter  on  the  Crusades 
another  term  occurs  which  could  not  be  simply  rendered  into 
English.     The  definite,  positive,  and  present  embodiment  of 
Essential  Being  is  there  spoken  of  as  '  ein  Dieses?   '  das 
Dieses,'  &c.,  literally  'a  This,'  'the  This,'  for  which  repulsive 
combination  a  periphrasis  has  been  substituted,  which,  it  is 
believed,  is  not  only  accurate  but  expository.     Paraphrastic 
additions,  however,  have  been,  in  fairness  to  the  reader,  en- 
closed in  brackets  [  ] ;  and  the  philosophical  appropriation 
of  ordinary  terms  is  generally  indicated   by  capitals,   e.y. 
•  Spirit,'  '  Freedom,'  '  State,'  '  Nature,'  &c. 


PREFACE. 


imagination,  —  to  class  them  with  the  other  absurdities  with 
which  the  abortive  past  of  Humanity  is  by  some  thought  to 
be  only  too  replete  ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  regard  them 
as  the  rudimentary  teachings  of  that  Essential  Intelligence 
in  which  man's  intellectual  and  moral  life  originates.  With 
Hegel  they  are  the  objective  manifestation  of  infinite  Reason 
—  the  first  promptings  of  Him  who  having  "  made  of  one 
blood  all  nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
hath  determined  the  times  before  appointed,  and  the  bounds 
of  their  habitation,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  and  find 
him."  --  ov  yap  KCLI  ytvog  ifffiiv.  And  it  is  these  KCIIOOI  irpo- 
r«  ay  pivot,  these  determined  and  organic  epochs  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world  that  Hegel  proposes  to  distinguish  and 
develop  in  the  following  treatise. 

"Whatever  view  may  be  entertained  as  to  the  origin  or 
importance  of  those  elementary  principles,  and  by  whatever 
general  name  they  may  be  called  —  Spontaneous,  Primary,  or 
Objective  Intelligence  —  it  seems  demonstrable  that  it  is  in 
some  sense  or  other  to  its  own  belief,  its  own  Reason  or 
essential  being,  that  imperfect  humanity  is  in  bondage  ; 
while  the  perfection  of  social  existence  is  commonly  regarded 
as  a  deliverance  from  that  bondage.  In  the  Hegelian  sys- 
tem, this  paradoxical  condition  is  regarded  as  one  phase  of 
that  antithesis  which  is  presented  in  all  spheres  of  existence, 
between  the  Subjective  and  the  Objective,  but  which  it  is 
the  result  of  the  natural  and  intellectual  processes  that  con- 
stitute the  life  of  the  universe,  to  annul  by  merging  into  one 
absolute  existence.  And  however  startling  this  theory  may 
be  as  applied  to  other  departments  of  nature  and  intelli- 
gence, it  appears  to  be  no  unreasonable  formula  for  the 
course  of  civilization,  and  ^hich  is  substantially  aa  follows  : 


1BEFACE.  H 

In  less  cultivated  nations,  political  and  moral  restrictions 
are  looked  upon  as  objectively  posited  ;  the  constitution  of 
&ociety,  like  the  world  of  natural  objects,  is  regarded  as 
something  into  which  a  man  is  inevitably  born ;  and  the 
individual  feels  himself  bound  to  comply  with  requirements 
of  whose  justice  or  propriety  he  is  not  allowed  to  judge, 
though  they  often  severely  test  his  endurance,  and  even  de- 
mand the  sacrifice  of  his  life.  In  a  state  of  high  civiliza- 
tion, on  the  contrary,  though  an  equal  self-sacrifice  be  called 
for,  it  is  in  respect  of  laws  and  institutions  which  are  felt 
to  be  just  and  desirable.  This  change  of  relation  may, 
without  any  very  extraordinary  use  of  terms,  or  extravagance 
of  speculative  conceit,  be  designated  the  harmonization  or 
reconciliation  of  Objective  and  Subjective  intelligence.  The 
successive  phases  which  humanity  has  assumed  in  passing 
from  that  primitive  state  of  bondage  to  this  condition  of 
.Rational  Freedom  form  the  chief  subject  of  the  following 
lectures. 

The  mental  and  moral  condition  of  individuals  and  their 
social  and  religions  conditions  (the  subjective  and  objective 
manifestations  of  E-eason)  exhibit  a  strict  correspondence 
with  each  other  in  every  grade  of  progress.  "  They  that 
make  them  are  like  unto  them,"  is  as  true  of  religious  and 
political  ideas  as  of  religious  and  political  idols.  Where 
man  sets  no  value  on  that  part  of  his  mental  and  moral  life 
which  makes  him  superior  to  the  brutes,  brute  life  will  be  an 
object  of  worship  and  bestial  sensuality  will  be  the  genius 
of  the  ritual.  Where  mere  inaction  is  the  finis  bonorum, 
absorption  in  Nothingness  will  be  the  aim  of  the  devotee. 
Where,  on  the  contrary,  active  and  vigorous  virtue  is  recog. 
nized  as  constituting  the  real  value  of  man— where  sub- 

6 


X  PEEFACE. 

jective  spirit  has  learned  to  assert  its  own  Freedom,  both 
against  irrational  and  unjust  requirements  from  without,  and 
caprice,  passion,  and  sensuality,  from  within,  it  will  demand 
a  living,  acting,  just,  and  holy,  embodiment  of  Deity  as  the 
only  possible  object  of  its  adoration.  In  the  same  degree, 
political  principles  also  will  be  affected.  Where  mere  Na- 
ture predominates,  no  legal  relations  will  be  acknowledged 
but  those  based  on  natural  distinction;  rights  will  be 
inexorably  associated  with  '  caste.'  Where,  on  the  other 
hand,  Spirit  has  attained  its  Freedom,  it  will  require  a  code 
of  laws  and  a  political  constitution,  in  which  the  rational 
subordination  of  nature  to  reason  that  prevails  in  its  own 
being,  and  the  strength  it  feels  to  resist  sensual  seductions 
shall  be  distinctly  mirrored. 

Between  the  lowest  and  highest  grades  of  intelligence 
and  will,  there  are  several  intervening  stages,  around  which 
a  complex  of  derivative  ideas,  and  of  institutions,  arts,  and 
sciences,  in  harmony  with  them,  are  aggregated.  Each  of 
these  aggregates  has  acquired  a  name  in  history  as  a  dis- 
tinct nationality.  Where  the  distinctive  principle  is  losing 
its  vigour,  as  the  result  of  the  expansive  force  of  mind  of 
which  it  was  only  the  temporary  embodiment,  the  national 
life  declines,  and  we  have  the  transition  to  a  higher  grade, 
in  which  a  comparatively  abstract  and  limited  phase  of 
subjective  intelligence  and  will, — to  which  corresponds  an 
equally  imperfect  phase  of  objective  Reason, — is  exchanged 
for  one  more  concrete,  and  rigorous — one  which  developes 
human  capabilities  more  freely  and  fully,  and  in  which  Bight 
is  more  adequately  comprehended. 

The  goal  of  this  contention  is,  as  already  indicated,  tlie 
realization,  the  complete  development  of  Spirit,  whose 


PREFACE.  .  H 

proper  nature  is  Freedom — Freedom  in  both  senses  of  the 
term,  i.e.  liberation  from  outward  control — inasmuch  as  the 
law  to  which  it  submits  has  its  own  explicit  sanction, — and 
emancipation  from  the  inward  slavery  of  lust  and  passion. 

The  above  remarks  are  not  designed  to  afford  anything 
like  a  complete  or  systematic  analysis  of  Hegel's  Philosophy 
of  History,  but  simply  to  indicate  its  leading  conception, 
and  if  possible  to  contribute  something  towards  removing  a 
prejudice  against  it  on  the  score  of  its  resolving  facts  into 
mystical  paradoxes,  or  attempting  to  construe  them  a  priori. 
In  applying  the  theory,  some  facts  may  not  improbably  have 
been  distorted,  some  brought  into  undue  prominence,  and 
others  altogether  neglected.  In  the  most  cautious  and 
limited  analysis  of  the  Past,  failures  and  perversions  of  this 
kind  are  inevitable :  and  a  comprehensive  view  of  History  is 
proportionately  open  to  mistake.  But  it  is  another  question 
whether  the  principles  applied  in  this  work  to  explain  the 
course  which  civilization  has  followed,  are  a  correct  inference 
from  historical  facts,  and  afford  a  reliable  clue  to  the  ex- 
planation of  their  leading  aspects. 

The  translator  would  remark,  in  conclusion,  that  the  c<  In- 
troduction" will  probably  be  found  the  most  tedious  and 
difficult  part  of  the  treatise ;  he  would  therefore  suggest  a 
cursory  reading  of  it  in  the  first  instance,  and  a  second 
perusal  as  a  resume  of  principles  which  are  more  completely 
illustrated  in  the  body  of  the  work. 

J.  S. 

UPPER  GP.ANGE,  STROUD, 
Nov.  25th,  1857. 


Xli 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


THE  first  question  that  suggests  itself  on  the  publication 
of  a  new  Philosophy  of  History  is  why,  of  all  the  depart- 
ments of  so-called  Practical  Philosophy,  this  should  have 
been  the  latest  cultivated  and  the  least  adequately  discussed. 
For  it  was  not  until  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century 
that  Vico  made  the  first  attempt  to  substitute  for  that 
view  of  History  which  regarded  it  either  as  a  succession  of 
fortuitous  occurrences,  or  as  the  supposed  but  not  clearly 
recognized  work  of  Grod,  a  conception  of  it  as  an  embodiment 
of  primordial  laws,  and  a  product  of  Reason — a  theory  which 
so  far  from  contravening  the  moral  freedom  of  humanity, 
posits  the  only  conditions  in  which  that  freedom  can  be  de- 
veloped. 

This  fact  can  however  be  explained  in  a  few  brief  observa- 
tions. The  laws  of  Being  and  Thought,  the  economy  of 
Nature,  the  phenomena  of  the  human  soul,  even  legal  and 
political  organisms ;  nor  less  the  forms  of  Art  and  the  ac- 
knowledged manifestations  of  Grod  in  other  modes  have  always 
passed  for  stable  and  immutable  existences,  if  not  as  far  as 
subjective  views  of  them  are  concerned,  yet  certainly  in  their 
objective  capacity.  It  is  otherwise  with  the  movements  of 
History.  The  extrinsic  contingency  which  predominates  in 
the  rise  and  fall  of  empires  and  of  individuals,  the  triumphs 
of  vice  over  virtue,  the  confession  sometimes  extorted,  that 
tli ere  have  been  instances  in  which  crimes  have  been  pro- 
ductive of  the  greatest  advantage  to  mankind,  and  that  muta- 
bility which  must  be  regarded  as  the  inseparable  companion 
of  human  fortunes,  tend  to  keep  up  the  belief  that  History 
stands  on  such  a  basis  of  shifting  caprice,  on  such  an  uncer- 
tain fire-vomiting  volcano,  that  every  endeavour  to  discover 
rules,  ideas,  the  Divine  and  Eternal  here,  may  be  justly  con- 
demned as  an  attempt  to  insinuate  adventitious  subtleties, 
a*  the  bubble-blowing  of  a  priori  construction  or  a  vain 


PREFACE    TO   THE    FIRST   EDITION.  *ili 

play  of  imagination.  "While  men  do  not  hesitate  to  admire 
God  in  the  objects  of  Nature,  it  is  deemed  almost  blasphemy 
to  recognize  him  in  human  exertions  and  human  achieve- 
ments ;  it  is  supposed  to  be  an  exaltation  of  the  disconnected 
results  of  caprice— results  which  a  mere  change  of  humour 
might  have  altered — above  their  proper  value,  to  suppose  a 
principle  underlying  them  for  which  the  passions  of  their 
authors  left  no  room  in  their  own  minds.  In  short,  men 
revolt  from  declaring  the  products  of  Free-Will  and  of  the 
human  spirit  to  be  eternal,  because  they  involve  only  one 
element  of  stability  and  consistency — the  advance  amid  con- 
stant mutability  to  a  richer  and  more  fully  developed  cha- 
racter. An  important  advance  in  Thought  was  required,  a 
filling  up  of  the  "wide  gulf"  that  separates  Necessity  from 
Liberty,  before  a  guiding  hand  could  be  demonstrated  as  well 
as  recognized  in  this  most  intractable  because  most  unstable 
element — before  a  Government  of  the  World  in  the  History 
of  the  World  could  be,  not  merely  asserted  but  indicated, 
and  Spirit  be  regarded  as  no  more  abandoned  by  God  than 
Nature.  Before  this  could  be  done,  a  series  of  millenniums 
must  roll  away :  the  work  of  the  human  spirit  must  reach  a 
high  degree  of  perfection,  before  that  point  of  view  can  be 
attained,  from  which  a  comprehensive  survey  of  its  career  is 
possible.  Only  now,  when  Christendom  has  elaborated  an 
outward  embodiment  for  its  inward  essence,  in  the  form  of 
civilized  and  free  states,  has  the  time  arrived  not  merely 
for  a  History  based  on  Philosophy,  but  for  the  Philosophy 
of  History. 

One  other  remark  must  not  be  withheld,  and  which  is  per- 
haps adapted  to  reconcile  even  the  opponents  of  Philosophy, 
at  least  to  convince  them  that  in  the  ideal  comprehension  of 
History,  the  original  facts  are  not  designed  to  be  altered  or 
violence  of  any  kind  done  them.  The  remark  in  question  has 
reference  to  what  is  regarded  as  belonging  to  Philosophy  in 
these  events.  Not  every  trifling  occurrence,  not  every  phe- 
nomenon pertaining  rather  to  the  sphere  of  individual  life 
than  to  the  course  of  the  World-Spirit,  is  to  be  "  construed," 
as  it  is  called,  and  robbed  of  its  life  and  substance  by  a 
withering  formula.  There  is  nothing  more  alien  to  intelli- 
gence, and  consequently  nothing  more  ridiculous  than  the 
descending  to  that  micrology  which  attempts  to  explain  in- 


Xi7  PREFACE    TC 

different  matters — which  endeavours  to  represent  that  as 
necessitated  which  might  have  been  decided  in  one  way 
quite  as  well  as  in  another,  and  of  which  in  either  case,  he 
who  presumes  to  construe  the  occurrence  in  question,  would 
have  found  an  explanation.  Philosophy  is  degraded  by  this 
mechanical  application  of  its  noblest  organs,  while  a  recon- 
ciliation with  those  who  occupy  themselves  with  its  empirical 
details  is  thereby  rendered  impossible.  What  is  left  for 
Philosophy  to  claim  as  its  own,  consists  not  in  the  demon- 
stration of  the  necessity  of  all  occurrences, — in  regard  to 
which,  on  the  contrary,  it  may  content  itself  with  mere  nar- 
ration,— but  rather  in  removing  that  veil  of  obscurity  which 
conceals  the  fact  that  every  considerable  aggregate  of  nations, 
every  important  stadium  of  History  has  an  idea  as  its  basis, 
and  that  all  the  transitions  and  developments  which  the 
annals  of  the  past  exhibit  to  us,  can  be  referred  to  the  events 
that  preceded  them.  In  this  artistic  union  of  the  merely 
descriptive  element  on  the  one  hand,  with  that  which  aspires 
to  the  dignity  of  speculation,  on  the  other  hand,  will  lie  the 
real  value  of  a  Philosophy  of  History. 

Again,  the  treatises  on  the  Philosophy  of  History  that 
have  appeared  within  the  last  hundred  years  or  thereabouts 
differ  in  the  point  of  view  from  which  they  have  been  com- 
posed, vary  with  the  national  character  of  their  respective 
authors,  and  lastly,  are  often  mere  indications  of  a  Philoso- 
phy of  History  than  actual  elaborations  of  it.  For  we  must 
at  the  outset  clearly  distinguish  Philosophies  from  Theosovhies, 
wrhich  latter  resolve  all  events  directly  into  God,  while  the  for- 
mer unfold  the  manifestation  of  God  in  the  real  world.  More- 
over, it  is  evident  that  the  Philosophies  of  History  which  have 
appeared  among  the  Italians  and  the  French,  have  but  little 
connection  with  a  general  system  of  thought,  as  constituting 
one  of  its  organic  constituents  ;  and  that  their  views,  though 
often  correct  and  striking,  cannot  demonstrate  their  own 
inherent  necessity.  Lastly,  much  has  often  been  introduced 
into  the  Philosophy  of  History  that  has  been  of  a  mysti- 
cal, rhapsodical  order,  that  has  not  risen  above  a  mere 
fugitive  hint,  an  undeveloped  fundamental  idea ;  and  though 
in  many  cases  the  great  merit  of  such  contributions  can- 
not be  denied,  their  place  would  be  only  in  the  vestibule  ot 
our  science.  We  have  certainly  no  wish  to  deny  that  among 


THE    FIRST   EDITION.  17 


the    Germans    Leibnitz,    Lessing,    Weguelin,   Iselin,  9 

fichte,  Schelling,  Schiller,  W.  von  Humboldt*  G&rres, 
Stiffens  and  Rosencranz^  have  given  utterance  to  observa- 
tions of  a  profound,  ingenious  and  permanently  valuable  order, 
respecting  both  the  basis  of  History  generally  and  the  con- 
nection that  exists  between  events  and  the  spirit  of  which 
they  are  demonstrably  the  embodiment.  Among  French 
writers,  who  would  refuse  to  admire  in  Bossuet  the  refined 
ecclesiastical  and  teleological  genius  which  regards  the  His- 
tory of  the  World  as  a  vast  map  spread  out  before  it  ;  in  Mon- 
tesquieu the  prodigious  talent  that  makes  events  transform 
themselves  instanter  to  thoughts  in  his  quick  apprehension  ; 
or  in  Balanche  and  Michelet  the  seer's  intuition  that  pierces 
the  superficial  crust  of  circumstances  and  discerns  the  hidden 
forces  with  which  they  originated  ?  But  if  actually  elaborated 
Philosophies  of  History  are  in  question,  four  writers  onlvr 
present  themselves,  Fico,  Herder,  Fr.  v.  Schlegel,$  and  lastly 
the  Philosopher  whose  work  we  are  here  introducing  to  the 
public. 

Fico's  life  and  literary  labours  carry  us  back  to  a  period 
in  which  the  elder  philosophies  are  being  supplanted  by  the 
Cartesian  ;  but  the  latter  has  not  yet  advanced  beyond  the 
contemplation  of  the  fundamental  ideas  —  Being  and  Thought; 
i.t  is  not  yet  equipped  for  a  descent  into  the  concrete  World 
of  History,  or  prepared  to  master  it.  Vico,  in  attempting  to 
exhibit  the  principles  of  History  in  his  "  Scienza  Nuova,"  is 
obliged  to  rely  on  the  guidance  of  the  ancients  and  to  adopt 
the  classical  ^tAoo-o^jy/zara  :  in  his  investigations  it  is  the  data 
of  ancient  rather  than  of  modern  records  that  arrest  his 
attention  :  Feudality  and  its  history  is  with  him  rather  a 
supplement  to  the  development  of  Greece  and  Borne  than 
something  specifically  distinct  therefrom.  Although  at  the 
close  of  his  book  he  asserts  that  the  Christian  religion,  even 
in  its  influence  on  human  aims,  excels  all  the  religions  of 
the  world,  he  stops  short  of  anything  like  an  elaboration  of 
this  statement.  The  separation  and  distinction  between  the 
Middle  Ages  and  the  Modern  Time  cannot  be  exhibited,  as 

*  In  an  academic  dissertation,  whose  style  is  as  masterly  as  its  contents 
an?  profound  :  "  On  the  Task  of  the  Historian" 

+  In  his  animated  and  jrenially  clever  tractate:  "  What  t\e  Germans 
kavi-  aecomplighedfor  the,  Philosophy  of  History." 

i  Translated  in  Buhn'd  Standard  Library. 


XVI  PREFACE    TO 

the  Reformation  and  its  effects  are  excluded  from  considera- 
tion. Besides,  he  undertakes  to  discuss  the  rudiments  of 
human  intelligence,  Language,  Poetry,  Homer ;  as  a  Jurist 
he  has  to  go  down  into  the  depths  of  Eoman  Law,  and  to 
investigate  them  ;  while  all  this — the  main  stream  of  thought, 
episodes,  expansion  of  the  ideas  and  reverting  to  their  princi- 
ples— is  further  varied  by  a  proneness  to  hunt  out  etymo- 
logies and  give  verbal  explanations,  which  often  serves  to 
retard  and  disturb  the  most  important  processes  of  historical 
evolution.  Most  persons  are  thus  deterred  by  the  repulsive 
exterior  from  apprehending  the  profound  truths  which  it 
envelopes ;  the  latter  are  not  sufficiently  obvious  on  the 
surface,  and  the  gold  is  thrown  away  with  the  dross  that 
conceals  it. 

In  Herder  we  find  traits  of  excellence  which  are  wanting 
in  Vico.  He  is  himself  a  poet,  and  he  approaches  History 
in  a  poetic  spirit ;  further  he  does  not  detain  the  reader  by 
prefatory  inquiries  into  the  foundations  and  vestibules  of 
History — Poetry,  Art,  Language,  and  Law :  he  begins  imme- 
diately with  points  of  climate  and  geography ;  moreover  the 
entire  field  of  History  lies  open  before  him  :  his  liberal  Pro- 
testant and  cosmopolitan  culture  gives  him  an  insight  into  all 
nationalities  and  views,  and  renders  him  capable  of  transcend- 
ing mere  traditional  notions  to  an  unlimited  extent.  Some- 
times, too,  he  hits  upon  "  the  right  word ''  with  wonderful  feli- 
city ;  the  teleological  principle  on  which  his  speculations  are 
based  does  not  hinder  him  from  doing  justice  to  the  varieties 
[of  the  actual  world],  and  in  comparing  historical  periods  the 
analogy  they  bear  to  the  stages  of  human  life  does  not 
escape  him  But  these  "  Ideas  contributory  to  the  Philoso- 
phy of  the  History  of  Mankind  "  contradict  their  title  by 
the  very  fact  that  not  only  are  all  metaphysical  categories 
banished,  but  a  positive  hatred  to  metaphysics  is  the  very 
element  in  which  they  move.  The  Philosophy  of  History 
in  Herder's  hands  therefore,  broken  off  from  its  proper  basis, 
is  a  highly  intellectual,  often  striking,  and  on  the  other  hand 
often  detective  **  raisonnement" — a  Theodica3a  rather  of  the 
Heart  and  Understanding  than  of  Reason.  This  alienation 
from  its  natural  root  leads  by  necessary  consequence  to  an 
enthusiasm  which  often  obstructs  the  current  of  thought,  and 
to  interjections  of  astonishment,  instead  of  that  contention  of 
mind  which  results  in  demonstration.  The  theologian,  the 


THE    FIRST    EDITION.  Xvil 


>reacher,  the  entranced  admirer  of  the  works  of 
very  often  intrudes  with  his  subjective  peculiarities  amid  the 
objectivity  of  History. 

In  Frederick  v.  Schlegel's  Philosophy  of  History  we  may 
find,  if  we  choose  to  look,  a  fundamental  idea,  which  can  be 
called  a  philosophical  one.  It  is  this,  nauiely,  that  Man 
was  created  free  ;  that  two  courses  lay  before  him,  between 
which  he  was  competent  to  choose  —  that  which  led  up- 
wards, and  that  which  led  downwards  to  the  abyss.  Had 
he  remained  firm  and  true  to  the  primary  will  that  proceeded 
from  God,  his  freedom  would  have  been  that  of  blessed 
spirits  ;  that  view  being  rejected  as  quite  erroneous,  which 
represents  the  paradisiacal  condition  as  one  of  blissful  idle- 
ness. But  as  man  unhappily  chose  the  second  path,  there 
was  from  that  time  forward  a  divine  and  a  natural  will  in 
him  ;  and  the  great  problem  for  the  life  of  the  individual  as 
also  for  that  of  the  entire  race,  is  the  conversion  and  trans- 
formation of  the  lower  earthly  and  natural  will  more  and 
more  into  the  higher  and  divine  will.  This  Philosophy  of 
History,  therefore,  really  begins  with  the  dire  and  strange 
lament,  that  there  should  be  a  history  at  all,  and  that  man 
did  not  remain  in  the  unhistorical  condition  of  blessed  spirits. 
History,  in  this  view,  is  an  apostasy  —  the  obscuration  of 
man's  pure  and  divine  being  ;  and  instead  of  a  possibility 
of  discovering  Ck)d  in  it,  it  is  rather  the  Negative  of  God 
tvhich  is  mirrored  in  it.  Whether  the  race  will  ultimately 
succeed  in  returning  completely  and  entirely  to  God,  is  on 
this  shewing  only  a  matter  of  expectation  and  hope,  whicht 
since  humanity  has  once  more  darkened  its  prospects  by 
Protestantism,  must,  at  least  to  Frederick  v.  Schlegel, 
appear  doubtful.  In  elaborating  the  characteristic  princi- 
ples and  historical  development  of  the  several  nations, 
wherever  that  fundamental  idea  retires  somewhat  into  the 
background,  an  intellectual  platitude  manifests  itself,  which 
seeks  to  make  up  by  smooth  and  polished  diction  for  the 
frequent  tenuity  of  the  thought.  A  desire  to  gain  repose  for 
his  own  mind,  to  justify  himself,  and  to  maintain  the  Catholic 
stand-point  against  the  requirements  of  the  modern  world, 
gives  his  treatise  a  somewhat  far-fetched  and  premeditated 
tone,  which  deprives  facts  of  their  real  character  to  give  them 
that  tinge  which  will  connect  them  with  the  results  they  are 
brought  forward  to  establish. 


XV111  PREFACE   TO 

Hegel's  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  History,  to  which 
we  now  come,  have  at  starting  a  great  advantage  over 
their  predecessors,  apart  from  the  merits  of  their  contents. 
First  and  foremost  they  are  connected  with  a  system  of 
thought  logically  elaborated  even  to  its  minutest  members : 
they  claim  to  exhibit  the  Logos  of  History,  just  as  there  is 
a  Logos  of  Nature,  of  the  Soul,  of  Law,  of  Art,  &c.  Here, 
then,  mere  flashes  of  thought,  mere  "  raisonnement"  intelli- 
gent or  unintelligent  intuitions  are  out  of  the  question;  instead 
of  these  we  have  an  investigation  conducted  by  logical  philo- 
sophy in  the  department  of  those  human  achievements  [which 
constitute  History].  The  categories  have  been  already  de- 
monstrated in  other  branches  of  the  System,  and  the  only 
point  left  to  be  determined  is,  whether  they  will  be  able  also 
to  verify  themselves  in  the  apparently  intractable  element  of 
human  caprice.  But  in  order  that  this  proceeding  may 
bring  with  it  a  guarantee  of  its  correctness,  and  I  might 
also  say,  of  its  honesty,  the  occurrences  themselves  are  not 
metamorphosed  by  Thought,  exhibited  as  otherwise  than  they 
really  are,  or  in  any  way  altered.  The  facts  remain  as  they 
were — as  they  appear  in  the  historical  traditions  of  centuries: 
the  Idea  is  their  expositor,  not  their  perverter ;  and  while 
the  Philosophy  of  History  thus  involves  nothing  more  than 
the  comprehension  of  the  hidden  meaning  of  the  outward 
phenomenon,  the  philosophical  art  will  consist  in  perceiving 
in  what  part  of  these  phenomenal  data  a  ganglion  of  Ideas 
lies,  which  must  be  announced  and  demonstrated  as  such; 
and,  as  in  Nature  every  straw,  every  animal,  every  stone 
cannot  be  deduced  from  general  principles,  so  the  art  in 
question  will  also  discern  where  it  should  rise  to  the  full 
height  of  speculation,  or  where,  as  remarked  above,  it  may 
be  content  to  lose  itself  in  the  confines  of  the  merely  super- 
ficial ;  it  will  know  what  is  demonstrable,  and  what  is  simply 
attached  to  the  demonstration  as  portraiture  and  charac- 
teristics ;  conscious  of  its  dignity  and  power,  it  will  not  be 
content  to  expend  its  labour  on  indifferent  circumstances. 

This  is  in  fact  one  of  the  chief  merits  of  the  present 
Lectures,  that  with  all  the  speculative  vigour  which  they 
display,  they  nevertheless  concede  their  due  to  the  Empirical 
and  Phenomenal ;  that  they  equally  repudiate  a  subjective 
raitomiement  [a  discussion  following  the  mere  play  of  in- 


THE   JIUST   EDITION,  XH 

dividual  fancy,]  and  the  forcing  of  all  historical  data  into 
the  mould  of  a  formula ;  that  they  seize  and  present  the 
Idea  both  in  logical  development  and  in  the  apparently  loose 
and  irregular  course  of  historical  narrative,  but  yet  without 
allowing  this  process  to  appear  obtrusively  in  the  latter. 
The  so-called  a  priori  method — which  is,  in  fact,  presumed 
to  consist  in  '  making  up '  history  without  the  aid  of  his- 
torical facts — is  therefore  altogether  different  from  what  is 
presented  here  ;  the  author  had  no  intention  to  assume  the 
character  of  a  God,  and  to  create  History,  but  simply  that 
of  a  man,  addressing  himself  to  consider  that  History  which, 
replete  with  reason  and  rich  with  ideas,  had  already  been 
created. 

The  character  of  Lectures  gives  the  work  an  additional 
advantage,  which  it  would  perhaps  have  wanted  had  it  been 
composed  at  the  outset  with  a  view  to  publication  as  a  book, 
and  with  the  compact  energy  and  systematic  seriousness 
which  such  a  design  would  have  involved.  Consisting  of 
lectures,  it  must  contemplate  an  immediate  apprehension 
of  its  '  meaning ;'  it  must  be  intended  to  excite  the  in- 
terest of  youthful  hearers,  and  associate  what  is  to  be  pre- 
sented to  their  attention  with  what  they  already  know. 
And  as  of  all  the  materials  that  can  be  subjected  to  philo- 
sophic treatment,  History  is  always  the  one  with  whose 
subject  persons  of  comparative!}"  youthful  years  become  ear- 
liest acquainted,  the  Philosophy  of  History  may  also  be 
expected  to  connect  itself  with  what  was  previously  known, 
and  not  teach  the  subject  itself  as  well  as  the  ideas  it 
embodies,  (as  is  the  case,  e.g.  in  ^Esthetics,)  but  rather 
confine  itself  to  exhibiting  the  workings  of  the  Idea  in  a 
material  to  which  the  hearer  is  supposed  to  be  no  stranger. 
It  this  be  done  in  a  method  partly  constructive,  partly 
merely  characteristic,  the  advantage  will  be  secured  of  pre- 
senting to  the  student  a  readable  work — one  which  has 
affinities  with  ordinary  intelligence,  or  at  least  is  not  very 
much  removed  from  it.  These  Lectures  therefore — and 
the  remark  is  made  without  fear  of  contradiction— would 
form  the  readiest  introduction  to  the  Hegelian  Philosophy  : 
they  are  even  more  adapted  to  the  purpose  than  the  "  Phi- 
losophy of  Bight,"  [or  Law,]  which  certainly  presupposea 
in  the  student  some  ideas  of  its  subject  to  begin  with.  Hut 


XI  PBEFACE   TO 

the  advantages  of  the  Lecture  form  are  not  unaccompanied 
by  the  usual  drawbacks  in  the  present  case.  The  necessity 
of  developing  principles  at  the  commencement,  of  embra- 
cing the  entire  subject,  and  of  concluding  within  definite 
limits,  must  occasion  an  incongruity  between  the  first  and 
the  latter  part  of  the  work.  The  opulence  of  facts  which 
the  Middle  Ages  offer  us,  and  the  wealth  of  ideas  that  cha- 
racterizes the  Modern  Time,  may  possibly  induce  dissatis- 
faction at  the  attention  which,  simply  because  it  is  the 
beginning,  is  devoted  to  the  East. 

This  naturally  leads  us  to  the  principles  which  have  been 
adopted  in  the  composition  of  the  work  in  its  present  dress ; 
as  they  concern,  first,  its  contents,  and  secondly,  its  form. 
In  a  lecture,  the  teacher  endeavours  to  individualize  hia 
knowledge  and  acquisitions :  by  the  momentum  of  oral  de- 
livery he  breathes  a  life  into  his  intellectual  materials  which 
a  mere  book  cannot  possess.  Not  only  are  digressions, 
amplifications,  repetitions,  and  the  introduction  of  analogies 
which  are  but  distantly  connected  with  the  main  subject, 
in  place  in  every  lecture,  but  without  these  ingredients  an 
oral  discourse  would  be  dry  and  lifeless.  That  Hegel  pos- 
sessed this  didactic  gift,  notwithstanding  all  prejudices  to 
the  contrary,  might  be  proved  by  his  manuscripts  alone, 
which  by  no  means  contain  the  whole  of  what  was  actually 
delivered,  as  also  by  the  numerous  changes  and  transforma- 
tions that  mark  the  successive  resumptions  of  an  old  course 
of  lectures.  The  illustrations  were  not  unfrequently  dispro- 
portioned  to  the  speculative  matter ;  the  beginning  (and 
simply  because  it  was  such)  was  so  greatly  expanded,  that 
if  all  the  narrative  sections,  descriptions,  and  anecdotes  had 
been  inserted,  essential  detriment  would  have  resulted  to 
the  appearance  of  the  book.  Jn  the  first  delivery  of  his  lec- 
tures on  the  Philosophy  of  History,  Hegel  devoted  a  full 
third  of  his  time  to  the  Introduction  and  to  China — a  part 
of  the  work  which  was  elaborated  with  wearisome  prolixity. 
Although  in  subsequent  deliveries  he  was  less  circumstantial 
in  regard  to  this  Empire,  the  editor  was  obliged  to  reduce 
the  description  to  such  proportions  as  would  prevent  the 
Chinese  section  from  encroaching  upon,  and  consequently 
prejudicing  the  treatment  of,  the  other  parts  of  the  work. 
That  kind  of  editorial  labour  which  was  most  called  for  in 


THE    FIRST   EDITION.  XXI 

this  part  was  necessary  in  a  less  degree  in  all  the  other 
divisions.  The  Editor  had  to  present  Lectures  in  the  form 
of  a  Book :  he  was  obliged  to  turn  oral  discourse  into  read- 
able matter :  the  notes  of  students  and  the  manuscripts 
which  constituted  his  materials  were  of  different  dates ;  he 
had  to  undertake  the  task  of  abridging  the  diffuseness  of 
delivery,  bringing  the  narrative  matter  into  harmony  with 
the  speculative  observations  of  the  author,  taking  due  pre- 
cautions that  the  later  lectures  should  not  be  thrust  into  a 
corner  by  the  earlier  ones,  and  that  the  earlier  ones  should 
be  freed  from  that  aspect  of  isolation  and  disconnection 
which  they  presented.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  bound 
not  to  forget  for  one  moment  that  the  book  contained  lec- 
tures ;  the  naivete,  the  abandon,  the  enthusiastic  absorption 
in  the  immediate  subject  which  makes  the  speaker  indifferent 
as  to  when  or  how  he  shall  finish,  had  to  be  left  intact ;  and 
even  frequent  repetitions,  where  they  did  not  too  much  in- 
terrupt the  course  of  thought,  or  weary  the  reader,  could 
not  be  altogether  obliterated. 

But  notwithstanding  the  full  measure  of  license,  which  in 
the  nature  of  the  case  must  be  conceded  to  the  Editor,  and 
the  reconstructive  duties  imposed  upon  him  by  compilation, 
it  can  be  honestly  averred  that  in  no  case  have  the  ideas  of 
the  compiler  been  substituted  for  those  of  Hegel, — that  a 
genuine,  altogether  unadulterated  work  of  the  great  phi- 
losopher is  here  offered  to  the  reader,  and  that,  if  the  editor 
had  followed  another  plan,  no  choice  would  have  been  left  him 
but  either  to  produce  a  book  which  none  could  have  enjoyed, 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  insert  too  much  of  his  own  in  place 
of  the  n.aterials  that  lay  before  him. 

As  regards  the  style  of  the  work,  it  must  be  observed  that 
the  Editor  was  obliged  to  write  it  out  from  beginning  to 
end.  For  one  part  of  the  Introduction  however,  (as  far 
as  p.  61  of  this  book)  he  had  ready  to  hand  an  elaboration 
begun  by  Hegel  in  1830,  which  though  it  was  not  designed 
expressly  for  publication,  was  manifestly  intended  to  take 
the  place  of  earlier  Introductions.  The  Editor — though  all 
his  friends  did  not  adopt  his  view  of  the  matter  —  believed 
that  where  a  Hegelian  torso  was  in  existence,  he  ought  to 
refrain  from  ail  interpolations  of  his  own  and  from  revisional 
alterations.  He  was  desirous  not  to  weaken  the  firm 


lill  PREFACE   TO 

phalanx  of  the  Hegelian  style  by  introducing  phrases  of 
any  other  stamp  or  order,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  thus 
obliged  to  forego  a  certain  unity  of  expression.  He  thought 
that  it  could  not  be  otherwise  than  gratifying  to  the  reader 
to  encounter — at  least  through  some  part  of  the  book — the 
strong,  pithy  and  sometimes  gnarled  style  of  the  author ; 
he  wished  to  afford  him  the  pleasure  of  pursuing  the  laby- 
rinthine windings  of  thought  under  the  guidance  of  his  often 
less  than  flexible  but  always  safe  and  energetic  hand.  From 
the  point  at  which  these  elaborated  fragments  ceased,  began 
the  real  task  of  giving  the  work  an  integral  form ;  but 
this  was  performed  with  constant  regard  for  the  peculiar 
terms  of  expression  which  the  manuscripts  and  notes  ex- 
hibited :  the  Editor  gladly  exchanged  the  words  which  offered 
themselves  to  his  own  pen  for  others  which  he  would  per- 
haps not  have  preferred  himself,  but  which  seemed  to  him 
more  characteristic  of  the  author ;  only  where  it  was  ab- 
solutely necessary  has  he  been  willing  to  complete,  to  fill 
up,  to  supplement ;  in  short  he  has  been  anxious  as  far  as 
possible  to  make  no  sort  of  change  in  the  peculiar  type  of 
the  composition,  and  to  offer  to  the  public  not  a  book  of  his 
own  but  that  of  another.  The  Editor  cannot  therefore  be- 
come responsible  for  its  expression,  as  if  it  were  his  own  ; 
he  had  to  present  a  material  and  trains  of  thought  not  his 
own,  and  as  far  as  possible  to  avoid  travelling  far  out  of  the 
limits  of  that  order  of  phrases  in  which  they  were  originally 
clothed.  Only  within  these  given  and  predetermined  con- 
ditions, which  are  at  the  same  time  impediments  to  a  free 
style,  can  the  Editor  be  made  accountable. 

Hegel's  manuscripts  were  the  first  materials  to  which  the 
Editor  had  recourse.  These  often  contain  only  single  words 
and  names  connected  by  dashes,  evidently  intended  to  aid 
the  memory  in  teaching ;  then  again  longer  sentences,  and 
sometimes  a  page  or  more  fully  written  out.  From  this 
latter  part  of  the  manuscript  could  be  taken  many  a  striking 
expression,  many  an  energetic  epithet :  the  hearers'  notes 
were  corrected  and  supplemented  by  it,  and  it  is  surprising 
with  what  unwearied  perseverance  the  author  continually 
returns  to  former  trains  of  thought.  Hegel  appears  in 
these  memorials  as  the  most  diligent  and  careful  teacher, 
always  intent  upon  deepening  fugitive  impressions,  and 


THE   IIBST    EDITION. 

clenching  what  might  pass  away  from  the  mind,  with  the 
strong  rivets  of  the  Idea.  As  regards  the  second  part  of 
my  materials,  the  notes,  I  have  had  such — reporting  all  the 
five  deliveries  of  this  course,  18-f-f,  ]8ff,  18  jf,  18f$,  18ff* 
—  m  the  hand-writing  of  Geh.  Ober-Regierungs  Rath 
Schulze,  Capt.  von  Griesheim,  Prof.  Hotho,  Dr.  Werder, 
Dr.  Heimann,  and  the  son  of  the  philosopher,  M.  Charles 
Hegel.  It  was  not  till  the  session  of  18|f  that  Hegel  came 
to  treat  somewhat  more  largely  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  the 
Modern  Time,  and  the  sections  of  the  present  work  devoted 
to  those  periods  are  for  the  most  part  taken  from  this  last 
delivery  of  the  course.  To  many  of  my  respected  colleagues 
and  friends,  whom  I  would  gladly  name  if  I  might  presume 
upon  their  permission  to  do  so,  I  am  indebted  for  emenda- 
tions, additions,  and  assistance  of  every  kind.  "Without  such 
aids,  the  book  would  be  much  less  complete  as  regards  the 
historical  illustration  of  principles  than  it  may  perhaps  be 
deemed  at  present. 

With  this  publication  of  the  "  Philosophy  of  History,"  that 
of  the  "  -5£sthetik  "  within  a  few  months,  and  that  of  the 
"Encyclopadie"  in  its  new  form  and  style,  which  will  not  have 
long  to  be  waited  for,  the  work  of  editing  and  publishing 
Hegel's  writings  will  be  completed.  For  our  Friend  and 
Teacher  it  will  be  a  monument  of  fame ;  for  the  editors  a 
memorial  of  piety,  whose  worth  and  truth  consist  not  in 
womanish  lamentation,  but  in  a  grief  that  is  only  a  stimulus 
to  renewed  activity.  On  the  other  hand  that  piety  desires 
no  return  but  the  satisfaction  which  it  already  possesses  in 
the  consciousness  of  the  performance  of  duty ;  and  though 
those  who  are  "  dead  while  they  live"  may  think  to  reproach 
us  with  the  feebleness  of  our  means,  we  may  hope  for  abso- 
lution in  consideration  of  the  plenitude  of  our  zeal.  The 
Hegelian  Four  Ages  of  the  World  have  at  least  made  their 
appearance. 

EDWARD  GANS. 

Berlin,  June  8,  1837. 

*  These  lectures  were  delivered  in  the  University  of  Berlin,  to  which 
Hegel  was  called  in  1818.  "  He  there  lectured  for  thirteen  years,  and 
formed  a  school,  of  which  it  is  sufficient  to  name  as  among  its  members, 
Gans,  Rosenkranz,  Michelet,  Werder,  Marheineke  and  Hotho."  I<ew*&'a 
Biog.  Hist,  of  Philoa.— TB. 


XXIX 

PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

THE  cbanged  form  in  which  Hegel's  lectures  on  the  Phi- 
losophy of  History  are  re-issued,  suggests  the  necessity  of 
some  explanation  respecting  the  relation  of  this  second  edi- 
tion both  to  the  original  materials  from  which  the  work  was 
compiled,  and  to  their  first  publication. 

The  lamented  Professor  Gans,  the  editor  of  the  "  Philo- 
sophy of  History,"  displayed  a  talented  ingenuity  in  trans- 
forming Lectures  into  a  Book ;  in  doing  so  he  followed  for 
the  most  part  Hegel's  latest  deliveries  of  the  course,  because 
they  were  the  most  popular,  and  appeared  most  adapted  to 
his  object. 

He  succeeded  in  presenting  the  lectures  much  as  they 
were  delivered  in  the  winter  of  18^  J ;  and  this  result  might 
be  regarded  as  perfectly  satisfactory,  if  Hegel's  various  read- 
ings of  the  course  had  been  more  uniform  and  concordant, 
if  indeed  they  had  not  rather  been  of  such  a  nature  as  to 
supplement  each  other.  For  however  great  may  have  been 
Hegel's  power  of  condensing  the  wide  extent  of  the  pheno- 
menal world  by  Thought,  it  was  impossible  for  him  entirely 
to  master  and  to  present  in  an  uniform  shape  the  immea- 
surable material  of  History  in  the  course  of  one  semester. 
In  the  first  delivery  in  the  winter  of  18f  £,  he  was  chiefly 
occupied  with  unfolding  the  philosophical  Idea,  and  shewing 
how  this  constitutes  the  real  kernel  of  History,  and  the  im- 
pelling Soul  of  World-Historical  Peoples.  In  proceeding  to 
treat  of  China  and  India,  he  wished,  as  he  said  himself,  only 
to  shew  by  example  how  philosophy  ought  to  comprehend 
the  character  of  a  nation ;  and  this  could  be  done  more  easily 
in  the  case  of  the  stationary  nations  of  the  East,  than  in  that 
of  peoples  which  have  a  bond  fide  history  and  an  historical 
development  of  character.  A  warm  predilection  made  him 
linger  long  with  the  Greeks,  for  whom  he  always  felt  a 
youthful  enthusiasm ;  and  after  a  brief  consideration  of  the 
lloman  World  he  endeavoured  finally  to  condense  the 
Mediaeval  Period  and  the  Modern  Time  into  a  few  lectures  ; 
for  time  pressed,  and  when,  as  in  the  Christian  World,  the 
Thought  no  longer  lies  concealed  among  the  multitude  of 
phenomena,  but  announces  itself  and  is  obviously  present  in 
History,  the  philosopher  is  at  liberty  to  abridge  his  discus- 


PREFACE    TO    THE    SECOND    KDITIOS.  XXV 

sion  of  it ;  in  fact,  nothing  more  is  needed  than  to  indicate 
the  impelling  Idea.  In  the  later  readings,  on  the  other  hand, 
Dhina,  India,  and  the  East  generally  were  more  speedily 
dispatched,  and  more  time  and  attention  devoted  to  the 
GS-erman  World.  By  degrees  the  Philosophical  and  Abstract 
occupied  less  space,  the  historical  matter  was  expanded,  and 
the  whole  became  more  popular. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  the  different  readings  of  the  course 
supplement  each  other,  and  how  the  entire  substance  cannot 
be  gathered  without  uniting  the  philosophical  element  which 
predominates  in  the  earlier,  and  which  must  constitute  the 
basis  of  the  work,  with  the  historical  expansion  which  cha- 
racterizes the  latest  deliveries. 

Had  Hegel  pursued  the  plan  which  most  professors  adopt, 
in  adapting  notes  for  use  in  the  lecture  room,  of  merely 
appending  emendations  and  additions  to  the  original  draught, 
it  would  be  correct  to  suppose  that  his  latest  readings  would 
be  also  the  most  matured.  But  as,  on  the  contrary,  every 
delivery  was  with  him  a  new  act  of  thought,  each  gives  only 
the  expression  of  that  degree  of  philosophical  energy  which 
animate  his  mind  at  the  time ;  thus,  in  fact,  the  two  first 
deliveries  of  18-f^-  and  ISfJs  exhibit  a  far  ir.ore  com- 
prehensive vigour  of  idea  and  expression,  a  far  richer  store 
of  striking  thoughts  and  appropriate  images,  than  those  of 
later  date ;  for  that  first  inspiration  which  accompanied  the 
thoughts  when  they  first  sprang  into  existence,  could  only 
lose  its  living  freshness  by  repetition. 

From  what  has  been  said,  the  nature  of  the  task  which  a 
new  edition  involved  is  sufficiently  manifest.  A  treasury 
of  thought  of  no  trifling  value  had  to  be  recovered  from  the 
first  readings,  and  the  tone  of  originality  restored  to  the 
whole.  The  printed  text  therefore  was  made  the  basis, 
and  the  work  of  inserting,  supplementing,  substituting, 
and  transforming,  (as  the  case  seemed  to  require,)  was 
undertaken  with  the  greatest  possible  respect  for  the 
original.  No  scope  was  left  for  the  individual  views  of  the 
Editor,  since  in  all  such  alterations  Hegel's  manuscripts 
were  the  sole  guide.  For  while  the  first  publication  of  these 
lectures — a  part  of  the  Introduction  excepted— followed  the 
notes  of  the  hearers  only,  the  second  edition  has  endeavoured 
to  supplement  it  by  making  Hegel's  own  manuscripts  the 


PRE7ACE   TO   THE    SECOND    ED?TTO!f, 

basis  throughout,  and  using  the  notes  only  for  the  purpose 
of  rectification  and  arrangement.  The  editor  has  striven 
after  uniformity  of  tone  through  the  whole  work  simply  by 
allowing  the  author  to  speak  everywhere  in  his  own  wo'rds ; 
so  that  not  only  are  the  new  insertions  taken  verbatim  from 
the  manuscripts,  but  even  where  the  printed  text  was  re- 
tained in  the  main,  peculiar  expressions  which  the  hearer  ha<i 
lost  in  transcription,  were  restored. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  place  vigour  of  thought  in  a 
formal  schematism,  and  with  polemical  zeal  assert  its  exclu- 
sive claim  against  other  styles  of  philosophizing,  the  remark 
may  be  added  that  Hegel  adhered  so  little  to  the  subdivisions 
which  he  had  adopted,  that  he  made  some  alterations  in 
them  on  occasion  of  every  reading  of  the  course — treated 
Buddhism  and  Lamaism,  e.  g.,  sometimes  before,  sometimes 
after  India,  sometimes 'reduced  the  Christian  World  more 
closely  to  the  German  nations,  sometimes  took  in  the  By- 
zantine Empire,  and  so  on.  The  new  edition  has  had  but 
few  alterations  to  make  in  this  respect. 

"When  the  association  for  publishing  Hegel's  works  did 
me  the  honour  to  entrust  me  with  the  re-editing  of  my 
Father's  Philosophy  of  History,  it  also  named  as  advocates 
of  the  claims  of  the  first  edition,  and  as  representatives  of 
Prof.  Grans,  who  had  been  removed  from  its  circle  by 
death,  three  of  its  members,  Geh.  Ober-Regierungs  Rath 
Dr.  Schulze,  Prof,  von  Henning,  and  Prof  Hotho,  to  whose 
revision  the  work  in  its  new  shape  was  to  be  submitted.  In 
this  revision,  I  not  only  enjoyed  the  acquiescence  of  those 
most  estimable  men  and  valued  friends  in  the  alterations  I 
had  made,  but  also  owe  them  a  debt  of  thanks  for  many 
new  emendations,  which  I  take  the  opportunity  of  thus  pub- 
licly discharging. 

In  conclusion,  I  feel  constrained  to  acknowledge  that  my 
gratitude  to  that  highly  respected  association  for  the  praise- 
worthy deed  of  love  to  science,  friendship,  and  disinterested- 
ness, whose  prosecution  originated  it  and  still  holds  it 
together,  could  be  increased  only  by  the  fact  of  its  having 
granted  me  also  a  share  in  editing  the  works  of  my  beloved 
Father. 

CHARLES  HEGEL. 

Berlin,  May  16,  1840. 


CONTENTS. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE  .  .  .  .      Hi 

PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION,  BY  DR.  E.  GANS  .      xii 

PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION  BY  DR.  C.  HEGEL  .  xxiv 

INTRODUCTION.  Various  methods  of  treating  History:  Original,  Re- 
flective  and  Philosophical.  I.  ORIGINAL  HISTORY:  Herodotus,  Thu- 
cydides,  Xenophon,  Caesar,  Guicciardini,  p,  1-4.  II.  REFLECTIVE 
HISTORY.  (1)  General  or  Universal  History.  Livy,  Diodorus  Siculus, 
Johannes  von  Miiller.  (2)  Pragmatical  History.  (3)  Critical  History 
— the  German  method  of  modern  times.  (4)  The  History  of  special 
departments  of  life  and  thought — of  Art,  Law,  and  Religion,  4-8. 
III.  PHILOSOPHICAL  HISTORY.  Reason,  the  Infinite  material  and  the 
Infinite  Formative  Power  of  the  Universe,  8-12. — Anaxagoras's  dictum, 
that  VOVQ  or  Reason  governs  the  world,  12-17. — The  Destiny  or  Final 
Cause  of  the  World.  HISTORY,  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  SPIRIT,  or 
the  Realization  of  its  Idea,  17.  (1)  The  abstract  characteristics  of 
the  Nature  of  Spirit — Spirit  the  antithesis  of  Matter — Self-Contained 
Existence,  whose  essential  characteristic  is  Freedom,  18 — Successive 
stages  in  the  appreciation  of  the  inalienable  Freedom  of  the  Human 
Spirit:  The  Oriental  World  knows  only  that  One  is  Free  :  The  Greeks 
and  Romans  recognize  Some  as  free.  The  German  Nations  under  the 
influence  of  Christianity,  have  attained  the  knowledge  that  A II  are 
Free,  19.  The  Final  Cause  of  the  World  is  the  realization  of  its  own 
freedom  by  Spirit,  20.  (2)  The  means  by  whic;"  this  consciousness  is 
developed  —  human  activity  originally  stimulated  by  desires  and 
passions,  but  in  which  higher  principles  are  implicit,  resulting  in  the 
STATE,  21.  In  the  State  these  universal  principles  are  harmonized 
with  subjective  and  particular  aims,  and  the  passions  of  individuals 
result  in  the  restraints  of  law  and  political  order,  22-30. — GREAT  MEN 
the  founders  of  political  organizations  in  which  this  Harmony  is 
realized,  30.  Standard  by  which  Great  Men  are  to  be  judged,  31,  32. 
Heroes  and  Valets,  33.  The  cunning  of  Reason,  34.  Claims  of 
religion  and  morality  absolute,  35.  Ideals,  under  what  conditions  re- 
alized, 30, 37.  The  true  Ideal,  that  of  Reason,  always  tending  to  realize 
itself,  38.  (3)  The  object  to  be  attained  by  the  processes  of  History — 
the  union  of  the  Subjective  with  the  Objective  Will  in  the  STATE,  40. 
Idea  of  the  State — its  abstract  basis  referred  to  the  Philosophv  <  f 
Jurisprudence  or  Right,  41.  Erroneous  views  confuted. — Man  is^not 
free  in  a  merely  natural  condition,  42.  The  Patriarchal  principle  not 
the  only  legitimate  basis  of  government,  43.  Only  a  transitional  one, 
44.  The  consent  of  all  the  members  of  the  community  not  necessary 
to  a  legitimate  government,  45.  Question  of  the  best  Constitution,  46. 
Constitution  of  a  country  not  the  result  of  deliberate  choice,  but  of 
the  genius  of  a  people,  47.  Successive  phases  of  government — Primi- 


xxriii  CONTENTS. 

the  Monarchy,  Aristocracy,  Democracy,  and  Constitutional  Royalty, 
48.  Political  idiosyncrasies,  49.  Connection  of  Religion,  Art,  and 
Philosophy  with  the  State,  51-56.  The  course  of  the  World's  History, 
56-  Natural  and  Spiritual  Development  contrasted,  57.  Historj 
exhibits  the  gradations  in  the  consciousness  of  Freedom,  58,  59. 
Fiction  of  a  Golden  Age.  Frederick  von  Schlegel's  theory.  Re- 
•eaiches  in  Oriental  literature  stimulated  by  this  fallacious  view,  <'0,  61. 
Conditions  essential  to  History — Intimate  relation  between  legal  and 
political  organizations  and  the  rise  of  Historical  literature,  62,  63, 
Contrast  between  India  and  China  in  this  respect,  84.  Ante-Historical 
period— the  growth  of  Peoples  and  of  Languages,  65.  Dialectical 
nature  of  the  Idea,  66.  Empirical  objections,  67.  Reason  and  Un- 
derstanding. 68.  Distinctions  in  National  Genius,  in  Poetry,  Philo- 
sopny,  &c.,  ignored,  69-74.  Prima  facie  aspect  of  History — Mutability 
of  Human  Things — Metempsychosis —The  Phoenix,  75,  76.  Activity 
characteristic  of  Spirit — Nations  are  what  their  deeds  are,  illustrated 
in  the  case  of  England — Culmination,  Decline  and  Fall  of  Nations, 
77,  78.  Chronos  and  Zeus,  79.  Spirit  expands  beyond  the  limits  of 
each  successive  nationality  and  annuls  it,  80.  Summary,  81,  82. 

Geographical  Basis  of  History. 

Influence  of  Nature  on  Historical  Development— Should  not  be  rated 
too  high  nor  too  low,  83.  The  Temperate  Zone  the  true  theatre  of 
History,  84.  Division  of  the  World  into  Old  and  New — Physical 
immaturity  of  Australia — South  Americans  physically  and  psychically 
inferior,  84,  85.  Modern  Emigration  and  its  Medieval  analogies,  86. 
South  and  North  America — Catholicism  and  Protestantism,  87.  Puri- 
tan colonization  and  industrial  tendencies  in  their  bearing  on  the  cha- 
racter of  the  United  States  -  Multiplication  of  Religious  Sects— Neces- 
sity of  consolidated  political  organization  not  felt  in  North  America, 

89.  Relation  of  the  United  States  to  neighbouring  countries  different 
from  that  of  European  nations — America  as  the  echo  of  the  Past  or 
the  Land  of  the  Future,  has  little  interest  for  the  Philosophy  of  History, 

90.  The  Old  World;    its  ancient  limitations.     The  Mediterranean 
Sea,  the  centre  of  World- History,  91.     Special  Geographical  distinc- 
tions: (1)  The  Uplands — Mongolia,  the  Deserts  of  Arabia,  &c.,  92. 

(2)  The  Valley  Plains— China,  India,  Babylonia,  Egypt.     In  such 
regions  great   Kingdoms  have  originated,  93.     (3j  The  coast  land — 
Influence  of  the  Sea,  94.     Classification  of  the  three  portions  of  the 
Old  World  according  to  the  predominant  physical  features. — Africa. 
(1)  Africa  Proper,  (2)  European  Africa — the  coast-land  on  the  North, 

(3)  the  Valley  Land  of  the  Nile,  connected  with  Asia,  95,  96.     Afri- 
can type  of  character,  97.     Sorcery  and  Fetish -worship,  98.     Worship 
of  the  Dead  —Contempt  for  Humanity — Tyranny  and  Cannibalism, 
99.     Slavery,  100.     Political  condition*  of  Africans,  101.     Frenzy  in 
war,  102.     The  merely  Natural  condition  which  African  character  ex- 
hibits is  one  of  absolute  injustice — Africa  dismissed  from  further  con- 
iideration  as  lying  only  on  the  threshold  of  History,  103.     Asia.     Si- 
beria eliminated  aa  out  of  the  pale  of  History.     (1)  Central  Upland  of 


CONTENTS.  XXIX 

Asia.  (2)  Vast  Valley-Plains  of  China,  India,  the  Unds  of  the  Tigris 
and  Euphrates,  &c.  (3)  The  intermixture  of  these  physical  features 
in  Hither  or  Anterior  Asia — Syria,  Asia  Minor,  &c.,  104,  105.  Eu- 
rope. Physical  features  less  marked  than  those  of  Africa  and  Asia. 

(1)  Southern    Europe — Greece,    Italy,    South  Eastern  France,  &c 

(2)  The  heart  of  Europe— France,  Germany,  and  England.     (3)  Th« 
North  Eastern  States— Poland,  Russia,  the  Slavonic  Kingdoms,  106. 
107. 

Classification  of  Historic  Data. 

The  course  of  History  symbolized  by  that  of  Light,  109.  Begins  with 
the  East — Gradual  development  of  the  consciousness  of  Freedom,  110. 
Oriental  Empires,  111.  Invasion  of  Tartar  hordes — Prosaic  Empire 
of  China,  India,  &c. — Persian  Empire  of  Light — Transition  to  Greece, 
112.  Greece,  the  Kingdom  of  Beautiful  Freedom — the  Youth,  as  Rome 
is  the  Manhood  of  History,  113.  Claims  of  Personality  formally  recog- 
nized— Crushing  influence  of  Rome  on  individual  and  national  genius, 
114.  Christianity  and  the  German  World  —  Mahometanism,  115. 
The  Church — Its  Corruption — The  Ideal  of  Reason  realized  in  Secular 
life — The  emancipation  of  Spirit,  116. 

PART  I.    THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD. 

Principle  of  the  Oriental  World,  the  Substantial,  the  Prescriptive  in 
Morality  —  Government  only  the  prerogative  of  compulsion,  116, 
117.  With  China  and  the  Mongols — the  realm  of  theocratic  despotism 
—History  begins. — India,  118.  Persia — the  symbol  of  whose  empire 
is  Light,  119.  Syria  and  Judaea.  Egypt — the  transition  to  Greece,  120. 

SECTION  I.     CHINA. 

Substantiality  of  the  principle  on  which  the  Chinese  Empire  is  based, 

121.  Antiquity  of  Chinese  traditions  and  records — Canonical  books, 

122.  Population— Complete  political  organization,   123.     Fohi,  the 
reputed  founder  of  Chinese  civilization — Successive  dynasties  and  ca- 
pital cities,  124.     Shi-hoang-ti — His  Great  Wall,  and  Book-burning. 
Tartars;  Mantchoo  dynasty,  125.     Spirit  of  the  political  and  social 
life  of  China— The  principle  of  the  Family  that  of  the  Chinese  State, 
126      Relative  duties  strictly  enforced  by  law,  127.     Merits  of  Sons 
'imputed  '  to  their  Fathers — •'  Hall  of  Ancestors,"   128.   The  Empe- 
ror is  the  Patriarch— the  supreme  authority  in  matters  of  religion  and 
science  as  well  as  government — His  will,  however,  controlled  by  an- 
cient maxims — Education  of  Princes,  129.      Administration  of  the 

"  Empire,  130.  Learned  and  Military  Mandarins — Examinations  for 
official  posts— The  Romance,  Ju-Kiao-li,  131.  The  Censors  —  In- 
stances of  their  upright  discharge  of  duty,  132.  The  Emperor  the 
active  soul  of  the  Empire,  133.  Jurisprudence— Subjects  regarded  as 
in  a  state  of  nonage— Chastisements  chiefly  corporal — corrective,  not 
retrihufive,  134.  Severe  punishment  of  the  contravention  of  relative 
duties— No  distinction  between  malice  prepense  and  accidental  injury: 
ft  cause  of  dispute  between  the  English  and  Chinese,  135  Revenge 


XXX  CONTENTS. 

an  occasion  of  suicide — Serfdom,  136.  Great  immorality  of  the  Chi- 
nese— The  Religion  of  Fo,  which  regards  God  as  Pure  Nothing,  137. 
Religious  side  of  Chinese  polity— Relation  of  the  Emperor  to  Religion 
— Controversy  in  the  Catholic  Church  respecting  the  Chinese  name  of 
God,  138.  Genii— Bonzes,  139.  Chinese  Science,  140.  Written 
distinguished  from  Spoken  Language — Leibnitz's  opinion  on  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  separation,  141.  Obstacles  presented  by  this  system  to 
the  advance  of  Knowledge — Chinese  History,  J  urispVudence,  Ethics 
and  Philosophy,  142.  Mathematics,  Physics,  and  Astronomy— Ac- 
quaintance with  the  Art  of  Printing,  143.  Chinese  painting,  working 
of  metals,  &c. — Summary  of  Chinese  character,  144. 

SECTION  II.  INDIA. 

In.Tia  the  region  of  phantasy  and  sensibility,  contrasted  with  China,  145. 
India  presents  us  with  Spirit  in  a  state  of  Dream — Analogy  to  certain 
phases  of  female  beauty,  146.  Indian  Pantheism,  that  of  Imagination 
not  of  Thought — Deili cation  of  finite  existence,  147.  Extensive  rela- 
tions of  India  to  the  History  of  the  World — Sanscrit,  148.  India  the 
Land  of  Desire  to  Conquerors :  Alexander — Conquests  of  the  English — 
Topographical  divisions,  149, 150.  Political  life — Castes,  &c.  151-154. 
Brahm  ;  the  Brahmins  ;  the  Yogis,  155.  Religious  suicide,  15(>. 
Brahmins  are  by  birth,  present  deities,  U>7.  Observances  binding  on 
Brahmins,  158.  Brahminical  dignity  and  prerogatives,  159.  "Difficul- 
ties experienced  by  the  English  in  enlisting  native  troops,  1 60.  Rights  of 
property  in  land  not  clearly  ascertainable — Evasion  of  land  tax  imposed 
by  the  English,  161.  Hindoo  Mythology,  162.  Brahm,  the  pure  Unity 
of  Thought,  or  God  in  incomplexity  of  existence — Analogies  to  religion 
of  Fo,  163.  Avatars  or  Incarnations — Vishnu,  Siva,  and  Mahadeva — 
Sensual  side  of  Hindoo  worship,  1 64.  Immorality  of  Hindoo  character 
accounted  for,  165.  Art  and  Science — Exaggerated  estimate  of  intel- 
lectual culture  and  scientific  attainments,  166.  The  Vedas,  the  epic 
poems,  Ramayana  and  Mahabharata — The  Puranas  and  the  Code  of 
Manu,  167.  The  Hindoo  State,  168.  History,  properly  speaking, 
non-existent  among  the  Hindoos,  169.  Confusion  of  imagination  with 
fact,  170.  Absurd  chronology  and  cosmogonies— Colebrooke's  re- 
searches, 171.  Deception  practised  by  Brahmins  on  Captain  Wilford 
— Vicramaditya  and  Calidasa,  172.  State  in  which  Europeans  found 
India — Not  a  degeneracy  from  a  superior  political  condition,  173. 
Summary  of  Hindoo  character,  1 74. 

SECTION  II.  CONTINUED.  India — Buddhism. 
Distinction  of  Buddhism  from  Hindoo  conceptions,  175.  Buddhism 
supplements  the  spiritual  deficiencies  of  the  Chinese  principle.  Analysis 
of  Buddhism — Connection  of  its  leading  conception  with  the  doctrine 
of  Metempsychosis,  176.  Incarnations  of  abstract  Deity  in  departed 
teachers,  Buddha,  Gautama,  and  Foe,  and  in  the  Grand  Lama,  177. 
The  three  Lamas  — The  individual  as  such  is  not  the  object  of  worship 
but  the  principle  of  which  he  is  the  incarnation,  178.  Education  and 
personal  character  of  the  Lamas,  The  Shamans,  179.  Government 
administered  by  a  Vizier,  180. 


CONTENTS. 

SECTION  III.     Persia. 

Nations  of  Hither  Asia  belong  to  the  Caucasian  race.  Greater  similarity 
to  Europeans.  The  Persians  the  first  World- historical  people.  Zo- 
roaster and  the  principle  of  'Light,'  180.  Explanation  of  that  principle, 
181,  182.  Topographical  divisions,  183. 

CHAPTER  I.  THE  ZEND  PEOPLE. — The  Zend  Books — the  canonical  books 
of  the  ancient  Parsees.  Anquetil  du  Perron's  researches — Bactriana 
probably  the  original  seat  of  the  Zend  people,  184.  The  doctrine  of 
Zoroaster,  185.  Light  and  Darkness — Ormuzd  and  Ahriman.  Zer- 
uane-Akerene,  186.  Moral  requirements,  187.  Ritual  Observances, 

188.  Cyrus  and  the  river  Gyndes,  189. 

CHAPIER  II.  THE  ASSYRIANS,  BABYLONIANS,  MEDES,  AND  PERSIANS, — 
Element  of  wealth,  luxury  and  commerce  in  these  nations — The  '  Shah- 
nameh.'  Contest  of  Iran  and  Turan — Perversion  of  historical  facts, 

189,  190.     Babylon,  191,  192.      The  Medes—M&gi.  closely  connected 
with  the  Zend  religion — The  Assyrian-Babylonian  Empire,  1 93.     The 

'    Persiatu— Cyrus — Lydia  and  the  Greek  colonies,  194. 

CHAPTER  III.  THE  PERSIAN  EMPIRE  AND  ITS  CONSTITUENT  PARTS. 
— The  Persian  Empire  comprehends  the  three  geographical  elements 
noticed  p.  92 — the  Uplands  of  Persia  and  Media,  the  Valley- Plains  of 
the  Euphrates,  Tigris,  and  Nile,  and  the  Coast-  Rer/ion,  Syria  and 
Phenicia,  195.  Persians,  196.  Nomadic  character  oif  their  military 
expeditions,  197.  Nobility,  court,  and  political  constitution  of  Persia, 
I'j8.  Syria  and  Semitic  Western  Asia — Syrian  and  Phoanician  cul- 
ture, commerce,  and  inventions,  199  Idolatry  of  Syria,  Phrygia,  &c. 
— Worship  of  the  Universal  Power  of  Nature,  Astarte,  Cybele,  01 
Diana,  200.  Bond  of  religion  lax. — Phoenicians — Hercules  worshipped 
at  Tyre — Real  import  of  the  myths  attached  to  Hercules,  201.  Ado- 
nis. Pain  an  element  of  worship,  202.  Judeea.  Jewish  idea  of  God, 

.  203.  Spirit  in  opposition  to  Nature,  204.  Advantages  and  deficien- 
cies attaching  to  the  Jewish  stand-point,  205,  206.  Egypt.  Union 
of  the  elements  of  the  Persian  Empire— The  Sphinx,  207.  Egypt  the 
Land  of  Marvels — Herodotus,  Manetho,  208.  Young  and  Champol- 
Hon's  investigations  into  the  Hieroglyphic  language,  209.  History, 
2u9 — 212.  Genius  of  the  Egyptians-  Division  into  Castes —less  rigid 
than  among  the  Hindoos,  213.  Customs,  Laws,  scientific  and  practi- 
cal skill  of  Egypt,  214.  Indifference  to  politics  on  the  part  of  the 
inferior  castes.  Reliyion — Series  of  natural  phenomena  determined 
by  the  Sun  and  the  Nile — Osiris,  the  Sun,  the  Nile;  Isis,  the  Earth — 
Parallelism  with  human  life.  Mutual  symbolism — Egyptian  Hermes, 
Anubis  (Thothi,  the  spiritual  side  of  Egyptian  theism,  215-220.  Wor- 
ship chiefly  Zoolatry — The  Worship  of  brutes  may  involve  a  more  intel- 
ligent creed  than  that  of  the  "Host  of  Heaven."  Apis,  220, 221.  Tran- 
sition from  Egyptian  to  Greek  statuary  art,  the  former  giving  definite 
expression  by  the  heads  and  masks  of  brutes,  Anubis,  e.  </.,  with 
dog's  head,  &c.  The  Problem  which  the  Egyptian  Spirit  proposes  to 

..  itself,  222.  223.  Hieroglyphs  —  Catacombs — The  Pyramids — The 
3-ealoi  hf  the  Dead.  The  Egyptians  the  first  to  conceive  of  the  foul 


rail  CONTENTS. 

as  immortal — Metempsychosis,  225.  The  dead  body  an  object  of  car« 
in  consequence  of  belief  in  immortality — Mummies,  226.  Judgment 
on  the  Dead — Death  with  the  Egyptians  a  stimulus  to  enjoy  Life, 
227.  The  Human  and  Divine  united  in  some  symbolic  representa- 
tions— Summary  of  the  startling  contrasts  exhibited  in  Egyptian  cha- 
racter— Herodotus's  Egyptian  tales,  similar  to  the  Thousand  and  One 
Nights,  which  may  be  partly  traced  to  Egypt — Von  Hammers 
opinion.  TRANSITION  TO  THE  GREEK  WORLD.  The  Egyptians 
as  compared  with  the  Greeks,  present  boyhood  contrasted  with  youth, 
229.  The  inscriptions  at  Sais  and  Delphi  compared — (EdipviS  and 
the  Sphinx,  230.  Historical  transition  from  Egypt  to  Greece  me- 
diated by  the  fall  of  the  Persian  Empire— Decline  and  fall  of  the 
great  Empires— Prejudice  in  favour  of  duration  as  compared  with 
transiency.  Summary  of  characteristics  of  the  Persian  Empire  and 
its  dependencies,  231,  232. 

PART  IT.    THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

Among  the  Greeks  we  feel  ourselves  at  home— True  Palingenesis  of 
Spirit,  232.  Homer,  Achilles,  Alexander — Three  periods  in  Greek 
History — Growth,  Contests  with  the  Persians,  and  Decline,  233. 

SECTION  I.     THE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  GREEK  SPIRIT. 

The  Greek  Spirit  characterized — Geographical  peculiarities  of  Hellns, 
234.  The  Greeks  a  mixed  race,  235.  Various  stocks  from  which 
the  population  of  Greece  was  derived,  236.  Influence  of  the  Sea — 
Piracy — Minos.  Rudiments  of  Greek  civilization  connected  with  the 
advent  of  foreigners.  States  founded  by  foreigners,  237.  Cecrops, 
Danaus,  Cadmus— Cyclopian  fortresses,  238.  Royalty  in  the  earliest 
period  of  Greece,  and  relation  of  Kings  to  subjects,  239.  The  Trojan 
War,  240.  Extinction  of  the  royal  houses — Position  of  the  Actors 
and  the  Chorus  in  Tragedy  analogous  to  that  of  Kings  and  peoples  in 
early  Greek  history,  241.  Rise  of  the  Greek  cities — Colonization, 
242.  Influence  of  the  topographical  features  of  Greece  on  the  culture 
of  its  inhabitants— Specific  character  of  Greek  worship  of  Nature,  243. 
Greek  view  of  Nature— Pan,  244.  Origin  of  the  Muses— Ma vrfinr, 

245.  Oracles,  the   Delphic  priestesses;  and  the  Cave  of  Trophonius, 

246.  Question  of  the  foreign  or  indigenous  origin  of  Greek  mytholo- 
gical conceptions,  247.     The  Mysteries — Summary  of  the  Elements 
of  the  Greek  Spirit—The  Greek  character  is  Individuality  conditioned 
by  Beauty,  248.     Philosophical  import  of  Art,  249. 

SECTION  II.    PHASES   OF  INDIVIDUALITY   AESTHETICALLY 

CONDITIONED. 

CHAPTER  I.  THE  SUBJECTIVE  WORK  OF  ART. — Adaptation  of  Nature 
to  purposes  of  utility  and  ornament,  250.  Development  of  the  human 
body  itself  as  the  organ  of  the  Soul,  and  as  a  medium  for  the  expres- 
sion of  beauty,  251.  Olympic  and  other  public  games.  Philosophical 
import  of  sports  of  this  kind.  252. 


CONTESTS.  11X111 

CHAPTER  II.  THE  OBJECTIVE  WORK  or  ART.— The  Greek  Gods  are 
Individualities,  objectively  beautiful,  253.  The  overthrow  of  the 
Titans — its  philosophical  import.  Relation  of  the  new  dynasty  of 
gods  to  the  powers  of  Nature,  254.  Advance  from  the  Sensuous  to 
the  Spiritual — Greek  divinities  not  abstractions,  255.  The  adven- 
titious element  in  the  Greek  mythology — Local  divinities,  256.  Ra- 
tional estimate  of  the  "  Mysteries,"  258.  Anthropomorphism  of  Greek 
mythology  no  disparagement,  but  the  contrary — The  Christian  con- 
ception of  God  still  more  anthropomorphic,  and  therefore  more  ade- 
quate, 258.  Distinction  between  Greek  and  Christian  incarnations 
of  deity,  259,  Fate  and  Oracles,  260. 

CHAPTER  III.  THE  POLITICAL  WORK  OF  ART. — Democracy  adapted  to 
the  grade  of  development  occupied  by  the  Greeks,  260.  The  Se\en 
Sages,  practical  politicians.  Solon — Athenian  Democracy.  Montes- 
quieu's remark  on  Democracy.  Law  with  the  Greeks  is  Customary 
Morality,  261.  Immanent  Objective  Morality  essential  to  the  healthy 
working  of  a  Democratic  constitution,  262.  Patriotic  sentiment  of  the 
Greeks — Not  an  enthusiasm  for  an  abstract  principle.  Sophists  intro- 
duced subjective  reflection,  which  led  to  the  decline  of  national  life, 
263.  Great  men  as  legislators  and  statesmen  enjoyed  the  confidence 
of  the  people  during  the  prosperous  times  of  Greece — Greek  Demo- 
cracy connected  with  Oracles,  264.  Slavery  another  characteristic  of 
the  Greek  polity — Democratical  constitutions  attached  to  small  states, 
often  to  single  cities  of  no  great  extent — The  French  Democracy  con- 
stituted no  vital  and  concrete  unity,  but  a  mere  Paper  World,  265-6. 
The  War  with  the  Persians.  Summary  view  of  the  struggle,  267. 
Victories  of  the  Greeks  and  the  undying  interest  attached  to  them — 
Athens  and  Sparta,  268.  Athena.  Mixed  population  —  Solonian 
Constitution — Pisistratus,  269.  Advance  of  the  Democratic  principle 
— Pericles,  270.  Free  play  for  the  development  of  individual  charac- 
ter at  Athens,  resulting  in  a  noble  intellectual  and  artistic  develop- 
ment, 271.  Funeral  oration  of  Pericles.  272.  Sparta.  Early  stages 
of  its  development  very  different  from  those  of  Athenian  history. 
Dorian  invasion — Subjugation  of  the  Helots.  The  Lycurgian  Consti- 
tution, 273-4.  Defects  of  Spartan  culture. — Standpoint  of  the  Greek 
Spirit,  275.  The  Peloponncsian  War.  Isolation  of  the  Greek  states. 
The  Athenian  Hegemony — Struggle  between  Athens  and  Sparta, 
277.  Spartan  oppression — Temporary  preponderance  of  Thebes — 
Subjectivity  characteristic  of  Theban  character,  278.  Cause  of  the 
decay  of  the  Greek  World,  279.  The  Sophists,  280.  Socrates  the 
Inventor  of  Morality. — Established  an  Ideal  world  alien  to  the  Real 
one,  281.  Condemnation  of  Socrates,  its  interest  in  connection  with 
the  decay  of  the  Greek  World.  Aristophanes— Decline  of  Athens 
and  that  of  Sparta  contrasted,  282. 

The  Macedonian  Empire.  The  Insult  to  the  Delphian  Apollo  destroys 
the  last  support  of  unity  in  Greece — Establishment  of  a  real  authori- 
tative royalty  by  Philip.  Alexander's  inherited  advantages,  283. 
His  education — invasion  of  the  East — early  death — Extent  and  im- 
portance of  his  empire,  284.  Alexandria  a  centre  of  Scie;  ce  and  Art 
— the  point  of  union  for  Eastern  and  Western  culture,  286. 


xxxiv  Coir  TENTS. 

SECTION  TIL    FALL  OF  THE  GREEK  SPIRIT 

Intellectual  vitality  still  preserved  to  some  extent  in  Athens — Relation! 
of  Greek  States  to  foreign  powers— Achasan  league — Attempts  of  Agis 
and  Cleomenes,  Aratus  and  Philopoemen  to  resuscitate  Greece.  Con- 
tact with  the  Romans,  286-9. 

PART  III.     THE  ROMAN  WORLD. 

Napoleon's  observation,  "  La  politique  est  la  fatalite."  The  Roman 
World  the  crushing  Destiny  that  aimed  to  destroy  all  concrete  life  in 
states  and  individuals,  compelling  the  soul  to  take  refuge  in  such  a 
supersensuous  world  as  Christianity  offers,  289.  Abstract  personality — 
the  legal  right  of  the  individual,  established  by  Rome — General  aspect 
of  the  political  world  of  Rome,  290.  Treatment  of  its  annals  by  His- 
torians, Philologists,  and  Jurists — Locality  of  Rome — Question"  of  an 
Italian  capital  discussed  by  Napoleon  in  his  "  Memoirs."  Italy  presents 
no  natural  unity,  291.  Division  of  Roman  History,  292-3. 

SECTION  I.     ROME  TO  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SECOND  PUNIC 
WAR. 

CHAPTER  I.  THE  ELEMENTS  or  THE  ROMAN  SPIRIT. — First  establish- 
ment of  Rome,  293.  Romulus — Artificial  foundation  of  the  State, 
294-5.  Patricians  and  Plebeians — Debts  and  laws  respecting  them, 
296.  Roman  harshness  in  respect  to  the  family  relation.  Marriage 
and  the  condition  of  wives,  298.  Strict  subordination  of  Roman  citi- 
zens to  the  state  and  its  usages,  298.  The  pr^se  of  life  characteristic 
of  the  Roman  World — Prosaic  character  of  Etruscan  art.  To  the 
Romans  we  owe  the  development  of  positive  Law,  299.  Spirit  of  the 
mythological  conceptions  of  the  Romans  to  be  carefully  distinguished 
from  that  of  the  Greeks,  300.  Mystery  characterizing  the  Roman  re- 
ligion—  Number  and  minuteness  of  ceremonial  observances  —  The 
Sacra,  301.  Self-seeking  character  of  Roman  religion.  302.  Prosaic 
utilitarian  divinities  contrasted  with  the  free  and  beautiful  conceptions 
of  the  Greeks,  303.  The  Saturnalia — Adoption  of  Greek  divinities  — 
Frigid  use  of  them  in  Roman  poetry,  304.  Public  games  of  the  Romans 
— The  people  generally  were  spectators  only — Cruelty  of  public  spec- 
tacles. Superstition  and  self-seeking  the  chief  characteristics  of  Roman 
religion,  305.  Religion  made  to  serve  the  purposes  of  the  Patricians — 
No  genial  vitality  uniting  the  whole  state  as  in  the  Greek  Polis — Each 
"  gens  "  sternly  retains  its  peculiarities,  306. 

CHAPTER  II.  HISTORY  OF  ROME  TO  THE  SECOND  PUNIC  WAR. — First 
period  of  Roman  History — The  Kings,  307-309.  Expulsion  of  the 
Kings  by  the  patricians — Consuls  Struggles  between  the  patricians 
and  the  plebs,  310-313.  The  Agrarian  Laws,  314.  Excitement  of 
civil  contest  diverted  into  the  channel  of  foreign  wars — Roman  com- 
pared with  Greek  armies,  3 1 5.  Gradual  extension  of  Roman  dominion, 
316,  317 


CONTENTS.  XXXV 

SECTION  IT.     ROME  FROM  THE  SECOND  PUNIC  WAR  TO  THE 
EMPERORS. 

Power  of  Carthage — Hannibal,  317.  Conquest  of  Macedonia — Antio- 
ch us— Fall  of  Carthage  and  of  Corinth— The  Scipios,  318.  When  the 
excitement  of  war  is  over,  the  Romans  have  no  resources  of  Art  of 
Intellect  to  fall  back  upon,  319.  Treatment  of  conquered  provinces. 
— Increase  of  luxury  and  debauchery  in  Rome.  The  legacy  of  Atta- 
lus— The  Gracchi,  320.  Jugurtha — Mithridates — Sulla — Marius  and 
Cinna-  The  Servile  War,  321.  Great  individuals  now  appear  on  the 
stage  of  political  life  in  Rome,  as  during  the  period  of  the  decline  of 
Greece — Pompey  and  Caesar — Triumph  of  the  latter,  322.  Impossi- 
bility of  preserving  the  republican  constitution — Short-sighted  views 
of  Cicero  and  Cato,  323.  Character  and  achievements  of  Caesar — 
Hallucination  which  led  to  his  assassination,  324.  Rise  of  Augustus. 
A  revolution  is  sanctioned  in  men's  opinions  when  it  repeats  itself 
— Napoleon  and  the  Bourbons,  325. 

SECTION  ITT. 

CHAPTER  I.  ROME  UNDER  THE  EMPERORS. — Position  of  the  Ruler  and 
the  Subjects — Theforiner  an  absolute  despot  supported  by  the  army, 
the  latter  united  by  purely  legal  relations,  all  concrete  and  genial  in- 
terests being  annulled,  325,  326.  Personal  character  of  the  Emperors 
a  matter  of  small  importance  to  the  empire,  327.  The  recognition  of 
Private  Right  the  result  of  this  absolute  despotism — Dissolution  of 
the  political  body  into  its  component  atoms,  328.  Public  and  political 
interests  have  lost  all  charm,  and  men  fall  back  upon  mere  sensuous 
enjoyment  or  philosophic  indifference— Prevalence  of  Stoicism,  Epi- 
cureanism and  Scepticism,  329. 

CHAPTER  II.  CHRISTIANITY.  —  Julius  Caesar  inaugurated  the  'real' 
side  of  the  Modern  World :  its  spiritual  and  inward  existence  was  un- 
folded under  Augustus — Crushing  despotism  of  the  Empire  opens  the 
way  for  Christianity,  330.  The  Greek,  Roman  and  Christian  grades  of 
self-consciousness,  331.  Despotism  of  Rome,  the  discipline  of  the 
World — Import  of  Discipline,  332.  Moral  introspection  the  charac  - 
teristic  of  the  Jewish  World — The  Psalms  and  Prophets — Connection 
of  Knowledge  with  Sin  in  the  Biblical  Narrative  of  the  Fall,  333. 
Annulling  of  their  nationality  and  loss  of  all  temporal  good  reduces 
the  Jewish  Spirit  to  seek  satisfaction  in  God  alone — God  recognized 
as  pure  Spirit  in  Christianity,  334,  335.  The  Trinity,  336.  Incarna- 
tion of  God  in  Christ  its  full  import— distinguished  from  Lamaistic 
and  similar  conceptions,  337.  Miracles — The  formation  of  the  Church 
— Christ's  own  teaching,  338.  Polemical  aspect  of  that  teaching  to 
secular  interests  and  relations — Nowhere  are  such  revolutionary  utter-, 
ances  to  be  found  as  in  the  Gospels,  339,  340.  Origination  of  the 
CHURCH — Development  of  doctrine  by  the  Apostles — Relation  of  early 
Christianity  to  the  Empire,  341.  Connection  of  Christian  doctrine 
with  the  Philosophy  of  the  time — Union  of  the  abstract  idea  of  God 
that  originated  in  the  West  with  the  concrete  and  imaginative  con- 
ceptions  characteristic  of  the  East — Alexandria — Philo — the  Aoyoc, 


IXXV1  CONTENTS. 

341,  342.  Attempt  of  the  Alexandrians  to  rationalize  Paganism ;  and  of 
Philo  and  Christian  writers  to  spiritualize  the  narrative  parts  of  the 
Old  Testament,  343.  The  Nicene  settlement  of  doctrine — Internal 
and  external  aspect  of  the  Church — Rise  of  an  ecclesiastical  organi- 
zation, 344.  The  Eccltaiastical  distinguished  from  the  Spiritual 
Kingdom,  345.  Recognition  of  Human  dignity:  the  result  of  Christi- 
anity— Slavery  incompatible  with  it — Mere  customary  morality  abro- 
gated— Oracles  cease  to  be  respected,  346,  347.  Imbuing  of  secular 
life  with  the  Christian  principle,  a  work  of  time — Religion  and  "  the 
World  "  not  necessarily  opposed  to  each  other — Rational  Freedom  the 
harmonization  of  the  Religious  and  the  Secular —  This  harmonization 
the  destiny  of  the  German  peoples,  347,  348. 

CHAPTER  III.  THE  BYZANTINE  EMPIKE. — Progress  of  Christianity — 
Division  of  the  Empire,  349.  Fall  of  the  Roman  power  in  the  West — 
Contrast  between  the  East  and  the  West,  350.  Powerlessness  of  the 
abstract  profession  of  Christianity  in  the  Byzantine  Empire,  to  restrain 
crime,  351.  Violent  and  sanguinary  religious  feuds  in  Constantinople 
— Gregory  Nazianzen  cited,  352.  Image- Worship — Aspect  of  Byzan- 
tine History  down  to  the  conquest  of  Constantinople  by  the  Turks, 
353. 

PART  IV.    THE  GERMAN  WORLD. 

The  German  Spirit  that  of  the  Modern  World— The  German  people* 
destined  to  be  the  bearers  of  the  Christian  principle — German  de- 
velopment contrasted  with  that  of  Greece  and  Rome,  354.  The 
Christian  World  that  of  completion — Bearing  of  this  fact  on  the 
division  of  the  Modern  World  into  historical  periods — The  Religion 
of  the  Ancient  Germans  struck  no  deep  root  among  them :  Tacitus'  de- 
scription of  them  as  "  Securi  adversns  Deos"  355.  Germans  came  in 
contact  with  a  fully  developed  Ecclesiastical  and  Secular  culture — The 
German  world  apparently  a  continuation  of  the  Roman — But  a  new 
spirit  characterizes  them — Evolution  of  the  antithesis  between  Church 
and  State — Division  of  the  German  World  into  three  periods — (l)From 
the  appearance  of  the  Germans  in  the  Roman  Empire  to  Charlemagne 
—(2)  Period  of  Contest  between  Church  and  State— (3)  That  in  which 
Secularity  obtains  a  consciousness  of  its  intrinsic  moral  value,  and 
Rational  Freedom  is  achieved,  i.  e.  from  the  Reformation  to  our  own 
times,  356, 357.  The  German  world  presents  a  repetition  (by  analogy) 
of  earlier  epochs— Comparison  with  the  Persian,  Greek  and  Roman 
World,  358,  359. 

SECTION  I.    THE  ELEMENTS   OF  THE   CHRISTIAN    GERMAN 
WORLD. 

CHAPTER  I.  THE  BARBARIAN  MIGRATIONS. — Individual  freedom  a 
characteristic  of  the  ancient  Germans — Causes  of  the  invasion  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  360.  Duplicate  condition  of  the  great  Teutonic 
families — Various  tribes  of  Germans.  361 — Romanic  and  Germanic 
nations  of  Europe — the  former  comprising  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal  and 
France,  the  latter  Germany  itself,  Scandinavia  and  England,  362.  The 
Schives — their  immigration  and  relation  to  the  rest  of  Europe — Have 


CONTENTS.  XX  XV 11 

not  yet  appeared  as  an  independent  phase  of  Reason,  whatever  they 
may  become  in  the  Future— The  German  Nation  characterized  by 
"Heart"  [Gemuth]— "  Heart "  distinguished  from  Character,  363. 
Aspect  which  their  idiosyncrasy  presents  to  Christianity,  364,  365. 
Keligion  of  the  ancient  Germans — Deficiency  in  depth  of  moral  senti- 
ment, 366.  Free  confederations  united  by  fealty — Political  relations 
not  founded  on  general  principles,  but  split  up  into  private  rights  and 
obligations,  367.  Violence  of  passions  not  restrained  by  religion  in 
the  early  periods  of  the  German  World — Transition  from  secular 
excesses  to  religious  enthusiasm  and  seclusion,  368,  369. 

CHAPTER  II.  MAIIOMETANISM. — Absorption  in  one  Idea  characteristic 
of  Mahometanism — the  polar  and  supplemental  opposite  of  the  splitting 
up  into  particularity  that  distinguishes  the  German  World,  369,  370. 
Comparison  of  Mahometanism  with  other  forms  of  Faith — Origin  and 
progress  of  the  Mussulman  faith  and  arms,  371.  Fanaticism  of  the 
Mahometans  -  La  n  ligion  et  la  ferreur  the  Moslem  principle,  as  with 
Robespierre  La  Wn-rU  et  l«  ferrenr — Instability  of  their  political  or- 
ganizations, 372  Kapid  rise  of  Arts  and  Sciences  among  them,  373. 
Mussulman  revolutions — European  struggle  with  the  Saracens — 
Goethe's  "  Divan,"  374. 

CHAPTER  III.  THE  EMPIRE  OF  CHARLEMAGNE — Constitution  of  the 
Frank  Empire — Feudal  System — Rise  of  the  "  Mayors  of  the  Palace." 
Pepin  le  Brtf,  375.  Charlemagne — Extent  of  his  Empire — Its  com- 
plete organization,  376,  377  Administration  of  Justice — Ecclesiasti- 
cal affairs— Imperial  Council,  378,  379.  Causes  of  the  instability  of 
the  political  organization  established  by  Charlemagne,  380. 

SECTION  II.    THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

Reactions  occasioned  by  the  infinite  falsehood  which  rules  the  destinies  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  (1)  That  of  particular  nationalities  against  the 
universal  sovereignty  of  the  Frank  Empire.  (2)  That  of  individuals 
against  legal  authority.  (3)  That  of  the  spiritual  element  against  the 
existing  order  of  things.  The  Crusades  the  culminating  epoch  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  380,  381. 

CHAPTER  I.  THE  FEUDALITY  AND  THE  HIERARCHY. — First  reaction 
— Separation  of  the  French  from  the  Germans— Italian  andBurgun- 
dian  Kingdoms,  &c.  Invasion  by  the  Norsemen  of  England,  Prance, 
and  Germany,  382.  Magyar  and  Saracen  inroads — Inefficiency  of 
the  military  organization  formed  by  Charlemagne,  383.  Second  re- 
action— Capacity  of  appreciating  the  advantages  of  legal  order  not  yet 
attained — Protection  afforded  by  powerful  individuals — "  Feuduin  " 
and  "fides,"  384,385.  The  Imperial  dignity  an  empty  title— The 
state  broken  up  into  petty  sovereignties,  386.  Hugh  Capet — the  na- 
ture of  his  power — France  divided  into  several  Duchies  and  Earldoms 
— Conquest  of  England  by  William  Duke  of  Normandy,  387.  State 
of  Germany  and  Italy  —  Right  vanishing  before  individual  Might. 
Third  reaction — that  of  Universality  against  the  Real  World  split  up 
into  particularity — chiefly  promoted  by  the  Church,  388.  Close  of  the 
World  expected  in  the  eleventh  century — Ecclesiastical  affairs,  389. 


1XXV111  t    CONTENTS. 

Gregory  VII.  enforces  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  sad  contend*  agunH 
Simony,  390.  Increasing  power  of  the  Church— "  Truce  of  God," 
391.  Spiritual  element  in  the  Church — Design  of  the  Mass,  392. 
Laity  and  Clergy,  393.  Mediation  of  the  Saints,  394.  False  separa- 
tion of  the  Spiritual  from  the  Secular,  395.  Celibacy,  Religious  Pau- 
perism and  the  Obedience  of  Blind  Credulity  opposed  to  true  morality, 
396.  The  Mediaeval  Church  and  State  involved  in  contradictions — 
Absurdity  of  modern  laudations  of  the  Middle  Ayes.  Growth  of  Feu- 
dal System,  side  by  side  with  that  of  secularized  Church  power — Rise  of 
architectural  art — of  maritime  commerce — of  the  Sciences  —  Growing 
importance  of  the  Towns,  399.  Freedom  reviving  in  the  town  com- 
munities— Defensive  organization — Formation  of  Guilds,  400,  401. 
Struggles  between  the  cities  and  the  nobility,  and  internal  factions, 
402.  Struggle  of  the  Emperor  with  the  cities  and  with  the  Church — 
Guelf  and  Ghibelline  contest — Dante — The  House  of  Hohenstaufen 
and  the  Papal  power— Termination  of  the  contest,  403-405. 

CHAPTER  II. — THE  CRUSADES. — Analysis  of  the  impulse  that  led  to 
the  Crusades,  405-408. — Conduct  and  results  of  the  expedition,  408. 
Spiritual  result  of  the  Crusades,  409.  Wars  with  the  Moors  in  Spain, 
Crusades  against  the  Albigenses,  410.  Culmination  of  the  authority 
of  the  Church  in  the  Crusades,  but  its  power  weakened  through  their 
failure,  411.  Monastic  and  Chivalric  Orders,  their  Spiritual  import, 
412-414.  Science — Scholastic  Philosophy — Intellectual  jousting, 
414,415. 

CHAPTER  III. — TRANSITION  FROM  FEUDALISM  TO  MONARCHY.  Forms 
of  Transition  from  feudal  to  monarchical  sway,  415-417.  State  of 
Germany — Leagues  of  Nations,  418.  Peasant  fraternities — Invention 
of  Gunpowder — its  results  to  civilization,  419.  Italy — Reduction  of 
feudal  power  by  Sovereigns. — Machiavelli's  "  Prince,"  420  France 
— Increasing  power  of  Kings — States-general  called,  421.  England — 
Ma^rna  Charta — House  of  Commons,  422.  Revolts  against  Papal 
power — Arnold  of  Brescia,  Wickliffe  and  Huss,  423.  Disciplinary 
Influence  of  the  Church  and  of  Serfdom — Results,  424,  425. 

Art  and  Science  putting  a  period  to  the  Middle  A'jcs. — Religious  Art, 
Spiritual  import  of,  425,  426.  Study  of  Antiquity.  Revival  of  the 
Study  of  Greek  literature  occasioned  by  the  fall  of  the  Eastern  Empire 
— New  world  of  ideas  opened. — The  Art  of  Printing,  427.  Dis- 
covery of  the  passage  to  India  by  the  Cape,  and  of  America,  428. 

SECTION  III.    THE  MODERN  TIME. 

The  third  period  of  the  German  World — Spirit  becomes  conscious  of  it* 
Freedom,  428.  (1)  The  Reformation;  (2)  The  state  of  things  imme- 
diately resulting  from  it;  (3)  Period  from  the  end  of  the  last  century 
to  the  present  day. 

CHAPTER  I.    THE  REFORMATION. — The  Reformation  resulted  from  the 
'    corruption  of  the  Church ;  but  this  corruption  was  no  accidental  pheno- 
menon— It  arose  from  the  enshrinement  of  the  sensuous  and  material 
in  the  inmost  being  of  the  Church,  429.    Luther's  doctrine  of  Faith,  432 


COSTEITTS.  JCXX11 

His  views  of  the  Eucharist— more  in  accordance  with  the  Catholic  than 
wkh  the  Calvinistic  Church  — Subjective  Feeling  as  well  as  Objective 
Truth  regarded  in  the  Lutheran  Church  as  essential  to  salvation,  433. 
The  banner  of  Free  Spirit — The  essence  of  the  Reformation  is  that 
Man  is  destined  to  be  free,  434.  Gradual  expansion  of  Luther's  views 
— Denies  the  Authority  of  the  Church — Incalculable  value  to  the 
Germans  of  Luther's  translation  of  the  Bible — The  Bible  a  People's 
Book,  435.  Council  of  Trent  stereotyped  Catholic  dogmas  and 
rendered  reconciliation  between  Catholics  and  Protestants  impossible 
— Hostility  of  the  Church  to  Science  — Galileo,  436.  Why  was  the 
Reformation  confined  to  Germanic  nations?  Answer  to  this  question 
must  be  referred  to  essential  differences  of  national  character — Napo- 
leon's view  of  religion — Antipathy  of  cultivated  Frenchmen  to  Protes- 
tantism, 437-439.  Relation  of  the  Reformed  doctrine  to  social  life 
— Celibacy  repudiated — Condemnation  of  "  Usury"  by  the  Church — 
Obedience  of  blind  credulity  renounced,  440,  441.  Slow  introduction 
of  the  principles  of  the  Reformation  into  political  life — Influence  on 
religious  consciousness  of  the  individual — Painfully  introspective  ten- 
dencies, 442.  The  Power  of  Evil — Witchcraft— Legend  of  Faust  - 
Trials  for  witchcraft — Long  continuance  of  these  superstitious  cruel- 
ties, 444. 

CHAPTER  II.  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  REFORMATION  ON  POLITICAL  DE- 
VELOPMENT.—Establishment  of  hereditary  monarchy --Conversion  of 
rights  of  the  great  vassals  into  official  positions  and  functions — Origi- 
nation of  standing  armies,  445,  446.  Chivalric  Spirit  of  Spain — 
The  Inquisition — Assistance  afforded  by  it  to  the  throne — Suppression 
of  aristocratic  power  in  Europe — Proper  office  of  an  aristocracy,  447, 
448.  System  of  European  States— International  wars  —Conquest  aimed 
at — Italy  an  especial  object  of  desire — Disintegration  characteristic  of 
Italy — Love  of  the  Fine  Arts  tends  to  make  Italians  indifferent  to 
political  matters — "  Balance  of  Power,"  449.  Sovereigns  threatening 
to  disturb  the  Balance  of  Power — Charles  V.  Louis  XIV.  450.  The 
Thirty  Years'  War,  452.  The  "  Great  Rebellion  "  in  England,  453. 
The  Peace  of  Westphalia,  454.  Richelieu's  policy,  455.  Consolida- 
tion of  Prussia  by  Frederick  the  Great,  456. 

CHAPTER  III.  THE  ECLAIRCISSEMENT  AND  REVOLUTION. — Experi- 
mental Science,  Descartes,  458.  Merits  of  Frederick  the  Great,  460. 
Kant,  462.  Analysis  of  the  principles  of  the  French  Revolution: 
How  far  connected  with  Philosophy:  Grand  Problem  of  the  Age, 
463.  The  Constitution,  469.  Robespierre— Napoleon,  470.  Rela- 
tion of  France,  Italy  and  Spain  to  the  Revolution,  472.  Why  did  not 
England  adopt  it  ?  473.  Analysis  of  the  English  Constitution,  474. 
State  of  Germany,  475.  The  Goal  of  History,  476, 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  subject  of  this  course  of  Lectures  is  the  Philosophical 
History  of'  the  World.  And  by  this  must  be  understood, 
not  a  collection  of  general  observations  respecting  it,  sug- 
gested by  the  study  of  its  records,  and  proposed  to  be  illus- 
trated by  its  facts,  but  Universal  History  itself.*  To  gain  a 
clear  idea  at  the  outset,  of  the  nature  of  our  task,  it  seems 
necessary  to  begin  with  an  examination  of  the  other  methods 
of  treating  History.  The  various  methods  may  be  ranged 
under  three  heads: 

I.  Original  History. 
II.  Eeflective  History. 
III.  Philosophical  History. 

I.  Of  the  first  kind,  the  mention  of  one  or  two  distinguished 
names  will  furnish  a  definite  type.  To  this  category  belong 
Herodotus,  Thucydides,  and  other  historians  of  the  same 
order,  whose  descriptions  are  for  the  most  part  limited  to 
deeds,  events,  and  states  of  society,  which  they  had  before 
their  eyes,  and  whose  spirit  they  shared.  They  simply  trans- 
ferred what  was  passing  in  the  world  around  them,  to  the 
realm  of  re-presentative  intellect.  An  external  phenomenon 
is  thus  translated  into  an  internal  conception.  In  the  same 
way  the  poet  operates  upon  the  material  supplied  him  by 
his  emotions  ;  projecting  it  into  an  image  for  the  conceptive 
faculty.  These  original  historians  did,  it  is  true,  find  state- 
ments and  narratives  of  other  men  ready  to  hand.  One 
person  cannot  be  an  eye  and  ear  witness  of  everything. 
But  they  make  use  of  such  aids  only  as  the  poet  does  of  that 

*  I  cannot  mention  any  work  that  will  serve  as  a  compendium  of  the 
course,  but  I  may  remark  that  in  my  "  Outlines  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Law,"  §§  341-360, 1  have  already  given  a  definition  of  such  a  Universal 
History  as  it  is  proposed  to  develope,  and  a  syllabus  of  the  chief  element* 
or  periods  into  which  it  naturally  divides  itaelf. 

A 


t  IKTEODUCTIOW. 

heritage  of  au  already-formed  language,  to  which  he  owes  so 
much  ;  merely  as  an  ingredient.  Historiographers  bind  to- 
gether the  fleeting  elements  of  story,  and  treasure  them  up 
for  immortality  in  the  Temple  of  Mnemosyne.  Legends, 
Ballad-stories,  Traditions  must  be  excluded  from  such  ori- 
ginal history.  These  are  but  dim  and  hazy  forms  of  histo- 
rical apprehension,  and  therefore  belong  to  nations  whose 
intelligence  is  but  half  awakened.  Here,  on  the  contrary,  we 
have  to  do  with  people  fully  conscious  of  what  they  wen. 
and  what  they  were  about.  The  domain  of  reality — actually 
seen,  or  capable  of  being  so — affords  a  very  different  basis  in 
point  of  firmness  from  that  fugitive  and  shadowy  element, 
in  which  were  engendered  those  legends  and  poetic  dreams 
whose  historical  prestige  vanishes,  as  soon  as  nations  have 
attained  a  mature  individuality. 

Such  original  historians,  then,  change  the  events,  the  deeds 
and  the  states  of  society  with  which  they  are  conversant, 
into  an  object  for  the  conceptive  faculty.  The  narratives  they 
leave  us  cannot,  therefore,  be  very  comprehensive  in  their 
range.  Herodotus,  Thucydides,  G-uicciardini,  may  be  taken 
as  fair  samples  of  the  class  in  this  respect.  What  is  present 
and  living  in  their  environment,  is  their  proper  material. 
The  influences  that  have  formed  the  writer  are  identical  with 
those  which  have  moulded  the  events  that  constitute  the 
matter  of  his  story.  The  author's  spirit,  and  that  of  the 
actions  he  narrates,  is  one  and  the  same.  He  describes 
scenes  in  which  he  himself  has  been  an  actor,  or  at  any  rate 
an  interested  spectator.  It  is  short  periods  of  time,  indi- 
vidual shapes  of  persons  and  occurrences,  single,  unreflected 
traits,  of  which  he  makes  his  picture.  •  And  his  aim  is  no- 
thing more  than  the  presentation  to  posterity  of  an  image  of 
events  as  clear  as  that  which  he  himself  possessed  in  virtue 
of  personal  observation,  or  life-like  descriptions.  Reflections 
are  none  of  his  business,  for  he  lives  in  the  spirit  of  his  sub- 
ject ;  he  has  not  attained  an  elevation  above  it.  If,  as  in 
Caesar's  case,  he  belongs  to  the  exalted  rank  of  generals  or 
statesmen,  it  is  the  prosecution  of  his  own  aims  that  con- 
stitutes the  history. 

Such  speeches  as  we  find  in  Thucydides  (for  example)  of 
which  we  can  positively  assert  that  they  are  not  bond  fide 
reports,  would  seem  to  make  against  our  statement  that  a 


ORIGINAL   HJ8TOBY.  3 

historian  of  his  class  presents  us  no  reflected  picture  ;  that 
persons  and  people  appear  in  his  works  in  proprid  persona, 
Speeches,  it  must  be  allowed,  are  veritable  transactions  in 
the  human  commonwealth ;  in  fact,  very  gravely  influential 
transactions.  It  is,  indeed,  often  said,  "  Such  and  such 
things  are  only  talk ;"  by  way  of  demonstrating  their  harm- 
lessness.  That  for  which  this  excuse  is  brought,  may  be 
mere  "  talk ;"  and  talk  enjoys  the  important  privilege 
of  being  harmless.  But  addresses  of  peoples  to  peoples,  or 
orations  directed  to  nations  and  to  princes,  are  integrant 
constituents  of  history.  Granted  that  such  orations  as 
those  of  Pericles — that  most  profoundly  accomplished,  ge- 
nuine, noble  statesman — were  elaborated  by  Thucydides ;  it 
must  yet  be  maintained  that  they  were  not  foreign  to  the 
character  of  the  speaker.  In  the  orations  in  question,  these 
men  proclaim  the  maxims  adopted  by  their  countrymen,  and 
which  formed  their  own  character  ;  they  record  their  views 
of  their  political  relations,  and  of  their  moral  and  spiritual 
nature  ;  and  the  principles  of  their  designs  and  conduct. 
What  the  historian  puts  into  their  mouths  is  no  suppositi- 
tious system  of  ideas,  but  an  uncorrupted  transcript  of  their 
intellectual  and  moral  habitudes. 

Of  these  historians,  whom  we  must  make  thoroughly  our 
own,  with  whom  we  must  linger  long,  if  we  would  live  with 
their  respective  nations,  and  enter  deeply  into  their  spirit : 
of  these  historians,  to  whose  pages  we  may  turn  not  for  the 
purposes  of  erudition  merely,  but  with  a  view  to  deep  and  ge- 
nuine enjoyment,  there  are  fewer  than  might  be  imagined. 
Herodotus  the  Father,  i.e.  the  Founder  of  History,  and  Thu- 
cydides have  been  already  mentioned.  Xenophon's  Retreat  of 
the  Ten  Thousand,  is  a  work  equally  original.  Cesar's  Com- 
mentaries are  the  simple  masterpiece  of  a  mighty  spirit. 
Among  the  ancients,  these  annalists  were  necessarily  great 
captains  and  statesmen.  In  the  Middle  Ages,  if  we  except 
the  Bishops,  who  were  placed  in  the  very  centre  of  the  poli- 
tical world,  the  Monks  monopolize  this  category  as  naive 
chroniclers  who  were  as  decidedly  isolated  from  active  life  as 
those  elder  annalists  had  been  connected  with  it.  In  modern 
times  the  relations  are  entirely  altered.  Our  culture  is  es- 
sentially comprehensive,  and  immediately  changes  all  events 
into  historical  representations,  Belonging  to  the  class  in 


question,  we  have  vivid,  simple,  clear  narrations— especially 
of  military  transactions — which  might  fairly  take  their  place 
with  those  of  Csesar.  In  richness. of  matter  and  fulness  of 
detail  as  regards  strategic  appliances,  and  attendant  cir- 
cumstances, they  are  even  more  instructive.  The  French 
"  Meinoires  "  also,  fall  under  this  category.  In  many  cases 
these  are  written  by  men  of  mark,  though  relating  to  affairs  of 
attle  note.  They  not  unfrequently  contain  a  large  proportion 
of  anecdotical  matter,  so  that  the  ground  they  occupy  is 
narrow  and  trivial.  Yet  they  are  often  veritable  master- 
pieces in  history  ;  as  those  of  Cardinal  Eetz,  which  in  fact 
trench  on  a  larger  historical  field.  In  Germany  such  masters 
are  rare.  Frederick  the  Great  ("  Histoire  de  mon  temps") 
is  an  illustrious  exception.  Writers  of  this  order  must  oc- 
cupy an  elevated  position.  Only  from  such  a  position  is  it 
possible  to  take  an  extensive  view  of  affairs — to  see  every- 
thing. This  is  out  of  the  question  for  him,  who  from  below 
merely  gets  a  glimpse  of  the  great  world  through  a  miserable 
cranny. 

II.  The  second  kind  of  history  we  may  call  the  reflective 
It  is  history  whose  mode  of  representation  is  not  really  con- 
fined by  the  limits  of  the  time  to  which  it  relates,  but  whose 
ipirit  transcends  the  present.  In  this  second  order  a  strongly 
marked  variety  of  species  may  be  distinguished. 

1.  It  is  the  aim  of  the  investigator  to  gain  a  view  of  the 
entire  history  of  a  people  or  a  country,  or  of  the  world,  in 
short,  what  we  call  Universal  History.  In  this  case  the 
working  up  of  the  historical  material  is  the  main  point. 
The  workman  approaches  his  task  with  Ms  own  spirit ;  a 
epirit  distinct  from  that  of  the  element  he  is  to  manipulate. 
Here  a  very  important  consideration  will  be  the  principles  to 
which  the  author  refers  the  bearing  and  motives  of  the 
actions  and  events  which  he  describes,  and  those  which  de- 
termine the  form  of  his  narrative.  Among  us  Germans  this 
reflective  treatment  and  the  display  of  ingenuity  which  it 
occasions,  assume  a  manifold  variety  of  phases.  Every 
writer  of  history  proposes  to  himself  an  original  method. 
The  English  and  French  confess  to  general  principles  of  his- 
torical composition.  Their  stand-point  is  more  that  of  cos- 
mopolitan or  of  national  culture.  Among  us  each  labours  to 
invent  a  purely  individual  point  of  view.  Instead  of  writing 


REFLECTIVE   HISTOEY.  O 

Sriotory,  we  are  always  beating  our  brains  to  discover  hoiv 
history  ought  to  be  written.  This  first  kind  of  Reflective 
History  is  most  nearly  akin  to  the  preceding,  when  it  has  no 
farther  aim  than  to  present  the  annals  of  a  country  complete. 
Such  compilations  (among  which  may  be  reckoned  the  works 
of  Livy,  Diodorus  Siculus,  Johannes  von  Miiller's  History  of 
Switzerland)  are,  if  well  performed,  highly  meritorious. 
Among  the  best  of  the  kind  may  be  reckoned  such  annalists 
as  approach  those  of  the  first  class  ;  who  give  so  vivid  a  tran> 
script  of  events  that  the  reader  may  well  fancy  himself  lis- 
tening to  contemporaries  and  eye-witnesses.  But  it  often 
happens  that  the  individuality  of  tone  which  must  charac- 
terize a  writer  belonging  to  a  different  culture,  is  not  modified 
in  accordance  with  the  periods  such  a  record  must  traverse. 
The  spirit  of  the  writer  is  quite  other  than  that  of  the  times 
of  which  he  treats.  Thus  Livy  puts  into  the  mouths  of  the 
old  Roman  kings,  consuls,  and  generals,  such  orations  as 
would  be  delivered  by  an  accomplished  advocate  of  the  Livian 
era,  and  which  strikingly  contrast  with  the  genuine  tradi- 
tions of  Roman  antiquity  (e.  g.  the  fable  of  Menenius 
Agrippa.)  In  the  same  way  he  gives  us  descriptions  of 
battles,  as  if  he  had  been  an  actual  spectator  ;  but  whose 
features  would  serve  well  enough  for  battles  in  any  period, 
and  whose  distinctness  contrasts  on  the  other  hand  with  the 
want  of  connection  and  the  inconsistency  that  prevail  else- 
where, even  in  his  treatment  of  chief  points  of  interest.  The 
difference  between  such  a  compiler  and  an  original  historian 
inay  be  best  seen  by  comparing  Polybius  himself  with  the 
style  in  which  Livy  uses,  expands,  and  abridges  his  annals 
in  those  periods  of  which  Polybius's  account  has  been  pre- 
served. Johannes  von  Muller  has  given  a  stiff,  formal,  pe- 
dantic aspect  to  his  history,  in  the  endeavour  to  remain 
faithful  in  his  portraiture  to  the  times  he  describes.  We 
much  prefer  the  narratives  we  find  in  old  Tschudy.  All  4s 
more  naive  and  natural  than  it  appears  in  the  garb  of  a  fic- 
titious and  affected  archaism. 

A  history  which  aspires  to  traverse  long  periods  of  time, 
or  to  be  universal,  must  indeed  forego  the  attempt  to  give 
individual  representations  of  the  past  as  it  actually  existed. 
It  must  foreshorten  its  pictures  by  abstractions;  and  this  in- 
cludes not  merely  the  omission  of  events  and  deeds,  but  what- 


f>  INTRODUCTION. 

e*er  is  involved  in  the  fact  that  Thought  is,  after  all,  tlup 
riioafc  trenchant  epitomist.  A  battle,  a  great  victory,  a  -iege 
no  longer  maintains  its  original  proportions,  but  is  p*  «  «i? 
with  a  bare  mention.  "When  Livy  e.  g.  tells  us  of  the  waiw 
with  the  Volsci,  we  sometimes  have  the  brief  announcement  i 
"  This  year  war  was  carried  on  with  the  Volsci." 

2.  A  second  species  of  Inflective  History  is  what  we 
may  call  the  Pragmatical.  "When  we  have  to  deal  with  the 
Past,  and  occupy  ourselves  with  a  remote  world,  a  Present 
rises  into  being  for  the  mind — produced  by  its  own  activity, 
as  the  reward  of  its  labour.  The  occurrences  are,  indeed, 
various ;  but  the  idea  which  pervades  them— their  deeper 
import  and  connection — is  one.  This  takes  the  occurrence 
out  of  the  category  of  the  Past  and  makes  it  virtually  Pre- 
sent. Pragmatical  (didactic)  reflections,  though  in  their 
nature  decidedly  abstract,  are  truly  and  indefeasibly  of  the 
Present,  and  quicken  the  annals  of  the  dead  Past  with  the 
life  of  to-day.  Whether,  indeed,  such  reflections  are  truly 
interesting  and  enlivening,  depends  on  the  writer's  own 
spirit.  Moral  reflections  must  here  be  specially  noticed, — 
the  moral  teaching  expected  from  history  ;  which  latter  has 
not  unfreq  icntly  been  treated  with  a  direct  view  to  the 
former.  It  may  be  allowed  that  examples  of  virtue  elevate 
the  soul,  and  are  applicable  in  the  moral  instruction  oi 
children  for  impressing  excellence  upon  their  minds.  But 
the  destinies  of  peoples  and  states,  their  interests,  relations, 
and  the  complicated  tissue  of  their  affairs,  present  quite 
another  field.  Rulers,  Statesmen,  Nations,  are  wont  to  be 
emphatically  commended  to  the  teaching  which  experience 
offers  in  history.  But  what  experience  and  history  teach 
is  this, — that  peoples  and  governments  never  have  learned 
anything  from  history,  or  acted  on  principles  deduced  from 
it.  Each  period  is  involved  in  SUCQ  peculiar  circumstances, 
exhibits  a  condition  of  things  so  strhtly  idiosyncratic,  that 
its  conduct  must  be  regulated  by  considerations  connected 
with  itself,  and  itself  alone.  Amid  the  pressure  of  great 
events,  a  general  principle  gives  no  help.  It  is  useless  to 
revert  to  similar  circumstances  in  the  Past.  The  pallid 
shades  of  memory  struggle  in  vain  with  the  life  and  freedom 
of  the  Present.  Looked  at  in  this  light,  nothing  can  be 
shallower  than  the  oft-repeated  appeal  to  Greek  and 


CRITICAL    HISTOHT.  7 

examples  during  the  French  Revolution.  Nothing  is  more 
diverse  than  the  genius  of  those  nations  and  that  of  our 
times.  Johannes  v.  Miiller,  in  his  Universal  History  as 
also  in  his  History  of  Switzerland,  had  such  moral  aims  in 
view.  He  designed  to  prepare  a  body  of  political  doctrines 
for  the  instruction  of  princes,  governments  and  peoples  (he 
formed  a  special  collection  of  doctrines  and  reflections, — 
frequently  giving  us  in  his  correspondence  the  exact  number 
f,f  apophthegms  which  he  had  compiled  in  a  week)  ;  but  he 
cannot  reckon  this  part  of  his  labour  as  among  the  best  that 
he  accomplished.  It  is  only  a  thorough,  liberal,  compre- 
hensive view  of  historical  relations  (such  e.  g.  as  we  find  In* 
Montesquieu's  "  Esprit  des  Loix"),  that  can  give  truth  aiid 
interest  to  reflections  of  this  order.  One  Reflective  History 
therefore,  supersedes  another.  The  materials  are  patent  to 
every  writer :  each  is  likely  enough  to  believe  himself  capa- 
ble of  arranging  and  manipulating  them  ;  and  we  may 
expect  that  each  will  insist  upon  his  own  spirit  as  that  of 
the  age  in  question.  Disgusted  by  such  reflective  histories, 
readers  have  often  returned  with  pleasure  to  a  narrative 
adopting  no  particular  point  of  view.  These  certainly  have 
their  value ;  but  for  the  most  part  they  offer  only  material 
for  history.  We  Germans  are  content  with  such.  The 
French,  on  the  other  band,  display  great  genius  in  reani- 
mating bygone  times,  and  in  bringing  the  past  to  bear  upon 
the  present  condition  of  things. 

3.  The  third  form  of  Reflective  History  is  the  Critical. 
This  deserves  mention  as  preeminently  the  mode  of  treating 
history,  now  current  in  Germany.  It  is  not  history  itself 
that  is  here  presented.  We  might  more  properly  designate 
it  as  a  History  of  History  ;  a  criticism  of  historical  narra- 
tives and  an  investigation  of  their  truth  and  credibility. 
Its  peculiarity  in  point  of  fact  and  of  intention,  consists  in 
the  acuteness  with  which  the  writer  extorts  something  from 
the  records  which  was  not  in  the  matters  recorded.  The 
French  have  given  us  much  that  is  profound  and  judicious 
in  this  class  of  composition.  But  they  have  not  endeavoured 
io  pass  a  merely  critical  procedure  for  substantial  history. 
They  have  duly  presented  their  judgments  in  the  form  of 
critical  treatises.  Among  us,  the  ?o-called  "  higher  criti- 
,"  which  reigns  supreme  in  the  domain  of  philology 


INTIM  DCCTIOU. 

has  also  taken  possession  of  our  historical  literature.  Tliia 
"  liigher  criticism  "  has  been  the  pretext  for  introducing  all 
the  anti-historical  monstrosities  that  a  vain  imagination 
could  suggest.  Here  we  have  the  other  method  of  making 
the  past  a  living  reality  ;  putting  subjective  fancies  in  the 
place  of  historical  data  ;  fancies  whose  merit  is  measured  by 
their  boldness,  that  is,  the  scantiness  of  the  particulars  on 
which  they  are  based,  and  the  peremptoriness  with  which 
they  contravene  the  best  established  facts  of  history. 

4.  The  last  species  of  Eeflective  History  announces  its 
fragmentary  character  on  the  very  face  of  it.  It  adopts  an 
abstract  position ;  yet,  since  it  takes  general  points  of  view 
(e.g.  as  the  History  of  Art,  of  Law,  of  Religion),  it  forms  a 
transition  to  the  Philosophical  History  of  the  "World.  In 
our  time  this  form  of  the  history  of  ideas  has  been  more 
developed  and  brought  into  notice.  Such  branches  of  na- 
tional life  stand  in  close  relation  to  the  entire  complex  of  a 
people's  annals ;  and  the  question  of  chief  importance  in 
relation  to  our  subject  is,  whether  the  connection  of  the 
whole  is  exhibited  in  its  truth  and  reality,  or  referred  tc 
merely  external  relations.  In  the  latter  case,  these  im- 
portant phenomena  (Art,  Law,  Religion,  &c.)  appear  aa 
purely  accidental  national  peculiarities.  It  must  be  re- 
marked that,  when  Reflective  History  has  advanced  to  the 
adoption  of  general  points  of  view,  if  the  position  taken  is 
a  true  one,  these  are  found  to  constitute — not  a  merely 
external  thread,  a  superficial  series — but  are  the  inward 
guiding  soul  of  the  occurrences  and  actions  that  occupy  a 
nation's  annala.  For,  like  the  soul-conductor  Mercury,  the 
Idea  is  in  truth,  the  leader  of  peoples  and  of  the  World; 
and  Spirit,  the  rational  and  necessitated  will  of  that  con- 
ductor, is  and  has  been  the  director  of  the  events  of  the 
"World's  History.  To  become  acquainted  with  Spirit  in 
this  its  office  of  guidance,  is  the  object  of  our  present 
undertaking.  This  brings  us  to 

III.  The  third  kind  of  history,— the  Philosophical.  No 
explanation  was  needed  of  the  two  previous  classes ;  their 
nature  was  self-evident.  It  is  otherwise  with  this  last, 
which  certainly  seems  to  require  an  exposition  or  justifica- 
tion. The  most  general  definition  that  can  be  given,  is,  that 
the  Philosophy  of  History  means  nothing  but  the  thoughtful 


PHILOSOPHICAL   HISTOBY.  9 

consiforation  of  it.  Thought  is,  indeed,  essential  to  hu- 
manity. It  is  this  that  distinguishes  us  from  the  brutes. 
In  sensation,  cognition  and  intellection ;  in  our  instincts 
and  volitions,  as  far  as  they  are  truly  human,  Thought  ia 
an  invariable  element.  To  insist  upon  Thought  in  this  con- 
nection with  history,  may  however,  appear  unsatisfactory. 
In  this  science  it  would  seem  as  if  Thought  must  be  subor- 
dinate to  what  is  given,  to  the  realities  of  fact ;  that  this  is 
its  basis  and  guide  :  while  Philosophy  dwells  in  the  region 
of  self-produced  ideas,  without  reference  to  actuality.  Ap- 
proaching history  thus  prepossessed,  Speculation  might  be 
expected  to  treat  it  as  a  mere  passive  material ;  and,  so  far 
from  leaving  it  in  its  native  truth,  to  force  it  into  conformity 
with  a  tyrannous  idea,  and  to  construe  it,  as  the  phrase  is, 
"« priori"  But  as  it  is  the  business  of  history  simply  tc 
adopt  into  its  records  what  is  and  has  been,  actual  occur- 
rences and  transactions ;  and  since  it  remains  true  to  ita 
character  in  proportion  as  it  strictly  adheres  to  its  data,  we 
seem  to  have  in  Philosophy,  a  process  diametrically  opposed 
to  that  of  the  historiographer.  This  contradiction,  and  the 
charge  consequently  brought  against  speculation,  shall  be 
explained  and  confuted.  We  do  not,  however,  propose  to 
correct  the  innumerable  special  misrepresentations,  trite  OP 
novel,  that  are  current  respecting  the  aims,  the  interests, 
and  the  modes  of  treating  history,  and  its  relation  to  Phi- 
losophy. 

The  only  Thought  which  Philosophy  brings  with  it  to  the 
contemplation  of  History,  is  the  simple  conception  of 
Reason ;  that  Reason  is  the  Sovereign  of  the  World  ;  that 
the  history  of  the  world,  therefore,  presents  us  with  a 
rational  process.  This  conviction  and  intuition  is  a  hypo- 
thesis in  the  domain  of  history  as  such.  In  that  of  Phi- 
losophy it  is  no  hypothesis.  It  is  there  proved  by  spe- 
culative cognition,  that  Reason — and  this  term  may  here 
suffice  us,  without  investigating  the  relation  sustained  by  the 
Universe  to  the  Divine  Being, — is  Substance,  as  well  aa 
Infinite  Power ;  its  own  Infinite  Material  underlying 
all  the  natural  and  spiritual  life  which  it  originates,  as 
also  the  Infinite  Iform, — that  which  sets  this  Material  in 
motion.  On  tne  one  hand,  Eeason  is  the  substance  of  the 
Universe  ;  viz.  that  by  which  and  in  which  all  reality  haa  ita 


10  IFTHODT7CTIOF. 

beiiig  and  subsistence.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  Infinite 
Energy  of  the  Universe ;  since  Eeason  is  not  so  powerless 
as  to  be  incapable  of  nroducing  anything  but  a  mere  ideal, 
a  mere  intention— having  its  place  outside  reality,  nobody 
knows  where;  something  separate  and  abstract,  in  the  heads 
of  certain  human  beings.  It  is  the  infinite  complex  of 
things,  their  entire  Essence  and  Truth.  It  is  its  own  ma- 
terial which  it  commits  to  its  own  Active  Energy  to  work 
up  ;  not  needing,  as  finite  action  does,  the  conditions  of  an 
external  material  of  given  means  from  which  it  may  obtain 
its  support,  and  the  objects  of  its  activity.  It  supplies  its 
own  nourishment,  and  is  the  object  of  its  own  operations. 
While  it  is  exclusively  its  own  basis  of  existence,  and  abso- 
lute final  aim,  it  is  also  the  energizing  power  realizing  this 
aim  ;  developing  it  not  only  in  the  phenomena  of  the 
Natural,  but  also  of  the  Spiritual  Universe — the  History  of 
the  World.  That  this  "  Idea"  or  "  Eeason  "  is  the  True, 
the  Eternal,  the  absolutely  powerful  essence  ;  that  it  reveals 
itself  in  the  World,  and  that  in  that  World  nothing  else  is 
revealed  but  this  and  its  honour  and  glory — is  the  thesis 
which,  as  we  have  said,  has  been  proved  in  Philosophy,  and 
is  here  regarded  as  demonstrated. 

In  those  of  my  hearers  who  are  not  acquainted  with 
Philosophy,  I  may  fairly  presume,  at  least,  the  existence 
of  a  belief  in  Eeason,  a  desire,  a  thirst  for  acquaint- 
ance with  it,  in  entering  upon  this  course  of  Lectures. 
It  is,  in  fact,  the  wish  for  rational  insight,  not  the  ambi- 
tion to  amass  a  mere  heap  of  acquirements,  that  should  be 
presupposed  in  every  case  as  possessing  the  mind  of  the 
learner  in  the  study  of  science.  If  the  clear  idea  of  Reason 
is  not  already  developed  in  our  minds,  in  beginning  the 
study  of  Universal  History,  we  should  at  least  have  the 
firm,  unconquerable  faith  that  Eeason  does  exist  there  ;  and 
that  the  World  of  intelligence  and  conscious  volition  is 
not  abandoned  to  chance,  but  must  shew  itself  in  the  light 
of  the  self-cognizant  Idea.  Yet  I  am  not  obliged  to  make 
any  such  preliminary  demand  upon  your  faith.  What  I 
have  said  thus  provisionally,  and  what  I  shall  have  further 
to  say,  is,  even  in  reference  to  our  branch  of  science,  not  to 
be  regarded  as  hypothetical,  but  as  a  summary  view  of  the 
whole  f  the  result  of  the  investigation  we  are  about  to  pui- 


BESUJ.T    05   HISTOET.  11 

sue  ;  a  result  which  happens  to  be  known  to  me,  because  I 
Lave  traversed  the  entire  field.  It  is  only  an  inference  from 
the  history  of  the  World,  that  its  development  has  been  a 
rational  process ;  that  the  history  in  question  has  consti- 
tuted the  rational  necessary  course  of  the  World-Spirit — 
that  Spirit  whose  nature  is  always  one  and  the  same,  but 
which  unfolds  this  its  one  nature  in  the  phenomena  of  the 
World's  existence.  This  must,  as  before  stated,  present 
itself  as  the  ultimate  result  of  History.  But  we  have  to 
take  the  latter  as  it  is.  We  must  proceed  historically — 
empirically.  Among  other  precautions  we  must  take  care 
not  to  be  misled  by  professed  historians  who  (especially 
among  the  Germans,  and  enjoying  a  considerable  authority), 
are  chargeable  with  the  very  procedure  of  which  they  accuse 
the  Philosopher — introducing  d  priori  inventions  of  their 
own  into  the  records  of  the  Past.  It  is,  for  example,  a  widely 
current  fiction,  that  there  was  an  original  primaeval  people, 
taught  immediately  by  God,  endowed  with  perfect  insight 
and  wisdom,  possessing  a  thorough  knowledge  of  all  natural 
laws  and  spiritual  truth;  that  there  have  been  such  or  such 
sacerdotal  peoples  ;  or,  to  mention  a  more  specific  averment, 
that  there  was  a  Roman  Epos,  from  which  the  Roman  his- 
torians derived  the  early  annals  of  their  city,  &c.  Authori- 
ties of  this  kind  we  leave  to  those  talented  historians  by 
profession,  among  whom  (in  Germany  at  least)  their  use  is 
not  uncommon. — We  might  then  announce  it  as  the  first 
condition  to  be  observed,  that  we  should  faithfully  adopt  all 
that  is  historical.  But  in  such  general  expressions  them- 
selves, as  "faithfully"  and  "adopt,"  lies  the  ambiguity. 
Even  the  ordinary,  the  "impartial"  historiographer,  who 
believes  and  professes  that  he  maintains  a  simply  receptive 
attitude;  surrendering  himself  only  to  the  data  supplied 
him — is  by  no  means  passive  as  regards  the  exercise  of  his 
thinking  powers.  He  brings  his  categories  with  him,  and 
sees  the  phenomena  presented  to  his  mental  vision,  exclu- 
sively through  these  media.  And,  especially  in  all  that' 
pretends  to  the  name  of  science,  it  is  indispensable  that 
Reason  should  not  sleep — that  reflection  should  be  in  full 
play.  To  him  who  looks  upon  the  world  rationally,  the 
world  in  its  turn,  presents  a  rational  aspect.  The  relatioa 
is  mutual.  But  the  various  exercises  of  reflection —the  dit- 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

ferent  points  of  view — the  modes  of  deciding  the  simple 
question  of  the  relative  importance  of  events  (the  first 
category  that  occupies  the  attention  of  the  historian),  do 
not  belong  to  this  place. 

I  will  only  mention  two  phases  and  points  of  view  that 
concern  the  generally  diffused  conviction  that  Eeason  has 
ruled,  and  is  still  ruling  in  the  world,  and  consequently  in 
the  world's  history ;  because  they  give  us,  at  the  same  time, 
an  opportunity  for  more  closely  investigating  the  question 
that  presents  the  greatest  difficulty,  and  for  indicating  a 
branch  of  the  subject,  which  will  have  to  be  enlarged  on  in 
tlie  sequel. 

I. — One  of  these  points  is,  that  passage  in  history,  which  in- 
forms us  that  the  Greek  Anaxagoras  was  the  first  to  enunciate 
the  doctrine  that  vovg,  Understanding  generally,  or  Eeason, 
governs  the  world.  It  is  not  intelligence  as  self-conscious 
"Reason, — not  a  Spirit  as  such  that  is  meant ;  and  we  must 
clearly  distinguish  these  from  each  other.  The  movement  of 
the  solar  system  takes  place  according  to  unchangeable  laws. 
These  laws  are  Eeason,  implicit  in  the  phenomena  in  question. 
But  neither  the  sun  nor  the  planets,  which  revolve  around  it 
according  to  these  laws,  can  be  said  to  have  any  conscious- 
ness of  them. 

A  thought  of  this  kind, — that  Nature  is  an  embodiment 
of  Eeason  ;  that  it  is  unchangeably  subordinate  to  universal 
laws,  appears  nowise  striking  or  strange  to  us.  "We  are 
accustomed  to  such  conceptions,  and  find  nothing  extraor- 
dinary in  them.  And  I  have  mentioned  this  extraordinary 
occurrence,  partly  to  shew  how  history  teaches,  that  ideas  of 
this  kind,  which  may  seem  trivial  to  us,  have  not  always  been 
in  the  world ;  that  on  the  contrary,  such  a  thought  makes 
an  epoch  in  the  annals  of  human  intelligence.  Aristotle 
says  of  Anaxagoras,  as  the  originator  of  the  thought  in  ques- 
tion, that  he  appeared  as  a  sober  man  among  the  drunken. 
Socrates  adopted  the  doctrine  from  Anaxagoras,  and  it  forth- 
with became  the  ruling  idea  in  Philosophy, — except  in  the 
school  of  Epicurus,  who  ascribed  all  events  to  chance.  "  I 
was  delighted  with  the  sentiment," — Plato  makes  Socrates 
say, — "  and  hoped  I  had  found  a  teacher  who  would  shew  me 
Nature  in  harmony  with  Eeason,  who  would  demonstrate  in 
each  particular  phenomenon  its  specific  aim,  and  in  the  whole, 


PROVTDEKCE.  13 

the  grand  object  of  the  Universe.  I  would  not  have  3ur- 
rendered  this  hope  for  a  great  deal.  But  how  very  much 
was  I  disappointed,  when,  having  zealously  applied  myself  to 
the  writings  of  Anaxagoras,  I  found  that  he  adduces  only 
external  causes,  such  as  Atmosphere,  Ether,  Water,  and  the 
like."  It  is  evident  that  the  defect  which  Socrates  complains 
of  respecting  Anaxagoras's  doctrine,  does  not  concern  the 
principle  itself,  but  the  shortcoming  of  the  propounder  in 
applying  it  to  Nature  in  the  concrete.  Nature  is  not  deduced 
from  that  principle :  the  latter  remains  in  fact  a  mere  ab- 
straction, inasmuch  as  the  former  is  not  comprehended  and 
exhibited  as  a  development  of  it, — an  organisation  produced 
by  and  from  Eeason.  I  wish,  at  the  very  outset,  to  call  your 
attention  to  the  important  difference  between  a  conception, 
a  principle,  a  truth  limited  to  an  abstract  form  and  its  de- 
terminate application,  and  concrete  development.  This  dis- 
tinction affects  the  whole  fabric  of  philosophy  ;  and  among 
other  bearings  of  it  there  is  one  to  which  we  shall  have 
to  revert  at  the  close  of  our  view  of  Universal  History, 
in  investigating  the  aspect  of  political  affairs  in  the  most 
recent  period. 

We  have  next  to  notice  the  rise  of  this  idea — that  Reason 
directs  the  World— in  connection  with  a  further  application 
of  it,  well  known  to  us, — in  the  form,  viz.  of  the  religious 
truth,  that  the  world  is  not  abandoned  to  chance  and  ex- 
ternal contingent  causes,  but  that  a  Providence  controls  it. 
I  stated  above,  that  I  would  not  make  a  demand  on  your 
faith,  in  regard  to  the  principle  announced.  Yet  I  might 
appeal  to  your  belief  in  it,  in  this  religions  aspect,  if,  as  a 
general  rule,  the  nature  of  philosophical  science  allowed  it  to 
attach  authority  to  presuppositions.  To  put  it  in  another 
shape, — this  appeal  is  forbidden,  because  the  science  of  which 
we  have  to  treat,  proposes  itself  to  furnish  the  proof  (not 
indeed  of  the  abstract  Truth  of  the  doctrine,  but)  of  its 
correctness  as  compared  with  facts.  The  truth,  then,  that 
a  Providence  (that  of  Q-od)  presides  over  the  events  of  the 
World  —consorts  with  the  proposition  in  question  ;  for 
Divine  Providence  is  Wisdom,  endowed  with  an  infinite 
Power,  which  realises  its  aim,  viz.  the  absolute  rational 
design  of  the  World.  Eeason  is  Thought  conditioning  itself 
with  perfect  freedom.  But  a  difference — rather  a  contra- 


14  INTBODUCTIO1T. 

diction — will  manifest  itself,  between  this  belief  and  our 
principle,  just  as  was  the  case  in  reference  to  the  demand 
made  by  Socrates  in  the  case  of  Anaxagoras's  dictum.  For 
that  belief  is  similarly  indefinite  ;  it  is  what  is  called  a  belief 
in  a  general  Providence,  and  is  not  followed  out  into  definite 
application,  or  displayed  in  its  bearing  on  the  grand  total 
— the  entire  course  of  human  history.  But  to  explain 
History  is  to  depict  the  passions  of  mankind,  the  genius,  the 
active  powers,  that  play  their  part  on  the  great  stage  ;  and 
the  providentially  determined  process  which  these  exhibit, 
constitutes  what  is  generally  called  the  "  plan  "  of  Provi- 
dence. Yet  it  is  this  very  plan  which  is  supposed  to  be 
concealed  from  our  view :  which  it  is  deemed  presumption, 
even  to  wish  to  recognise.  The  ignorance  of  Anaxagoras,  as 
to  how  intelligence  reveals  itself  in  actual  existence,  was 
ingenuous.  Neither  in  his  consciousness,  nor  in  that  of 
Greece  at  large,  had  that  thought  been  farther  expanded. 
He  had  not  attained  the  power  to  apply  his  general  principle 
to  the  concrete,  so  as  to  deduce  the  latter  from  the  former. 
It  was  Socrates  who  took  the  first  step  in  comprehending  the 
union  of  the  Concrete  with  the  Universal.  Auaxagoras,  then, 
did  iiot  take  up  a  hostile  position  towards  such  an  application. 
The  common  belief  in  Providence  does ;  at  least  it  opposes 
the  use  of  the  principle  on  the  large  scale,  and  denies  the 
possibility  of  discerning  the  plan  of  Providence.  In  isolated 
cases  this  plan  is  supposed  to  be  manifest.  Pious  persons 
are  encouraged  to  recognise  in  particular  circumstances, 
something  more  than  mere  chance ;  to  acknowledge  the 
guidiug  hand  of  God  ;  e.g.  when  help  has  unexpectedly  come 
to  an  individual  in  great  perplexity  and  need.  But  these 
instances  of  providential  design  are  of  a  limited  kind,  and 
concern  the  accomplishment  of  nothing  more  than  the  desires 
of  the  individual  in  question.  But  in  the  history  of  the 
World,  the  Individuals  we  have  to  do  with  are  Peoples  ; 
Totalities  that  are  States.  We  cannot,  therefore,  be  satisfied 
with  what  we  may  call  this  ''peddling  "  view  of  Providence, 
to  which  the  belief  alluded  to  limits  itself.  Equally  unsatis- 
factory is  the  merely  abstract,  undefined  belief  in  a  Provi- 
dence, when  that  belief  is  not  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
details  of  the  process  which  it  conducts.  On  the  contrary 
our  earnest  endeavour  must  be  directed  to  the  recognition 


KNOWLEDGE    OF    GOD.  15 

of  the  ways  of  Providence,  the  means  it  uses,  and  the  historical 
phenomena  in  which  it  manifests  itself ;  and  we  must  shew 
their  connection  with  the  general  principle  above  mentioned. 
But  in  noticing  the  recognition  of  the  plan  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence generally,  I  have  implicitly  touched  upon  a  prominent 
question  of  the  day  ;  viz.  that  of  the  possibility  of  knowing 
God  :  or  rather — since  public  opinion  has  ceased  to  allow  it 
to  be  a  matter  of  question — the  doctrine  that  it  is  impossible 
to  know  God.  In  direct  contravention  of  what  is  commanded 
in  holy  Scripture  as  the  highest  duty, — that  we  should  not 
merely  love,  but  know  God, — the  prevalent  dogma  involves 
the  denial  of  what  is  there  said ;  viz.  that  it  is  the  Spirit  (der 
Geist)  that  leads  into  Truth,  knows  all  things,  penetrates 
even  into  the  deep  things  of  the  Q-odhead.  While  the 
Divine  Being  is  thus  placed  beyond  our  knowledge,  and 
outside  the  limit  of  all  human  things,  we  have  the  convenient 
licence  of  wandering  as  far  as  we  list,  in  the  direction  of  our 
own  fancies.  We  are  freed  from  the  obligation  to  refer  our 
knowledge  to  the  Divine  and  True.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
vanity  and  egotism  which  characterise  it,  find,  in  this  false 
position,  ample  justification ;  and  the  pious  modesty  which 
puts  far  from  it  the  knowledge  of  Q-od,  can  well  estimate  how 
much  furtherance  thereby  accrues  to  its  own  wayward  and 
vain  strivings.  I  have  been  unwilling  to  leave  out  of  sight 
the  connection  between  our  thesis — that  Eeason  governs  and 
has  governed  the  World — and  the  question  of  the  possibility  of 
a  knowledge  of  God,  chiefly  that  I  might  not  lose  the  opportu- 
nity of  mentioning  the  imputation  against  Philosophy  of  being 
shy  of  noticing  religious  truths,  or  of  having  occasion  to  be  so ; 
in  which  is  insinuated  the  suspicion  that  it  has  anything  but  a 
clear  conscience  in  the  presence  of  these  truths.  So  far  from 
this  being  the  case,  the  fact  is,  that  in  recent  times  Philosophy 
has  been  obliged  to  defend  the  domain  of  religion  against 
the  attacks  of  several  theological  systems.  In  the  Christian 
religion  God  has  revealed  Himself,— that  is,  he  has  given  ua 
to  understand  what  He  is ;  so  that  He  is  no  longer  a  con- 
cealed or  secret  existence.  And  this  possibility  of  knowing 
Him,  thus  afforded  us,  renders  such  knowledge  a  duty.  God 
wishesnonarrow-hearted  souls  or  empty  heads  for  his  children; 
but  those  whose  spirit  is  of  itself  indeed,  poor,  but  rich  in 
the  knowledge  of  Him  ;  and  who  regard  this  knowledge  of 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

God  as  the  only  valuable  possession.  That  development  of 
the  thinking  spirit,  which  has  resulted  from  the  revelation 
of  the  Divine  Being  as  its  original  basis,  must  ultimately 
advance  to  the  intellectual  comprehension  of  what  was  pre- 
sented in  the  first  instance,  to  feeling  and  imagination.  The 
time  must  eventually  come  for  understanding  that  rich 
product  of  active  Reason,  which  the  History  of  the  World 
offers  to  us.  It  was  for  a  while  the  feshion  to  profess  ad- 
miration for  the  wisdom  of  God,  as  displayed  in  animals, 
plants,  and  isolated  occurrences.  But,  if  it  be  allowed  that 
Providence  manifests  itself  in  such  objects  and  forms  of 
existence,  why  not  also  in  Universal  History.  This  is  deemed 
too  great  a  matter  to  be  thus  regarded.  But  Divine  Wisdom, 
».  e.  Reason,  is  one  and  the  same  in  the  great  as  in  the 
little ;  and  we  must  not  imagine  God  to  be  too  weak  to 
exercise  his  wisdom  on  the  grand  scale.  Our  intellectual 
striving  aims  at  realizing  the  conviction  that  what  was 
intended  by  eternal  wisdom,  is  actually  accomplished  in  the 
domain  of  existent,  active  Spirit,  as  well  as  in  that  of  mere 
Nature.  Our  mode  of  treating  the  subject  is,  in  this  aspect, 
a  Theodicaea, — a  justification  of  the  ways  of  God, — which 
Leibnitz  attempted  metaphysically,  in  his  method,  i.  e.  in 
indefinite  abstract  categories, — so  that  the  ill  that  is  found 
in  the  World  may  be  comprehended,  and  the  thinking  Spirit 
reconciled  with  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  evil.  Indeed, 
nowhere  is  such  a  harmonising  view  more  pressiugly  de- 
manded than  in  Universal  History  ;  and  it  can  be  attained 
only  by  recognising  the  positive  existence,  in  which  that 
negative  element  is  a  subordinate,  and  vanquished  nullity. 
On  the  one  hand,  the  ultimate  design  of  the  World  must  be 
perceived  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  fact  that  this  design 
has  been  actually  realized  in  it,  and  that  evil  has  not  been 
able  permanently  to  assert  a  competing  position.  But  this 
conviction  involves  much  more  than  the  mere  belief  in  a 
superintending  i/ouc,  or  in  "  Providence."  "  Reason,"  whose 
sovereignty  over  the  World  has  been  maintained,  is  as  in- 
definite a  term  as  "  Providence,"  supposing  the  term  to  be 
used  by  those  who  are  unable  to  characterize  it  distinctly, 
— to  shew  wherein  it  consists,  so  as  to  enahTe  us  to  decide 
whether  a  thing  is  rational  or  irrational.  An  adequate  defi- 
nition of  Reason  is  the  first  desideratum  ;  and  whatever 


ULTIMATE    DESTGW   O*    THE   WOELD.  17 

boast  may  be  made  of  strict  adherence  to  it  in  explaining 
phenomena, — without  such  a  definition  we  get  no  farther 
than  mere  words.  With  these  observations  we  may  proceed 
to  the  second  point  of  view  that  has  to  be  considered  in  this 
Introduction. 

II.  The  enquiry  into  the  essential  destiny  of  Reason — 
as  far  as  it  is  considered  in  reference  to  the  World — is  iden- 
tical with  the  question,  what  is  the  ultimate  design  of  the 
World?  And  the  expression  implies  that  that  design  is 
destined  to  be  realised!  Two  points  of  consideration  suggest 
themselves:  first,  the  import  of  this  design — its  abstract 
definition  ;  and  secondly,  its  realization. 

It  must  be  observed  at  the  outset,  that  the  phenomenon 
we  investigate  —Universal  History — belongs  to  the  realm  of 
Spirit.  The  term  "  World"  includes  both  physical  and  psy- 
chical Nature.  Physical  Nature  also  plays  its  part  in  the 
World's  History,  and  attention  will  have  to  be  paid  to  the 
fundamental  natural  relations  thus  involved.  But  Spirit, 
and  the  course  of  its  development,  is  our  substantial  object. 
Our  task  does  not  require  us  to  contemplate  Nature  as  a 
Rational  System  in  itself — though  in  its  own  proper  domain 
it  proves  itself  such — but  simply  in  its  relation  to  Spirit.  On 
the  stage  on  which  we  are  observing  it, — Universal  History 
— Spirit  displays  itself  in  its  most  concrete  reality.  Not- 
withstanding this  (or  rather  for  the  very  purpose  of  com- 
prehending the  general  principles  which  this,  its  form  of 
concrete  reality,  embodies)  we  must  premise  some  abstract 
characteristics  of  the  nature  of  Spirit.  Such  an  explanation, 
however,  cannot  be  given  here  under  any  other  form  than 
that  of  bare  assertion.  The  present  is  not  the  occasion  for 
unfolding  the  idea  of  Spirit  speculatively ;  for  whatever  has  a 
place  in  an  Introduction,  must,  as  already  observed,  be  taken 
as  simply  historical ;  something  assumed  as  having  been 
explained  and  proved  elsewhere;  or  whose  demonstration 
awaits  the  sequel  of  the  Science  of  History  itself. 
We  have  therefore  to  mention  here : 

(1.)  The  abstract   characteristics  of  the  nature  of 
Spirit. 

(2.)  What  means  Spirit  uses  in  order  to  realize  its  Idea. 

(3.)  Lastly,  we   must  consider  the  shape  which  the 
perfect  embodiment  of  Spirit  assumes — the  Stata, 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

(1.)  The  nature  of  Spirit  may  be  understood  by  a  glance 
at  its  direct  opposite — Matter.  As  the  essence  of  Matter 
is  Gravity,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  we  may  affirm  that  the 
substance,  the  essence  of  Spirit  is  Freedom.  All  will  readily 
assent  to  the  doctrine  that  Spirit,  among  other  properties, 
is  also  endowed  with  Freedom ;  but  philosophy  teaches  that 
all  the  qualities  of  Spirit  exist  only  through  Freedom  ;  that 
all  are  but  means  for  attaining  Freedom  ;  that  all  seek 
and  produce  this  and  this  alone.  It  is  a  result  of  spe- 
culative Philosophy,  that  Freedom  is  the  sole  truth  of 
Spirit.  Matter  possesses  gravity  in  virtue  of  its  tendency 
towards  a  central  point.  It  is  essentially  composite  ;  con- 
sisting of  parts  that  exclude  each  other.  It  seeks  its  Unity ; 
and  therefore  exhibits  itself  as  self- destructive,  as  verging 
towards  its  opposite  [an  indivisible  point].  If  it  could  attain 
this,  it  would  be  Matter  no  longer,  it  would  have  perished. 
It  strives  after  the  realization  of  its  Idea  ;  for  in  Unity  it 
exists  ideally.  Spirit,  on  the  contrary,  may  be  defined  as 
that  which  has  its  centre  in  itself.  It  has  not  a  unity  out- 
side itself,  but  has  already  found  it ;  it  exists  in  and  with 
itself.  Matter  has  its  essence  out  of  itself;  Spirit  is  self- 
contained  existence  (Bei-sich-selbst-seyn).  Now  this  is 
Freedom,  exactly.  For  if  I  am  dependent,  my  being  is  re- 
ferred to  something  else  which  I  am  not ;  I  cannot  exist  in- 
dependently of  something  external.  I  am  free,  on  the 
contrary,  when  my  existence  depends  upon  myself.  This 
self-contained  existence  of  Spirit  is  none  other  than  self- 
consciousness — consciousness  of  one's  own  being.  Two 
things  must  be  distinguished  in  consciousness  ;  first,  the 
fact  that  I  know ;  secondly,  what  I  know.  In  self  con- 
sciousness these  are  merged  in  one  ;  for  Spirit  knows  itself. 
It  involves  an  appreciation  of  its  own  nature,  as  also  an 
energy  enabling  it  to  realise  itself ;  to  make  itself  actually  that 
which  it  is  potentially.  According  to  this  abstract  definition 
it  may  be  said  of  Universal  History,  that  it  is  the  exhibition 
of  Spirit  in  the  process  of  working  out  the  knowledge  of 
that  which  it  is  potentially.  And  as  the  germ  bears  in 
itself  the  whole  nature  of  the  tree,  and  the  taste  and  form  of 
its  fruits,  so  do  the  first  traces  of  Spirit  virtually  contain  the 
whole  of  that  History.  The  Orientals  have  not  attained  the 
knowledge  that  Spirit — Man  as  such— is  free  ;  and  because 


ESSENTIALS    OF   FREEDOM  19 

they  do  not  know  this,  they  are  not  free.  They  only  know 
that  one  is  free.  But  on  this  very  account,  the  freedom  of 
that  one  is  only  caprice  ;  ferocity — brutal  recklessness  of  pas- 
sion, or  a  mildness  and  tameness  of  the  desires,  which  is  itself 
only  an  accident  of  Nature— mere  caprice  like  the  former. 
— That  one  is  therefore  only  a  Despot ;  not  a  free  man.  The 
consciousness  of  Freedom  first  arose  among  the  Greeks,  and 
therefore  they  were  free  ;  but  they,  and  the  Romans  likewise, 
knew  only  that  some  are  free, — not  man  as  such.  Even 
Plato  and  Aristotle  did  not  know  this.  The  Greeks,  there- 
fore, had  slaves  ;  and  their  whole  life  and. the  maintenance  of 
their  splendid  liberty,  was  implicated  with  the  institution 
of  slavery :  a  fact  moreover,  which  made  that  liberty  on  the 
one  hand  only  an  accidental,  transient  and  limited  growth  ; 
on  the  other  hand,  constituted  it  a  rigorous  thraldom  of  our 
common  nature — of  the  Human.  The  German  nations, 
under  the  influence  of  Christianity,  were  the  first  to  attain 
the  consciousness,  that  man,  as  man,  is  free  :  that  it  is  the 
freedom  of  Spirit  which  constitutes  its  essence.  This  con- 
sciousness arose  first  in  religion,  the  inmost  region  of  Spirit; 
but  to  introduce  the  principle  into  the  various  relations  ot 
the  actual  world,  involves  a  more  extensive  problem  than  its 
simple  implantation  ;  a  problem  whose  solution  and  appli- 
cation require  a  severe  and  lengthened  process  of  culture. 
In  proof  of  this,  we  may  note  that  slavery  did  not  cease 
immediately  on  the  reception  of  Christianity.  Still  less  did 
liberty  predominate  in  States ;  or  Governments  and  Consti- 
tutions adopt  a  rational  organization,  or  recognise  freedom 
as  their  basis.  That  application  of  the  principle  to  political 
relations ;  the  thorough  moulding  and  interpenetration  of 
the  constitution  of  society  by  it,  is  a  process  identical  with 
history  itself.  I  have  already  directed  attention  to  the  dis- 
tinction here  involved,  between  a  principle  as  such,  and  its 
application ;  i.  e.  its  introduction  and  carrying  out  in  the 
actual  phenomena  of  Spirit  and  Life.  This  is  a  point  of 
fundamental  importance  in  our  science,  and  one  which  must 
be  constantly  respected  as  essential.  And  in  the  same  way 
as  this  distinction  has  attracted  attention  in  view  of  the 
Christian  principle  of  self-consciousness — Freedom  ;  it  also 
shews  itself  as  an  essential  one,  in  view  of  the  principle  of 
Freedom  generally.  The  History  of  the  world  is  none  other 


20  INTEODTJCTIOK. 

than  the  progress  of  the  consciousness  of  Freedom  ;  a  pro- 
gress whose  development  according  to  the  necessity  of  its 
nature,  it  is  our  business  to  investigate. 

The  general  statement  given  above,  of  the  various  grades 
in  the  consciousness  of  Freedom— and  which  we  applied  in 
the  first  instance  to  the  fact  that  the  Eastern  nations  knew 
only  that  one  is  free  ;  the  Greek  and  Roman  world  only  that 
some  are  free ;  whilst  we  know  that  all  men  absolutely  (man 
as  man)  are  free, — supplies  us  with  the  natural  division  of 
Universal  History,  and  suggests  the  mode  of  its  discussion. 
This  is  remarked,  however,  only  incidentally  and  anticipa- 
tively  ;  some  other  ideas  must  be  first  explained. 

The  destiny  of  the  spiritual  World,  and, — since  this  is  the 
substantial  World,  while  the  physical  remains  subordinate  to 
it,  or,  in  the  language  of  speculation,  has  no  truth  as  against 
the  spiritual, — the  final  cause  of  the  World  at  large,  we  allege 
to  be  the  consciousness  of  its  own  freedom  on  the  part  of  Spirit, 
and  ipso  facto,  the  reality  of  that  freedom.  But  that  this 
term  "  Freedom,"  without  further  qualification,  is  an  inde- 
finite, and  incalculable  ambiguous  term  ;  and  that  while  that 
which  it  represents  is  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  attainment,  it  is 
liable  to  an  infinity  of  misunderstandings,  confusions  and 
errors,  and  to  become  the  occasion  for  all  imaginable  excesses, 
— has  never  been  more  clearly  known  and  felt  than  in  modern 
times.  Yet,  for  the  present,  we  must  content  ourselves  with 
the  term  itself  without  farther  definition.  Attention  was 
also  directed  to  the  importance  of  the  infinite  difference 
between  a  principle  in  the  abstract,  and  its  realization  in  the 
concrete.  In  the  process  before  us,  the  essential  nature  of 
freedom, — which  involves  in  it  absolute  necessity,  —is  to  be 
meplayed  as  coming  to  a  consciousness  of  itself  (for  it  is  in 
ils  very  nature,  self-consciousness)  and  thereby  realizing  its 
^tistence.  Itself  is  its  own  object  of  attainment,  and  the  sole 
aim  of  Spirit.  This  result  it  is,  at  which  the  process  of  the 
"World's  History  has  been  continually  aiming ;  and  to  which 
the  sacrifices  that  have  ever  and  anon  been  laid  on  the  vast 
altar  of  the  earth,  through  the  long  lapse  of  ages,  have  been 
offered.  This  is  the  only  aim  that  sees  itself  realized  and 
fulfilled  ;  the  only  pole  of  repose  amid  the  ceaseless  change 
of  events  and  conditions,  and  the  sole  efficient  principle  that 
pervades  them.  This  final  aim  is  God's  purpose  with  the 


REALIZATION    OF   THE   "  IDEA."  21 

world ;  but  God  is  the  absolutely  perfect  Being,  and  can, 
therefore,  will  nothing  other  than  himself— his  own  Will. 
The  Nature  of  His  Will — that  is,  His  Nature  itself — is  what 
we  here  call  the  Idea  of  Freedom  ;  translating  the  language 
of  Eeligion  into  that  of  Thought.  The  question,  then,  which 
we  may  next  put,  is :  What  means  does  this  principle  of 
Freedom  use  for  its  realization  ?  This  is  the  second  point 
we  have  to  consider. 

.(2.)  The  question  of  the  means  by  which  Freedom  deve- 
lops itself  to  a  World,  conducts  us  to  the  phenomenon  of 
History  itself.  Although  Freedom  is,  primarily,  an  unde- 
veloped idea,  the  means  it  uses  are  external  and  phenomenal ; 
presenting  themselves  in  History  to  our  sensuous  vision. 
The  first  glance  at  History  convinces  us  that  the  actions  of 
men  proceed  from  their  needs,  their  passions,  their  charac- 
ters and  talents ;  and  impresses  us  with  the  belief  that  such 
needs,  passions  and  interests  are  the  sole  springs  of  action  — 
the  efficient  agents  in  this  scene  of  activity.  Among  these  may, 
perhaps,  be  found  aims  of  a  liberal  or  universal  kind — bene- 
volence it  may  be,  or  noble  patriotism  ;  but  such  virtues  and 
general  views  are  but  insignificant  as  compared  with  the 
World  and  its  doings.  We  may  perhaps  see  the  Ideal  of 
Reason  actualized  in  those  who  adopt  such  aims,  and  within 
the  sphere  of  their  influence ;  but  they  bear  only  a  trifling 
proportion  to  the  mass  of  the  human  race  ;  and  the  extent  of 
that  influence  is  limited  accordingly.  Passions,  private  aims, 
and  the  satisfaction  of  selfish  desires,  are  on  the  other  hand, 
most  effective  springs  of  action.  Their  power  lies  in  the 
fact  that  they  respect  none  of  the  limitations  which  justice 
and  morality  would  impose  on  them  ;  and  that  these  natural 
impulses  have  a  more  direct  influence  over  man  than  the 
artificial  and  tedious  discipline  that  tends  to  order  and  self- 
restraint,  law  and  morality.  When  we  look  at  this  display 
of  passions,  and  the  consequences  of  their  violence  ;  the 
Unreason  which  is  associated  not  only  with  them,  but  even 
(rather  we  might  say  especially)  with  good  designs  and 
righteous  aims  ;  when  we  see  the  evil,  the  vice,  the  ruin  that 
has  befallen  the  most  flourishing  kingdoms  which  the  mind 
of  man  ever  created  ;  we  can  scarce  avoid  being  filled  with  sor- 
row at  this  universal  taint  of  corruption  :  and,  since  this  decay 
is  not  the  work  of  mere  Nature,  but  of  the  Human  Will — a 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

moral  embitternient — a  revolt  of  the  Good  Spirit  (if  it  hflv0 
a  place  within  us)  may  well  be  the  result  of  our  reflections. 
Without  rhetorical  exaggeration,  a  simply  truthful  combina- 
tion of  the  miseries  that  have  overwhelmed  the  noblest  of 
nations  and  polities,  and  the  finest  exemplars  of  private  vir- 
tue,— forms  a  picture  of  most  fearful  aspect,  and  excites  emo- 
tions of  the  profoundest  and  most  hopeless  sadness,  counter- 
balanced by  no  consolatory  result.  We  endure  in  beholding 
it  a  mental  torture,  allowing  no  defence  or  escape  but  the 
consideration  that  what  has  happened  could  not  be  other- 
wise ;  that  it  is  a  fatality  which  no  intervention  could  alter. 
And  at  last  we  draw  back  from  the  intolerable  disgust  with 
which  these  sorrowful  reflections  threaten  us,  into  the  more 
agreeable  environment  of  our  individual  life— the  Present 
formed  by  our  private  aims  and  interests.  In  short  we  re* 
treat  into  the  selfishness  that  stands  on  the  quiet  shore,  and 
thence  enjoys  in  safety  the  distant  spectacle  of  "  wrecks 
confusedly  hurled."  But  even  regarding  History  as  the 
slaughter-bench  at  which  the  happiness  of  peoples,  the  wis- 
dom of  States,  and  the  virtue  of  individuals  have  been  vic- 
timised— the  question  involuntarily  arises — to  what  principle, 
to  what  final  aim  these. enormous  sacrifices  have  been  offered. 
From  this  point  the  investigation  usually  proceeds  to  that 
which  we  have  made  the  general  commencement  of  our  en- 
quiry. Starting  from  this  we  pointed  out  those  pheno- 
mena which  made  up  a  picture  so  suggestive  of  gloomy 
emotions  and  thoughtful  reflections — as  the  very  field  which 
we,  for  our  part,  regard  as  exhibiting  only  the  means  for 
realizing  what  we  assert  to  be  the  essential  destiny  -  the  ab- 
solute aim,  or — which  comes  to  the  same  thing — the  true 
result  of  the  World's  History.  We  have  all  along  purposely 
eschewed  "  moral  reflections"  as  a  method  of  rising  from  the 
scene  of  historical  specialities  to  the  general  principles  which 
they  embody.  Besides,  it  is  noc  the  interest  of  such  senti- 
mentalities, really  to  rise  above  those  depressing  emotions  ; 
and  to  solve  the  enigmas  of  Providence  which  the  consider- 
ations that  occasioned  them,  present.  It  is  essential  to  their 
character  to  find  a  gloomy  satisfaction  in  the  empty  and 
fruitless  sublimities  of  that  negative  result.  We  return  then 
fco  the  point  of  view  which  we  have  adopted  ;  observing  that 
the  successive  steps  (Moinente)  of  the  analysis  to  which  it 


SPHINOS   OF  HUMAN    A.CTTOK.  23 

will  lead  us,  will  also  evolve  the  conditions  requisite  for  an- 
swering the  enquiries  suggested  by  the  panorama  of  sin  and 
suffering  that  history  unfolds. 

The  first  remark  we  have  to  make,  and  which — though 
already  presented  more  than  once — cannot  be  too  often  re- 
peated when  the  occasion  seems  to  call  for  it, — is  that  what 
we  call  principle,  aim,  destiny,  or  the  nature  and  idea  of 
Spirit,  is  something  merely  general  and  abstract.  Principle — 
Plan  of  Existence — Law — is  a  hidden,  undeveloped  essence, 
which  as  such — however  true  in  itself — is  not  completely 
real.  Aims,  principles,  &c.,  have  a  place  in  our  thoughts,  in 
our  subjective  design  only  ;  but  not  yet  in  the  sphere  of  rea- 
lity. That  which  exists  for  itself  only,  is  a  possibility,  a  po- 
tentiality ;  but  has  not  yet  emerged  into  Existence.  A  second 
element  must  be  introduced  in  order  to  produce  actuality — 
viz.  actuation,  realization  ;  and  whose  motive  power  is  the 
Will — the  activity  of  man  in  the  widest  sense.  It  is  only  by 
this  activity  that  that  Idea  as  well  as  abstract  characteristics 
generally,  are  realised,  actualised ;  for  of  themselves  they  are 
powerless.  The  motive  power  that  puts  them  in  operation, 
and  gives  them  determinate  existence,  is  the  need,  instinct, 
inclination,  and  passion  of  man.  That  some  conception  of 
mine  should  be  developed  into  act  and  existence,  is  my  earnest 
desire :  I  wish  to  assert  my  personality  in  connection  with 
it :  I  wish  to  be  satisfied  by  its  execution.  If  I  am  to  exert 
myself  for  any  object,  it  must  in  some  way  or  other  be  my 
object.  In  the  accomplishment  of  such  or  such  designs  I 
must  at  the  same  time  find  my  satisfaction  ;  although  the 
purpose  for  which  I  exert  myself  includes  a  complication  of 
results,  many  of  which  have  no  interest  for  me.  This  is  the 
absolute  right  of  personal  existence — to  find  itself  satisfied  in 
its  activity  and  labour.  If  men  are  to  interest  themselves 
for  anything,  they  must  (so  to  speak)  have  part  of  their  ex- 
istence involved  in  it ;  find  their  individuality  gratified  by  its 
attainment.  Here  a  mistake  must  be  avoided.  We  intend 
blame,  and  justly  impute  it  as  a  fault,  when  we  say  of  an 
individual,  that  he  is  "  interested"  (in  taking  part  in  such 
or  such  transactions,)  that  is,  seeks  only  his  private  advan- 
tage. In  reprehending  this  we  find  fault  with  him  for  fur- 
thering his  personal  aims  without  any  regard  to  a  more 
comprehensive  design ;  of  which  he  takes  advantage  to  pro- 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

mote  his  owr.  interest,  or  which  he  even  sacrifices  with  this 
view.  But  he  who  is  active  in  promoting  an  object,  is  not 
simply  "  interested,"  but  interested  in  that  object  itself.  Lan- 
guage faithfully  expresses  this  distinction. — Nothing  there- 
fore happens,  nothing  is  accomplished,  unless  the  individuals 
concerned,  seek  their  own  satisfaction  in  the  issue.  They  are 
particular  units  of  society ;  i.e.  they  have  special  needs,  in- 
stincts, and  interests  generally,  peculiar  to  themselves. 
Among  these  needs  are  not  only  such  as  we  usually  call  ne- 
cessities— the  stimuli  of  individual  desire  and  volition — but 
also  those  connected  with  individual  views  and  convictions  ; 
or — to  use  a  term  expressing  less  decision — leanings  of  opi- 
nion ;  supposing  the  impulses  of  reflection,  understanding, 
and  reason,  to  have  been  awakened.  In  these  cases  people 
demand,  if  they  are  to  exert  themselves  in  any  direction, 
that  the  object  should  commend  itself  to  them  ;  that  in  point 
of  opinion,  — whether  as  to  its  goodness,  justice,  advantage, 
profit,  — they  should  be  able  to  "  enter  into  it"  (dabei  seyn). 
This  is  a  consideration  of  especial  importance  in  our  age, 
when  people  are  less  than  formerly  influenced  by  reliance  on 
others,  and  by  authority  ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  they  de- 
vote their  activities  to  a  cause  on  the  ground  of  their  own 
understanding,  their  independent  conviction  and  opinion. 

We  assert  then  that  nothing  has  been  accomplished  with- 
out interest  on  the  part  of  the  actors  ;  and  —  if  interest  be 
called  passion,  inasmuch  as  the  whole  individuality,  to 
the  neglect  of  all  other  actual  or  possible  interests  and 
claims,  is  devoted  to  an  object  with  every  fibre  of  volition, 
concentrating  all  its  desires  and  powers  upon  it — we  may 
affirm  absolutely  that  nothing  great  in  the  World  has  been  ac- 
complished without  passion.  Two  elements,  therefore,  enter 
into  the  object  of  our  investigation  ;  the  first  the  Idea,  the 
second  the  complex  of  human  passions  ;  the  one  the  warp, 
the  other  the  woof  of  the  vast  arras-web  of  Universal  His- 
tory. The  concrete  mean  and  union  of  the  two  is  Liberty, 
under  the  conditions  of  morality  in  a  State.  We  have  spoken 
of  the  Idea  of  Freedom  as  the  nature  of  Spirit,  and  the  abso- 
lute goal  of  History.  Passion  is  regarded  as  a  thing  of  sinister 
aspect,  as  more  or  less  immoral.  Man  is  required  to  have  no 
passions.  Passion,  it  is  true,  is  not  quite  the  suitable  word 
for  what  I  wish  to  express.  I  mean  here  nothing  more  than 


SPRINGS    0¥    HUMAN   ACTION.  25 

human  activity  as  resulting  from  private  interests — special, 
or  if  you  will,  self-seeking  designs, — with  this  qualification, 
that  the  whole  energy  of  will  and  character  is  devoted  to  their 
attainment ;  that  other  interests,  (which  would  in  themselves 
constitute  attractive  aims)  or  rather  all  things  else,  are  sacri- 
ficed to  them.  The  object  in  question  is  so  bound  up  with  the 
man's  will,  that  it  entirely  and  alone  determines  the  "hue 
of  resolution,"  and  is  inseparable  from  it.  It  has  become 
the  very  essence  of  his  volition.  For  a  person  is  a  specific 
existence  ;  not  man  in  general,  (a  term  to  which  no  real  ex- 
istence corresponds)  but  a  particular  human  being.  The 
term  "  character"  likewise  expresses  this  idiosyncrasy  of 
Will  and  Intelligence.  But  Character  comprehends  all  pecu- 
liarities whatever ;  the  way  in  which  a  person  conducts  him- 
self in  private  relations,  &c.,  and  is  not  limited  to  his 
idiosyncrasy  in  its  practical  and  active  phase.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, use  the  term  "  passion  ;"  understanding  thereby  the 
particular  bent  of  character,  as  far  as  the  peculiarities  of 
volition  are  not  limited  to  private  interest,  but  supply  the 
impelling  and  actuating  force  for  accomplishiog  deeds  shared 
in  by  the  community  at  large.  Passion  is  in  the  first 
instance  the  subjective,  and  therefore  the  formal  side  of 
energy,  will,  and  activity — leaving  the  object  or  aim  still 
undetermined.  And  there  is  a  similar  relation  of  formality 
to  reality  in  merely  individual  conviction,  individual  views, 
individual  conscience.  It  is  always  a  question  of  essential 
importance,  what  is  the  purport  of  my  conviction,  what  the 
object  of  my  passion,  in  deciding  whether  the  one  or  the 
other  is  of  a  true  and  substantial  nature.  Conversely,  if  it 
is  so,  it  will  inevitably  attain  actual  existence — be  realized. 
From  this  comment  on  the  second  essential  element  in 
the  historical  embodiment  of  an  aim,  we  infer— glancing  at 
the  institution  of  the  State  in  passing, — that  a  State 
is  then  well  constituted  and  internally  powerful,  when  the 
private  interest  of  its  citizens  is  one  with  the  common  interest 
of  the  State  ;  when  the  one  finds  its  gratification  and  reali- 
zation in  the  other, — a  proposition  in  itself  very  important. 
But  in  a  State  many  institutions  must  be  adopted,  much 
political  machinery  invented,  accompanied  by  appropriate 
political  arrangements,  —  necessitating  long  struggles  of 
the  understanding  before  what  is  really  appropriate  can  bo 


26  INI  EODUCTIOK. 

discovered, — involving,  moreover,  contentions  with  private 
interest  and  passions,  and  a  tedious  discipline  of  these  latter, 
in  order  to  bring  about  the  desired  harmony.  The  epoch 
when  a  State  attains  this  harmonious  condition,  marks  the 
period  of  its  bloom,  its  virtue,  its  vigour,  and  its  prosperity. 
But  the  history  of  mankind  does  not  begin  with  a  conscious 
aim  of  any  kind,  as  it  is  the  case  with  the  particular  circles 
into  which  men  form  themselves  of  set  purpose.  The  mere 
social  instinct  implies  a  conscious  purpose  of  security  for  life 
and  property ;  and  when  society  has  been  constituted,  this 
purpose  becomes  more  comprehensive.  The  History  of  the 
World  begins  with  its  general  aim — the  realization  of  the 
Idea  of  Spirit — only  in  an  implicit  form  (an  sich)  that  is,  as 
Nature ;  a  hidden,  most  profoundly  hidden,  unconscious 
instinct ;  and  the  whole  process  of  History  (as  already 
observed),  is  directed  to  rendering  this  unconscious  impulse 
a  conscious  one.  Thus  appearing  in  the  form  of  merely 
natural  existence,  natural  will — that  which  has  been  called  the 
subjective  side, — physical  craving,  instinct,  passion,  private 
interest,  as  also  opinion  and  subjective  conception, — sponta- 
neously present  themselves  at  the  very  commencement. 
This  vast  congeries  of  volitions,  interests  and  activities,  con- 
stitute the  instruments  and  means  of  the  World-Spirit  for 
attaining  its  object ;  bringing  it  to  consciousness,  and  real- 
izing it.  And  this  aim  is  none  other  than  finding  itself — 
coming  to  itself — and  contemplating  itself  in  concrete  ac- 
tuality. But  that  those  manifestations  of  vitality  on  the 
part  of  individuals  and  peoples,  in  which  they  seek  and  satisfy 
their  own  purposes,  are,  at  the  same  time,  the  means  and 
instruments  of  a  higher  and  broader  purpose  of  which  they 
know  nothing, — which  they  realize  unconsciously, — might  be 
made  a  matter  of  question ;  rather  has  been  questioned, 
and  in  every  variety  of  form  negatived,  decried  and  con- 
temned as  mere  dreaming  and  "  Philosophy."  But  on  this 
point  I  announced  my  view  at  the  very  outset,  and  asserted 
our  hypothesis, — which,  however,  will  appear  in  the  sequel, 
in  the  form,  of  a  legitimate  inference, — and  our  belief,  that 
Reason  governs  the  world,  and  has  consequently  governed 
its  history.  In  relation  to  this  independently  universal  and 
pubstantial  existence — all  else  is  subordinate,  subservient  to 
it,  and  the  means  for  its  development. — The  Union  of 


?RINCI1?LI8.  27 

Universal  Abstract  Existence  generally  with  the  Individual, 
—the  Subjective— that  this  alone  IB  Truth,  belongs  to  the  de- 
partment of  speculation,  and  is  treated  in  this  general  form 
in  Logic. — But  in  the  process  of  the  "World's  History  itself, 
— as  still  incomplete, — the  abstract  final  aim  of  history  ia 
not  yet  made  the  distinct  object  of  desire  and  interest. 
While  these  limited  sentiments  are  still  unconscious  of  the 
purpose  they  are  fulfilling,  the  universal  principle  is  implicit 
in  them,  and  is  realizing  itself  through  them.  The  question 
also  assumes  the  form  of  the  union  of  Freedom  and  Necessity  ; 
the  latent  abstract  process  of  Spirit  being  regarded  as  Neces- 
sity, while  that  which  exhibits  itself  in  the  conscious  will  of 
men,  as  their  interest,  belongs  to  the  domain  of  Freedom. 
As  the  metaphysical  connection  (i.  e.  the  connection  in  the 
Idea)  of  these  forms  of  thought,  belongs  to  Logic,  it  would 
be  out  of  place  to  analyze  it  here.  The  chief  and  cardinal 
points  only  shall  be  mentioned. 

Philosophy  shews  that  the  Idea  advances  to  an  infinite 
antithesis  ;  that,  viz.  between  the  Idea  in  its  free,  universal 
form — in  which  it  exists  for  itself — and  the  contrasted  form 
of  abstract  introversion,  reflection  on  itself,  which  is  formal 
existence-for-self,  personality,  formal  freedom,  such  as  belongs 
to  Spirit  only.  The  universal  Idea  exists  thus  as  the  substantial 
totality  of  things  on  the  one  side,  and  as  the  abstract  essence 
of  free  volition  on  the  other  side.  This  reflection  of  the 
mind  on  itself  is  individual  self- consciousness  — the  polar 
opposite  of  the  Idea  in  its  general  form,  and  therefore  existing 
in  absolute  Limitation.  This  polar  opposite  is  consequently 
limitation,  particularization,  for  the  universal  absolute  being  ; 
it  is  the  side  of  its  definite  existence ;  the  sphere  of  its 
formal  reality,  the  sphere  of  the  reverence  paid  to  God.— 
To  comprehend  the  absolute  connection  of  this  antithesis,  is 
the  profound  task  of  metaphysics.  This  Limitation  originates 
all  forms  of  particularity  of  whatever  kind.  The  formal 
volition  [of  which  we  have  spoken]  wills  itself;  desires  to 
makes  its  own  personality  valid  in  all  that  it  purposes  and 
does :  even  the  pious  individual  wishes  to  be  saved  and  happy. 
This  pole  of  the  antithesis,  existing  for  itself,  is — in  contract 
with  the  Absolute  Universal  Being— a  special  separate  exist- 
ence, taking  cognizance  of  speciality  only,  and  willing  that 
alone.  In  short  it  plays  its  part  in  the  region  of  mere  phe- 


28  INTEODUCTIOF. 

nomena.  This  is  the  sphere  of  particular  purposes,  in  ef- 
fecting which  individuals  exert  themselves  on  behalf  of  their 
individuality — give  it  full  play  and  objective  realization.  This 
is  also  the  sphere  of  happiness  and  its  opposite.  He  is  happy 
who  finds  his  condition  suited  to  his  special  character,  will, 
and  fancy,  and  so  enjoys  himself  in  that  condition.  The 
History  of  the  "World  is  not  the  theatre  of  happiness. 
Periods  of  happiness  are  blank  pages  in  it,  for  they  are  periods 
of  harmony, — periods  when  the  antithesis  is  in  abeyance. 
Reflection  on  self, — the  Freedom  above  described — is  ab- 
stractly denned  as  the  formal  element  of  the  activity  of  the 
absolute  Idea.  The  realizing  activity  of  which  we  have 
spoken  is  the  middle  term  of  the  S37llogism,  one  of  whose 
extremes  is  the  Universal  essence,  the  Idea,  which  reposes  in 
the  penetralia  of  Spirit ;  and  the  other,  the  complex  of 
external  things, — objective  matter.  That  activity  is  the 
medium  by  which  the  universal  latent  principle  is  translated 
into  the  domain  of  objectivity. 

I  will  endeavour  to  make  what  has  been  said  more  vivid 
and  clear  by  examples. 

The  building  of  a  house  is,  in  the  first  instance,  a  subjective 
aim  and  design.  On  the  other  hand  we  have,  as  means,  the 
several  substances  required  for  the  work,  — Iron,  Wood, 
Stones.  The  elements  are  made  use  of  in  working  up  this 
material :  fire  to  melt  the  iron,  wind  to  blow  the  fire,  water  to 
set  wheels  in  motion,  in  order  to  cut  the  wood,  &c.  The 
result  is,  that  the  wind,  which  has  helped  to  build  the  house, 
is  shut  out  by  the  house  ;  so  also  are  the  violence  of  rains  and 
floods,  and  the  destructive  powers  of  fire,  so  far  as  the  house 
is  made  fire-proof.  The  stones  and  beams  obey  the  law  of 
gravity, — press  downwards, — and  so  high  walls  are  carried 
up.  Thus  the  elements  are  made  use  of  in  accordance  with 
their  nature,  and  yet  to  co-operate  for  a  product,  by  which 
their  operation  is  limited.  Thus  the  passions  of  men  are 
gratified  ;  they  develope  themselves  and  their  aims  in  accord- 
ance with  their  natural  tendencies,  and  build  up  the  edifice 
of  human  society  ;  thus  fortifying  a  position  for  Bight  and 
Order  against  themselves. 

The  connection  of  events  above  indicated,  involves  also  the 
fact,  that  in  history  an  additional  result  is  commonly  pro- 
duced by  human  actions  beyond  that  which  they  aim  at  and 


ILLTTSTBATIOHS.  29 

obtain — that  which  they  immediately  recognise  and  desire. 
They  gratify  their  own  interest ;  but  something  farther  ia 
thereby  accomplished,  latent  in  the  actions  in  question,  though 
not  present  to  their  consciousness,  and  not  included  in  their 
design.  An  analogous  example  is  offered  in  the  case  of  a 
man  who,  from  a  feeling  of  revenge, — perhaps  not  an  unjust 
one,  but  produced  by  injury  on  the  other's  part,— burns  that 
other  man's  house.  A  connection  is  immediately  established 
between  the  deed  itself  and  a  train  of  circumstances  not 
directly  included  in  it,  taken  abstractedly.  In  itself  it 
consisted  in  merely  presenting  a  small  flame  to  a  small 
portion  of  a  beam.  Events  not  involved  in  that  simple  act 
follow  of  themselves.  The  part  of  the  beam  which  was  set 
fire  to  is  connected  with  its  remote  portions ;  the  beam  itself 
its  united  with  the  woodwork  of  the  house  generally,  and  this 
with  other  houses  ;  so  that  a  wide  conflagration  ensues,  \\hich 
destroys  the  goods  and  chattels  of  many  other  persons  besides 
his  against  whom  the  act  of  revenge  was  first  directed ;  per- 
haps even  costs  not  a  few  men  their  lives.  This  lay  neither 
in  the  deed  abstractedly,  nor  in  the  design  of  the  man  who 
committed  it.  But  the  action  has  a  further  general  bearing. 
In  the  design  of  the  doer  it  was  only  revenge  executed 
against  an  individual  in  the  destruction  of  his  property,  but 
it  is  moreover  a  crime,  and  that  involves  punishment  also. 
This  may  not  have  been  present  to  the  mind  of  the  perpe- 
trator, still  less  in  his  intention;  but  his  deed  itself,  the 
general  principles  it  calls  into  play,  its  substantial  content 
entails  it.  By  this  example  I  wish  only  to  impress  on  you 
the  consideration,  that  in  a  simple  act,  something  farther 
may  be  implicated  than  lies  in  the  intention  and  conscious- 
ness of  the  agent.  The  example  before  us  involves,  however, 
this  additional  consideration,  that  the  substance  of  the  act, 
consequently  we  may  say  the  act  itself,  recoils  upon  the  per- 
petrator, — reacts  upon  him  with  destructive  tendency.  This 
union  of  the  two  extremes — the  embodiment  of  a  general  idea 
in  the  form  of  direct  reality,  and  the  elevation  of  a  speciality 
into  connection  with  universal  truth— is  brought  to  pass,  at 
first  sight,  under  the  conditions  of  an  utter  diversity  of 
nature  between  the  two,  and  an  indifference  of  the  one 
extreme  towards  the  other.  The  aims  which  the  agents  set 
before  them  are  limited  and  special ;  but  it  must  be  remarked 


SO  INTRODUCTION. 

that  the  agents  themselves  are  intelligent  thinking  beings, 
The  purport  of  their  desires  is  interwoven  with  general,  essen- 
tial considerations  of  justice,  good,  duty,  &c ;  for  mere 
desire — volition  in  its  rough  and  savage  forms — falls  not 
within  the  scene  and  sphere  of  Universal  History.  Those 
general  considerations,  which  form  at  the  same  time  a  norm 
for  directing  aims  and  actions,  have  a  determinate  purport ; 
for  such  an  abstraction  as  "  good  for  its  own  sake,"  has  no 
place  in  living  reality.  If  men  are  to  act,  they  must  not  only 
intend  the  Good,  but  must  have  decided  for  themselves 
whether  this  or  that  particular  thing  is  a  Good.  What  special 
course  of  action,  however,  is  good  or  not,  is  determined,  as 
regards  the  ordinary  contingencies  of  private  life,  by  the  laws 
and  customs  of  a  State  ;  and  here  no  great  difficulty  is  pre- 
sented. Each  individual  has  his  position ;  he  knows  on 
the  whole  what  a  just,  honourable  course  of  conduct  is.  Aa 
to  ordinary,  private  relations,  the  assertion  that  it  is  difficult 
to  choose  the  right  and  good, — the  regarding  it  as  the  mark 
of  an  exalted  morality  to  find  difficulties  and  raise  scruples 
on  that  score, — may  be  set  down  to  an  evil  or  perverse  will, 
which  seeks  to  evade  duties  not  in  themselves  of  a  per- 
plexing nature  ;  or,  at  any  rate,  to  an  idly  reflective  habit  of 
mind — where  a  feeble  will  affords  no  sufficient  exercise  to 
the  faculties, — leaving  them  therefore  to  find  occupation 
within  themselves,  and  to  expend  themselves  on  moral  self- 
adulation. 

It  is  quite  otherwise  with  the  comprehensive  relations 
that  History  has  to  do  with.  In  this  sphere  are  presented 
those  momentous  collisions  between  existing,  acknowledged 
duties,  laws,  and  rights,  and  those  contingencies  which  are 
adverse  to  this  fixed  system  ;  which  assail  and  even  destroy 
its  foundations  and  existence  ;  whose  tenor  may  nevertheless 
seem  good, — on  the  large  scale  advantageous, — yes,  even  in- 
dispensable and  necessary.  These  contingencies  realise 
themselves  in  History :  they  involve  a  general  principle  of  a 
different  order  from  that  on  which  depends  the  permanence 
of  a  people  or  a  State.  This  principle  is  an  essential  phase 
in  the  development  of  the  creating  Idea,  of  Truth  striving  and 
urging  towards  [consciousness  of]  itself,  Historical  men — 
World-Historical  Individuals — are  those  in  whose  aims  such 
a  general  principle  lies. 


CHEAT    MEN.  31 

CVesar,  in  danger  of  losing  a  position,  not  perhaps  at  that 
time  of  superiority,  yet  at  least  of  equality  with  the  others 
who  were  at  the  head  of  the  State,  and  of  succumbing  to 
those  who  were  just  on  the  point  of  becoming  his  enemies, 
—  belongs  essentially  to  this  category.  These  enemies — who 
were  at  the  same  time  pursuing  their  personal  aims — had  the 
form  of  the  constitution,  and  the  power  conferred  by  an  ap- 
pearance of  justice,  on  their  side.  Csesar  was  contending  for 
the  maintenance  of  his  position,  honour,  and  safety ;  and, 
since  the  power  of  his  opponents  included  the  sovereignty 
over  the  provinces  of  the  Roman  Empire,  hia  yictory  secured 
for  him  the  conquest  of  that  entire  Empire  ;  and  he  thus  be- 
came— though  leaving  the  form  of  the  constitution — the 
Autocrat  of  the  State.  That  which  secured  for  him  the  exe- 
cution of  a  design,  which  in  the  first  instance  was  of  negative 
import — the  Autocracy  of  Home, — was,  however,  at  the  same 
time  an  independently  necessary  feature  in  the  history  of 
Rome  and  of  the  world.  It  was  not,  then,  his  private  gain 
merely,  but  an  unconscious  impulse  that  occasioned  the 
accomplishment  of  that  for  which  the  time  was  ripe.  Sucli 
are  all  great  historical  men, — whose  own  particular  aims 
involve  those  large  issues  which  are  the  will  of  the  World- 
Spirit.  They  may  be  called  Heroes,  inasmuch  as  they  have 
derived  their  purposes  and  their  vocation,  not  from  the  talm, 
regular  course  of  things,  sanctioned  by  the  existing  order  ; 
but  from  a  concealed  fount — one  which  has  not  attained  to 
phenomenal,  present  existence, — from  that  inner  Spirit,  still 
hidden  beneath  the  surface,  which,  impinging  on  the  outer 
world  as  on  a  shell,  bursts  it  in  pieces,  because  it  is  another 
kernel  than  that  which  belonged  to  the  shell  in  question. 
They  are  men,  therefore,  who  appear  to  draw  the  impulse  of 
their  life  from  themselves ;  and  whose  deeds  have  produced 
a  condition  of  things  and  a  complex  of  historical  relations 
which  appear  to  be  only  their  interest,  and  their  work. 

Such  individuals  had  no  consciousness  of  the  general 
Idea  they  were  unfolding,  while  prosecuting  those  aims  of 
theirs ;  on  the  contrary,  they  were  practical,  political  men. 
But  at  the  same  time  they  were  thinking  men,  who  had  an 
insight  into  the  requirements  of  the  time — what  was  ripe 
for  development.  This  was  the  very  Truth  for  their  age,  for 
their  world ;  the  species  next  in  order,  so  to  speak,  anJ 


82  INTRODUCTION. 

which  was  already  formed  in  the  wornb  of  time.  It  was 
theirs  to  know  this  nascent  principle  ;  the  necessary,  directly 
sequent  step  in  progress,  which  their  world  was  to  take  ;  to 
make  this  their  aim,  and  to  expend  their  energy  in  promot- 
ing it.  World-historical  men— the  Heroes  of  an  epoch — 
must,  therefore,  he  recognised  as  its  clear-sighted  ones ;  their 
deeds,  their  words  are  the  best  of  that  time.  Great  men 
have  formed  purposes  to  satisfy  themselves,  not  others. 
Whatever  prudent  designs  and  counsels  they  might  have 
learned  from  others,  would  be  the  more  limited  and  incon- 
sistent features  in  their  career ;  for  it  was  they  who  best 
understood  affairs  ;  from  whom  others  learned,  and  approved, 
or  at  least  acquiesced  in — their  policy.  For  that  Spirit  which 
had  taken  this  fresh  step  in  history  is  the  inmost  soul  of  all 
individuals;  but  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness  which  the 
great  men  in  question  aroused.  Their  fellows,  therefore, 
follow  these  soul-leaders ;  for  they  feel  the  irresistible  power 
of  their  own  inner  Spirit  thus  embodied.  If  we  go  on  to 
cast  a  look  at  the  fate  of  these  World-Historical  persons, 
whose  vocation  it  was  to  be  the  agents  of  the  World-Spirit, 
— we  shall  find  it  to  have  been  no  happy  one.  They  attained 
no  calm  enjoyment ;  their  whole  life  was  labour  and  trouble ; 
their  whole  nature  was  nought  else  but  their  master-passion. 
When  their  object  is  attained  they  fall  off  like  empty  hulls 
from  the  kernel.  They  die  early,  like  Alexander ;  they  are 
murdered,  like  Ca3sar  ;  transported  to  St.  Helena,  like 
Napoleon.  This  fearful  consolation — that  historical  men  have 
not  enjoyed  what  is  called  happiness,  and  of  which  only  pri- 
vate life  (and  this  may  be  passed  under  very  various  external 
circumstances)  is  capable, — this  consolation  those  may  draw 
from  history,  who  stand  in  need  of  it ;  and  it  is  craved  by 
Envy — vexed  at  what  is  great  and  transcendant, — striving, 
therefore,  to  depreciate  it,  and  to  find  some  flaw  in  it.  Thus 
11  modern  times  it  has  been  demonstrated  ad  nauseam  that 
princes  are  generally  unhappy  on  their  thrones  ;  in  conside- 
ration of  which  the  possession  of  a  throne  is  tolerated,  and 
men  acquiesce  in  the  fact  that  not  themselves  but  the  per- 
sonages in  question  are  its  occupants.  The  Free  Man,  we 
may  observe,  is  not  envious,  but  gladly  recognises  what  ia 
great  and  exalted,  and  rejoices  that  it  exists. 

It  is  in  the  light  of  those  common  elements  which  con* 


GBEAT    MEN.  3v3 

etitutetlie  interest  and  therefore  the  passions  of  individuals- 
that  these  historical  men  are  to  be  regarded.   They  are  greas 
men,  because  they  willed  and  accomplished  something  great; 
not  a  mere  fancy,  a  mere  intention,  but  that  which  met  the 
case  and  fell  in  with  the  needs  of  the  age.     This  mode  of 
considering  them  also  excludes  the  so-called  "psych ologieal" 
view,  which  -  serving  the  purpose  of  envy  most  effectually — 
contrives   so  to  refer  all  actions  to  the  heart, — to   bring 
them  under  such  a  subjective  aspect — as  that  their  authors 
appear  to  have  done  everything  under  the  impulse  of  some 
passion,  mean   or  grand, — some  morbid  craving ', —  and   on 
account  of  these  passions  and  cravings  to   have  been  not 
moral  men.     Alexander  of  Macedon  partly  subdued  Greece, 
and  then  Asia ;  therefore  he  was  possessed  by  a  morbid  crav- 
ing for  conquest.     He  is  alleged  to  have  acted  from  a  craving 
for  fame,  for  conquest ;  and  the  proof  that  these  were  the 
impelling  motives  is  that  he  did  that  which  resulted  in  fame. 
What  pedagogue  has  not  demonstrated  of  Alexander  the 
Great — of  Julius  Caesar — that  they  were  instigated  by  such 
passions,  and  were  consequently  immoral  men  ?  —  whence  the 
conclusion  immediately  follows  that  he,  the  pedagop-^e,  is  a 
better  man  than  they,  because  he  has  not  such  passions ;  a 
proof  of  which  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  does  not  conquer 
Asia, — vanquish  Darius  and  Porus, — but  while  he  enjoys  life 
himself,  lets  others  enjoy  it  too.     These  psychologies  are 
particularly  fond  of  contemplating  those  pecularities  of  great 
historical  figures  which  appertain  to  them  as  private  persons. 
Man  must  eat  and  drink  ;  he  sustains  relations  to  friends 
and  acquaintances  ;  he  has  passing  impulses  and  ebullitions 
of  temper-     "  No  man  is  a  hero  to  his  valet- de-chambre,"  is 
a  well-known  proverb ;  I  have  added — and  Goethe  repeated 
it  ten  years  later — "  but  not  because  the  former  is  no  hero, 
but  because  the  latter  is  a  valet."     He  takes  off  the  hero's" 
boots,   assists   him  to  bed,  knows   that   he  prefers   cham- 
pagne, &c.     Historical  personages  waited  upon  in  historical 
literature  by  such  psychological  valets,  come  poorly  off;  they 
are  brought  down  by  these  their  attendants  to  a  level   with 
— or  rather  a  few  degrees  below  the  level   of — the  morality 
of  such  exquisite  discerners  of  spirits.     The  Thersites  of 
Homer  who  abuses  the  kings  is  a  standing  figure  for  all 
times.    Blows — that  is  beating  with  a  solid  cudgel— he  does 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

not  get  in  every  age,  as  in  the  Homeric  one  ;  but  his  envy, 
his  egotism,  is  the  thorn  which  he  has  to  carry  in  his  flesh  ; 
and  the  undying  worm  that  gnaws  him  is  the  tormenting 
consideration  that  his  excellent  views  and  vituperations 
remain  absolutely  without  result  in  the  world.  But  our 
satisfaction  at  the  fate  of  Thersitism  also,  may  have  its 
sinister  side. 

A  World-historical  individual  is  not  so  unwise  as  to  indulge 
a  variety  of  wishes  to  divide  his  regards.  He  is  devoted  to 
the  One  Aim,  regardless  of  all  else.  It  is  even  possible  that 
such  men  may  treat  other  great,  even  sacred  interests,  incon- 
siderately ;  conduct  which  is  indeed  obnoxious  to  moral  repre- 
hension. But  so  mighty  a  form  must  trample  down  many 
an  innocent  flower — crush  to  pieces  many  an  object  in  its 
path. 

The  special  interest  of  passion  is  thus  inseparable  from 
the  active  development  of  a  general  principle :  for  it  is  from 
the  special  and  determinate  and  from  its  negation,  that  the 
Universal  results.  Particularity  contends  with  its  like,  and 
some  loss  is  involved  in  the  issue.  It  is  not  the  general  idea 
that  is  implicated  in  opposition  and  combat,  and  that  is 
exposed  to  danger.  It  remains  in  the  background,  untouched 
and  uninjured.  This  may  be  called  the  cunn  ing  of  reason, — 
that  it  sets  the  passions  to  work  for  itself,  while  that  which 
develops  its  existence  through  such  impulsion  pays  the 
penalty,  and  suffers  loss.  For  it  is  phenomenal  being  that  is 
so  treated,  and  of  this,  part  is  of  no  value,  part  is  positive 
and  real.  The  particular  is  for  the  most  part  of  too  trifling 
value  as  compared  with  the  general :  individuals  are  sacri- 
ficed and  abandoned.  The  Idea  pays  the  penalty  of  deter- 
minate existence  and  of  corruptibility,  not  from  itself,  but 
from  the  passions  of  individuals. 

But  though  we  might  tolerate  the  idea  that  individuals, 
their  desires  and  the  gratification  of  them,  are  thus  sacri- 
ficed, and  their  happiness  given  up  to  the  empire  of  chance, 
to  which  it  belongs  ;  aud  that  as  a  general  rule,  individuals 
come  under  the  category  of  means  to  an  ulterior  end,— there 
is  one  aspect  of  human  individuality  which  we  should  hesitate 
to  regard  in  that  subordinate  light,  even  in  relation  to  the 
highest ;  since  it  is  absolutely  no  subordinate  element,  but 
exists  in  those  individuals  as  inherently  eternal  and  divir.e. 


CLAIMS  OF  MORALITY,  ABSOLUTE.          35 

I  mean  morality,  ethics,  religion.  Even  when  speaking  of 
the  realization  of  the  great  ideal  aim  by  means  of  indivi- 
duals, the  subjective  element  in  them — their  interest  and  that 
of  their  cravings  and  impulses,  their  views  and  judgments, 
though  exhibited  as  the  merely  formal  side  of  their  exist- 
ence,— was  spoken  of  as  having  an  infinite  right  to  be  con- 
sulted. The  first  idea  that  presents  itself  in  speaking  of 
means  is  that  of  something  external  to  the  object,  and  hav- 
ing no  share  in  the  object  itself.  But  merely  natural  things — 
even  the  commonest  lifeless  objects — used  as  means,  must  be 
of  such  a  kind  as  adapts  them  to  their  purpose ;  they  must 
possess  something  in  common  with  it.  Human  beings  least 
of  all,  sustain  the  bare  external  relation  of  mere  means  to 
the  great  ideal  aim.  Not  only  do  they  in  the  very  act  of 
realising  it,  make  it  the  occasion  of  satisfying  personal  desires, 
whose  purport  is  diverse  from  that  aim — but  they  share  in 
that  ideal  aim  itself ;  and  are  for  that  very  reason  objects  of 
their  own  existence ;  not  formally  merely,  as  the  world  of 
living  beings  generally  is, — whose  individual  life  is  essentially 
subordinate  to  that  of  man,  and  is  properly  used  up  as  an 
instrument.  Men,  on  the  contrary,  are  objects  of  existence 
to  themselves,  as  regards  the  intrinsic  import  of  the  aim  in 
question.  To  this  order  belongs  that  in  them  which  we  would 
exclude  from  the  category  of  mere  means,  -  Morality,  Ethics, 
Religion.  That  is  to  say,  man  is  an  object  of  existence  in 
himself  only  in  virtue  of  the  Divine  that  is  in  him, — that  which 
was  designated  at  the  outset  as  Reason  ;  which,  in  view 
of  its  activity  and  power  of  self-determination,  was  called 
Freedom.  And  we  affirm — without  entering  at  present  on  the 
proof  of  the  assertion — that  Religion,  Morality,  &c.  have  their 
foundation  and  source  in  that  principle,  and  so  are  essentially 
elevated  above  all  alien  necessity  and  chance.  And  here  we . 
must  remark  that  individuals,  to  the  extent  of  their  freedom, 
are  responsible  for  the  depravation  and  enfeeblement  of 
morals  and  religion.  This  is  the  seal  of  the  absolute  and 
sublime  destiny  of  man — that  he  knows  what  is  good  and 
what  is  evil ;  that  his  Destiny  is  his  very  ability  to  will 
either  good  or  evil, — in  one  word,  that  he  is  the  subject  of 
moral  imputation,  imputation  not  only  of  evil,  but  of  good  ; 
and  not  only  concerning  this  or  that  particular  matter,  and 
all  that  Lappens  ab  extra,  but  also  the  good  and  evil  attach- 


33  INTRODUCTION. 

ing  to  his  individual  freedom.  The  brute  alone  is  simply 
innocent.  It  would,  however,  demand  an  extensive  expia« 
nation — as  extensive  as  the  analysis  of  moral  freedom  itself — 
to  preclude  or  obviate  all  the  misunderstandings  which  the 
statement  that  what  is  called  innocence  imports  the  entire 
unconsciousness  of  evil — is  wont  to  occasion. 

In  contemplating  the  fate  which  virtue,  morality,  even 
piety  experience  in  history,  we  must  not  fall  into  the  Litany 
of  Lamentations,  that  the  good  and  pious  often — or  for  the 
most  part — fare  ill  in  the  world,  while  the  evil-disposed  and 
wicked  prosper.  The  term  prosperity  is  used  in  a  variety 
of  meanings — riches,  outward  honour,  and  the  like.  But  in 
speaking  of  something  \vhich  in  and  for  itself  constitutes  an 
aim  of  existence,  that  so-called  well  or  ill-faring  of  these  or 
those  isolated  individuals  cannot  be  regarded  as  an  essential 
element  in  the  rational  order  of  the  universe.  With  more 
justice  than  happiness,  —  or  a  fortunate  environment  for  in- 
dividuals, -  it  is  demanded  of  the  grand  aim  of  the  world's 
existence,  that  it  should  foster,  nay  involve  the  execution 
and  ratification  of  good,  moral,  righteous  purposes.  What 
makes  men  morally  discontented  (a  discontent,  by  the  bye, 
on  which  they  somewhat  pride  themselves),  is  that  they  do 
not  find  the  present  adapted  to  the  realization  of  aims  which 
they  hold  to  be  right  and  just  (more  especially  in  modern 
times,  ideals  of  political  constitutions);  they  contrast 
unfavourably  things  as  they  are,  with  their  idea  of  things  as 
they  ought  to  be.  In  this  case  it  is  not  private  interest 
nor  passion  that  desires  gratification,  but  Reason,  Justice, 
Liberty  ;  and  equipped  with  this  title,  the  demand  in  ques- 
tion assumes  a  lofty  bearing,  and  readily  adopts  a  position 
not  merely  of  discontent,  but  of  open  revolt  against  the 
actual  condition  of  the  world.  To  estimate  such  a  feeling 
and  such  views  aright,  the  demands  insisted  upon,  and  the 
very  dogmatic  opinions  asserted,  must  be  examined.  At  no 
time  so  much  as  in  our  own,  have  such  general  principles  and 
notions  been  advanced,  or  with  greater  assurance.  If  in  days 
gone  by,  history  seems  to  present  itself  as  a  struggle  of  pas- 
sions ;  in  our  time — though  displays  of  passion  are  not  want- 
ing— it  exhibits  partly  a  predominance  of  the  struggle  of 
notions  assuming  the  authority  of  principles  ;  partly  that  of 
passions  and  interests  essentially  subjective,  but  undor  the 


HEALIZATION   OJf   THE   IDEAL.  37 

mask  of  such  higher  sanctions.  The  pretensions  thus  con- 
tended for  as  legitimate  in  the  name  of  that  which  has  been 
stated  as  the  ultimate  aim  of  Reason,  pass  accordingly,  for 
absolute  aims, — to  the  same  extent  as  Religion,  Morals, 
Ethics.  Nothing,  as  before  remarked,  is  now  more  common 
than  the  complaint  that  the  ideals  which  imagination  sets 
up  are  not  realized — that  these  glorious  dreams  are  destroyed 
by  cold  actuality.  These  Ideals — which  in  the  voyage  of  life 
founder  on  the  rocks  of  hard  reality — may  be  in  the  first 
instance  only  subjective,  and  belong  to  the  idiosyncrasy  of 
the  individual,  imagining  himself  the  highest  and  wisest.  Such 
do  not  properly  belong  to  this  category.  For  the  fancies 
which  the  individual  in  his  isolation  indulges,  cannot  be  the 
model  for  universal  reality  ;  just  as  universal  law  is  not  de- 
signed for  the  units  of  the  mass.  These  as  such  may,  in  fact, 
find  their  interests  decidedly  thrust  into  the  background. 
But  by  the  term  "  Ideal,"  we  also  understand  the  ideal  of 
Reason,  of  the  Good,  of  the  True.  Poets,  as  e.g.  Schiller, 
have  painted  such  ideals  touchingly  and  with  strong  emotion, 
and  with  the  deeply  melancholy  conviction  that  they 
could  not  be  realized.  In  affirming,  on  the  contrary,  that 
the  Universal  Reason  does  realize  itself,  we  have  indeed 
nothing  to  do  with  the  individual  empirically  regarded. 
That  admits  of  degrees  of  better  and  worse,  since  here 
chance  and  speciality  have  received  authority  from  the  Idea 
to  exercise  their  monstrous  power.  Much,  therefore,  in 
particular  aspects  of  the  grand  phenomenon  might  be 
found  fault  with.  This  subjective  fault-finding. — which,  how- 
ever, only  keeps  in  view  the  individual  and  its  deficiency, 
without  taking  notice  of  Reason  pervading  the  whole, — is 
easy  ;  and  inasmuch  as  it  asserts  an  excellent  intention  with 
regard  to  the  good  of  the  whole,  and  seems  to  result  from 
a  kindly  heart,  it  feels  authorized  to  give  itself  airs  and  as- 
sume great  consequence.  It  is  easier  to  discover  a  deficiency 
in  individuals,  in  states,  and  in  Providence,  than  to  see  their 
real  import  and  value.  For  in  this  merely  negative  fault- 
finding a  proud  position  is  taken,  — one  which  overlooks  the 
object,  without  having  entered  into  it, — without  having  com- 
prehended its  positive  aspect.  Age  generally  makes  men 
more  tolerant ;  youth  is  always  discontented.  The  tolerance 
of  age  is  the  result  of  the  ripeness  of  a  judgment  which,  not 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

merely  as  the  result  of  indifference,  is  satisfied  even  with 
what  is  inferior;  but,  more  deeply  taught  by  the  grave  ex- 
perience of  life,  has  been  led  to  perceive  the  substantial, 
solid  worth  of  the  object  in  question.  The  insight  then  to 
which — in  contradistinction  from  those  ideals— philosophy  is 
to  lead  us,  is,  that  the  real  world  is  as  it  ought  to  be — that 
the  truly  good— the  universal  divine  reason— is  not  a  mere 
abstraction,  but  a  vital  principle  capable  of  realising  itself. 
This  Good,  this  Reason,  in  its  most  concrete  form,  is  God. 
G-od  governs  the  world  ;  the  actual  working  of  his  govern- 
ment— the  carrying  out  of  his  plan — is  the  History  of  the 
"World.  This  plan  philosophy  strives  to  comprehend ;  for 
only  that  which  has  been  developed  as  the  result  of  it,  pos- 
sesses bond  fide  reality.  That  which  does  not  accord  with 
it,  is  negative,  worthless  existence.  Before  the  pure  light  of 
this  divine  Idea — which  is  no  mere  Ideal — the  phantom  of  a 
world  whose  events  are  an  incoherent  concourse  of  fortuitous 
circumstances,  utterly  vanishes.  Philosophy  wishes  to  dis- 
cover the  substantial  purport,  the  real  side  of  the  divine  idea, 
and  to  justify  the  so  much  despised  Reality  of  things  ;  fo 
Heason  is  the  comprehension  of  the  Divine  work.  But  as  to 
what  concerns  the  perversion,  corruption,  and  ruin  of  reli- 
gious, ethical  and  moral  purposes,  and  states  of  society 
t  generally,  it  must  be  affirmed,  that  in  their  essence  these  are 
infinite  and  eternal;  but  that  the  forms  they  assume  may  be 
of  a  limited  order,  and  consequently  belong  to  the  domain 
of  mere  nature,  and  be  subject  to  the  sway  of  chance. 
They  are  therefore  perishable,  and  exposed  to  decay  and 
corruption.  E-eligiou  and  morality — in  the  same  way  as  in- 
herently universal  essences — have  the  peculiarity  of  being 
present  in  the  individual  soul,  in  the  full  extent  of  their  Idea, 
and  therefore  truly  and  really  ;  although  they  may  not  mani- 
fest themselves  in  it  in  extenso,  and  are  not  applied  to  fully 
developed  relations.  The  religion,  the  morality  of  a  limited 
sphere  of  life — tLat  of  a  shepherd  or  a  peasant,  e.g. — in  its  in. 
tensive  concentration  and  limitation  to  a  few  perfectly  simple 
relations  of  life, — has  infinite  worth  ;  the  same  worth  as  the 
religion  and  morality  c:  crconsive  knowledge,  and  of  an 
existence  rich  in  the  compass  of  its  relations  and  actions. 
This  inner  focus — this  simple  region  of  the  claims  of  subjective 
freedom, — the  home  of  volition,  resolution,  and  action,  —the 


POSITIVE    EXISTENCE    O*    EEASOff.  39 

abstract  sphere  of  conscience, — that  which  comprises  the 
responsibility  and  moral  value  of  the  individual,  remains 
untouched  ;  and  is  quite  shut  out  from  the  noisy  din  of  the 
"World's History — includingnot  merely  external  and  temporal 
changes,  but  also  those  entailed  by  the  absolute  necessity  in- 
separable from  the  realization  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom  itself. 
But  as  a  general  truth  this  must  be  regarded  as  settled, 
that  whatever  in  the  world  possesses  claims  as  noble  and 
glorious,  has  nevertheless  a  higher  existence  above  it.  The 
claim  of  the  World-Spirit  rises  above  all  special  claims. 

These  observations  may  suffice  in  reference  to  the  means 
which  the  World-Spirit  uses  for  realizing  its  Idea.  Stated 
simply  and  abstractly,  this  mediation  involves  the  activity 
of  personal  existences  in  whom  Reason  is  present  as  their 
absolute,  substantial  being  ;  but  a  basis,  in  the  first  instance, 
still  obscure  and  unknown  to  them.  But  the  subject  becomes 
more  complicated  and  difficult  when  we  regard  individuals 
not  merely  in  their  aspect  of  activity,  but  more  concretely, 
in  conjunction  witli  a  particular  manifestation  of  that  activity 
in  their  religion  and  morality, — forms  of  existence  which  are 
intimately  connected  with  Beason,  and  share  in  its  absolute 
claims.  Here  the  relation  of  mere  means  to  an  end  disappears, 
and  the  chief  bearings  of  this  seeming  difficulty  in  reference 
to  the  absolute  aim  of  Spirit,  have  been  briefly  considered. 

(3.)  The  third  point  to  be  analysed  is,  therefore — what* 
is  the  object  to  be  realized  by  these  means  ;  i.  e.  what  is  the 
form  it  assumes  in  the  realm  of  reality.  We  have  spoken  of 
means  ;  but  in  the  carrying  out  of  a  subjective,  limited  aim, 
we  have  also  to  take  into  consideration  the  element  of  a 
material,  either  already  present  or  which  has  to  be  procured. 
Thus  the  question  would  arise :  What  is  the  material  in 
which  the  Ideal  of  Beason  is  wrought  out  ?  The  primary 
answer  would  be, — Personality  itself — human  desires —Sub- 
jectivity generally.  In  human  knowledge  and  volition,  ~as 
its  material  element,  Beason  attains  positive  existence. 
We  have  considered  subjective  volition  where  it  has  an 
object  which  is  the  truth  and  essence  of  a  reality,  viz.  where 
it  constitutes  a  great  world-historical  passion.  As  a  subjec- 
tive will,  occupied  with  limited  passions,  it  is  dependent,  and 
can  gratify  its  desires  only  within  the  limits  of  this  depen- 
dence. But  the  subjective  will  has  also  a  substantial  life— 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

a  reality,— IL  which  it  moves  in  the  region  of  essential  being, 
and  has  the  essential  itself  as  the  object  of  its  exist- 
ence. This  essential  being  is  the  union  of  the  subjective 
with  the  rational  Will :  it  is  the  moral  "Whole,  the  State,  which 
is  that  form  of  reality  in  which  the  individual  has  and  enjoys 
Ins  freedom ;  but  on  the  condition  of  his  recognizing,  believing 
in  and  willing  that  which  is  common  to  the  Whole.  And  this 
must  not  be  understood  as  if  the  subjective  will  of  the  social 
unit  attained  its  gratification  and  enjoyment  through  that 
common  Will ;  as  if  this  were  a  means  provided  for  its  benefit ; 
as  if  the  individual,  in  his  relations  to  other  individuals,  thus 
limited  his  freedom,  in  order  that  this  universal  limitation  — 
the  mutual  constraint  of  all — might  secure  a  small  space  of 
liberty  for  each.  Rather,  we  affirm,  are  Law,  Morality, 
Government,  and  they  alone,  the  positive  reality  and  com- 
pletion of  Freedom.  Freedom  of  a  low  and  limited  order, 
is  mere  caprice ;  which  finds  its  exercise  in  the  sphere  of 
particular  and  limited  desires. 

Subjective  volition — Passion — is  that  which  sets  men  in 
activity,  that  which  effects  "  practical"  realization.  Theldea  is 
the  inner  spring  of  action  ;  the  State  is  the  actually  existing, 
realized  moral  life.  For  it  is  the  Unity  of  the  universal, 
essential  Will,  with  that  of  the  individual ;  and  this  is  "  Mo- 
rality." The  Individual  living  in  this  unity  has  a  moral 
"life ;  possesses  a  value  that  consists  in  this  substantiality 
alone.  Sophocles  in  his  Antigone,  says,  "  The  divine  com- 
mands are  not  of  yesterday,  nor  of  to-day  ;  no,  they  have  an 
infinite  existence,  and  no  one  could  say  whence  they  came." 
The  laws  of  morality  are  not  accidental,  but  are  the  essen- 
tially Eational.  It  is  the  very  object  of  the  State  that  what 
is  essential  in  the  practical  activity  of  men,  and  in  their  dis- 
positions, should  be  duly  recognized ;  that  it  should  have  a 
manifest  existence,  and  maintain  its  position.  It  is  the  abso- 
lute interest  of  Reason  that  this  moral  Whole  should  exist ; 
and  herein  lies  the  justification  and  merit  of  heroes  who  have 
founded  states, — however  rude  these  may  have  been.  In  the 
history  of  the  World,  only  those  peoples  can  come  under  our 
notice  which  form  a  state.  For  it  must  be  understood  that 
this  latter  is  the  realization  of  Freedom,  i.e.  of  the  absolute 
final  aim,  and  that  it  exists  for  its  own  sake.  It  must  further 
be  understood  that  all  the  worth  which  the  human  being  pos- 


IDEA.  01   THE    STATE.  41 

sesses — all  spiritual  reality,  he  possesses  only  through  the 
State.  For  his  spiritual  reality  consists  in  this,  that  his  own 
essence — Reason — is  objectively  present  to  him,  that  it  pos- 
sesses objective  immediate  existence  for  him.  Thus  only  ia 
he  fully  conscious  ;  thus  only  is  he  a  partaker  of  morality — of 
a  just  and  moral  social  and  political  life.  For  Truth  is  the 
Unity  of  the  universal  and  subjective  Will ;  and  the  Universal 
is  to  be  found  in  the  State,  in  its  laws,  its  universal  and  ra- 
tional arrangements.  The  State  is  the  Divine  Idea  as  it 
exists  on  Earth.  We  have  in  it,  therefore,  the  object  of 
History  in  a  more  definite  shape  than  before  ;  that  in  which 
Freedom  obtains  objectivity,  and  lives  in  the  enjoyment  of 
this  objectivity.  For  Law  is  the  objectivity  of  Spirit ;  volition 
in  its  true  form.  Only  that  will  which  obeys  law,  is  free ; 
for  it  obeys  itself — it  is  independent  and  so  free.  When  the 
State  or  our  country  constitutes  a  community  of  existence  ; 
when  the  subjective  will  of  man  submits  to  laws, — the  contra- 
diction between  Liberty  and  Necessity  vanishes.  The  Ra- 
tional has  necessary  existence,  as  being  the  reality  and 
substance  of  things,  and  we  are  free  in  recognizing  it  as  law, 
and  following  it  as  the  substance  of  our  own  being.  The 
objective  and  the  subjective  will  are  then  reconciled, 
and  present  one  identical  homogeneous  whole.  For  the 
morality  (Sittlichkeit)  of  the  State  is  not  of  that  ethical 
(moralische)  reflective  kind,  in  which  one's  own  conviction 
bears  sway ;  this  latter  is  rather  the  peculiarity  of  the 
modern  time,  while  the  true  antique  morality  is  based  on  the 
principle  of  abiding  by  one's  duty  [to  the  state  at  large]. 
An  Athenian  citizen  did  what  was  required  of  him,  as  it 
were  from  instinct :  but  if  I  reflect  on  the  object  of  my 
activity,  I  must  have  the  consciousness  that  my  will  haa 
been  called  into  exercise.  But  morality  is  Duty — substan- 
tial Eight— a  "second  nature"  as  it  has  been  just.y  called.; 
for  the  first  nature  of  man  is  his  primary  merely  animal  ex- 
istence. 

The  development  in  extenso  of  the  Idea  of  the  State  be- 
longs to  the  Philosophy  of  Jurisprudence ;  but  it  must  be 
observed  that  in  the  theories  of  our  time  various  errors  are 
current  respecting  it,  which  pass  for  established  truths,  and 
have  become  fixed  prejudices.  "We  will  mention  only  a  few 
of  them,  giving  prominence  to  such  as  have  a  reference  to 
the  object  of  our  history. 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

The  error  which  first  meets  us  is  the  direct  contradictory 
of  our  principle  that  the  state  presents  the  realization  of 
Freedom  ;  the  opinion,  viz.,  that  man  is  free  by  nature,  but 
that  in  society, \i\t\\Q  State — to  which  nevertheless  he  is  irresis- 
tibly impelled — he  must  limit  this  natural  freedom.  That  man 
is  free  by  Nature  is  quite  correct  in  one  sense  ;  viz.,  that  he  is 
so  according  to  the  Idea  of  Humanity  ;  but  we  imply  thereby 
that  he  is  such  only  in  virtue  of  his  destiny — that  he  has  an 
undeveloped  power  to  become  such  ;  for  the  "  Nature"  of  an 
object  is  exactly  synonymous  with  its  "Idea."  But  the  view 
in  question  imports  more  than  this.  When  man  is  spoken 
of  as  "  free  by  Nature,"  the  mode  of  his  existence  as  well  as 
his  destiny  is  implied.  His  merely  natural  and  primary  con- 
dition is  intended.  In  this  sense  a  "  state  of  Nature"  is  as- 
sumed in  which  mankind  at  large  are  in  the  possession  of 
their  natural  rights  with  the  unconstrained  exercise  and  enjoy- 
ment of  their  freedom.  This  assumption  is  not  indeed  raised 
to  the  dignity  of  the  historical  fact ;  it  would  indeed  be  dif- 
ficult, were  the  attempt  seriously  made,  to  point  out  any  such 
condition  as  actually  existing,  or  as  having  ever  occurred. 
Examples  of  a  savage  state  of  life  can  be  pointed  out,  but 
they  are  marked  by  brutal  passions  and  deeds  of  violence  ; 
while,  however  rude  and  simple  their  conditions,  they  in- 
volve social  arrangements  which  (to  use  the  common  phrase) 
restrain  freedom.  That  assumption  is  one  of  those  nebulous 
images  which  theory  produces  ;  an  idea  which  it  cannot  avoid 
originating,  but  which  it  fathers  upon  real  existence,  without 
sufficient  historical  justification. 

What  we  find  such  a  state  of  Nature  to  be  in  actual  experi- 
ence, answers  exactly  to  the  Idea  of  a  mere  ly  natural  condition. 
Freedom  as  the  ideal  of  that  which  is  original  and  natural, 
does  not  exist  as  original  and  natural.  Rather  must  it  be 
first  sought  out  and  won  ;  and  that  by  an  incalculable  medial 
discipline  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  powers.  The  state 
of  Nature  is,  therefore,  predominantly  that  of  injustice  and 
violence,  of  untamed  natural  impulses,  of  inhuman  deeds  and 
feelings.  Limitation  is  certainly  produced  by  Society  and 
the  State,  but  it  is  a  limitation  of  the  mere  brute  emotions 
and  rude  instincts  ;  as  also,  in  a  more  advanced  stage  of  cul- 
ture, of  the  premeditated  self-will  of  caprice  and  passion. 
This  kind  ot  constraint  is  part  of  the  instrumentality  by 


PRINCIPLE    OF   THE    FAMILY.  43 

which  only,  the  consciousness  of  Freedom  and  the  desire  for 
its  attainment,  in  its  true — that  is  .Rational  and  Ideal  form — 
can  be  obtained.  To  the  Ideal  of  Freedom,  Law  and  Morality 
are  indispensably  requisite;  and  they  are  in  and  for  themselves, 
universal  existences,  objects  and  aims  ;  which  are  discovered 
only  by  the  activity  of  thought,  separating  itself  from  the  merely 
sensuous,  and  developing  itself,  in  opposition  thereto  ;  and 
which  must  on  the  other  hand,  be  introduced  into  and  incor- 
porated with  the  originally  sensuous  will,  and  that  contrarily 
to  its  natural  inclination.  The  perpetually  recurring  misap- 
prehension of  Freedom  consists  in  regarding  that  term  only  in 
its  formal,  subjective  sense,  abstracted  from  its  essential 
objects  and  aims  ;  thus  a  constraint  put  upon  impulse,  de- 
sire, passion  — pertaining  to  the  particular  individual  as  such 
--  a  limitation  of  caprice  and  self-will  is  regarded  as  a  fet- 
tering of  Freedom.  We  should  on  the  contrary  look  upon 
such  limitation  as  the  r,\ dispensable  proviso  of  emancipation. 
Society  and  the  State  are  the  very  conditions  in  which  Free- 
dom is  realized. 

We  must  notice  a  second  view,  contravening  the  princi- 
ple of  the  development  of  moral  relations  into  a  legal  form. 
The  patriarchal  condition  is  regarded— either  in  reference  to 
the  entire  race  of  man,  or  to  some  branches  of  it — as  exclu- 
sively that  condition  of  things,  in  which  the  legal  element  is 
combined  with  a  due  recognition  of  the  moral  and  emotional 
parts  of  our  nature;  and  in  which  justice  as  united  with  these, 
truly  and  really  influences  the  intercourse  of  the  social  units. 
The  basis  of  the  patriarchal  condition  is  the  family  relation  ; 
which  develops  the  primary  form  of  conscious  morality,  suc- 
ceeded by  that  of  the  State  as  its  second  phase.  The  patri- 
archal condition  is  one  of  transition,  in  which  the  family  has 
already  advanced  to  the  position  of  a  race  or  people  ;  where 
the  union,  therefore,  has  already  ceased  to  be  simply  a  bond 
of  love  and  confidence,  and  has  become  one  of  plighted  ser- 
vice. We  must  first  examine  the  ethical  principle  of  the 
Family.  The  Family  may  be  reckoned  as  virtually  a  single 
person ;  since  its  members  have  either  mutually  surrendered 
their  individual  personality,  (and  consequently  their  legal 
position  towards  each  other,  with  the  rest  of  their  particular 
interests  and  desires)  as  in  the  case  of  the  Parents ;  or  have 
not  yet  attained  suc'i  an  independent  personality,— (the 


4  INTEODUCTIOW. 

Children, — who  are  primarily  in  that  merely  natural  condition 
already  mentioned.  They  live,  therefore,  in  a  unity  of  feel- 
ing, love,  confidence,  and  faith  in  each  other.  And  in  a  rela- 
tion of  mutual  love,  the  one  individual  has  the  consciousness 
of  himself  in  the  consciousness  of  the  other ;  he  lives  out  of 
self;  and  in  this  mutual  self-renunciation  each  regains  the 
life  that  had  been  virtually  transferred  to  the  other;  gains, 
in  fact,  that  other's  existence  and  his  own,  as  involved  with 
that  other.  The  farther  interests  connected  with  the  neces- 
sities and  external  concerns  of  life,  as  well  as  the  develop- 
ment that  has  to  take  place  within  their  circle,  i.  e.  of  the 
children,  constitute  a  common  object  for  the  members  of  the 
Family.  The  Spirit  of  the  Family — the  Penates— form  one 
substantial  being,  as  much  as  the  Spirit  of  a  People  in  the 
State  ;  and  morality  in  both  cases  consists  in  a  feeling,  a 
consciousness,  and  a  will,  not  limited  to  individual  per- 
sonality and  interest,  but  embracing  the  common  interests 
of  the  members  generally.  But  this  unity  is  in  the  case  of 
the  Family  essentially  one  of 'feeling ;  not  advancing  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  merely  natural.  The  piety  of  the  Family 
relation  should  be  respected  in  the  highest  degree  by  the 
State  ;  by  its  means  the  State  obtains  as  its  members  indi- 
viduals who  are  already  moral  (for  as  mere  persons  they  are 
not)  and  who  in  uniting  to  form  a  state  bring  with  them 
that  sound  basis  of  a  political  edifice — the  capacity  of  feeling 
one  with  a  Whole.  But  the  expansion  of  the  Family  to  a 
patriarchal  unity  carries  us  beyond  the  ties  of  blood-rela- 
\tionship — the  simply  natural  elements  of  that  basis  ;  and 
outside  of  these  limits  the  members  of  the  community  must 
enter  upon  the  position  of  independent  personality.  A  re- 
view of  the  patriarchal  condition,  in  extenso,  would  lead  us 
to  give  special  attention  to  the  Theocratical  Constitution. 
The  head  of  the  patriarchal  clan  is  also  its  priest.  If  the 
Family  in  its  general  relations,  is  not  yet  separated  from 
civic  society  and  the  state,  the  separation  of  religion  from  it 
has  aLso  not  yet  taken  place ;  and  so  much  the  less  since  the 
piety  of  the  hearth  is  itself  a  profoundly  subjective  state  of 
feeling. 

"We  have  considered  two  aspects  of  Freedom, — the  objective 
and  the  subjective ;  if,  therefore,  Freedom  is  asserted  to  con- 
sist in  the  individuals  of  a  State  all  agreeing  in  its  arrange- 


FALLACIOUS   TIEWS   OF   THE    STATE.  45 

ments,  it  is  evident  that  only  the  subjective  aspect  is  regarded, 
The  natural  inference  from  this  principle  is,  that  no  law  can 
be  valid  without  the  approval  of  all.  This  difficulty  is  at- 
tempted to  be  obviated  by  the  decision  that  the  minority 
must  yield  to  the  majority  ;  the  majority  therefore  bear  the 
sway  But  long  ago  J.  J.  Rousseau  remarked,  that  in  that 
case  there  would  be  no  longer  freedom,  for  the  will  of  the 
minority  would  cease  to  be  respected.  At  the  Polish  Diet 
each  single  member  had  to  give  his  consent  before  any  politi- 
cal step  could  be  taken  ;  and  this  kind  of  freedom  it  was  that 
ruined  the  State.  Besides,  it  is  a  dangerous  and  false  preju- 
dice, that  the  People  alone  have  reason  and  insight,  and 
know  what  justice  is  ;  for  each  popular  faction  may  represent 
itself  as  the  People,  and  the  question  as  to  what  constitutes 
the  State  is  one  of  advanced  science,  and  not  of  popular 
decision. 

If  the  principle  of  regard  for  the  individual  will  is  recog- 
nized as  the  only  basis  of  political  liberty,  viz.,  that  nothing 
should  be  done  by  or  for  the  State  to  which  all  the  members 
of  the  body  politic  have  not  given  their  sanction,  we  have, 
properly  speaking,  no  Constitution.  The  only  arrangement 
that  would  be  necessary,  would  be,  first,  a  centre  having  no 
will  of  its  own,  but  which  should  take  into  consideration 
what  appeared  to  be  the  necessities  of  the  State ;  and, 
secondly,  a  contrivance  for  calling  the  members  of  the  State 
together,  for  taking  the  votes,  and  for  performing  the  arith- 
metical operations  of  reckoning  and  comparing  the  number 
of  votes  for  the  different  propositions,  and  thereby  deciding 
upon  them.  The  State  is  an  abstraction,  having  even  its 
generic  existence  in  its  citizens  ;  but  it  is  an  actuality,  and 
its  simply  generic  existence  must  embody  itself  in  individual 
will  and  activity.  The  want  of  government  and  political 
administration  in  general  is  felt ;  this  necessitates  the  selec* 
tion  and  separation  from  the  rest  of  those  who  have  to  take 
the  helm  in  political  affairs,  to  decide  concerning  them,  and 
to  give  orders  to  other  citizens,  with  a  view  to  the  execution 
of  their  plans.  If  e.g.  even  the  people  in  a  Democracy 
resolve  on  a  war,  a  general  must  head  the  army.  It  is  only  by 
a  Constitution  that  the  abstraction — the  State — attains  life 
and  reality;  but  this  involves  the  distinction  between  those 
who  command  and  those  wh-  obey. — Yet  obedience  seenii 


16  INTKODUCTIOir. 

inconsistent  with  liberty,  and  those  who  command  appear  to 
do  the  very  opposite  of  that  which  the  fundamental  idea  of 
the  State,  viz.  that  of  Freedom,  requires.  It  is,  however, 
urged  that, — though  the  distinction  between  commanding  and 
obeying  is  absolutely  necessary,  because  affairs  could  not  go 
on  without  it — and  indeed  this  seems  only  a  compulsory  limi- 
tation, external  to  and  even  contravening  freedom  in  the 
abstract  -  the  constitution  should  be  at  least  so  framed, 
that  the  citizens  may  obey  as  little  as  possible,  and  the 
smallest  modicum  of  free  volition  be  left  to  the  commands 
of  the  superiors  ; — that  the  substance  of  that  for  which 
subordination  is  necessary,  even  in  its  most  important  bear- 
ings, should  be  decided  and  resolved  on  by  the  People — by 
the  will  of  many  or  of  all  the  citizens  ;  though  it  is  supposed 
to  be  thereby  provided  that  the  State  should  be  possessed  of 
vigour  and  strength  as  a  reality — an  individual  unity. — The 
primary  consideration  is,  then,  the  distinction  between  the 
governing  and  the  governed,  and  political  constitutions  in  the 
abstract  have  been  rightly  divided  into  Monarchy,  Aristocracy, 
and  Democracy  ;  which  gives  occasion,  however,  to  the  remark 
that  Monarchy  itself  must  be  further  divided  into  Des- 
potism and  Monarchy  proper ;  that  in  all  the  divisions  to 
which  the  leading  Idea  gives  rise,  only  the  generic  character 
is  to  be  made  prominent, — it  being  not  intended  thereby  that 
the  particular  category  under  review  should  be  exhausted  as 
a  Form,  Order,  or  Kind  in  its  concrete  development.  But 
especially  it  must  be  observed,  that  the  above-mentioned  divi- 
sions admit  of  a  multitude  of  particular  modifications,  -not 
only  such  as  lie  within  the  limits  of  those  classes  themselves, 
— but  also  such  as  are  mixtures  of  several  of  these  essentially 
distinct  classes,  and  which  are  consequently  misshapen,  un- 
stable, and  inconsistent  forms.  In  such  a  collision,  the  con- 
cerning question  is,  what  is  the  best  constitution  ;  that  is,  by 
what  arrangement,  organization,  or  mechanism  of  the  power  of 
the  State  its  object  can  be  most  surely  attained.  This  object 
may  indeed  be  variously  understood  ;  for  instance,  as  the 
calm  enjoyment  of  life  on  the  part  of  the  citizens,  or  as  Uni- 
versal Happiness.  Such  aims  have  suggested  the  so-called 
Ideals  of  Constitutions,  and, — as  a  particular  branch  of  the 
subject, — Ideals  of  the  Education  of  Princes  (Feuelori),  or  of 
the  governing  body — the  aristocracy  at  large  (Plato)  ;  for  the 


CONSTITUTIONS   DEPEND   ON   NATIONAL   GENIUS.          47 

chief  point  they  treat  of  is  the  condition  of  those  subjects 
who  stand  at  the  head  of  affairs  ;  and  in  these  Ideals  the  con- 
crete details  of  political  organization  are  not  at  all  con- 
sidered. The  inquiry  into  the  best  constitution  is  frequently 
treated  as  if  not  only  the  theory  were  an  affair  of  subjective 
independent  conviction,  but  as  if  the  introduction  of  a  con- 
stitution recognized  as  the  best, — or  as  superior  to  others, 
— could  be  the  result  of  a  resolve  adopted  in  this  theoretical 
manner  ;  as  if  the  form  of  a  constitution  were  a  matter  of  free 
choice,  determined  by  nothing  else  but  reflection.  Of  this 
artless  fashion  was  that  deliberation, — not  indeed  of  the 
Persian  people,  but  of  the  Persian  grandees,  who  had  con- 
spired to  overthrow  the  pseudo-Smerdis  and  the  Magi,  after 
their  undertaking  had  succeeded,  and  when  there  was  no 
scion  of  the  royal  family  living, — as  to  what  constitution 
they  should  introduce  into  Persia ;  and  Herodotus  gives  an 
equally  naive  account  of  this  deliberation. 

In  the  present  day,  the  Constitution  of  a  country  and 
people  is  not  represented  as  so  entirely  dependent  on  free 
and  deliberate  choice.  The  fundamental  but  abstractly 
(and  therefore  imperfectly)  entertained  conception  of  Free- 
dom, has  resulted  in  the  Republic  being  very  generally  re- 
garded— in  theory — as  the  only  just  and  true  political  consti- 
tution. Many  even,  who  occupy  elevated  official  positions 
under  monarchical  constitutions — so  far  from  being  opposed 
to  this  idea — are  actually  its  supporters  ;  only  they  see  that 
such  a  constitution,  though  the  best,  cannot  be  realized 
under  all  circumstances  ;  and  that — while  men  are  what  they 
are — we  must  be  satisfied  with  less  freedom  ;  the  monarchical 
constitution  -  under  the  given  circumstances,  and  the  present 
moral  condition  of  the  people — being  even  regarded  as  the 
most  advantageous.  In  this  view  also,  the  necessity  of  a 
particular  constitution  is  made  to  depend  on  the  condition  of 
the  people  in  such  a  way  as  if  the  latter  were  non-essential 
and  accidental.  This  representation  is  founded  on  the  dis- 
tinction which  the  reflective  understanding  makes  between 
an  idea  and  the  corresponding  reality  ;  holding  to  an  abstract 
and  consequently  untrue  idea  ;  not  grasping  it  in  its  com- 
pleteness, or  —which  is  virtually,  though  not  in  point  of  form, 
the  same, — not  taking  a  concrete  view  of  a  people  and  a  state. 
We  shall  have  to  shew  further  on,  that  the  constitution 


48  INTRODUCTION. 

adopted  by  a  people  makes  one  substance — one  spirit — witli 
its  religion,  its  art  and  philosophy,  or,  at  least,  with  its  concep- 
tions and  thoughts — its  culture  generally  ;  not  to  expatiate 
upon  the  additional  influences,  ab  extra,  of  climate,  of  neigh- 
bours, of  its  place  in  the  "World.  A  State  is  an  individual 
totality,  of  which  you  cannot  select  any  particular  side, 
although  a  supremely  important  one,  such  as  its  political 
constitution  ;  and  deliberate  and  decide  respecting  it  in  that 
isolated  form.  Not  only  is  that  constitution  most  intimately 
connected  with  and  dependent  on  those  other  spiritual  forces  ; 
but  the  form  of  the  entire  moral  and  intellectual  indivi- 
duality— comprising  all  the  forces  it  embodies — is  only  a  step 
in  the  development  of  the  grand  "Whole, — with  its  place  pre- 
appointed  in  the  process  ;  a  fact  which  gives  the  highest 
sanction  to  the  constitution  in  question,  and  establishes  its 
absolute  necessity. — The  origin  of  a  state  involves  imperious 
lordship  on  the  one  hand,  instinctive  submission  on  the 
other.  But  even  obedience  -  lordly  power,  and  the  fear 
inspired  by  a  ruler — in  itself  implies  some  degree  of  voluntary 
connection.  Even  in  barbarous  states  this  is  the  case  ;  it  is 
not  the  isolated  will  of  individuals  that  prevails ;  individual 
pretensions  are  relinquished,  and  the  general  will  is  the 
essential  bond  of  political  union.  This  unity  of  the  general 
and  the  particular  is  the  Idea  itself,  manifesting  itself  as  a 
state,  and  which  subsequently  undergoes  further  development 
within  itself.  The  abstract  yet  necessitated  process  in  the 
development  of  truly  independent  states  is  as  follows : — 
They  begin  with  regal  power,  whether  of  patriarchal  or 
military  origin.  In  the  next  phase,  particularity  and  indi- 
viduality assert  themselves  in  the  form  of  Aristocracy  and 
Democracy.  Lastly,  we  have  the  subjection  of  these  separate 
interests  to  a  single  power;  but  which  can  be  absolutely 
none  other  than  one  outside  of  which  those  spheres  have  an 
independent  position,  viz.  the  Monarchical.  Two  phases 
of  royalty,  therefore,  must  be  distinguished, — a  primary 
and  a  secondary  one.  This  process  is  necessitated,  so 
that  the  form  of  government  assigned  to  a  particular  stage  of 
development  must  present  itself:  it  is  therefore  no  matter  of 
choice,  but  is  that  form  which  is  adapted  to  the  spirit  of  the 
people. 

In  a  Constitution  the  main  feature  of  interest  is  the  sell 


POLITICAL    IDIOSYNCEABT.  49 

de\elopment  of  the  rational,  that  is,  the  political  condition 
of  a  people ;  the  setting  free  of  the  successive  elements  of 
the  Idea  :  so  that  the  several  powers  in  the  State  manifest 
themselves  as  separate, — attain  their  appropriate  and  special 
perfection, — and  yet  in  this  independent  condition,  work 
together  for  one  object,  and  are  held  together  by  it— i.e. 
form  an  organic  whole.  The  State  is  thus  the  embo-. 
diment  of  rational  freedom,  realizing  and  recognizing 
itself  in  an  objective  form.  For  its  objectivity  consists  in 
this, — that  its  successive  stages  are  not  merely  ideal,  but  are 
present  in  an  appropriate  reality  ;  and  that  in  their  separate 
and  several  working,  they  are  absolutely  merged  in  that 
agency  by  which  the  totality — the  soul — the  individuate  unity 
— is  produced,  and  of  which  it  is  the  result. 

The  State  is  the  Idea  of  Spirit  in  the  external  manifesta- 
tion of  human  Will  and  its  Freedom.  It  is  to  the  State, 
therefore,  that  change  in  the  aspect  of  History  indissolubly 
attaches  itself;  and  the  successive  phases  of  the  Idea  mani- 
fest themselves  in  it  as  distinct  political  principles.  The 
Constitutions  under  which  "World-Historical  peoples  have 
reached  their  culmination,  are  peculiar  to  them  ;  and  there- 
fore do  not  present  a  generally  applicable  political  basis.  Were 
it  otherwise,  the  differences  of  similar  constitutions  would 
consist  only  in  a  peculiar  method  of  expanding  and  develop- 
ing that  generic  basis  ;  whereas  they  really  originate  in 
diversity  of  principle.  From  the  comparison  therefore  of  the 
political  institutions  of  the  ancient  World-Historical  peoples, 
it  so  happens,  that  for  the  most  recent  principle  of  a  Consti- 
tution— for  the  principle  of  our  own  times — nothing  (so  to 
speak)  can  be  learned.  In  science  and  art  it  is  quite  other- 
wise ;  e.g.,  the  ancient  philosophy  is  so  decidedly  the  basis  of 
the  modern,  that  it  is  inevitably  contained  in  the  latter,  and 
constitutes  its  basis.  In  this  case  the  relation  is  that  of  a 
continuous  development  of  the  same  structure,  whose 
foundation-stone,  walls,  and  roof  have  remained  what  they 
were.  In  Art,  the  Greek  itself,  in  its  original  form,  fur- 
nishes us  the  best  models.  But  in  regard  to  political  con« 
stitution,  it  is  quite  otherwise :  here  the  Ancient  and 
the  Modern  have  not  their  essential  principle  in  common. 
Abstract  definitions  and  dogmas  respecting  just  government, 
—importing  that  intelligence  and  virtue  ought  to  bear  sway  — 


50  INTBODUCTIOK. 

are,  indeed,  common  to  both.  But  nothing  is  so  absurd  ab  to 
look  to  Greeks,  Eomans,  or  Orientals,  for  models  for  the 
political  arrangements  of  our  time.  From  the  East  may 
be  derived  beautiful  pictures  of  a  patriarchal  condition, 
of  paternal  government,  and  of  devotion  to  it  on  the  part  of 
peoples ;  from  Greeks  and  Romans,  descriptions  of  popular 
liberty.  Among  the  latter  we  find  the  idea  of  a  Free  Consti- 
tution admitting  all  the  citizens  to  a  share  in  delibera- 
tions and  resolves  respecting  the  affairs  and  laws  of  the 
Commonwealth.  In  our  times,  too,  this  is  its  general  accep- 
tation ;  only  with  this  modification,  that — since  our  states 
are  so  large,  and  there  are  so  many  of  "the  Many,"  the  latter, 
— direct  action  being  impossible, — should  by  the  indirect 
method  of  elective  substitution  express  their  concurrence 
with  resolves  affecting  the  common  weal ;  that  is,  that  for 
legislative  purposes  generally,  the  people  should  be  repre- 
sented by  deputies.  The  so-called  Representative  Constitution 
is  that  form  of  government  with  which  we  connect  the  idea 
of  a  free  constitution  ;  and  this  notion  has  become  a  rooted 
prejudice.  On  this  theory  People  and  Government  are 
separated.  But  there  is  a  perversity  in  this  antithesis  ;  an  ill- 
intentioned  ruse  designed  to  insinuate  that  the  People  are 
the  totality  of  the  State.  Besides,  the  basis  of  this  view  is 
the  principle  of  isolated  individuality — the  absolute  validity 
of  the  subjective  will — a  dogma  which  we  have  already 
investigated.  The  great  point  is,  that  Freedom  in  its  Ideal 
conception  has  not  subjective  will  and  caprice  for  its  princi- 
ple, but  the  recognition  of  the  universal  will ;  and  that  the 
process  by  which  Freedom  is  realized  is  the  free  development 
of  its  successive  stages.  The  subjective  will  is  a  merely 
formal  determination—  a  carte  blanche — not  including  what  it 
is  that  is  willed.  Only  the  rational  will  is  that  universal 
principle  which  independently  determines  and  unfolds  its  own 
being,  and  develops  its  successive  elemental  phases  as  organic 
members.  Of  this  Gothic-cathedral  architecture  the  ancients 
knew  nothing. 

At  an  earlier  stage  of  the  discussion  we  established  the 
two  elemental  considerations :  first,  the  idea  of  freedom  a? 
the  absolute  and  final  aim  ;  secondly,  the  means  for  realizing 
it,  i.e.  the  subjective  side  of  knowledge  and  will,  with  its  life, 
movement,  and  activity.  We  then  recognized  the  State  aa  th» 


UELIGION.  51 

moral  Whole  and  the  Reality  of  Freedom,  and  consequently 
at>  the  objective  unity  of  these  two  elements.  For  although 
we  make  this  distinction  into  two  aspects  for  our  considera- 
tion, it  must  be  remarked  that  they  are  intimately  connected  ; 
and  that  their  connection  is  involved  in  the  idea  of  each 
when  examined  separately.  We  have,  on  the  one  hand, 
recognized  the  Idea  in  the  definite  form  of  Freedom  con- 
scious of  and  willing  itself, — having  itself  alone  as  its  object : 
involving  at  the  same  time,  the  pure  and  simple  Idea 
of  Reason,  and  likewise,  that  which  we  have  called  subject 
— self-consciousness — Spirit  actually  existing  in  the  World. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  consider  Subjectivity,  we  find  that 
subjective  knowledge  and  will  is  Thought.  But  by  the  very 
act  of  thoughtful  cognition  and  volition,  I  will  the  universal 
object — the  substance  of  absolute  Reason.  We  observe, 
therefore,  an  essential  union  between  the  objective  side — the 
Idea, — and  the  subjective  side— the  personality  that  conceives 
and  wills  it. — The  objective  existence  of  this  union  is  the 
State,  which  is  therefore  the  basis  and  centre  of  the  other 
concrete  elements  of  the  life  of  a  people,— of  Art,  of  Law,  of 
Morals,  of  Religion,  of  Science.  All  the  activity  of  Spirit 
has  only  this  object — the  becoming  conscious  of  this  union, 
i.  e.,  of  its  own  Freedom.  Among  the  forms  of  this  conscious 
union  Religion  occupies  the  highest  position.  In  it,  Spirit 
— rising  above  the  limitations  of  temporal  and  secular  exist- 
ence— becomes  conscious  of  the  Absolute  Spirit,  and  in  this 
consciousness  of  the  self-existent  Being,  renounces  its  indivi- 
dual interest ;  it  lays  this  aside  in  Devotion — a  state  of  mind 
in  which  it  refuses  to  occupy  itself  any  longer  with  the 
limited  and  particular.  By  Sacrifice  man  expresses  his  re- 
nunciation of  his  property,  his  will,  his  individual  feelings, 
The  religious  concentration  of  the  soul  appears  in  the  form 
of  feeling  ;  it  nevertheless  passes  also  into  reflection  ;  a  form 
of  worship  (cultus)  is  a  result  of  reflection.  The  second  form 
of  the  union  of  the  objective  and  subjective  in  the  human 
spirit  is  Art.  This  advances  farther  into  the  realm  of  the 
actual  and  sensuous  than  Religion.  In  its  noblest  walk  it  is 
occupied  with  representing,  not  indeed,  the  Spirit  of  G-od, 
but  certainly  the  Form  of  God;  and  in  its  secondary  aims,  thai 
which  is  divine  and  spiritual  generally.  Its  office  is  to  rendet 
visible  the  Divine  j  presenting  it  to  the  imaginative  K&d 


52  INTEODUCTI05T. 

intuitive  faculty.  But  the  True  is  the  object  not  only  of 
conception  and  feeling,  as  in  Religion,—  and  of  intuition,  as  in 
Art, — but  also  of  the  thinking  faculty;  and  this  gives  us  the 
third  form  of  the  union  in  question— Philosop hy.  This  is 
consequently  the  highest,  freest,  and  wisest  phase.  Of 
course  we  are  not  intending  to  investigate  these  three  phases 
here ;  they  have  only  suggested  themselves  in  virtue  of  their 
occupying  the  same  general  ground  as  the  object  here  con- 
sidered— the  State. 

The  general  principle  which  manifests  itself  and  becomes  an 
object  of  consciousness  in  the  State, — the  form  under  which 
all  that  the  State  includes  is  brought, — is  the  whole  of  that 
cycle  of  phenomena  which  constitutes  the  culture  of  a  nation* 
But  the  definite  substance  that  receives  the  form  of  univer- 
sality, and  exists  in  that  concrete  reality  which  is  the  State, — • 
is  the  Spirit  of  the  People  itself.  The  actual  State  is  animated 
by  this  spirit,  in  all  its  particular  affairs — its  Wars,  Institu- 
tions, &c.  But  man  must  also  attain  a  conscious  realization 
of  this  his  Spirit  and  essential  nature,  and  of  his  original 
identity  with  it.  For  we  said  that  morality  is  the  identity 
of  the  subjective  or  personal  with  the  universal  will.  Now  the 
mind  must  give  itself  an  express  consciousness  of  this ;  and 
the  focus  of  this  knowledge  is  Religion.  Art  and  Science 
are  only  various  aspects  and  forms  of  the  same  substantial 
being. — In  considering  Religion,  the  chief  point  of  enquiry 
is,  whether  it  recognizes  the  True — the  Idea — only  ii,  ita 
separate,  abstract  form,  or  ir  .ts  true  unity  ;  in  separation — 
God  being  represented  in  «M  abstract  form  as  the  Highest 
Being,  Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth,  living  in  a  remote  region 
far  from  human  actualities, — or  in  its  unity, — God,  as  Unity 
of  the  Universal  and  Individual ;  the  Individual  itself  assum- 
ing tlie  aspect  of  positive  and  real  existence  in  the  idea  of 
the  Incarnation.  Religion  is  the  sphere  in  which  a  nation 
gives  itself  the  definition  of  that  which  it  regards  as  the  True. 
A  definition  contains  everything  that  belongs  to  the  essence 
of  an  object ;  reducing  its  nature  to  its  simple  charac- 
teristic predicate,  as  a  mirror  for  every  predicate, — the 
generic  soul  pervading  all  its  details.  The  conception  of 
God,  therefore,  constitutes  the  general  basis  of  a  people's 
character. 

IP.  this  aspect,  religion  stands  in  the  closest  connection 


RELIGION   AND    THE    STATE.  58 

with  the  political  principle.  Freedom  can  exist  only  where 
Individuality  is  recognized  as  having  its  positive  and  real 
existence  in  the  Divine  Being.  The  connection  may  be 
further  explained  thus  : — Secular  existence,  as  merely  tempo- 
ral— occupied  with  particular  interests — is  consequently  only 
relative  and  unauthorized  ;  and  receives  its  validity  only  in  as 
far  as  the  universal  soul  that  pervades  it — its  principle — 
receives  absolute  validity  ;  which  it  cannot  have  unless  it  is 
recognized  as  the  definite  manifestation,  the  phenomenal 
existence  of  the  Divine  Essence.  On  this  account  it  is  that 
the  State  rests  on  Religion.  We  hear  this  often  repeated  in 
our  times,  though  for  the  most  part  nothing  further  is  meant 
than  that  individual  subjects  as  God-fearing  men  would  be 
more  disposed  and  ready  to  perform  their  duty;  since  obedi- 
ence to  King  and  Law  so  naturally  follows  in  the  train  of 
reverence  for  G-od.  This  reverence,  indeed,  since  it  exalts 
the  general  over  the  special,  may  even  turn  upon  the  latter, — 
become  fanatical, — and  work  with  incendiary  and  destructive 
violence  against  the  State,  its  institutions,  and  arrangements. 
Religious  feeling,  therefore,  it  is  thought,  should  be  sober, — 
kept  in  a  certain  degree  of  coolness, — that  it  may  not  storm 
against  and  bear  down  that  which  should  be  defended  and 
preserved  by  it.  The  possibility  of  such  a  catastrophe  is  at 
least  latent  in  it. 

While,  however,  the  correct  sentiment  is  adopted,  that  the 
State  is  based  on  Religion,  the  position  thus  assigned  to  Reli- 
gion supposes  the  State  already  to  exist;  and  that  subsequently, 
in  order  to  maintain  it,  Religion  must  be  brought  into  it — in 
buckets  and  bushels  as  it  were— and  impressed  upon  people's 
hearts.  It  is  quite  true  that  men  must  be  trained  to 
religion,  but  not  as  to  something  whose  existence  has  yet  to 
begin.  For  in  affirming  that  the  State  is  based  on  Religion 
—  that  it  has  its  roots  in  it — we  virtually  assert  that  the  former* 
has  proceeded  from  the  latter ;  and  that  this  derivation  is 
going  on  now  and  will  always  continue  ;  i.e.,  the  principles 
of  the  State  must  be  regarded  as  valid  in  and  for  them- 
selves, which  can  only  be  in  so  far  as  they  are  recog- 
nized as  determinate  manifestations  of  the  Divine  Nature, 
The  form  of  Religion,  therefore,  decides  that  of  the  State  and 
its  constitution.  The  latter  actually  originated  in  the  par- 
ticular religion  adopted  by  the  nation ;  so  that,  in  fact,  the 


64  UTTEODUCTJOH. 

A  thenian  or  the  Roman  State  was  possible  only  in  connec- 
tion with  the  specific  form  of  Heathenism  existing  among  the 
respective  peoples  ;  just  as  a  Catholic  State  has  a  spirit  and 
constitution  different  from  that  of  a  Protestant  one. 

If  that  outcry — that  urging  and  striving  for  the  implanta- 
tion of  Religion  in  the  community — were  an  utterance  of 
anguish  and  a  call  for  help,  as  it  often  seems  to  be,  express- 
ing the  danger  of  religion  having  vanished,  or  being  about 
to  vanish  entirely  from  the  State, — that  would  be  fearful 
indeed, — worse,  in  fact,  than  fhis  outcry  supposes ;  for  it 
implies  the  belief  in  a  resource  against  the  evil,  viz.,  the  im- 
plantation and  inculcation  of  religion  ;  whereas  religion  is  by 
no  means  a  thing  to  be  so  produced  ;  its  self-production  (and 
there  can  be  no  other)  lies  much  deeper. 

Another  and  opposite  folly  which  we  meet  with  in  our 
time,  is  that  of  pretending  to  invent  and  carry  out  political 
constitutions  independently  of  religion.  The  Catholic  con- 
fession, although  sharing  the  Christian  name  with  the  Pro- 
testant, does  not  concede  to  the  State  an  inherent  Justice  and 
Morality, — a  concession  which  in  the  Protestant  principle  is 
fundamental.  This  tearing  away  of  the  political  morality  of 
the  Constitution  from  its  natural  connection,  is  necessary  to 
the  genius  of  that  religion,  inasmuch  as  it  does  not  recognize 
Justice  and  Morality  as  independent  and  substantial.  But 
thus  excluded  from  intrinsic  worth, — torn  away  from  their  last 
refuge — the  sanctuary  of  conscience — the  calm  retreat  where 
religion  has  its  abode, — the  principles  and  institutions 
of  political  legislation  are  destitute  of  a  real  centre,  to  the 
same  degree  as  they  are  compelled  to  remain  abstract  and 
indefinite. 

Summing  up  what  has  been  said  of  the  State,  we  find  that 
we  have  been  led  to  call  its  vital  principle,  as  actuating  the 
individuals  who  compose  it, — Morality.  The  State,  its  laws, 
its  arrangements,  constitute  the  rights  of  its  members  ;  its 
natural  features,  its  mountains,  air,  and  waters,  are  their 
country,  their  fatherland,  their  outward  material  property  ; 
the  history  of  this  State,  their  deeds ;  what  their  ancestors 
have  produced,  belongs  to  them  and  lives  in  their  memory. 
All  is  their  possession,  just  as  they  are  possessed  by  it ;  for  it 
constitutes  their  existence,  their  being. 

Their  imagination  is  occupied  with  the  ideas  thus  pro- 


SriEIT    OF    A    PEOPLE.  55 

Bented,  while  the  adoption  of  these  laws,  and  of  a  fatherland  so 
conditioned  is  the  expression  of  their  will.  It  is  this  matured 
totality  which  thus  constitutes  one  Being,  the  spirit  of  one 
People.  To  it  the  individual  members  belong ;  each  unit  is 
the  Son  of  his  Nation,  and  at  the  same  time  —  in  as  far  as  the 
State  to  which  he  belongs  is  undergoing  development — the 
Son  of  his  Age.  None  remains  behind  it,  still  less  advances 
beyond  it.  This  spiritual  Being  (the  Spirit  of  his  Time)  is 
his  ;  he  is  a  representative  of  it ;  it  is  that  in  which  he  ori- 
ginated, and  in  which  he  lives.  Among  the  Athenians  the 
word  Athens  had  a  double  import ;  suggesting  primarily, 
a  complex  of  political  institutions,  but  no  less,  in  the  second 
place,  that  Goddess  who  represented  the  Spirit  of  the  People 
and  its  unity. 

This  Spirit  of  a  People  is  a  determinate  and  particular 
Spirit,  and  is,  as  just  stated,  further  modified  by  the  degree 
of  its  historical  development.  This  Spirit,  then,  constitutes 
the  basis  and  substance  of  those  other  forms  of  a  nation's 
consciousness,  which  have  been  noticed.  For  Spirit  in  its 
self-consciousness  must  become  an  object  of  contemplation 
to  itself,  and  objectivity  involves,  in  the  first  instance,  the  ris^ 
of  differences  which  make  up  a  total  of  distinct  spheres  of 
objective  spirit ;  in  the  same  way  as  the  Soul  exists  only  as 
the  complex  of  its  faculties,  which  in  their  form  of  concen- 
tration in  a  simple  unity  produce  that  Soul.  It  is  thus  One 
Individuality  which,  presented  in  its  essence  as  God,  is 
honoured  and  enjoyed  in  Religion  ;  which  is  exhibited  as  an 
object  of  sensuous  contemplation  in  Art ;  and  is  apprehended 
as  an  intellectual  conception,  in  Philosophy.  In  virtue  of 
the  original  identity  of  their  essence,  purport,  and  object, 
these  various  forms  are  inseparably  united  with  the  Spirit  of 
the  State.  Only  in  connection  with  this  particular  religion, 
can  this  particular  political  constitution  exist ;  just  as  in  such 
or  such  a  State,  such  or  such  a  Philosophy  or  order  of  Art. 

The  remark  next  in  order  is,  that  each  particular  National 
genius  is  to  be  treated  as  only  One  Individual  in  the  process 
of  Universal  History.  For  that  history  is  the  exhibition  of  the 
divine,  absolute  development  of  Spirit  in  its  highest  forms, — 
that  gradation  by  which  it  attains  its  truth  and  consciousness 
of  itself.  The  forms  which  these  grades  of  progress  assume  are 
the  characteristic  "National  Spirits'*  of  History ;  the  peculiar 


56  INTHODUCTIOW. 

tenor  of  their  moral  life,  of  their  Government,  their  Art,, 
Beligion,  and  Science.  To  realize  these  grades  is  the  bound- 
less impulse  of  the  "World-Spirit — the  goal  of  its  irresistible 
urging;  for  this  division  into  organic  members,  and  the  full 
development  of  each,  is  its  Idea. — Universal  History  is  exclu- 
sively occupied  with  shewing  how  Spirit  comes  to  a  recogni- 
tion and  adoption  of  the  Truth :  the  dawn  of  knowledgje 
appears ;  it  begins  to  discover  salient  principles,  and  at  last  it 
arrives  at  full  consciousness. 

Having,  therefore,  learned  the  abstract  characteristics  of 
the  nature  of  Spirit,  the  means  which  it  uses  to  realize  its 
Idea,  and  the  shape  assumed  by  it  in  its  complete  realization  in 
phenomenal  existence — namely,  the  State — nothing  further 
remains  for  this  introductory  section  to  contemplate  but 

III.  The  course  of  the  Worlds  History.  The  mutations 
which  history  presents  have  been  long  characterized  in  the 
general,  as  an  advance  to  something  better,  more  perfect.  The 
changes  that  take  place  in  Nature — how  infinitely  manifold 
soever  they  may  be — exhibit  only  a  perpetually  self-repeating 
cycle ;  in  Nature  there  happens  "  nothing  new  under  the 
sun,"  and  the  multiform  play  of  its  phenomena  so  far  induces 
a  feeling  of  ennui  ;  only  in  those  changes  which  take  place 
in  the  region  of  Spirit  does  anything  new  arise.  This  pecu- 
liarity in  the  world  of  mind  has  indicated  in  the  case  of  man 
an  altogether  different  destiny  from  that  of  merely  natural 
objects — in  which  we  find  always  one  and  the  same  stable 
character,  to  which  all  change  reverts ; — namely,  a  real  capa- 
city for  change,  and  that  for  the  better, — an  impulse  of  per- 
fectibility. This  principle,  which  reduces  change  itself  under 
a  law,  has  met  with  an  unfavourable  reception  from  religions 
— such  as  the  Catholic — and  from  States  claiming  as  their  just 
right  a  stereotyped,  or  at  least  a  stable  position.  If  the  muta- 
bility of  worldly  things  in  general — political  constitutions,  for 
instance — is  conceded,  either  Beligion  (as  the  Keligion  of 
Truth)  is  absolutely  excepted,  or  the  difficulty  escaped  by  as- 
cribing changes,  revolutions,  and  abrogations  of  immaculate 
theories  and  institutions,  to  accidents  or  imprudence, — but 
principally  to  the  levity  and  evil  passions  of  man.  The  prin- 
ciple of  Perfectibility  indeed  is  almost  as  indefinite  a  term  as 
mutability  in  general ;  it  is  without  scope  or  goal,  and  haa 
no  standard  by  which  to  estimate  the  changes  in  question: 


tfATUBAL   AND   8PIEITUAL  DEYELOPMENT.  5? 

the  improved,  more  perfect,  state  of  things  towards  which  it 
professedly  tends  is  altogether  undetermined. 

The  principle  of  Development  involves  also  the  existence  of 
a  latent  germ  of  being — a  capacity  or  potentiality  striving  to 
realise  itself.  This  formal  conception  finds  actual  existence 
in  Spirit ;  which  has  the  History  of  the  World  for  its  theatre, 
its  possession,  and  the  sphere  of  its  realization.  It  is  not 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  be  tossed  to  and  fro  amid  the  superfi- 
cial play  of  accidents,  but  is  rather  the  absolute  arbiter  of 
things ;  entirely  unmoved  by  contingencies,  which,  indeed, 
it  applies  and  manages  for  its  own  purposes.  Development, 
however,  is  also  a  property  of  organized  natural  objects. 
Their  existence  presents  itself,  not  as  an  exclusively  dependent 
tme,  subjected  to  external  changes,  but  as  one  which  expands 
itself  in  virtue  of  an  internal  unchangeable  principle ;  a 
simple  essence, — whose  existence,  i.  e.,  as  a  germ,  is  primarily 
simple, — but  which  subsequently  develops  a  variety  of  parts, 
that  become  involved  with  other  objects,  and  consequently 
live  through  a  continuous  process  of  changes ; — a  proces's 
nevertheless,  that  results  in  the  very  contrary  of  change,  and 
is  even  transformed  into  a  vis  comervatrix  of  the  organic 
principle,  and  the  form  embodying  it.  Thus  the  organized 
individuum  produces  itself  ;  it  expands  itself  actually  to  wh:it 
it  was  always  potentially. — So  Spirit  is  only  that  which  it 
attains  by  its  own  efforts  ;  it  makes  itself  actually  what  it 
always  was  potentially. — That  development  (of  natural  organ- 
isms) takes  place  in  a  direct,  unopposed,  unhindered  manner. 
Between  the  Idea  and  its  realization— the  essential  constitu- 
tion of  the  original  germ  and  the  conformity  to  it  of  the 
existence  derived  from  it— no  disturbing  influence  can  intrude. 
But  in  relation  to  Spirit  it  is  quite  otherwise.  The  realiza- 
tion of  its  Idea  is  mediated  by  consciousness  and  will ;  these 
very  faculties  are,  in  the  first  instance,  sunk  in  their  pri- 
mary merely  natural  life ;  the  first  object  and  goal  of  their 
striving  is  the  realization  of  their  merely  natural  destiny, — 
but  which,  since  it  is  Spirit  that  animates  it,  is  possessed  of 
vast  attractions  and  displays  great  power  and  [moral]  rich- 
ness. Thus  Spirit  is  at  war  with  itself ;  it  has  to  overcome 
itself  as  its  most  formidable  obstacle.  That  development 
which  in  the  sphere  of  Nature  is  a  peaceful  growth,  is  in  that 
of  Spirit,  a  severe,  a  mighty  conflict  with  itself.  What  Spirit 


58  INTllODUCTIOIf, 

really  strives  for  is  the  realization  of  its  Ideal  being ;  but  in 
doing  so,  it  hides  that  goal  from  its  own  vision,  and  is  proud 
and  well  satisfied  in  this  alienation  from  it. 

Its  expansion,  therefore,  does  not  present  the  harmless 
tranquillity  of  mere  growth,  as  does  that  of  organic  life,  but 
a  stern  reluctant  working  against  itself.  It  exhibits,  more- 
over, not  the  mere  formal  conception  of  development,  but 
the  attainment  of  a  definite  result.  The  goal  of  attainment 
we  determined  at  the  outset :  it  is  Spirit  in  its  completeness, 
in  its  essential  nature,  i.e.,  Freedom.  This  is  the  fundamen- 
tal object,  and  therefore  also  the  leading  principle  of  the  deve- 
lopment,— that  whereby  it  receives  mefiuing  and  importance 
(as  in  the  Roman  history,  Rome  is  the  object — consequently 
that  which  directs  our  consideration  of  the  facts  related)  ;  as, 
conversely,  the  phenomena  of  the  process  have  resulted  from 
this  principle  alone,  and  only  as  referred  to  it,  possess  a  sense 
and  value.  There  are  many  considerable  periods  in  History 
in  which  this  development  seems  to  have  been  intermitted  ;  in 
which,  we  might  rather  say,  the  whole  enormous  gain  of  pre- 
vious culture  appears  to  have  been  entirely  lost ;  after  which, 
unhappily,  a  new  commencement  has  been  necessary,  made 
in  the  hope  of  recovering — by  the  assistance  of  some  remains 
saved  from  the  wreck  of  a  former  civilization,  and  by  dint  of 
a  renewed  incalculable  expenditure  of  strength  and  time, — 
one  of  the  regions  which  had  been  an  ancient  possession  of 
that  civilization.  "We  behold  also  continued  processes  of 
growth;  structures  and  systems  of  culture  in  particular 
spheres,  rich  in  kind,  and  well  developed  in  every  direction. 
The  merely  formal  and  indeterminate  view  of  development 
in  general  can  neither  assign  to  one  form  of  expansion  supe- 
riority over  the  other,  nor  render  comprehensible  the  object 
of  that  decay  of  older  periods  of  growth ;  but  must  regard 
such  occurrences, — or,  to  speak  more  particularly,  the  retro- 
cessions they  exhibit, — as  external  contingencies ;  and  can 
only  judge  of  particular  modes  of  development  from  indeter- 
minate points  of  view;  which — since  the  development  as  such, 
is  all  in  all — are  relative  and  not  absolute  goals  of  attainment. 

Universal  History  exhibits  the  gradation  in  the  develop- 
ment of  that  principle  whose  substantial  purport  is  the 
consciousness  of  Freedom.  The  analysis  of  the  successive 
grades,  in  their  abstract  form,  belongs  to  Logic ;  in  their  con- 


DEVELOPMENT    OF    SPIEIT.  5i) 

Crete  aspect  to  t  le  Philosophy  of  Spirit.  Here  it  is  sufficient 
to  state  that  the  first  step  in  the  process  presents  that  im- 
mersion of  Spirit  in  Nature  which  has  been  already  referred 
to ;  the  second  shows  it  as  advancing  to  the  consciousness  of 
its  freedom.  But  this  initial  separation  from  IS  ature  is  imper- 
fect and  partial,  since  it  is  derived  immediately  from  the 
merely  natural  state,  is  consequently  related  to  it,  and  is  still 
encumbered  with  it  as  an  essentially  connected  element. 
The  third  step  is  the  elevation  of  the  soul  from  this  still 
limited  and  special  form  of  freedom  to  its  pure  universal 
form  ;  that  state  in  which  the  spiritual  essence  attains  the 
consciousness  and  feeling  of  itself.  These  grades  are  the 
ground-principles  of  the  general  process ;  but  how  each  of 
them  on  the  other  hand  involves  within  itself  a  process  of 
formation, — constituting  the  links  in  a  dialectic  of  transition, 
— to  particularise  this  must  be  reserved  for  the  sequel. 

Here  we  have  only  to  indicate  that  Spirit  begins  with  a 
germ  of  infinite  possibility,  but  only  possibility, — containing 
its  substantial  existence  in  an  undeveloped  form,  as  the 
object  and  goal  which  it  reaches  only  in  its  resultant — full 
reality.  In  actual  existence  Progress  appears  as  an  advanc- 
ing from  the  imperfect  to  the  more  perfect ;  but  the  former 
must  not  be  understood  abstractly  as  only  the  imperfect,  but 
as  something  which  involves  the  very  opposite  of  itself — the 
so-called  perfect — as  a  germ  or  impulse.  So — reflectively,  at 
least — possibility  points  to  something  destined  to  become 
actual ;  the  Aristotelian  duvape  is  also  potentia,  power  and 
might.  Thus  the  Imperfect,  as  involving  its  opposite,  is  a 
contradiction,  which  certainly  exists,  but  which  is  continually 
annulled  and  solved ;  the  instinctiv<  movement  —  the  inherent 
impulse  in  the  life  of  the  soul — to  break  through  the  rind  of 
mere  nature,  sensuousness,  and  that  which  is  alien  to  it,  and 
to  attain  to  the  light  of  consciousness,  i.  e.  to  itself. 

We  have  already  made  the  remark  how  the  commencement 
of  the  history  of  Spirit  must  be  conceived  so  as  to  be  in  har- 
mony with  its  Idea — in  its  bearing  on  the  representations  that 
have  been  made  of  a  primitive  "  natural  condition,"  in  which 
freedom  and  justice  are  supposed  to  exist,  or  to  have;  existed. 
This  was,  however,  nothing  more  than  an  assumption  of  his- 
torical existence,  conceived  in  the  twilight  of  theorising 
reflection.  A  pretension  of  quite  another  order,—  not  a  mere 


60 

inference  of  reasoning,  but  making  the  claim  of  historical 
fact,  and  that  supernaturally  confirmed, — is  put  forth  in 
connection  with  a  different  view  that  is  now  widely  pro- 
mulgated by  a  certain  class  of  speculatists.  This  view  takes 
up  the  idea  of  the  primitive  paradisiacal  condition  of  man, 
which  had  been  previously  expanded  by  the  Theologians, 
after  their  fashion, — involving,  e.  g.,  the  supposition  that  God 
spoke  with  Adam  in  Hebrew, — but  re-modelled  to  suit  other 
requirements.  The  high  authority  appealed  to  in  the  first 
instance  is  the  biblical  narrative.  But  this  depicts  the  pri- 
mitive condition,  partly  only  in  the  few  well-known  traits, 
but  partly  either  as  in  man  generically, — human  nature  at 
large, — or,  so  far  as  Adam  is  to  be  taken  as  an  individual,  and 
consequently  one  person, — as  existing  and  completed  in  this 
one,  or  only  in  one  human  pair.  The  biblical  account  by  no 
means  justifies  us  in  imagining  a  people,a,ud  an  historical  con- 
dition of  such  people,  existing  in  that  primitive  form  ;  still 
less  does  it  warrant  us  in  attributing  to  them  the  possession 
of  a  perfectly  developed  knowledge  of  God  and  Nature. 
"  Nature,"  so  the  fiction  runs,  "  like  a  clear  mirror  of  God's 
creation,  had  originally  lain  revealed  and  transparent  to  the 
unclouded  eye  of  man."*  Divine  Truth  is  imagined 
to  have  been  equally  manifest.  It  is  even  hinted,  though 
left  in  some  degree  of  obscurity,  that  in  this  primary  condi- 
tion men  were  in  possession  of  an  indefinitely  extended  and 
ftlready  expanded  body  of  religious  truths  immediately 
revealed  by  God.  This  theory  affirms  that  all  religions  had 
their  historical  commencement  in  this  primitive  knowledge, 
and  that  they  polluted  and  obscured  the  original  Truth  by 
the  monstrous  creations  of  error  and  depravity  ;  though  in 
all  the  mythologies  invented  by  Error,  traces  of  that  origin 
mid  of  thosa  primitive  true  dogmas  are  supposed  to  be  pre- 
sent and  cognizable.  An  important  interest,  therefore, 
accrues  to  the  investigation  of  the  history  of  ancient  peoples, 
that,  viz.,  of  the  endeavour  to  trace  their  annals  up  to  the 
point  where  such  fragments  of  the  primary  revelation  are  to 
be  met  with  in  greater  purity  than  lower  down.t 

*  Fr.  von  Schlegel,  "  Philosophy  of  History,"  p.  91,  Bohn's  Standard 
Library. 

f  We  have  to  thank  this  interest  for  many  valuable  discoveries  in' 
Oriental  literature,  and  for  a  rei  ewed  study  of  treasuies  previously 
known,  in  the  department  of  ancient  Asiatic  Culture,  Mythology,  Keli- 


61 

"We  owe  to  the  interest  which  has  occasioned  these  inves- 
tigations, very  much  that  is  valuable ;  but  this  investigation 
bears  direct  testimony  against  itself,  for  it  would  seem  to  be 
awaiting  the  issue  of  an  historical  demonstration  of  that 
which  is  presupposed  by  it  as  historically  established.  That 
advanced  condition  of  the  knowledge  oi  God,  and  of  other 
scientific,  e.  g.  astronomical  knowledge  (such  as  has  been 
falsely  attributed  to  the  Hindoos) ;  and  the  assertion  that 
such  a  condition  occurred  at  the  very  beginning  of  History, 
— or  that  the  religions  of  various  nations  were  traditionally 
derived  from  it,  and  have  developed  themselves  in  degene- 
racy and  depravation  (as  is  represented  in  the  rudely- 
conceived  so-called  "  Emanation  System,")  ;— all  these  are 
suppositions  which  neither  have,  nor, — if  we  may  contrast 
with  their  arbitrary  subjective  origin,  the  true  conception  of 
History, — can  attain  historical  confirmation. 

The  only  consistent  and  worthy  method  which  philoso- 
phical investigation  can  adopt,  is  to  take  up  History  where 

gions,  and  History.  In  Catholic  countries,  where  a  refined  literary  taste 
prevails,  Governments  have  yielded  to  the  requirements  of  speculative 
inquiry,  and  have  felt  the  necessity  of  allying  themselves  with  learning 
and  philosophy.  Eloquently  and  impressively  has  the  Abbe  Lamennaia 
reckoned  it  among  the  criteria  of  the  true  religion,  that  it  must  be  the  uni- 
versal— that  is,  catholic — and  the  oldest  in  date;  and  the  Congregation 
has  laboured  zealously  and  diligently  in  France  towards  rendering  such 
assertions  no  longer  mere  pulpit  tirades  and  authoritative  dicta,  such  as 
were  deemed  sufficient  formerly.  The  religion  of  Buddha— a  god-man — 
which  has  prevailed  to  such  an  enormous  extent,  has  especially  attracted 
attention.  The  Indian  Timurtis,  as  also  the  Chinese  abstraction  of  the 
Trinity,  has  furnished  clearer  evidence  in  point  of  subject  matter.  The 
savans,  M.  Abel  Kemusat  and  M.  Saint  Martin,  on  the  one  hand,  have 
undertaken  the  most  meritorious  investigations  in  the  Chinese  literature, 
with  a  view  to  make  this  also  a  base  of  operations  for  researches  in  the 
Mongolian  and,  if  such  were  possible,  in  the  Thibetian;  on  the  other 
hand,  Baron  von  Eckstein,  in  his  way  (i.  e.,  adopting  from  Germany 
superficial  physical  conceptions  and  mannerisms,  in  the  style  of  Fr.  v. 
Schlegel,  though  with  more  geniality  than  the  latter)  in  his  periodical, 
"Le  Catholique,"— has  furthered  the  cause  of  that  primitive  Catholicism 
generally,  and  in  particular  has  gained  for  the  savans  of  the  Congrega- 
tion the  support  of  the  Government ;  so  that  it  has  even  set  on  foot  expe- 
ditions to  the  East,  in  order  to  discover  there  treasures  still  concealed; 
(from  which  further  disclosures  have  been  anticipated,  respecting  pro- 
found theological  questions,  particularly  on  the  higher  antiquity  and 
sources  of  Buddhism),  and  with  a  view  to  promote  the  interests  of  Catk«>- 
iicisiu  by  this  circuitous  but  scientifically  interesting  method. 


62  INTRODUCTION. 

Rationality  begins  to  manifest  itself  in  the  attual  conduct  of 
the  World's  affairs  (not  where  it  is  merely  an  undeveloped 
potentiality), — where  a  condition  of  things  is  present  in  which 
it  realizes  itself  in  consciousness,  will  and  action.  The  in 
organic  existence  of  Spirit — that  of  abstract  Freedom — uncon- 
scious torpidity  in  respect  to  good  and  evil  (and  consequently 
to  laws ),  or,  if  we  please  to  term  it  so,  "  blessed  ignorance," — 
is  itself  not  a  subject  of  History.  Natural,  and  at  the  same 
time  religious  morality,  is  the  piety  of  the  family.  In  this 
social  relation,  morality  consists  in  the  members  behaving 
towards  each  other  not  as  individuals— possessing  an  inde- 
pendent will ;  not  as  persons.  The  Family  therefore,  is 
excluded  from  that  process  of  development  in  which  History 
takes  its  rise.  But  when  this  self-involved  spiritual  Unity 
steps  beyond  this  circle  of  feeling  and  natural  love,  and 
first  attains  the  consciousness  of  personality,  we  have  that 
dark,  dull  centre  of  indifference,  in  which  neither  Nature 
nor  Spirit  is  open  and  transparent ;  and  for  which  Nature 
and  Spirit  can  become  open  and  transparent  only  by  means 
of  a  further  process, — a  very  lengthened  culture  of  that  Will 
at  length  become  self-conscious.  Consciousness  alone  is 
clearness  ;  and  is  that  alone  for  which  God  (or  any  other 
existence)  can  be  revealed.  In  its  true  form, — in  absolute 
universality — nothing  can  be  manifested  except  to  conscious- 
ness made  percipient  of  it.  Freedom  is  nothing  but  the 
recognition  and  adoption  of  such  universal  substantial  .objects 
as  Bight  and  Law,  and  the  production  of  a  reality  that  is 
accordant  with  them — the  State.  Nations  may  have  passed  a 
long  life  before  arriving  at  this  their  destination,  and  during 
this  period,  they  may  have  attained  considerable  culture 
in  some  directions.  This  ante-historical  period — consis- 
tently with  what  has  been  said  —  lies  out  of  our  plan  ; 
whether  a  real  history  followed  it,  or  the  peoples  in  question 
never  attained  a  political  constitution. — It  is  a  great  dis- 
covery in  history — as  of  a  new  world — which  has  been  made 
within  rather  more  than  the  last  twenty  years,  respecting  the 
Sanscrit  and  the  connection  of  the  European  languages  with 
it.  In  particular,  the  connection  of  the  German  and  Indian 
peoples  has  been  demonstrated,  with  as  much  certainty  as 
such  subjects  allow  of.  Even  at  the  present  time  we  know 
of  peoples  which  scarcely  form  a  society,  much  teas  a  State, 


CONDITIONS  ESSENTIAL    TO    HISTOBT.  63 

but  that  have  been  long  known  as  existing ;  while  with 
regard  to  others,  which  in  their  advanced  condition  excite 
our  especial  interest,  tradition  reaches  beyond  the  record  of 
the  founding  of  the  State,  and  they  experienced  many 
changes  prior  to  that  epoch.  In  the  connection  just  re- 
ferred to,  between  the  languages  of  nations  so  widely  sepa- 
rated, we  have  a  result  before  us,  which  proves  the  diffusion 
of  those  nations  from  Asia  as  a  centre,  and  the  so  dissimilar 
development  of  what  had  been  originally  related,  as  an  in- 
contestable fact;  not  as  an  inference  deduced  by  that  favourite 
method  of  combining,  and  reasoning  from,  circumstances 
grave  and  trivial,  which  has  already  enriched  and  will  con- 
tinue to  enrich  history  with  so  many  fictions  given  out  as 
facts.  But  that  apparently  so  extensive  range  of  events 
lies  beyond  the  pale  of  history  ;  in  fact  preceded  it. 

In  our  language  the  term  History*  unites  the  objective 
\*ith  the  subjective  side,  and  denotes  quite  as  much  the 
historia  rerum  gestarum,  as  the  res  gestce  themselves  ;  on 
the  other  hand  it  comprehends  not  less  what  has  happened, 
than  the  narration  of  what  has  happened.  This  union  of 
the  two  meanings  we  must  regard  as  of  a  higher  order  than 
mere  outward  accident ;  we  must  suppose  historical  narra- 
tions to  have  appeared  contemporaneously  with  historical 
deeds  and  events.  It  is  an  internal  vital  principle  common 
to  both  that  produces  them  synchronously.  Family  me- 
morials, patriarchal  traditions,  have  an  interest  confined  to 
the  family  and  the  clan.  The  uniform  course  of  events  which 
such  a  condition  implies,  is  no  subject  of  serious  remem- 
brance ;  though  distinct  transactions  or  turns  of  fortune,  may 
rouse  Mnemosyne  to  form  conceptions  of  them, — in  the  same 
way  as  love  and  the  religious  emotions  provoke  imagination 
to  give  shape  to  a  previously  formless  impulse.  But  it  is 
the  State  which  first  presents  subject-matter  that  is  not 
only  adapted  to  the  prose  of  History,  but  involves  the  pro- 
duction of  such  history  in  the  very  progress  of  its  own  being. 
Instead  of  merely  subjective  mandates  on  the  part  of  govern- 
ment,— sufficing  for  the  needs  of  the  moment, — a  community 
that  is  acquiring  a  stable  existence,  and  exalting  itself  into 
a  State,  requires  formal  commands  and  laws — comprehensive 

*  German,  "  Geschichte  '  from  "  Gsschehen,"  to  happen.     Tr. 


04  INTRODUCTION, 

and  universally  binding  prescriptions  ;  and  thus  produces  a 
record  as  well  as  an  interest  concerned  with  intelligent,  de- 
finite— and,  in  their  results — lasting  transactions  and  occur- 
rences ;  on  which  Mnemosyne,  for  the  behoof  of  the  perennial 
object  of  the  formation  and  constitution  of  the  State,  is 
impelled  to  confer  perpetuity.  Profound  sentiments  gene- 
rally, such  as  that  of  love,  as  also  religious  intuition  and  its 
conceptions,  are  in  themselves  complete,  —  constantly  present 
and  satisfying ;  but  that  outward  existence  of  a  political 
constitution  which  is  enshrined  in  its  rational  laws  and 
customs,  is  an  imperfect  Present;  and  cannot  be  thoroughly 
understood  without  a  knowledge  of  the  past. 

The  periods — whether  we  suppose  them  to  be  centuries  of 
millennia — that  were  passed  by  nations  before  history  was 
written  among  them, — and  which  may  have  been  filled  with 
revolutions,  nomadic  wanderings,  and  the  strangest  muta- 
tions,— are  on  that  very  account  destitute  of  objective  history. 
because  they  present  no  subjective  history,  no  annals.  We 
need  not  suppose  that  the  records  of  such  periods  have 
accidentally  perished  ;  rather,  because  they  were  not  possible, 
do  we  find  them  wanting.  Only  in  a  State  cognizant  of 
Laws,  can  distinct  transactions  take  place,  accompanied  by 
euch  a  clear  consciousness  of  them  as  supplies  the  ability  and 
suggests  the  necessity  of  an  enduring  record.  It  strikes 
every  one,  in  beginning  to  form  an  acquaintance  with  the 
treasures  of  Indian  literature,  that  a  land  so  rich  in  intellec- 
tual products,  and  those  of  the  profoundest  order  of  thought, 
has  no  History  ;  and  in  this  respect  contrasts  most  strongly 
with  China — an  empire  possessing  one  so  remarkable,  one 
going  back  to  the  most  ancient  times.  India  has  not  only 
ancient  books  relating  to  religion,  and  splendid  poetical  pro- 
ductions, but  also  ancient  codes  ;  the  existence  of  which  latter 
kind  of  literature  has  been  mentioned  as  a  condition  neces- 
sary to  the  origination  of  History— and  yet  History  itself  is 
not  found.  But  in  that  country  the  impulse  of  organization, 
in  beginning  to  develop  social  distinctions,  was  immediately 
petrified  in  the  merely  natural  classification  according  to 
castes;  so  that  although  the  laws  concern  themselves  with 
civil  rights,  they  make  even  these  dependent  on  natural 
distinctions  ;  and  are  especially  occupied  with  determining 
the  relations  (Wrongs  rather  than  Eights)  of  those  classes 


AHTE- HISTORICAL  PERIOD.  65 

towards  each  other,  i.e.  the  privileges  of  the  higher  over  the 
lower.  Consequently,  the  element  of  morality  is  banished 
from  the  pomp  of  Indian  life  and  from  its  political  institu- 
tions. Where  that  iron  bondage  of  distinctions  derived 
from  nature  prevails,  the  connection  of  society  is  nothing 
but  wild  arbitrariness, — transient  activity, — or  rather  the 
play  of  violent  emotion  without  any  goal  of  advancement  or 
development.  Therefore  no  intelligent  reminiscence,  no  object 
for  Mnemosyne  presents  itself ;  and  imagination — confused 
though  profound — expatiates  in  a  region,  which,  to  be  capable 
of  History,  must  have  had  an  aim  within  the  domain  of 
Reality,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  substantial  Freedom. 

Since  such  are  the  conditions  indispensable  to  a  history, 
it  has  happened  that  the  growth  of  Families  to  Clans,  of 
Clans  to  Peoples,  and  their  local  diffusion  consequent  upon 
this  numerical  increase, — a  series  of  facts  which  itself  sug- 
gests so  many  instances  of  social  complication,  war,  revolu- 
tion, and  ruin, — a  process  which  is  so  rich  in  interest,  and  so 
comprehensive  in  extent, — has  occurred  without  giving  rise 
to  History  :  moreover,  that  the  extension  and  organic  growth 
of  the  empire  of  articulate  sounds  has  itself  remained  voice- 
less and  dumb,  — a  stealthy,  unnoticed  advance.  It  is  a  fact 
revealed  by  philological  monuments,  that  languages,  during 
a  rude  condition  of  the  nations  that  have  spoken  them,  have 
been  very  highly  developed ;  that  the  human  understanding 
occupied  this  theoretical  region  with  great  ingenuity  and 
completeness,  For  Grammar,  in  its  extended  and  consistent 
form,  is  the  work  of  thought,  which  makes  its  categories 
distinctly  visible  therein.  It  is,  moreover,  a  fact,  that  with 
advancing  social  and  political  civilization,  this  systematic 
completeness  of  intelligence  suffers  attrition,  and  language 
thereupon  becomes  poorer  and  ruder  :  a  singular  pheno-, 
menon — that  the  progress  towards  a  more  highly  intellectual 
condition,  while  expanding  and  cultivating  rationality,  should 
disregard  that  intelligent  amplitude  and  expressiveness — 
should  find  it  an  obstruction  and  contrive  to  do  without  it. 
Speech  is  the  act  of  theoretic  intelligence  in  a  special  sense ; 
it  is  its  external  manifestation.  Exercises  of  memory  and 
imagination  without  language,  are  direct,  [non-speculative] 
manifestations.  But  this  act  of  theoretic  intelligence  itself,  as 
also  its  subsequent  development,  and  the  more  concrete 


66  INTEODUCT10N. 

class  of  facts  connected  with  it, — viz.  the  spreading  of  peoplei 
over  the  earth,  their  separation  from  each  other,  their  com- 
niingliugs  and  wanderings — remain  involved  in  the  obscurity 
of  a  voiceless  past.  They  are  not  acts  of  Will  becoming 
self-conscious — of  Freedom,  mirroring  itself  in  a  phenomenal 
form,  and  creating  for  itself  a  proper  reality.  Not  partak- 
ing of  this  element  of  substantial,  veritable  existence, 
those  nations — notwithstanding  the  development  of  lan- 
guage among  them — never  advanced  to  the  possession  of 
a  history.  The  rapid  growth  of  language,  and  the  progress 
and  dispersion  of  Nations,  assume  importance  and  interest 
for  concrete  Reason,  only  when  they  have  come  in  contact 
with  States,  or  begin  to  form  political  constitutions  them- 
selves. 

After  these  remarks,  relating  to  the  form  of  the  commence- 
ment of  the  World's  History,  and  to  that  ante-historical 
period  which  must  be  excluded  from  it,  we  have  to  state  the 
direction  of  its  course :  though  here  only  formally.  The 
further  definition  of  the  subject  in  the  concrete,  cornea 
u.^der  the  head  of  arrangement. 

Universal  history — as  already  demonstrated — shews  the  de- 
velopment of  the  consciousness  of  Freedom  on  the  part  of 
Spirit,  and  of  the  consequent  realization  of  that  Freedom. 
This  development  implies  a  gradation — a  series  of  increasingly 
adequate  expressions  or  manifestations  of  Freedom,  which 
result  from  its  Idea.  The  logical,  and — as  still  more  promi- 
nent—the dialectical  nature  of  the  Idea  in  general,  viz.  that 
it  is  self-determined — that  it  assumes  successive  forms  which 
it  successively  transcends;  and  by  this  very  process  of 
transcending  its  earlier  stages,  gains  an  affirmative,  and,  in 
fact,  a  richer  and  inor^  concrete  shape ; — this  necessity  of  its 
nature,  and  the  necessary  series  of  pure  abstract  forms  which 
the  Idea  successively  assumes — is  exhibited  in  the  department 
of  Logic.  Here  we  need  adopt  only  one  of  its  results,  viz. 
that  every  step  in  the  process,  as  differing  from  any  other, 
has  its  determinate  peculiar  principle.  In  history  this  prin- 
ciple is  idiosyncrasy  of  Spirit—  peculiar  National  Genius.  It 
is  within  the  limitations  of  this  idiosyncrasy  that  the  spirit  of 
the  nation,  concretely  manifested,  expresses  every  aspect  of 
its  consciousness  and  will— the  whole  cycle  of  its  realization. 
Its  religion,  its  polity,  its  ethics,  its  legislation,  and  even  itr 


OBJECTIONS   BROUGHT   BY    EMPIRICISM.  67 

science,  art,  and  mechanical  skill,  all  bear  its  stamp.  These 
special  peculiarities  find  their  key  in  that  common  peculiarity, 
— the  particular  principle  that  characterises  a  people  ;  as,  on 
the  other  hand,  in  the  facts  which  History  presents  in  detail, 
that  common  characteristic  principle  may  be  detected.  That 
such  or  such  a  specific  quality  constitutes  the  peculiar  genius 
of  a  people,  is  the  element  of  our  inquiry  which  must  be  de- 
rived from  experience,  and  historically  proved.  To  accomplish 
this,pre-supposes  not  only  a  disciplined  faculty  of  abstraction, 
but  an  iutimnte  acquaintance  with  the  Idea,  The  investigator 
must  be  familiar  a  priori  (if  we  like  to  call  it  so),  with  the 
whole  circle  of  conceptions  to  which  the  principles  in  ques- 
tion belong — just  as  Keppler  (to  name  the  most  illustrious 
example  in  this  mode  of  philosophizing)  must  have  been 
familiar  ii  priori  with  ellipses,  with  cubes  and  squares,  and 
with  ideas  of  their  relations,  before  he  could  discover,  from 
the  empirical  data,  those  immortal  "  Laws  "  of  his,  which 
are  none  other  than  forms  of  thought  pertaining  to  those 
classes  of  conceptions.  He  who  is  unfamiliar  with  the 
science  that  embraces  these  abstract  elementary  concep- 
tions, is  as  little  capable — though  he  may  have  gazed  on  the 
firmament  and  the  motions  of  the  celestial  bodies  for  a  life- 
time— of  understanding  those  Laws,  as  of  discovering  them. 
From  this  want  of  acquaintance  with  the  ideas  that  relate 
to  the  development  of  Freedom,  proceed  a  part  of  those 
objections  which  are  brought  against  the  philosophical 
consideration  of  a  science  usually  regarded  as  one  of  mere 
experience ;  the  so-called  a  priori  method,  and  the  attempt 
to  insinuate  ideas  into  the  empirical  data  of  history,  being 
the  chief  points  in  the  indictment.  Where  this  deficiency 
exists,  such  conceptions  appear  alien — not  lying  within  the 
object  of  investigation.  To  minds  whose  training  has  been 
narrow  and  merely  subjective, — which  have  not  an  acquaint- 
ance and  familiarity  with  ideas, — they  are  something  strange 
— not  embraced  in  the  notion  and  conception  of  the  subject 
which  their  limited  intellect  forms.  Hence  the  statement 
that  Philosophy  does  not  understand  such  sciences.  It  must, 
indeed,  allow  that  it  has  not  that  kind  of  Understanding 
which  is  the  prevailing  one  in  the  domain  of  those  sciences 
that  it  does  not  proceed  according  to  the  categories  of  such 
Understanding,  but  a^vording  to  the  categories  of 


68  INTRODUCTION. 

—  though  at  the  same  time  recognizing  that  Understanding, 
and  its  true  value  and  position.  It  must  be  observed  that 
in  this  very  process  of  scientific  Understanding,  it  is  of 
importance  that  the  essential  should  be  distinguished  and 
brought  into  relief  in  contrast  with  the  so-called  non-essen- 
tial. But  in  order  to  render  this  possible,  we  must  know 
what  is  essential ;  and  that  is — in  view  of  the  History  of  the 
"World  in  general — the  Consciousness  of  Freedom,  and  the 
phases  which  this  consciousness  assumes  in  developing  itself. 
The  bearing  of  historical  facts  on  this  category,  is  their 
bearing  on  the  truly  Essential.  Of  the  difficulties  stated, 
and  the  opposition  exhibited  to  comprehensive  conceptions 
in  science,  part  must  be  referred  to  the  inability  to  grasp 
and  understand  Ideas.  If  in  .Natural  History  some  monstrous 
hybrid  growth  is  alleged  as  an  objection  to  the  recognition 
of  clear  and  indubitable  classes  or  species,  a  sufficient  reply 
is  furnished  by  a  sentiment  often  vaguely  urged,  —that  "  the 
exception  confirms  the  rule  ;"  i.e.  that  is  the  part  of  a  well- 
defined  rule,  to  shew  the  conditions  in  which  it  applies,  or 
the  deficiency  or  hybridism  of  cases  that  are  abnormal. 
Mere  Nature  is  too  weak  to  keep  its  genera  and  species 
pure,  when  conflicting  with  alien  elementary  influences. 
If,  e.g.  on  considering  the  human  organization  in  its  concrete 
aspect,  we  assert  that  brain,  heart,  and  so  forth  are  essential 
to  its  organic  life,  some  miserable  abortion  may  be  adduced, 
which  has  on  the  whole  the  human  form,  or  parts  of  it, — which 
has  been  conceived  in  a  human  body  and  has  breathed  after 
birth  therefrom, — in  which  nevertheless  no  brain  and  no  heart 
is  found.  If  such  an  instance  is  quoted  against  the  general 
conception  of  a  human  being — the  objector  persisting  in 
using  the  name,  coupled  with  a  superficial  idea  respecting 
it — it  can  be  proved  that  a  real,  concrete  human  being  is  a 
truly  different  object ;  that  such  a  being  must  have  a  brain 
in  its  head,  and  a  heart  in  its  breast. 

A  similar  process  of  reasoning  is  adopted,  in  reference  to 
the  correct  assertion  that  genius,  talent,  moral  virtues,  and  sen- 
timents, and  piety,  may  be  found  in  every  zone,  under  all  po- 
litical constitutions  and  conditions  ;  in  confirmation  of  which 
examples  are  forthcoming  in  abundance.  If  in  this  assertion, 
the  accompanying  distinctions  are  intended  to  be  repudiated 
&o  unimportant  or  non-essential,  reflection  evidently  limits 


DISTINCTIONS   IX   NATIONAL   GENIUS   IGNORED.          60 

itself  to  abstract  categories ;  and  ignores  the  specialities  of 
the  object  in  question,  which  certainly  fall  under  no  principle 
recognized  by  such  categories.  That  intellectual  position 
which  adopts  such  merely  formal  points  of  view,  presents  a 
vast  field  for  ingenious  questions,  erudite  views,  and  striking 
comparisons  ;  for  profound  seeming  reflections  and  declama- 
tions, which  may  be  rendered  so  much  the  more  brilliant  in 
proportion  as  the  subject  they  refer  to  is  indefinite,  and  are 
susceptible  of  new  and  varied  forms  in  inverse  proportion  to 
the  importance  of  the  results  that  can  be  gained  from  them, 
and  the  certainty  and  rationality  of  their  issues.  Under 
such  an  aspect  the  well  known  Indian  Epopees  may  be  com- 
pared with  the  Homeric  ;  perhaps  —  since  it  is  the  vast- 
ness  of  the  imagination  by  which  poetical  genius  proves 
itself — preferred  to  them  ;  as,  on  account  of  the  similarity  of 
single  strokes  of  imagination  in  the  attributes  of  the  divi- 
nities, it  has  been  contended  that  Greek  mythological  forms 
may  be  recognized  in  those  of  India.  Similarly  the  Chinese 
philosophy,  as  adopting  the  One  [TO  £»']  as  its  basis,  has  been 
alleged  to  be  the  same  as  at  a  later  period  appeared  as 
Eleatic  philosophy  and  as  the  Spinozistic  System  ;  while  in 
virtue  of  its  expressing  itself  also  in  abstract  numbers  and 
lines,  Pythagorean  and  Christian  principles  have  been  sup- 
posed to  be  detected  in  it.  Instances  of  bravery  and  indomi- 
table courage, — traits  of  magnanimity,  of  self-denial,  and 
self-sacrifice,  which  are  found  among  the  most  savage  and  the 
most  pusillanimous  nations, — are  regarded  as  sufficient  to  sup- 
port the  view  that  in  these  nations  MS  much  of  social  virtue 
and  morality  may  be  found  as  in  the  most  civilized  Christian 
states,  or  even  more.  And  on  this  ground  a  doubt  has  been 
suggested  whether  in  the  progress  of  history  and  of  gene- 
ral culture  mankind  have  become  better ;  whether  their 
morality  has  been  increased,  —  morality  being  regarded  in  a, 
subjective  aspect  and  view,  as  founded  on  what  the  agent 
holds  to  be  right  and  wrong,  good  and  evil ;  not  on  a  principle 
which  is  considered  to  be  in  and  for  itself  right  and  good,  or 
a  crime  and  evil,  or  on  a  particular  religion  believed  to  be 
the  true  one. 

We  may  fairly  decline  on  this  occasion  the  task  of  tracing 
the  formalism  and  error  of  such  a  view,  and  establishing  the 
true  principles  of  morality,  or  rather  of  social  virtue  in 


70  rSTBODCTCTIOW. 

opposition  to  false  morality.  For  the  History  of  the  Worfd 
occupies  a  higher  ground  than  that  on  which  morality 
has  properly  its  position  ,  which  is  personal  character, — the 
conscience  of  individuals,  —their  particular  will  and  mode  of 
action  ;  these  have  a  value,  imputation,  reward  or  punishment 
proper  to  themselves.  What  the  absolute  aim  of  Spirit  re- 
quires and  accomplishes, — what  Providence  does, — transcends 
the  obligations,  and  the  liability  to  imputation  and  the 
ascription  of  good  or  bad  motives,  which  attach  to  indi- 
viduality in  virtue  of  its  social  relations.  They  who  on  moral 
grounds,  and  consequently  with  noble  intention,  have  re- 
sisted that  which  the  advance  of  the  Spiritual  Idea  makes 
necessary,  stand  higher  in  moral  worth  than  those  whose 
crimes  have  been  turned  into  the  means — under  the  direction 
of  a  superior  principle — of  realizing  the  purposes  of  that 
principle.  But  in  such  revolutions  both  parties  generally 
stand  within  the  limits  of  the  same  circle  of  transient  and 
corruptible  existence.  Consequently  it  is  only  a  formal 
rectitude — deserted  by  the  living  Spirit  and  by  God —which 
those  who  stand  upon  ancient  right  and  order  maintain. 
The  deeds  of  great  men,  who  are  the  Individuals  of  the 
World's  History,  thus  appear  not  only  justified  in  view  of 
that  intrinsic  result  of  which  they  were  not  conscious,  but 
also  from  the  point  of  view  occupied  by  the  secular 
moralist.  But  looked  at  from  this  point,  moral  claims  that 
are  irrelevant,  must  not  be  brought  into  collision  with  world- 
historical  deeds  and  their  accomplishment.  The  Litany  of 
private  virtues— modesty,  humility,  philanthropy  and  for- 
bearance—must not  be  raised  against  them.  The  History  of 
the  World  might,  on  principle,  entirely  ignore  the  circle 
within  which  morality  and  the  so  much  talked  of  distinction 
between  the  moral  and  the  politic  lies — not  only  in  abstain- 
ing from  judgments,  for  the  principles  involved,  and  the  ne- 
cessary reference  of  the  deeds  in  question  to  those  principles, 
are  a  sufficient  judgment  of  them — but  in  leaving  Individuals 
quite  out  of  view  and  unmentioned.  What  it  has  to  re- 
cord is  the  activity  of  the  Spirit  of  Peoples,  so  that  the 
individual  forms  which  that  spirit  has  assumed  in  the  sphere 
of  outward  reality,  might  be  left  to  the  delineation  of  special 
histories. 

The  same  kind  of  formalism  avails  itself  in  its  peculiar 


DISTINCTIONS  IN   NATIONAL  OEXIUo  IGNOREIK  71 

manner  of  the  indefiniteness  attaching  to  genius,  poetry,  and 
even  philosophy  ;  thinks  equally  that  it  finds  these  every- 
where. We  have  here  products  of  reflective  thought;  and 
it  is  familiarity  with  those  general  conceptions  which  single 
out  and  name  real  distinctions  without  fathoming  the  true 
depth  of  the  matter, — that  we  call  Culture.  It  is  some- 
thing merely  formal,  inasmuch  as  it  aims  at  nothing 
more  than  the  analysis  of  the  subject,  whatever  it  be,  into 
its  constituent  parts,  and  the  comprehension  of  these  in  their 
logical  definitions  and  forms.  It  is  not  the  free  universality 
of  conception  necessary  for  making  an  abstract  principle  the 
object  of  consciousness.  Such  a  consciousness  of  Thought 
itself,  and  of  its  forms  isolated  from  a  particular  object,  is 
Philosophy.  This  has,  indeed,  the  condition  of  its  existence 
in  culture ;  that  condition  being  the  taking  up  of  the  object 
of  thought,  and  at  the  same  time  clothing  it  with  the  form  of 
universality,  in  such  away  that  the  material  content  and  the 
form  given  by  the  intellect  are  held  in  an  inseparable  state  ; — 
inseparable  to  such  a  degree  that  the  object  in  question — 
which,  by  the  analysis  of  one  conception  into  a  multitude 
of  conceptions,  is  enlarged  to  an  incalculable  treasure  of 
thought — is  regarded  as  a  merely  empirical  datum  in  whose 
formation  thought  has  had  no  share. 

But  it  is  quite  as  much  an  act  of  Thought  — of  the  Under- 
standing in  particular — to  embrace  in  one  simple  conception 
object  which  of  itself  comprehends  a  concrete  and  large  sig- 
nificance (as  Earth,  Man, — Alexander  or  Caesar)  and  to 
designate  it  by  one  word, — as  to  resolve  such  a  conception — 
duly  to  isolate  in  idea  the  conceptions  which  it  contains,  and 
to  give  them  particular  names.  And  in  reference  to  the  view 
which  gave  occasion  to  what  has  just  been  said,  thus  much 
will  be  clear,— that  as  reflection  produces  what  we  include 
under  the  general  terms  G-enius,  Talent,  Art,  Science, — formal 
culture  on  every  grade  of  intellectual  development,  not  only 
can,  but  must  grow,  and  attain  a  mature  bloom,  while  the 
grade  in  question  is  developing  itself  to  a  State,  and  on  this 
basis  of  civilization  is  advancing  to  intelligent  reflection  and 
to  general  forms  of  thought, — as  in  laws,  so  in  regard  to  all 
else.  In  the  very  association  of  men  in  a  state,  lies  the  ne- 
cessity of  formal  culture — consequently  of  the  rise  of  the 
•deuces  and  of  a  cultivated  poetry  and  "art  generally.  The 


72  INTBODUCTIOW. 

arts  designated  "plastic,"  require  besides,  even  in  their 
technical  aspect,  the  civilized  association  of  men.  The  poetic 
art— which  has  less  need  of  external  requirements  and  means, 
and  which  has  the  element  of  immediate  existence,  the  voice, 
as  its  material — steps  forth  with  great  boldness  and  with  ma- 
tured expression,  even  under  the  conditions  presented  by  a 
people  not  yet  united  in  a  political  combination  ;  since,  as  re- 
marked above,  language  attains  on  its  own  particular  ground 
a  high  intellectual  development,  prior  to  the  commence- 
ment of  civilization. 

Philosophy  also  must  make  its  appearance  where  political 
life  exists  ;  since  that  in  virtue  of  which  any  series  of  pheno- 
mena is  reduced  within  the  sphere  of  culture,  as  above  stated, 
is  the  Form  strictly  proper  to  Thought ;  and  thus  for  philoso- 
phy, which  is  nothing  other  than  the  consciousness  of  thia 
form  itself — theThinking  of  Thinking, — the  material  of  which 
its  edifice  is  to  be  constructed,  is  already  prepared  by  general 
culture.  If  in  the  development  of  tbe  State  itself,  periods 
are  necessitated  which  impel  the  soul  of  nobler  natures  to 
aeek  refuge  from  the  Present  in  ideal  regions, — in  order  to  find 
in  them  that  harmony  with  itself  which  it  can  no  longer 
enjoy  in  the  discordant  real  world,  where  the  reflective  intel- 
ligence attacks  all  that  is  holy  and  deep,  which  had  been  spon- 
taneously inwrought  into  the  religion,  laws  and  manners  of 
nations,  and  brings  them  down  and  attenuates  them  to  ab- 
stract godless  generalities, — Thought  will  be  compelled  to  be- 
come Thinking  Season,  with  the  view  of  effecting  in  its  own 
element,  the  restoration  of  its  principles  from  the  ruin  to 
which  they  had  been  brought. 

We  find  then,  it  is  true,  among  all  world-historical  peoples, 
poetry,  plastic  art,  science,  even  philosophy ;  but  not  only  is 
there"  a  diversity  in  style  and  bearing  generally,  but  still 
more  remarkably  in  subject-matter ;  and  this  is  a  diversity  of 
the  most  important  kind,  affecting  the  rationality  of  that  sub- 
ject-matter. It  is  useless  for  apretentious  aesthetic  criticism  to 
demand  that  our  good  pleasure  should  not  be  made  the  rule 
for  the  matter — the  substantial  part  of  their  contents — and  to 
maintain  that  it  is  the  beautiful  form  as  such,  the  grandeur 
of  the  fancy,  and  so  forth,  which  fine  art  aims  at,  and  which 
must  be  considered  and  enjoyed  by  a  liberal  taste  and  cul- 
tivated mind.  A  healthy  intellect  does  njt  tolerate  such 


7ALBE   CLASSIFICATIONS.  78 

abstractions,  and  cannot  assimilate  productions  of  the  kind 
above  referred  to.  Granted  that  the  Indian  Epopees  might 
be  placed  on  a  level  with  the  Homeric,  on  account  of  a  num- 
ber of  those  qualities  of  form  —  grandeur  of  invention  and 
imaginative  power,  liveliness  of  images  and  emotions,  and 
beauty  of  diction ;  yet  the  infinite  difference  of  matter 
remains  ;  consequently  one  of  substantial  importance  and  in- 
volving the  interest  of  Reason,  which  is  immediately  con- 
cerned with  the  consciousness  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom,  and  its 
expression  in  individuals.  There  is  not  only  a  classical  form, 
but  a  classical  order  of  subject-matter  ;  and  in  a  work  of  art 
form  and  subject  matter  are  so  closely  united  that  the  former 
can  only  be  classical  to  the  extent  to  which  the  latter  is  so. 
"With  a  fantastical,  indeterminate  material — and  Rule  is  the 
essence  of  Reason — the  form  becomes  measureless  and  form- 
less, or  mean  and  contracted.  In  the  same  way,  in  that  com- 
parison of  the  various  systems  of  philosophy  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken,  the  only  point  of  importance  is  overlooked, 
namely,  the  character  of  that  Unity  which  is  found  alike  in  the 
Chinese,  the  Eleatic,  and  the  Spinozistic  philosophy — the 
distinction  between  the  recognition  of  that  TJnity  as  abstract 
and  as  concrete — concrete  to  the  extent  of  being  a  unity  in 
and  by  itself — a  unity  synonymous  with  Spirit.  But  that 
co-ordination  proves  that  it  recognizes  only  such  an  abstract 
unity;  so  that  while  it  gives  judgment  respecting  philo- 
sophy, it  is  ignorant  of  that  very  point  which  constitutes  the 
interest  of  philosophy. 

But  there  are  also  spheres  which,  amid  all  the  variety  that 
ts  presented  in  the  substantial  content  of  a  particular  form  of 
culture,  remain  the  same.  The  difference  above  mentioned 
in  art,  science,  philosophy,  concerns  the  thinking  Reason  and 
Freedom,  which  is  the  self-consciousness  of  the  former,  and 
which  has  the  same  one  root  with  Thought.  As  it  is  not  the 
brute,  but  only  theman  tbatthinks,  he  only  —  and  only  because 
he  is  a  thinking  being — has  Freedom.  His  consciousness  im- 
ports this,  that  the  individual  comprehends  itself  as  a  person, 
that  is,  recognizes  itself  in  its  single  existence  as  possessing 
universality,  —  as  capable  of  abstraction  from,  and  of  surren- 
dering all  speciality ;  and,  therefore,  as  inherently  infinite. 
Consequently  those  spheres  of  intelligence  which  lie  beyond 
the  limits  of  this  consciousness  are  a  common  ground  among 


74  INTRODUCTION. 

£hose  substantial  distinctions.  Even  morality,  which  is  so 
intimately  connected  with  the  consciousness  of  freedom,  can 
be  very  pure  while  that  consciousness  is  still  wanting  ;  as 
far,  that  is  to  say,  as  it  expresses  duties  and  rights  only  as 
objective  commands ;  or  even  as  far  as  it  remains  satisfied 
with  the  merely  formal  elevation  of  the  soul — the  surrender 
of  the  sensual,  and  of  all  sensual  motives — in  a  purely  nega- 
tive, self-denying  fashion.  The  Chinese  morality — since 
Europeans  have  become  acquainted  with  it  and  with  the 
writings  of  Confucius— has  obtained  the  greatest  praise  and 
proportionate  attention  from  those  who  are  familiar  with  the 
Christian  morality.  There  is  a  similar  acknowledgment  of 
the  sublimity  with  which  the  Indian  religion  and  poetry, 
(a  statement  that  must,  however,  be  limited  to  the  higher 
kind),  but  especially  the  Indian  philosophy,  expatiate  upon 
and  demand  the  removal  and  sacrifice  of  sensuality.  Yet 
both  these  nations  are,  it  must  be  confessed,  entirely  wanting 
in  the  essential  consciousness  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom.  To 
the  Chinese  their  moral  laws  are  just  like  natural  laws, — 
external,  positive  commands, — claims  established  by  force, — 
compulsory  duties  or  rules  of  courtesy  towards  each  other. 
Freedom,  through  which  alone  the  essential  determinations 
of  Reason  become  moral  sentiments,  is  wanting.  Morality 
is  a  political  affair,  and  its  laws  are  administered  by  officers 
of  government  and  legal  tribunals.  Their  treatises  upon  it, 
(which  are  not  law  books,  but  are  certainly  addressed  to  the 
subjective  will  and  individual  disposition)  read, — as  do  the 
moral  writings  of  the  Stoics, — like  a  string  of  commands 
stated  as  necessary  for  realizing  the  goal  of  happiness  ;  so 
that  it  seems  to  be  left  free  to  men,  on  their  part,  to 
adopt  such  commands, —to  observe  them  or  not;  while  the 
conception  of  an  abstract  subject,  "  a  wise  man"  [Sapiens] 
forms  the  culminating  point  among  the  Chinese,  as  also 
among  the  Stoic  moralists.  Also  in  the  Indian  doctrine  of  the 
renunciation  of  the  sensuality  of  Desires  and  earthly  interests, 
positive  moral  freedom  is  not  the  object  and  end,  but  the 
annihilation  of  consciousness  —  spiritual  and  even  physical 
privation  of  life. 

It  is  the  concrete  spirit  of  a  people  which  we  have  dis- 
tinctly to  recognize,  and  since  it  is  Spirit  it  can  only  be  com- 
prehended spiritually,  that  is,  by  thought.  It  is  tkis  akmo 


TACIE  ASPECT  OF  HISTORY.          75 

which  takes  the  lead  in  all  the  deeds  and  tendencies  of  that 
people,  and  which  is  occupied  in  realizing  itself, — in  satisfying 
its  ideal  and  becoming  self-conscious, — for  its  great  business 
is  self-production.  But  for  spirit,  the  highest  attainment  is 
self-knowledge  ;  an  advance  not  only  to  the  intuition,  but 
to  the  thought — the  clear  conception  of  itself.  This  it 
must  and  is  also  destined  to  accomplish;  but  the  accom- 
plishment is  at  the  same  time  its  dissolution,  and  the  rise  of 
another  spirit,  another  world-historical  people,  another 
epoch  of  Universal  History.  This  transition  and  connection 
leads  us  to  the  connection  of  the  whole — the  idea  of  the 
World's  History  as  such — which  we  have  now  to  consider 
more  closely,  and  of  which  we  have  to  give  a  representation. 

History  in  general  is  therefore  the  development  of 
Spirit  in  Timet  as  Nature  is  the  development  of  the  Idea  in 
Space. 

If  then  we  cast  a  glance  over  the  "World' s-Hi story 
generally,  we  see  a  vast  picture  of  changes  and  transactions  ; 
of  infinitely  manifold  forms  of  peoples,  states,  individuals,  in 
unresting  succession.  Everything  that  can  enter  into  and 
interest  the  soul  of  man — all  our  sensibility  to  goodness, 
beauty,  and  greatness — is  c&lled  into  play.  On  every  hand 
aims  are  adopted  and  pursued,  which  we  recognize,  whose 
accomplishment  we  desire — we  hope  and  fear  for  them.  In 
all  these  occurrences  and  changes  we  behold  human  action 
and  suffering  predominant ;  everywhere  something  akin  to 
ourselves,  and  therefore  everywhere  something  that  excites 
Our  interest  for  or  against.  Sometimes  it  attracts  us  by 
beauty,  freedom,  and  rich  variety,  sometimes  by  energy  such 
as  enables  even  vice  to  make  itself  interesting.  Sometimes 
we  see  the  more  comprehensive  mass  of  some  general  interest 
advancing  with  comparative  slowness,  and  subsequently 
sacrificed  to  an  infinite  complication  of  trifling  circumstances, 
and  so  dissipated  into  atoms.  Then,  again,  with  a  vast  ex- 
penditure of  power  a  trivial  result  is  produced  ;  while  from 
what  appears  unimportant  a  tremendous  issue  proceeds.  On 
every  hand  there  is  the  motliest  throng  of  events  drawing 
us  within  the  circle  of  its  interest,  and  when  one  combination 
vanishes  another  immediately  appears  in  its  place. 

The  general  thought — the  category  which  first  presents 
itself  in  this  restless  mutation  of  individuals  and  peoples^ 


76  INTBODUCTIOH. 

existing  for  a  time  and  then  vanishing — is  that  of  change  at 
large.  The  sight  of  the  ruins  of  some  ancient  sovereignty 
directly  leads  us  to  contemplate  this  thought  of  change  in 
its  negative  aspect.  What  traveller  among  the  ruins  of 
Carthage,  of  Palmyra,  Persepolis,  or  Rome,  has  not  been 
stimulated  to  reflections  on  the  transiency  of  kingdoms  and 
men,  and  to  sadness  at  the  thought  of  a  vigorous  and  rich 
life  now  departed  -  a  sadness  which  does  not  expend  itself 
on  personal  losses  and  the  uncertainty  of  one's  own  under- 
takings, but  is  a  disinterested  sorrow  at  the  decay  of  a  splendid 
and  highly  cultured  national  life  !  But  the  next  consideration 
which  allies  itself  with  that  of  change,  is,  that  change  while 
it  imports  dissolution,  involves  at  the  same  time  the  rise  of 
a  new  life — that  while  death  is  the  issue  of  life,  life  is  also 
the  issue  of  death.  This  is  a  grand  conception  ;  one  which 
the  Oriental  thinkers  attained,  and  which  is  perhaps  the 
highest  in  their  metaphysics.  In  the  idea  of  Metempsychosis 
we  find  it  evolved  in  its  relation  to  individual  existence  ;  but 
a  myth  more  generally  known,  is  that  of  the  Phoenix  as 
a  type  of  the  Life  of  Nature  ;  eternally  preparing  for  itself 
its  funeral  pile,  and  consuming  itself  upon  it ;  but  so  that 
from  its  ashes  is  produced  the  new,  renovated,  fresh  life.  But 
this  image  is  only  Asiatic ;  oriental  not  occidental.  Spirit — 
consuming  the  envelope  of  its  existence — does  not  merely 
pass  into  another  envelope,  nor  rise  rejuvenescent  from  the 
ashes  of  its  previous  form  ;  it  comes  forth  exalted,  glorified, 
a  purer  spirit.  It  certainly  makes  war  upon  itself — con- 
sumes its  own  existence ;  but  in  this  very  destruction  it  works 
up  that  existence  into  anew  form,  and  each  successive  phase 
becomes  in  its  turn  a  material,  working  on  which  it  exalts 
itself  to  a  new  grade. 

If  we  consider  Spirit  in  this  aspect — regarding  its  changes 
not  merely  as  rejuvenescent  transitions,  t.  e.,  returns  to  the 
same  form,  but  rather  as  manipulations  of  itself,  by  which  it 
multiplies  the  material  for  future  endeavours — we  see 
it  exerting  itself  in  a  variety  of  modes  and  directions  ; 
developing  its  powers  and  gratifying  its  desires  in  a  variety 
which  is  inexhaustible  ;  because  every  one  of  its  creations,  in 
which  it  has  already  found  gratification,  meets  it  anew  as 
material,  and  is  a  new  stimulus  to  plastic-  activity.  The 
abstract  conception  of  mere  change  gives  place  to  the  thought 


ACTITITT    CHARACTEKISTIC    OF   "  SPIRIT."  77 

of  Spirit  manifesting,  developing,  and  perfecting  its  powers 
in  every  direction  which  its  manifold  nature  can  follow. 
What  powers  it  inherently  possesses  we  learn  from  the 
variety  of  products  and  formations  which  it  originates.  In 
this  pleasurable  activity,  it  has  to  do  only  with  itself.  As 
involved  with  the  conditions  of  mere  nature— internal  and 
external — it  will  indeed  meet  in  these  not  only  opposition  and 
hindrance,  but  will  often  see  its  endeavours  thereby  fail ; 
often  sink  under  the  complications  in  which  it  is. entangled 
either  by  Nature  or  by  itself.  But  in  such  case  it  perishes 
in  fulfilling  its  own  destiny  and  proper  function,  and  even 
thus  exhibits  the  spectacle  of  self-demonstration  as  spiritual 
activity. 

The  very  essence  of  Spirit  is  activity  ;  it  realizes  its 
potentiality — makes  itself  its  own  deed,  its  own  work — and 
thus  it  becomes  an  object  to  itself ;  contemplates  itself  as  an 
objective  existence.  Thus  is  it  with  the  Spirit  of  a  people :  it 
is  a  Spirit  having  strictly  denned  characteristics,  which  erects 
itself  into  an  objective  world,  that  exists  and  persists  in  a  par- 
ticular religious  form  of  worship,  customs,  constitution,  and 
political  laws, — in  the  whole  complex  of  its  institutions, — in 
the  events  and  transactions  that  make  up  its  history.  That  is 
its  work — that  is  what  this  particular  Nation  is.  Nations  are 
what  their  deeds  are.  Every  Englishman  will  say  :  We  are 
the  men  who  navigate  the  ocean,  and  have  the  commerce  of 
the  world ;  to  whom  the  East  Indies  belong  and  their  riches  • 
who  have  a  parliament,  juries,  &c.  — The  relation  of  the  in- 
dividual to  that  Spirit  is  that  he  appropriates  to  himself  this 
substantial  existence  ;  that  it  becomes  his  character  and  capa- 
bility, enabling  him  to  have  a  definite  place  in  the  world— to 
be  something.  Eor  he  finds  the  being  of  the  people  to  which  he 
belongs  an  already  established,  firm  world — objectively  pre- 
sent to  him — with  which  he  has  to  incorporate  himself.  In  this 
its  work,  therefore  —its  world — the  Spirit  of  the  people  enjoys 
its  existence  and  finds  its  satisfaction. — A  Nation  is  moral — 
virtuous  -  vigorous — while  it  is  engaged  in  realizing  its  grand 
objects,  and  defends  its  work  against  external  violence  during 
the  process  of  giving  to  its  purposes  an  objective  existence. 
The  contradiction  between  its  potential,  subjective  being — 
its  inner  aim  and  life — and  its  actual  being  is  removed  ;  it 
has  attained  full  reality,  has  itself  objectively  present  to  it. 


78  INTRODUCTION. 

But  tins  having  been  attained,  the  activity  displayed  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  people  in  question  is  no  longer  needed ;  it  has 
its  desire.  The  Nation  can  still  accomplish  much  in  war  and 
peace  at  home  and  abroad ;  but  the  living  substantial  soul 
itself  may  be  said  to  have  ceased  its  activity.  The  essential, 
supreme  interest  has  consequently  vanished  from  its  life,  for 
interest  is  present  only  where  there  is  opposition.  The 
nation  lives  the  same  kind  of  life  as  the  individual  when 
passing  from  maturity  to  old  age, — in  the  enjoyment  of  itself, 
—in  the  satisfaction  of  being  exactly  what  it  desired  and  was 
able  to  attain.  Although  its  imagination  might  have  tran- 
scended that  limit,  it  nevertheless  abandoned  any  such  aspira- 
tions as  object's  of  actual  endeavour,  if  the  real  world  was 
less  than  favourable  to  their  attainment, — and  restricted  its 
aim  by  the  conditions  thus  imposed.  This  mere  customary 
life  (the  watch  wound  up  and  going  on  of  itself)  is  that 
which  brings  on  natural  death.  Custom  is  activity  without 
opposition,  for  which  there  remains  only  a  formal  duration  ; 
in  which  the  fulness  and  zest  that  originally  characterised 
the  aim  of  life  is  out  of  the  question, — a  merely  external 
sensuous  existence  which  has  ceased  to  throw  itself  enthu- 
siastically into  its  object.  Thus  perish  individuals,  thus 
perish  peoples  by  a  natural  death  ;  and  though  the  latter  may 
continue  in  being,  it  is  an  existence  without  intellect  or  vita- 
lity ;  having  no  need  of  its  institutions,  because  the  need 
for  them  is  satisfied,— a  political  nullity  and  tedium.  In 
order  that  a  truly  universal  interest  may  arise,  the  Spirit  of 
a  People  must  advance  to  the  adoption  of  some  new  purpose : 
but  whence  can  this  new  purpose  originate  ?  It  would  be  a 
higher,  more  comprehensive  conception  of  itself — a  tran- 
scending of  its  principle— but  this  very  act  would  involve  a 
principle  of  a  new  order,  a  new  National  Spirit. 

Such  a  new  principle  does  in  fact  enter  into  the  Spirit  of 
a  people  that  has  arrived  at  full  development  and  self-realiza- 
tion ;  it  dies  not  a  simply  natural  death,  —  for  it  is  not  a  mere 
single  individual,  but  a  spiritual,  generic  life  ;  in  its  case 
natural  death  appears  to  imply  destruction  through  its  own 
agency.  The  reason  of  this  difference  from  the  single 
natural  individual,  is  that  the  Spirit  of  a  people  exists  as  a 
gemis,  and  consequently  carries  within  it  its  own  negation, 
in  the  very  generality  which  characterizes  it.  A  people  can 


CHRONOS   AND   J5ETT8.  79 

only  die  a  violent  death  when  it  has  become  naturally  dead 
in  itself,  as  e.  g.,  the  German  Imperial  Cities,  the  German 
Imperial  Constitution. 

It  is  not  of  the  nature  of  the  all-pervading  Spirit  to  die 
this  merely  natural  death  ;  it  does  not  simply  sink  into  the 
senile  life  of  mere  custom,  but — as  being  a  National  Spirit 
belonging  to  Universal  History— attains  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  what  its  work  is  ;  it  attains  to  a  conception  of  itself. 
In  fact  it  is  world-historical  only  in  so  far  as  a  universal 
principle  has  lain  in  its  fundamental  element, — in  its  grand 
aim :  only  so  far  is  the  work  which  such  a  spirit  produces, 
a  moral,  political  organization.  If  it  be  mere  desires  that 
impel  nations  to  activity,  such  deeds  pass  over  without  leav- 
ing a  trace  ;  or  their  traces  are  only  ruin  and  destruction. 
Thus,  it  was  first  Chronos — Time — that  ruled;  the  Golden 
Age,  without  moral  products ;  and  what  was  produced — the 
offspring  of  that  Chronos  — was  devoured  by  it.  It  was 
Jupiter—from  whose  head  Minerva  sprang,  and  to  whose 
circle  of  divinities  belongs  Apollo  and  the  Muses — that  first 
put  a  constraint  upon  Time,  and  set  a  bound  to  its  principle 
of  decadence.  He  is  the  Political  god,  who  produced  a 
moral  work — the  State. 

In  the  very  element  of  an  achievement  the  quality  of  gene- 
rality, of  thought,  is  contained  ;  without  thought  it  has  no  ob- 
jectivity ;  that  is  its  basis.  The  highest  point  in  the  develop- 
ment of  a  people  is  this, — to  have  gained  a  conception  of  its 
life  and  condition, — to  have  reduced  its  laws,  its  ideas  of  jus- 
tice and  morality  to  a  science;  for  in  this  unity  [of  the 
objective  and  subjective]  lies  the  most  intimate  unity  that 
Spirit  can  attain  to  in  and  with  itself.  In  its  work  it  is 
employed  in  rendering  itself  an  object  of  its  own  contempla- 
tion ;  but  it  cannot  develop  itself  objectively  in  its  essential 
nature,  except  in  thinking  itself. 

At  this  point,  then,  Spirit  is  acquainted  with  its  princi- 
ples—the general  character  of  its  acts.  But  at  the  same 
time,  in  virtue  of  its  very  generality,  this  work  of  thought 
is  different  in  point  of  form  from  the  actual  achievements  of 
the  national  genius,  and  from  the  vital  agency  by  which  those 
achievements  have  been  performed.  We  have  then  before 
us  a  real  and  an  ideal  existence  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Nation. 
If  we  wish  to  gain  the  general  idea  and  conception  of  what 


80  INTEODXTCTIOIT. 

the  Greeks  were,  we  find  it  in  Sophocles  and  Aristophanes, 
in  Thucydides  and  Plato.  In  these  individuals  the  Greek 
spirit  conceived  and  thought  itself.  This  is  the  profounder 
kind  of  satisfaction  which  the  Spirit  of  a  people  attains  ;  but 
it  is  "ideal,"  and  distinct  from  its  "real"  activity. 

At  such  a  time,  therefore,  we  are  sure  to  see  a  people  find- 
ing satisfaction  in  the  idea  of  virtue ;  putting  talk  about 
virtue  partly  side  by  side  with  actual  virtue,  but  partly  in 
+<he  place  of  it.  On  the  other  hand  pure,  universal  thought, 
since  its  nature  is  universality,  is  apt  to  bring  the  Special  and 
Spontaneous — Belief,  Trust,  Customary  Morality — to  reflect 
upon  itself,  and  its  primitive  simplicity  ;  to  shew  up  the  limi- 
tation with  which  it  is  fettered, — partly  suggesting  reasons 
for  renouncing  duties,  partly  itself  demanding  reasons,  and 
the  connection  of  such  requirements  with  Universal  Thought ; 
and  not  finding  that  connection,  seeking  to  impeach  the 
authority  of  duty  generally,  as  destitute  of  a  sound  founda- 
tion. 

At  the  same  time  the  isolation  of  individuals  from  each 
other  and  from  the  Whole  makes  its  appearance  ;  their  aggres- 
dive  selfishness  and  vanity  ;  their  seeking  personal  advantage 
and  consulting  this  at  the  expense  of  the  State  at  large.  That 
inward  principle  in  transcending  its  outward  manifestations 
is  subjective  also  inform — viz.,  selfishness  and  corruption 
in  the  unbound  passions  and  egotistic  interests  of  men. 

Zeus,  therefore,  who  is  represented  as  having  put  a  limit 
to  the  devouring  agency  of  Time,  and  staid  this  transiency 
by  having  established  something  inherently  and  indepen- 
dently durable — Zeus  and  his  race  are  themselves  swallowed 
up,  and  that  by  the  very  power  that  produced  them, — the  prin- 
ciple of  thought,  perception,  reasoning,  insight  derived  from 
rational  grounds,  and  the  requirement  of  such  grounds. 

Time  is  the  negative  element  in  the  sensuous  world. 
Thought  is  the  same  negativity,  but  it  is  the  deepest,  the 
infinite  form  of  it,  in  which  therefore  all  existence  generally 
is  dissolved ;  ftrstjlnite  existence, — determinate,  limited  form: 
but  existence  generally,  in  its  objective  character,  is  limited  ; 
it  appears  therefore  as  a  mere  datum — something  immediate 
— authority; — and  is  either  intrinsically  finite  and  limited,  or 
presents  itself  as  a  limit  for  the  thinking  subject,  and  its 
infinite  reflection  on  itself  [unlimited  abstraction]. 


SUMMARY.  81 

But  first  we  must  observe  'now  the  iife  which  proceeds 
from  death,  is  itself,  on  the  other  haud,  only  individual  life ; 
so  that,  regarding  the  species  as  the  real  and  substantial  in 
this  vicissitude,  the  perishing  of  the  individual  is  a  regress  of 
the  species  into  individuality.  The  perpetuation  of  the  race 
is,  therefore,  none  other  than  the  monotonous  repetition  oi' 
the  same  kind  of  existence.  Further,  we  must  remark  how 
perception, — the  comprehension  of  being  by  thought, — is  the 
source  and  birthplace  of  a  new,  and  in  fact  higher  form,  in 
a  principle  which  while  it  preserves,  dignifies  its  material 
For  Thought  is  that  Universal — that  Species  which  is  ins*, 
mortal,  which  preserves  identity  with  itself.  The  particular 
form  of  Spirit  not  merely  passes  away  in  the  world  by  natural 
causes  in  Time,  but  is  annulled  in  the  automatic  self-mir- 
roring activity  of  consciousness.  Because  this  annulling  ie 
an  activity  of  Thought,  it  is  at  the  same  time  conservative 
and  elevating  in  its  operation.  While  then,  on  the  one  side, 
Spirit  annuls  the  reality,  the  permanence  of  that  which  it 
is,  it  gains  on  the  other  side,  the  essence,  the  Thought,  the 
Universal  element  of  that  which  it  only  was  [its  transient 
conditions].  Its  principle  is  no  longer  that  immediate 
import  and  aim  which  it  was  previously,  but  the  essence  of 
that  import  and  aim. 

The  result  of  this  process  is  then  that  Spirit,  in  render- 
ing itself  objective  and  making  this  its  being  an  object  of 
thought,  on  the  one  hand  destroys  the  determinate  form  of 
its  being,  on  the  other  hand  gains  a  comprehension  of  the 
universal  element  which  it  involves,  and  thereby  gives  a  new 
form  to  its  inherent  principle.  In  virtue  of  this,  the  sub- 
stantial character  of  the  National  Spirit  has  been  altered, — 
that  is,  its  principle  has  risen  into  another,  and  in  fact  a 
higher  principle. 

It  is  of  the  highest  importance  in  apprehending  and  com- 
prehending History  to  have  and  to  understand  the  thought 
involved  in  this  transition.  The  individual  traverses  as  a 
unity  various  grades  of  development,  and  remains  the  same 
individual ;  in  like  manner  also  does  a  people,  till  the  Spirit 
which  it  embodies  reaches  the  grade  of  universality.  In  this 
point  lies  the  fundamental,  the  Ideal  necessity  of  transition. 
This  is  the  soul— the  essential  consideration — of  the  philoso- 
phical comprehension  of  History. 


82  INTRODUCTION. 

Spirit  is  essentially  the  result  of  its  own  activity :  ita 
activity  is  the  transcending  of  immediate,  simple,  unre 
fleeted  existence, — the  negation  of  that  existence,  and  the 
returning  into  itself.  We  may  compare  it  with  the  seed  • 
for  with  this  the  plant  begins,  yet  it  is  also  the  result  of  the 
plant's  entire  life.  But  the  weak  side  of  life  is  exhibited  in 
the  fact  that  the  commencement  and  the  result  are  disjoined 
from  eacli  other.  Thus  also  is  it  in  the  life  of  individuals 
and  peoples.  The  life  of  a  people  ripens  a  certain  fruit ;  its 
activity  aims  at  the  complete  manifestation  of  the  principle 
which  it  embodies.  But  this  fruit  does  not  fall  back  into 
the  bosom  of  the  people  that  produced  and  matured  it ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  becomes  a  poison-draught  to  it.  That  poison- 
draught  it  cannot  let  alone,  for  it  has  an  insatiable  thirst  for 
it :  the  taste  of  the  draught  is  its  annihilation,  though  at  the 
same  time  the  rise  of  a  new  principle. 

We  have  already  discussed  the  final  aim  of  this  progression. 
The  principles  of  the  successive  phases  of  Spirit  that  animate 
the  Nations  in  a  necessitated  gradation,  are  themselves  only 
steps  in  the  development  of  the  one  universal  Spirit,  which 
through  them  elevates  and  completes  itself  to  a  self-compre- 
hending totality. 

While  we  are  thus  concerned  exclusively  with  the  Idea  of 
Spirit,  and  in  the  History  of  the  World  regard  everything 
as  only  its  manifestation,  we  have,  in  traversing  the  past, — 
however  extensive  its  periods, — only  to  do  with  what  is  pre- 
sent ;  for  philosophy,  as  occupying  itself  with  the  True,  has 
to  do  with  the  eternally  present.  Nothing  in  the  past  is  lost 
for  it,  for  the  Idea  is  ever  present ;  Spirit  is  immortal ;  with  it 
there  is  no  past,  no  future,  but  an  essential  now.  This 
necessarily  implies  that  the  prese  nt  form  of  Spirit  compre- 
hends within  it  all  earlier  steps.  These  have  indeed  unfolded 
themselves  in  succession  independently  ;  but  what  Spirit  is 
it  has  always  been  essentially ;  distinctions  are  only  the 
development  of  this  essential  nature.  The  life  of  the  ever 
present  Spirit  is  a  circle  of  progressive  embodiments,  which 
looked  at  in  one  aspect  still  exist  beside  each  other,  and  only 
as  looked  at  from  another  point  of  view  appear  as  past. 
The  grades  which  Spirit  seems  to  have  left  behind  it,  it  still 
possesses  in. the  depths  of  its  present. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  BASIS   OF   HISTORY. 

Contrasted  with  the  universality  of  the  moral  Whole  and 
with  the  unity  of  that  individuality  which  is  its  active  prin- 
ciple, the  natural  connection  that  helps  to  produce  the 
Spirit  of  a  People,  appears  an  extrinsic  element ;  hut  inasmuch 
as  we  must  regard  it  as  the  ground  on  which  that  Spirit 
plays  its  part,  it  is  an  essential  and  necessary  basis.  We 
began  with  the  assertion  that,  in  the  History  of  the  World, 
the  Idea  of  Spirit  appears  in  its  actual  embodiment  as  a  series 
of  external  forms,  each  one  of  which  declares  itself  as  an 
actually  existing  people.  This  existence  falls  under  the 
category  of  Time  as  well  as  Space,  in  the  way  of  natural 
existence ;  and  the  special  principle,  which  every  world- 
historical  people  embodies,  has  this  principle  at  the  same 
time  as  a  natural  characteristic.  Spirit,  clothing  itself  in 
this  form  of  nature,  suffers  its  particular  phases  to  assume 
separate  existence  ;  for  mutual  exclusion  is  the  mode  of 
existence  proper  to  mere  nature.  These  natural  distinctions 
must  be  first  of  all  regarded  as  special  possibilities,  from 
which  the  Spirit  of  the  people  in  question  germinates,  and 
among  them  is  the  Geographical  Basis.  It  is  not  our  concern 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  land  occupied  by  nations  as 
an  external  locale,  but  with  the  natural  type  of  the  locality, 
as  intimately  connected  with  the  type  and  character  of  the 
people  which  is  the  offspring  of  such  a  soil.  This  character 
is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  mode  and  form  in  which 
nations  make  their  appearance  in  History,  and  take  place 
and  position  in  it.  Nature  should  not  be  rated  too  high  nor 
too  low :  the  mild  Ionic  sky  certainly  contributed  much  to 
the  charm  of  the  Homeric  poems,  yet  this  alone  can  produce 
no  Homers  Nor  in  fact  does  it  continue  to  produce  them ; 
under  Turkish  government  no  bards  have  arisen.  We  must 
first  take  notice  of  those  natural  conditions  which  have  to 
be  excluded  once  for  all  from  the  drama  of  the  World's 
History.  In  the  Frigid  and  in  the  Torrid  zone  the  locality  of 
World-historical  peoples  cannot  be  found.  For  awakening 
consciousness  takes  its  rise  surrounded  by  natural  in- 
fluences alone,  and  every  development  of  it  is  the  reflection 
of  Spirit  back  upon  itself  in  opposition  to  the 


84 

unreflected  character  of  mere  nature.  Nature  is  therefore 
one  element  in  this  antithetic  abstracting  process  ;  Nature  is 
the  first  stand  point  from  which  man  can  gain  freedom  within 
himself,  and  this  liberation  must  not  be  rendered  difficult  by 
natural  obstructions.  Nature,  as  contrasted  with  Spirit,  is  a 
quantitative  mass,  whose  power  must  not  be  so  great  as 
to  make  its  single  force  omnipotent.  In  the  extreme  zones 
man  cannot  come  to  free  movement ;  cold  and  heat  are  here 
too  powerful  to  allow  Spirit  to  build  up  a  world  for  itself. 
Aristotle  said  long  ago,  "  When  pressing  needs  are  satisfied, 
man  turns  to  the  general  and  more  elevated."  But  in  the 
extreme  zones  such  pressure  may  be  said  never  to  cease, 
never  to  be  warded  off;  men  are  constantly  impelled  to 
direct  attention  to  nature,  to  the  glowing  rays  of  the  sun, 
and  the  icy  frost.  The  true  theatre  of  History  is  therefore 
the  temperate  zone ;  or  rather,  its  northern  half,  because 
the  earth  there  presents  itself  in  a  continental  form,  and  has- 
a  broad  breast,  as  the  Greeks  say.  In  the  south,  on  the 
contrary,  it  divides  itself,  and  runs  out  into  many  points. 
The  same  peculiarity  shews  itself  in  natural  products.  The 
north  has  many  kinds  of  animals  and  plants  with  common 
characteristics;  in  the  south,  where  the  land  divides  itself 
into  points,  natural  forms  also  present  individual  features 
contrasted  with  each  other. 

The  World  is  divided  into  Old  and  Neiv ;  the  name  of  New 
having  originated  in  the  fact  that  America  and  Australia 
have  only  lately  became  known  to  us.  But  these  parts  of 
the  world  are  not  only  relatively  new,  but  intrinsically  so  in 
respect  of  their  entire  physical  and  psychical  constitution. 
Their  geological  antiquity  we  have  nothing  to  do  with.  I 
will  not  deny  the  New  World  the  honour  of  having  emerged 
from  the  sea  at  the  world's  formation  contemporaneously 
\vith  the  old :  yet  the  Archipelago  between  South  America 
and  Asia  shews  a  physical  immaturity.  The  greater  part  of 
the  islands  are  so  constituted,  that  they  are,  as  it  were,  only 
a  superficial  deposit  of  earth  over  rocks,  which  shoot  up  from 
the  fathomless  deep,  and  bear  the  character  of  novel  origina- 
tion. New  Holland  shews  a  not  less  immature  geographical 
character;  for  in  penetrating  from  the  settlements  of  the 
English  farther  into  the  country,  we  discover  immense 
streams,  which  have  not  yet  developed  themselves  to  such  a 


THE    NEW    WOBLD. 


degree  as  to  dig  a  channel  for  themselves,  but  lose  them- 
selves in  marshes.  Of  America  and  its  grade  of  civilization, 
especially  in  Mexico  and  Peru,  we  have  information,  but 
it  imports  nothing  more  than  that  this  culture  was  an 
entirely  national  one,  which  must  expire  as  soon  as  Spirit 
approached  it.  America  has  always  shewn  itself  physically 
and  psychically  powerless,  and  still  shews  itself  so.  For  the 
aborigines,  after  the  landing  of  the  Europeans  in  America, 
gradually  vanished  at  the  breath  of  European  activity.  In 
the  United  States  of  North  America  all  the  citizens  are  of 
European  descent,  with  whom  the  old  inhabitants  could  not 
amalgamate,  but  were  driven  back.  The  aborigines  have 
certainly  adopted  some  arts  and  usages  from  the  Europeans, 
among  others  that  of  brandy-drinking,  which  has  operated 
with  deadly  effect.  In  the  South  the  natives  were  treated 
with  much  greater  violence,  and  employed  in  hard  labours  to 
which  their  strength  was  by  no  means  competent.  A  mild 
and  passionless  disposition,  want  of  spirit,  and  a  crouching 
submissiveriess  towards  a  Creole,  and  still  more  towards  a 
European,  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  native  Ameri- 
cans ;  and  it  will  be  long  before  the  Europeans  succeed  in 
producing  any  independence  of  feeling  in  them.  The  infe- 
riority of  these  individuals  in  all  respects,  even  in  regard  to 
size,  is  very  manifest ;  only  the  quite  southern  races  in 
Patagonia  are  more  vigorous  natures,  but  still  abiding  in 
their  natural  condition  of  rudeness  and  barbarism.  When  the 
Jesuits  and  the  Catholic  clergy  proposed  to  accustom  the  In- 
dians to  European  culture  and  manners  (they  have,  as  is  well 
known,  founded  a  state  in  Paraguay  and  convents  in  Mexico 
and  California),  they  commenced  a  close  intimacy  with  them, 
and  prescribed  for  them  the  duties  of  the  day,  which,  sloth- 
ful though  their  disposition  was,  they  complied  with  under  the 
authority  of  the  Friars.  These  prescripts,  (at  midnight  a  bel! 
had  to  remind  them  even  of  their  matrimonial  duties,)  were 
first,  and  very  wisely,  directed  to  the  creation  of  wants — the 
springs  of  human  activity  generally.  The  weakness  of  the 
American  physique  was  a  chief  reason  for  bringing  the 
negroes  to  America,  to  employ  their  labour  in  the  work  that 
had  to  be  done  in  the  New  World  ;  for  the  negroes  are  far 
more  susceptible  of  European  culture  than  the  Indians,  and 
an  English  traveller  has  adduced  instance.0  of  negroes  having 


86 

become  competent  clergymen,  medical  men,  <fcc.  (a  negro 
first  discovered  the  use  of  the  Peruvian  bark),  while  only  a 
single  native  was  known  to  him  whose  intellect  was  suffi- 
ciently developed  to  enable  him  to  study,  but  who  had  died 
soon  after  beginning,  through  excessive  brandy-drinking. 
The  weakness  of  ihe  human  physique  of  America  has  been 
aggravated  by  a  deficiency  in  the  mere  tools  and  appliances 
of  progress, — the  want  of  horses  and  iron,  the  chief  instru- 
ments by  which  they  were  subdued. 

The  original  nation  having  vanished  or  nearly  so,  the 
effective  population  comes  for  the  most  part  from  Europe  ; 
and  what  takes  place  in  America  is  but  an  emanation  from 
Europe.  Europe  has  sent  its  surplus  population  to  America 
in  much  the  same  way  as  from  the  old  Imperial  Cities, 
where  trade-guilds  were  dominant  and  trade  was  stereotyped, 
many  persons  escaped  to  other  towns  which  were  not  under 
such  a  yoke,  and  where  the  burden  of  imposts  was  not  so 
heavy.  Thus  arose,  by  the  side  of  Hamburg,  Altona, — by 
Frankfort,  Offenbach,— by  Niirnburg,  Forth,— and  Carouge 
by  Geneva.  The  relation  between  North  America  and  Europe 
is  similar.  Many  Englishmen  have  settled  there,  where 
burdens  and  imposts  do  not  exist,  and  where  the  combina- 
tion of  European  appliances  and  European  ingenuity  has 
availed  to  realize  some  produce  from  the  extensive  and  still 
virgin  soil.  Indeed  the  emigration  in  question  offers  many 
advantages.  The  emigrants  have  got  rid  of  much  that 
might  be  obstructive  to  their  interests  at  home,  while  they 
take  with  them  the  advantages  of  European  independence 
of  spirit,  and  acquired  skill ;  while  for  those  who  are  willing 
to  work  vigorously,  but  who  have  not  found  in  Europe 
opportunities  for  doing  BO,  a  sphere  of  action  is  certainly 
presented  in  America. 

America,  as  is  well  known,  is  divided  into  two  parts,  con- 
nected indeed  byan  isthmus,bufcwhich  has  not  been  the  means 
of  establishing  intercourse  between  them.  Rather,  these 
two  divisions  are  most  decidedly  distinct  from  each  other. 
North  America  shews  us  on  approaching  it,  along  its  eastern 
shore  a  wide  border  of  level  coast,  behind  which  is  stretched 
a  chain  of  mountains — the  blue  mountains  or  Apalachians; 
further  north  the  Alleghanies.  Streams  issuing  from  them 
water  the  country  towards  the  coast,  which  affords  advan- 


AMERICA.  87 

tages  of  the  moat  desirable  kind  to  the  United  States,  whose 
origin  belongs  to  this  region.  Behind  that  mountain-chain 
the  St.  Lawrence  river  flows,  (in  connection  with  huge 
lakes),  from  south  to  north,  and  on  this  river  lie  the  northern 
colonies  of  Canada.  Farther  west  we  meet  the  basin  of  the 
vast  Mississippi,  and  the  basins  of  the  Missouri  and  Ohio, 
which  it  receives,  and  then  debouches  into  the  bay  of  Mexico. 
On  the  western  side  of  this  region  we  have  in  like  manner 
a  long  mountain  chain,  running  through  Mexico  and  the 
Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  under  the  names  of  the  Andes  or 
Cordillera,  cutting  off  an  edge  of  coast  along  the  whole 
west  side  of  South  America.  The  border  formed  by  this  is 
narrower  and  offers  fewer  advantages  than  that  of  North 
America.  There'  lie  Peru  and  Chili.  On  the  east  side  flow 
eastwards  the  monstrous  streams  of  the  Orinoco  and  Ama- 
zons ;  they  form  great  valleys,  not  adapted  however  for 
cultivation,  since  they  are  only  wide  desert  steppes.  Towards 
the  south  flows  the  Bio  de  la  Plata,  whose  tributaries  have 
their  origin  partly  in  the  Cordilleras,  partly  in  the  northern 
chain  of  mountains  which  separates  the  basin  of  the  Ama- 
zons from  its  own.  To  the  district  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata 
belong  Brazil,  and  the  Spanish  Republics.  Columbia  is  the 
northern  coast-land  of  South  America,  at  the  west  of  which, 
flowing  along  the  Andes,  the  Magdalena  debouches  into  the 
Caribbean  Sea. 

With  the  exception  of  Brazil,  republics  have  come  to 
occupy  South  as  well  as  North  America.  In  comparing 
South  America  (reckoning  Mexico  as  part  of  it)  with  North 
America,  we  observe  an  astonishing  contrast. 

in  North  America  we  witness  a  prosperous  state  of  things, 
an  increase  of  industry  and  population,  civil  order  and  firm 
freedom ;  the  whole  federation  constitutes  but  a  single 
state,  and  has  its  political  centres.  In  South  America/on 
the  contrary,  the  republics  depend  only  on  military  force  ; 
their  whole  history  is  a  continued  revolution;  federated 
states  become  disunited  ;  others  previously  separated  become 
united ;  and  all  these  changes  originate  in  military  revolu- 
tions. The  more  special  differences  between  the  two  parts  of 
America  shew  us  two  opposite  directions,  the  one  in  political 
respects,  the  other  in  regard  to  religion.  South  America, 
where  the  Spaniards  settled  and  asserted  supremacy,  is  Ca- 
fchclic;  North  America,  although  a  land  of  sects  of  every  name. 


88  INTRODUCTION, 

is  yet  fundamentally,  Protestant.  A  wider  distinction  is  pre- 
sented in  the  fact,  that  South  America  was  conquered,  but 
North  America  colonised.  The  Spaniards  took  possession 
of  South  America  to  govern  it,  and  to  become  rich  through 
occupying  political  offices,  and  by  exactions.  Depending 
on  a  very  distant  mother-country,  their  desires  found  a 
larger  scope,  and  by  force  address  and  confidence  they  gained 
a  great  predominance  over  the  Indians.  The  North  Ameri- 
can States  were,  on  the  other  hand,  entirely  colonised,  by 
Europeans.  Since  in  England  Puritans,  Episcopalians,  and 
Catholics  were  engaged  in  perpetual  conflict,  and  now  one 
party,  now  the  other  had  the  upper  hand,  many  emigrated 
to  seek  religious  freedom  on  a  foreign  shore.  These  were 
industrious  Europeans,  who  betook  themselves  to  agriculture, 
tobacco  and  cotton  planting,  &c.  Soon  the  whole  attention 
of  the  inhabitants  was  given  to  labour,  and  the  basis  of  their 
existence  as  a  united  body  lay  in  the  necessities  that  bind 
man  to  man,  the  desire  of  repose,  the  establishment  of  civil 
rights,  security  and  freedom,  and  a  community  arising  from 
the  aggregation  of  individuals  as  atomic  constituents  ;  so  that 
the  state  was  merely  something  external  for  the  protection 
of  property.  From  the  Protestant  religion  sprang  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  mutual  confidence  of  individuals, — trust  in  the 
honourable  dispositions  of  other  men  ;  for  in  the  Protestant 
Church  the  entire  life — its  activity  generally — is  the  field 
for  what  it  deems  religious  works.  Among  Catholics,  on  the 
contrary,  the  basis  of  such  a  confidence  cannot  exist ;  for 
in  secular  matters  only  force  and  voluntary  subservience  are 
the  principles  of  action ;  and  the  forms  which  are  called 
Constitutions  are  in  this  case  only  a  resort  of  necessity,  and 
are  no  protection  against  mistrust. 

If  we  compare  North  America  further  with  Europe,  we 
shall  find  in  the  former  the  permanent  example  of  a  repub- 
lican constitution.  A  subjective  unity  presents  itself;  for 
there  is  a  President  at  the  head  of  the  State,  who,  for  the 
sake  of  security  against  any  monarchical  ambition,  id  chosen 
only  for  four  years.  Universal  protection  for  property,  and 
a  something  approaching  entire  immunity  from  public  bur- 
dens, are  facts  which  are  constantly  held  up  to  commenda- 
tion. We  have  in  these  facts  the  fundamental  character  of 
the  community, — the  endeavour  of  the  individual  after  ac- 
quisition, commercial  profit,  and  gain  ;  the  preponderance  of 


NORTH    AMERICA.  69 

ptivate  interest,  devoting  itself  to  that  of  the  community 
only  for  its  own  advantage.  "We  find,  certainly,  legal  rela- 
tions— a  formal  code  of  laws;  but  respect  for  law  exists 
apart  from  genuine  probity,  and  the  American  merchants 
commonly  lie  under  the  imputation  of  dishonest  dealings 
under  legal  protection.  If,  on  the  one  side,  the  Protestant 
Church  develops  the  essential  principle  of  confidence,  as 
already  stated,  it  thereby  involves  on  the  other  hand  the  re- 
cognition of  the  validity  of  the  element  of  feeling  to  such  a 
degree  as  gives  encouragement  to  unseemly  varieties  of 
caprice.  Those  who  adopt  this  stand-point  maintain,  that, 
as  every  one  may  have  his  peculiar  way  of  viewing  things 
generally,  so  he  may  have  also  a  religion  peculiar  to  himself. 
Thence  the  splitting  up  into  so  many  sects,  which  reach  the 
very  acme  of  absurdity ;  many  of  which  have  a  form  of 
worship  consisting  in  convulsive  movements,  and  sometimes 
in  the  most  sensuous  extravagances.  This  complete  freedom 
of  worship  is  developed  to  such  a  degree,  that  the  various  con- 
gregations choose  ministers  and  dismiss  them  accordingto  their 
absolute  pleasure;  for  theChurch  is  no  independent  existence, 
— having  a  substantial  spiritual  being,  and  correspondingly 
permanent  external  arrangement, — but  the  affairs  of  religion 
are  regulated  by  the  good  pleasure  for  the  time  being  of  the 
members  of  the  community.  In  North  America  the  most 
unbounded  licence  of  imagination  in  religious  matters  pre- 
vails, and  that  religious  unity  is  wanting  which  has  been 
maintained  in  European  States,  where  deviations  are  limited 
to  a  few  confessions.  As  to  the  political  condition  of  North 
America,  the  general  object  of  the  existence  of  this  State  is 
not  yet  fixed  and  determined,  aud  the  necessity  for  a  firm 
combination  does  not  yet  exist ;  for  a  real  State  and  a  real 
Government  arise  only  after  a  distinction  of  classes  has 
arisen,  when  wealth  and  poverty  become  extreme,  and  when 
such  a  condition  of  things  presents  itself  that  a  large  portion  of 
the  people  can  no  longer  satisfy  its  necessities  in  the  way  in 
which  it  has  been  accustomed  so  todo.  But  America  is  hitherto 
exempt  from  this  pressure,  for  it  has  the  outlet  of  coloniza- 
tion constantly  and  widely  open,  and  multitudes  are  con- 
tinually streaming  into  the  plains  of  the  Mississippi.  By 
this  means  the  chief  source  of  discontent  is  removed,  and  the 
continuation  of  the  existing  civil  condition  is  guaranteed.  A 
comparison  of  the  United  States  of  North  America  with' 


90  INTRODUCTION. 

European  lands  is  therefore  impossible ;  for  in  Europe,  such 
a  natural  outlet  for  population,  notwithstanding  all  the  emi- 
grations that  take  place,  does  not  exist.  Had  the  woods  of 
Germany  been  in  existence,  the  French  Revolution  would 
not  have  occurred.  North  America  will  be  comparable  with 
Europe  only  after  the  immeasurable  space  which  that 
country  presents  to  its  inhabitants  shall  have  been  occupied, 
and  the  members  of  the  political  body  shall  have  begun  to  be 
pressed  back  on  each  other.  North  America  is  still  in  the 
condition  of  having  land  to  begin  to  cultivate.  Only  when, 
as  in  Europe,  the  direct  increase  of  agriculturists  is  checked, 
will  the  inhabitants,  instead  of  pressing  outwards  to  occupy 
the  fields,  press  inwards  upon  each  other,  — pursuing  town 
occupations,  and  trading  with  their  fellow  citizens ;  and  so 
form  a  compact  system  of  civil  society,  and  require  an  organized 
state.  The  North  American  Federation  have  no  neighbouring 
State,  (towards  which  they  occupy  a  relation  similar  to  that  of 
European  States  to  each  other),  one  which  they  regard  with 
mistrust,  and  against  which  they  must  keep  up  a  standing 
army.  Canada  and  Mexico  are  not  objects  of  tear,  and  Eng- 
land has  had  fifty  years  experience,  that  free  America  is 
more  profitable  to  her  than  it  was  in  a  state  of  dependence. 
The  militia  of  the  North  American  Republic  proved  them- 
selves quite  as  brave  in  the  War  of  Independence,  as  the 
Dutch  under  Philip  II. ;  but  generally,  where  Independence 
is  not  at  stake,  less  power  is  displayed,  and  in  the  year  1814 
the  militia  held  out  but  indifferently  against  the  English. 

America  is  therefore  the  land  of  the  future,  where,  in  the 
ages  that  lie  before  us,  the  burden  of  the  World's  History 
shall  reveal  itself, — perhaps  in  a  contest  between  North  and 
South  America.  It  is  a  land  of  desire  for  all  those  who  are 
weary  of  the  historical  lumber-room  of  old  Europe.  Na- 
poleon is  reported  to  have  said,  "  Cette  vieille  Europe 
m'ennuie."  It  is  for  America  to  abandon  the  ground  on 
which  hitherto  the  History  of  the  World  has  developed  itself. 
What  has  taken  place  in  the  New  World  up  to  the  present 
time  is  only  an  echo  of  the  Old  World, — the  expression  of 
a  foreign  Life  ;  and  as  a  Land  of  the  Future,  it  has  no 
interest  for  us  here,  for,  as  regards  History,  our  concern 
must  be  with  that  which  has  been  and  that  which  is.  In  re- 
gard to  Philosophy,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  to  do  with 


THE   01/D   WORLD.  91 

that  which  (strictly  speaking)  is  neither  past  nor  future,  but 
with  thai  which  is,  which  has  an  eternal  existence — with 
Reason ;  and  this  is  quite  sufficient  to  occupy  us. 

Dismissing,  then,  the  New  World,  and  the  dreams  to 
which  it  may  give  rise,  we  pass  over  to  the  Old  World — the 
scene  of  the  World's  History  ;  and  must  first  direct  atten- 
tion to  the  natural  elements  and  conditions  of  existence 
which  it  presents.  America  is  divided  into  two  parts,  which 
are  indeed  connected  by  an  Isthmus,  but  which  forms 
only  an  external,  material  bond  of  union.  The  Old  World, 
on  the  contrary,  which  lies  opposite  to  America,  and  is  sepa- 
rated from  it  by  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  has  its  continuity  in- 
terrupted by  a  deep  inlet  — the  Mediterranean  Sea.  The 
three  Continents  that  compose  it  have  an  essential  relation 
to  each  other,  and  constitute  a  totality.  Their  peculiar  fea- 
ture is  that  they  lie  round  this  Sea,  and  therefore  have  an 
easy  means  of  communication  ;  for  rivers  and  seas  are  not  to 
be  regarded  as  disjoining,  but  as  uniting.  England  and 
Brittany,  Norway  and  Denmark,  Sweden  and  Livonia,  have 
been  united.  For  the  three  quarters  of  the  globe  the  Medi- 
terranean Sea  is  similarly  the  uniting  element,  and  the  centra 
of  World-History.  Greece  lies  here,  the  focus  of  light  in 
History.  Then  in  Syria  we  have  Jerusalem,  the  centre  of 
Judaism  and  of  Christianity  ;  south-east  of  it  lie  Mecca  and 
Medina,  the  cradle  of  the  Mussulman  faith ;  towards  the 
west  Delphi  and  Athens  ;  farther  west  still,  Rome :  on  the 
Mediterranean  Sea  we  have  also  Alexandria  and  Carthage. 
The  Mediterranean  is  thus  the  heart  of  the  Old  World,  for  it 
is  that  which  conditioned  and  vitalized  it.  Without  it  the 
History  of  the  World  could  not  be  conceived :  it  would  be 
like  ancient  Rome  or  Athens  without  the  forum,  where  all 
the  life  of  the  city  came  together.  The  extensive  tract  of 
eastern  Asia  is  severed  from  the  process  of  general  historical 
development,  and  has  no  share  in  it ;  so  also  Northern  Europe, 
which  took  part  in  the  World's  History  only  at  a  later  date, 
and  had  no  part  in  it  while  the  Old  World  lasted  ;  for  this  was 
exclusively  limited  to  the  countries  lying  round  the  Mediter- 
ranean Sea.  Julius  Csesar's  crossing  the  Alps — the  conquest 
of  Gaul  and  the  relation  into  which  the  Germans  thereby 
entered  with  the  Roman  Empire— makes  consequently  an 
epoch  in  History  ;  for  in  virtue  of  this  it  begins  to  extend  iti 


92  INTRODUCTION. 

boundaries  beyond  the  Alps.  Eastern  Asia  and  that  trans- 
Alpine  country  are  the  extremes  of  this  agitated  focus  of 
human  life  around  the  Mediterranean, — the  beginning  and 
end  of  History, — its  rise  and  decline. 

The  more  special  geographical  distinctions  must  now  be 
established,  and  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  essential,  rational 
distinctions,  in  contrast  with  the  variety  of  merely  accidental 
circumstances.  Of  these  characteristic  differences  there  are 
three : — 

(1.)  The  arid  elevated  land  with  its  extensive  steppes  and 
plains. 

( 2.)  The  valley  plains, — the  Land  of  Transition  permeated 
and  watered  by  great  Streams. 

(3.)  The  coast  region  in  immediate  connection  with  the  sea. 

These  three  geographical  elements  are  the  essential  ones, 
and  we  shall  see  each  quarter  of  the  globe  triply  divided  ac- 
cordingly. The  first  is  the  substantial,  unvarying,  metallic, 
elevated  region,  intractably  shut  up  within  itself,  but  per- 
haps adapted  to  send  forth  impulses  over  the  rest  of  the 
world  ;  the  second  forms  centres  of  civilization,  and  is  the  yet 
undeveloped  independence  [of  humanity]  ;  the  third  offers 
the  means  of  connecting  the  world  together,  and  of  main- 
taining the  connection. 

(1.)  The  elevated  land.  "We  see  such  a  description  of 
country  in  middle  Asia  inhabited  by  Mongolians,  (using  the 
word  in  a  general  sense)  :  from  the  Caspian  Sea  these  Steppes 
stretch  in  a  northerly  direction  towards  the  Black  Sea. 
As  similar  tracts  may  be  cited  the  deserts  of  Arabia  and  of 
Barbary  in  Africa  ;  in  South  America  the  country  round  the 
Orinoco,  and  in  Paraguay.  The  peculiarity  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  elevated  region,  which  is  watered  sometimes 
only  by  rain,  or  by  the  overflowing  of  a  river,  (as  .  are  the 
plains  of  the  Orinoco) — is  the  patriarchal  life,  the  division 
into  single  families  The  region  which  these  families  occupv 
is  unfruitful  or  productive  only  temporarily  :  the  inhabitants 
have  their  property  not  in  the  land, — from  which  they  derive 
only  a  trifling  profit, — but  in  the  animalti  that  wander  with 
them.  For  a  long  time  these  find  pasture  iu  the  plains,  and 
when  they  are  depastured,  the  tribe  moves  to  other  parts  of 
the  country.  They  are  careless  and  provide  nothing  for  the 
winter,  on  which  account  therefore,  half  of  the  herd  is  fro 


GEOGRAPHICAL  DIVISIONS.  93 

quently  cut  off.  Among  these  inhabitants  of  the  upland  there 
exist  no  legal  relations,  and  consequently  there  are  exhibited 
among  them  the  extremes  of  hospitality  and  rapine ;  the  last 
more  especially  when  they  are  surrounded  by  civilized  na- 
tions, as  the  Arabians,  who  are  assisted  in  their  depredations 
by  their  horses  and  camels.  The  Mongolians  feed  on  mare's 
milk,  and  thus  the  horse  supplies  them  at  the  same  time  with 
appliances  for  nourishment  and  for  war.  Although  this  is 
the  form  of  their  patriarchal  life,  it  often  happens  that  they 
cohere  together  in  great  masses,  and  by  an  impulse  of  one 
kind  or  another,  are  excited  to  external  movement.  Though 
previously  of  peaceful  disposition,  they  then  rush  as  a  devas- 
tating inundation  over  civilized  lands,  and  the  revolution 
which  ensues  has  no  other  result  than  destruction  and  deso- 
lation. Such  an  agitation  was  excited  among  those  tribes 
under  Zengis  Khan  arid  Tamerlane :  they  destroyed  all 
before  them  ;  then  vanished  again,  as  does  an  overwhelming 
Forest-torrent, — possessing  no  inherent  principle  of  vitality. 
From  the  uplands  they  rush  down  into  the  dells  :  there  dwell 
peaceful  mountaineers, — herdsmen  who  also  occupy  them- 
selves with  agriculture,  as  do  the  Swiss.  Asia  has  also  such 
a  people :  they  are  however  on  the  whole  a  less  important 
element. 

(2.)  The  valley  plains.  These  are  plains,  permeated  by 
rivers,  and  which  owe  the  whole  of  their  fertility  to  the 
streams  by  which  they  are  formed.  Such  a  Valley-Plain  is 
China, — India,  traversed  by  the  Indus  and  the  Granges,— 
Babylonia,  where  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  flow, — Egypt* 
watered  by  the  Nile.  In  these  regions  extensive  Kingdoms 
arise,  and  the  foundation  of  great  States  begins.  For  agri- 
culture, which  prevails  here  as  the  primary  principle  of 
subsistence  for  individuals,  is  assisted  by  the  regularity  of 
seasons,  which  require  corresponding  agricultural  operations ; 
property  in  land  commences,  and  the  consequent  legal  rela- 
tions;— that  is  to  say,  the  basis  and  foundation  of  the  State, 
which  becomes  possible,  only  in  connection  with  such 
relations. 

(3.)  The  coast  land.  A  Biver  divides  districts  of  country 
from  each  other,  but  still  more  does  the  sea ;  and  we  afe 
Accustomed  to  regard  water  as  the  separating  element. 
Especially  in  recent  times  hab  U  been  insisted  upon  that  States 


F4  I5TBODTJCTI01C. 

un reflected  character  of  mere  nature.  Nature  is  therefore 
one  element  in  this  antithetic  abstracting  process  ;  Nature  is 
the  first  stand  point  from  which  man  can  gain  freedom  within 
himself,  and  this  liberation  must  not  be  rendered  difficult  by 
natural  obstructions.  Nature,  as  contrasted  with  Spirit,  is  a 
quantitative  mass,  whose  power  must  not  be  so  great  as 
to  make  its  single  force  omnipotent.  In  the  extreme  zones 
man  cannot  come  to  free  movement ;  cold  and  heat  are  here 
too  powerful  to  allow  Spirit  to  build  up  a  world  for  itself. 
Aristotle  said  long  ago,  "  AVhen  pressing  needs  are  satisfied, 
man  turns  to  the  general  and  more  elevated."  But  in  the 
extreme  zones  such  pressure  may  be  said  never  to  cease, 
never  to  be  warded  off;  men  are  constantly  impelled  to 
direct  attention  to  nature,  to  the  glowing  rays  of  the  sun, 
and  the  icy  frost.  The  true  theatre  of  History  is  therefore 
the  temperate  zone ;  or  rather,  its  northern  half,  because 
the  earth  there  presents  itself  in  a  continental  form,  and  has- 
a  broad  breast,  as  the  Greeks  say.  In  the  south,  on  the 
contrary,  it  divides  itself,  and  runs  out  into  many  points. 
The  same  peculiarity  shews  itself  in  natural  products.  The 
north  has  many  kinds  of  animals  and  plants  with  common 
characteristics;  in  the  south,  where  the  land  divides  itself 
into  points,  natural  forms  also  present  individual  features 
contrasted  with  each  other. 

The  World  is  divided  into  Old  and  New ;  the  name  of  New 
having  originated  in  the  fact  that  America  and  Australia 
have  only  lately  became  known  to  us.  But  these  parts  of 
the  wrorld  are  not  only  relatively  new,  but  intrinsically  so  in 
respect  of  their  entire  physical  and  psychical  constitution. 
Their  geological  antiquity  we  have  nothing  to  do  with.  I 
will  not  deny  the  New  World  the  honour  of  having  emerged 
from  the  sea  at  the  world's  formation  contemporaneously 
with  the  old :  yet  the  Archipelago  between  South  America 
and  Asia  shews  a  physical  immaturity.  The  greater  part  of 
the  islands  are  so  constituted,  that  they  are,  as  it  were,  only 
a  superficial  deposit  of  earth  over  rocks,  which  shoot  up  from 
the  fathomless  deep,  and  bear  the  character  of  novel  origina- 
tion. New  Holland  shews  a  not  less  immature  geographical 
character;  for  in  penetrating  from  the  settlements  of  the 
English  farther  into  the  country,  we  discover  immense 
streams,  which  have  not  yet  developed  themselves  to  such  a 


THE    NEW    WOBLD.  35 

degree  as  to  dig  a  channel  for  themselves,  but  lose  them- 
selves in  marshes.  Of  America  and  its  grade  of  civilization, 
especially  in  Mexico  and  Peru,  we  have  information,  but 
it  imports  nothing  more  than  that  this  culture  was  an 
entirely  national  one,  which  must  expire  as  soon  as  Spirit 
approached  it.  America  has  always  shewn  itself  physically 
and  psychically  powerless,  and  still  shews  itself  so.  For  the 
aborigines,  after  the  landing  of  the  Europeans  in  America, 
gradually  vanished  at  the  breath  of  European  activity.  In 
the  United  States  of  North  America  all  the  citizens  are  of 
European  descent,  with  whom  the  old  inhabitants  could  not 
amalgamate,  but  were  driven  back.  The  aborigines  have 
certainly  adopted  some  arts  and  usages  from  the  Europeans, 
among  others  that  of  brandy-drinking,  which  has  operated 
with  deadly  effect.  In  the  South  the  natives  were  treated 
with  much  greater  violence,  and  employed  in  hard  labours  to 
which  their  strength  was  by  no  means  competent.  A  mild 
and  passionless  disposition,  want  of  spirit,  and  a  crouching 
submissiveriess  towards  a  Creole,  and  still  more  towards  a 
European,  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  native  Ameri- 
cans ;  and  it  will  be  long  before  the  Europeans  succeed  in 
producing  any  independence  of  feeling  in  them.  The  infe- 
riority of  these  individuals  in  all  respects,  even  in  regard  to 
size,  is  very  manifest ;  only  the  quite  southern  races  in 
Patagonia  are  more  vigorous  natures,  but  still  abiding  in 
their  natural  condition  of  rudeness  and  barbarism.  When  the 
Jesuits  and  the  Catholic  clergy  proposed  to  accustom  the  In- 
dians to  European  culture  and  manners  (they  have,  as  is  well 
known,  founded  a  state  in  Paraguay  and  convents  in  Mexico 
and  California),  they  commenced  a*close  intimacy  with  them, 
and  prescribed  for  them  the  duties  of  the  day,  which,  sloth- 
ful though  their  disposition  was,  they  complied  with  un-der  the 
authority  of  the  Friars.  These  prescripts,  (at  midnight  a  bell 
had  to  remind  them  even  of  their  matrimonial  duties,)  were 
first,  and  very  wisely,  directed  to  the  creation  of  wants— the 
springs  of  human  activity,  generally.  The  weakness  of  the 
American  physique  was  a  chief  reason  for  bringing  the 
negroes  to  America,  to  employ  their  labour  in  the  work  that 
had  to  be  done  in  the  New  World ;  for  the  negroes  are  far 
more  susceptible  of  European  culture  than  the  Indians,  and 
an  English  traveller  lias  adduced  instance?  of  negroes  having 


96  I1TT110DUCTION. 

dafu  for  another)  is  on  two  sides  so  constituted  for  the 
most  part,  as  to  have  a  very  narrow  Coast  Tract,  habitable 
only  in  a  few  isolated  spots.  Next  to  this  towards  the  interior, 
follows  to  almost  the  same  extent,  a  girdle  of  marsh  land 
with  the  most  luxuriant  vegetation,  the  especial  home  of 
ravenous  beasts,  snakes  of  all  kinds, — a  border  tract  whose 
atmosphere  is  poisonous  to  Europeans.  This  border  con- 
stitutes the  base  of  a  cincture  of  high  mountains,  which 
are  only  at  distant  intervals  traversed  by  streams,  and 
where  they  are  so,  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  no  means  of 
vn lion  with  the  interior ;  for  the  interruption  occurs  but 
seldom  below  the  upper  part  of  the  mountain  ranges, 
and  only  in  individual  narrow  channels,  where  are  frequently 
found  innavigable  waterfalls  and  torrents  crossing  each  other 
in  wild  confusion.  During  the  three  or  three  and  a  half  cen- 
turies that  the  Europeans  have  known  this  border-land  and 
.have  taken  places  in  it  into  their  possession,  they  have  only 
here  and  there  (and  that  but  for  a  short  time)  passed  these 
mountains,  and  have  nowhere  settled  down  beyond  them. 
The  land  surrounded  by  these  mountains  is  an  unknown 
Upland,  from  which  on  the  other  hand  the  Negroes  have 
.seldom  made  their  way  through,  in  the  sixteenth  century 
occurred  at  many  very  distant  points,  outbreaks  ce  terrible 
hordes  which  rushed  down  upon  the  more  peaceful  inhabi- 
tants of  the  declivities.  Whether  any  internal  movement  had 
taken  place, or  if  so,  of  what  character,  we  do  not  know.  "What 
we  do  know  of  these  hordes,  is  the  contrast  between  their  con- 
duct in  their  wars  and  forays  themselves, — which  exhibited 
the  most  reckless  inhumanity  and  disgusting  barbarism, — and 
the  fact  that  afterwards,  when  their  rage  was  spent,  in  the  calm 
time  of  peace,  they  shewed  themselves  mild  and  well  disposed 
towards  the  Europeans,  when  they  became  acquainted  with 
them.  This  holds  good  of  the  Fullahs  and  of  the  Mandingo 
tribes,  who  inhabit  the  mountain  terraces  of  the  Senegal 
and  Gambia.  The  second  portion  of  Africa  is  the  river 
district  of  the  Nile, — Egypt ;  which  was  adapted  to  become  a 
mighty  centre-jof  independent  civilization,  and  therefore  is  as 
isolated  and  singular  in  Africa  as  Africa  itself  appears  in  rela- 
tion to  the  other  parts  of  the  world.  The  northern  part  of 
Africa,  which  may  be  specially  called  that  of  the  coast-terri- 
tory, (for  Egypt  has  been  frequently  driven  back  on  itself,  by 


A.FETC*..  97 

the  Mediterranean)  lies  on  the  Mediterranean  and  the 
Atlantic  ;  a  magnificent  territory,  on  which  Carthage  once 
lay, — the  site  of  the  modern  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis,  and 
Tripoli.  This  part  was  to  be — must  be  attached  to 
Europe :  the  French  have  lately  made  a  successful  effort  in 
this  direction :  like  Hither-Asia,  it  looks  Europe-wards. 
H  ere  in  their  turn  have  Carthaginians,  Romans  and  Byzan- 
tines, Mussulman,  Arabians,  had  their  abode,  and  the 
interests  of  Europe  have  always  striven  to  get  a  footing 
in  it. 

The  peculiarly  African  character  is  difficult  to  comprehend, 
for  the  very  reason  that  in  reference  to  it,  we  must  quite  give 
up  the  principle  which  naturally  accompanies  a\\our  ideas, — 
the  category  of  Universality.  In  Negro  life  the  characteristic 
point  is  the  fact  that  consciousness  has  not  yet  attained  to 
the  realization  of  any  substantial  objective  existence, — as  for 
example,  God,  or  Law, — in  which  the  interest  of  man's  voli- 
tion is  involved  and  in  which  he  realizes  his  own  being.  This 
distinction  between  himself  as  an  individual  and  the  univer- 
sality of  his  essential  being,  the  African  in  the  uniform,  unde- 
veloped oneness  of  his  existence  has  not  yet  attained  ;  so  that 
the  Knowledge  of  an  absolute  Being,  an  Other  and  a  Higher 
than  his  individual  self,  is  entirely  wanting.  The  Negro, 
as  already  observed,  exhibits  the  natural  man  in  his  com- 
pletely wild  and  untamed  state.  We  must  lay  aside  all  thought 
of  reverence  and  morality — all  that  we  call  feeling — if  we 
would  rightly  comprehend  him ;  there  is  nothing  harmonious 
with  humanity  to  be  found  in  this  type  of  character.  The 
copious  and  circumstantial  accounts  of  Missionaries  com- 
pletely confirm  this,  and  Mahommedanism  appears  to  be  the 
only  thing  which  in  any  way  brings  the  Negroes  within  the 
range  of  culture.  The  Mahommedans  too  understand  better 
than  the  Europeans,  how  to  penetrate  into  the  interior  of  the 
country.  The  grade  of  culture  which  the  Negroes  occupy 
may  be  more  nearly  appreciated  by  considering  the  aspect 
which  Religion  presents  among  them.  That  which  forma 
the  basis  of  religious  conceptions  is  the  consciousness  on  the 
part  of  man  of  a  Higher  Power — even  though  this  is  con- 
ceived only  as  a  vis  natures — in  relation  to  which  he  feels 
himself  a  weaker,  humbler  being.  Religion  begins  with  tho 
sousciousness  that  there  is  something  higher  tbac  xnau. 

H 


98  INTEODUCTIOK. 

But  even  Herodotus  called  the  Negroes  sorcerers  : — now  in 
Sorcery  we  have  not  the  idea  of  a  God,  of  a  moral  faith  ;  it 
exhibits  man  as  the  highest  power,  regarding  him  as  alone 
occupying  a  position  of  command  over  the  power  of  Nature. 
"We  have  here  therefore  nothing  to  do  with  a  spiritual  adora- 
tion of  God,  nor  with  an  empire  of  Eight.  God  thunders, 
but  is  not  on  that  account  recognized  as  God.  For  the  soul 
of  man,  God  must  be  more  than  a  thunderer,  whereas  among 
the  Negroes  this  is  not  the  case.  Although  they  are  necessa- 
rily conscious  of  dependence  upon  nature, — for  they  need  the 
beneficial  influence  of  storm,  rain,  cessation  of  the  rainy 
period,  and  so  on, — yet  this  does  not  conduct  them  to  the 
consciousness  of  a  Higher  Power :  it  is  they  who  command 
the  elements,  and  this  they  call  "  magic."  The  Kings  have 
a  class  of  ministers  through  whom  they  command  elemental 
Changes,  and  every  place  possesses  such  magicians,  who 
perform  special  ceremonies,  with  all  sorts  of  gesticulations, 
dances,  uproar,  and  shouting,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  con- 
fusion commence  their  incantations.  The  second  element 
in  their  religion,  consists  in  their  giving  an  outward  form  tc 
this  supernatural  power—  projecting  their  hidden  might  into 
the  world  of  phenomena  by  means  of  images.  What  they 
conceive  of  as  the  power  in  question,  is  therefore  nothing 
really  objective,  having  a  substantial  being  and  different 
from  themselves,  but  the  first  thing  that  comes  in  their  way. 
This,  taken  quite  indiscriminately,  they  exalt  to  the  dignity 
of  a  "  Genius ;"  it  may  be  an  animal,  a  tree,  a  stone,  or 
a  wooden  figure.  This  is  their  Fetish — a  word  to  which 
the  Portuguese  first  gave  currency,  and  which  is  derived  from 
feitizo,  magic.  Here,  in  the  Fetish,  a  kind  of  objective  in* 
dependence  as  contrasted  with  the  arbitrary  fancy  of  the 
individual  seems  to  manifest  itself ;  but  as  the  objectivity  is 
nothing  other  than  the  fancy  of  the  individual  projecting 
itself  into  space,  the  human  individuality  remains  master  of 
the  image  it  has  adopted.  If  any  mischance  occurs  which 
the  Fetish  has  not  averted,  if  rain  is  suspended,  if  there 
is  a  failure  in  the  crops,  they  bind  and  beat  or  destroy 
the  Fetish  and  so  get  rid  of  it,  making  another  immediately, 
and  thus  holding  it  in  their  own  power.  Such  a  Fetish  has 
no  independence  as  an  object  of  religious  worship ;  still  less 
has  it  aesthetic  independence  as  a  work  of  art ;  it  is  mew -iy  i 


AFRICA,  9S 

creation  that  expresses  the  arbitrary  choice  of  its  maker,  and 
which  always  remains  in  his  hands.  In  short  there  is  no  re- 
lation of  dependence  in  this  religion.  There  is  however  one 
feature  that  points  to  something  beyond  ; — the  Worship  of 
the  Dead, — in  which  their  deceased  forefathers  and  ancestors 
are  regarded  by  them  as  a  power  influencing  the  living. 
Their  idea  in  the  matter  is  that  these  ancestors  exercise 
vengeance  and  inflict  upon  man  various  injuries — exactly  m 
the  sense  in  which  this  was  supposed  of  witches  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Yet  the  power  of  the  dead  is  not  held  superior  to 
that  of  the  living,  for  the  Negroes  command  the  dead  and 
lay  spells  upon  them.  Thus  the  power  in  question  remains 
substantially  always  in  bondage  to  the  living  subject. 
Death  itself  is  looked  upon  by  the  Negroes  as  no  universal 
natural  law ;  even  this,  they  think,  proceeds  from  evil- 
disposed  magicians.  In  this  doctrine  is  certainly  involved 
the  elevation  of  man  over  Nature  ;  to  such  a  degree  that  the 
chance  volition  of  man  is  superior  to  the  merely  natural, — 
that  he  looks  upon  this  as  an  instrument  to  which  he  does 
nut  pay  the  compliment  of  treating  it  in  a  way  conditioned 
by  itself,  but  which  he  commands.* 

But  from  the  fact  that  man  is  regarded  as  the  Highest,  it 
follows  that  he  has  no  respect  for  himself ;  for  only  with  the 
consciousness  of  a  Higher  Being  does  he  reach  a  point  of  view 
which  inspires  him  with  real  reverence.  For  if  arbitrary  choice 
is  the  absolute,  the  only  substantial  objectivity  that  is  real- 
ized, the  mind  cannot  in  such  be  conscious  of  any  Univer- 
sality. The  Negroes  indulge,  therefore,  that  perfect  contempt 
for  humanity,  which  in  its  bearing  on  Justice  and  Morality  is 
the  fundamental  characteristic  of  the  race.  They  have  more- 
over no  knowledge  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  although 
spectres  are  supposed  to  appear.  The  undervaluing  of 
humanity  among  them  reaches  an  incredible  degree  of 
intensity.  Tyranny  is  regarded  as  no  wrong,  and  cannibalism 
is  looked  upon  as  quite  customary  and  proper.  Among  us 
instinct  deters  from  it,  if  we  can  speak  of  instinct  at  all  as 
appertaining  to  man.  But  with  the  Negro  this  is  not  the 
case,  and  the  devouring  of  human  flesh  is  altogether  conso- 
nant with  the  general  principles  of  the  African  race ;  to  the 

*  Vide  Hegel's  "  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  Philosophic  dei  Religion,"  L  284 
and  S89.     2nd  Ed. 


100  INTRODUCTION. 

sensual  Negro,  human  flesh  is  but  an  object  of  sense— mera 
flesh.  A.t  the  death  of  a  King  hundreds  are  killed  and  eaten ; 
prisoners  are  butchered  and  their  flesh  sold  in  the  markets ; 
the  victor  is  accustomed  to  eat  the  heart  of  his  slain  foe. 
When  magical  rites  are  performed,  it  frequently  happens 
that  the  sorcerer  kills  the  first  that  comes  in  his  way  and 
divides  his  body  among  the  bystanders.  Another  character- 
istic fact  in  reference  to  the  Negroes  is  Slavery.  Negroes  are 
enslaved  by  Europeans  and  sold  to  America.  Bad  as 
this  may  be,  their  lot  in  their  own  land  is  even  worse, 
since  there  a  slavery  quite  as  absolute  exists ;  for  it  is  the 
essential  principle  of  slavery,  that  man  has  not  yet  attained 
a  consciousness  of  his  freedom,  and  consequently  sinks  down 
to  a  mere  Thing—  an  object  of  no  value.  Among  the  Negroes 
moral  sentiments  are  quite  weak,  or  more  strictly  speaking, 
non-existent.  Parents  sell  their  children,  and  conversely 
children  their  parents,  as  either  has  the  opportunity. 
Through  the  pervading  influence  of  slavery  all  those  bonds 
of  moral  regard  which  we  cherish  towards  each  other  disap- 
pear, and  it  does  not  occur  to  the  Negro  mind  to  expect 
from  others  what  we  are  enabled  to  claim.  The  polygamy 
of  the  Negroes  has  frequently  for  its  object  the  having  many 
children,  to  be  sold,  every  one  of  them,  into  slavery  ;  and  very 
often  naive  complaints  on  this  score  are  heard,  as  for  instance 
in  the  case  of  a  Negro  in  London,  who  lamented  that  he  was 
now  quite  a  poor  man  because  he  had  already  sold  all  his 
relations.  In  the  contempt  of  humanity  displayed  by  the 
Negroes,  it  is  not  so  much  a  despising  of  death  as  a  want  of 
regard  for  life  that  forms  the  characteristic  feature.  To  this 
want  of  regard  for  life  must  be  ascribed  the  great  courage, 
supported  by  enormous  bodily  strength,  exhibited  by  the 
Negroes,  who  allow  themselves  to  be  shot  down  by  thou- 
sands in  war  with  Europeans.  Life  has  a  value  only  when 
it  has  something  valuable  as  its  object. 

Turning  our  attention  in  the  next  place  to  the  category  of 
political  constitution,  we  shall  see  that  the  entire  nature  of  this 
race  is  such  as  to  preclude  the  existence  of  any  such  arrange- 
ment. The  stand-point  of  humanity  at  this  grade  is  mere 
sensuous  volition  with  energy  of  will;  since  universal  spiritual 
/aws  (for  example,  that  of  the  morality  of  the  Family)  cannot 
be  recognized  here.  Universality  exists  only  as  arbitrary 


AFRICA.  10 1 

subjective  choice.  The  political  bond  can  therefore  not 
possess  such  a  character  as  that  free  laws  should  unite  the  com- 
munity. There  is  absolutely  no  bond,  no  restraint  upon  thjat 
arbitrary  volition.  Nothing  but  external  force  can  hold  the 
State  together  for  a  moment.  A  ruler  stands  at  the  head,  for 
sensuous  barbarism  can  only  be  restrained  by  despotic  power. 
But  since  the  subjects  are  of  equally  violent  temper  with  their 
master,  they  keep  him  on  the  other  hand  within  limits. 
Under  the  chief  there  are  many  other  chiefs  with  whom 
the  former,  whom  we  will  call  the  King,  takes  counsel,  and 
whose  consent  he  must  seek  to  gain,  if  he  wishes  to  under- 
take a  war  or  impose  a  tax.  In  this  relation  he  can  exercise 
more  or  less  authority,  and  by  fraud  or  force  can  on  occasion 
put  this  or  that  chieftain  out  of  the  way.  Besides  this  the 
Kings  have  other  specified  prerogatives.  Among  the  Ash- 
antees  the  King  inherits  all  the  property  left  by  his  subjects 
at  their  death.  In  other  places  all  unmarried  women  belong 
to  the  King,  and  whoever  wishes  a  wife,  must  buy  her  from 
him.  If  the  Negroes  are  discontented  with  their  King  they 
depose  and  kill  him.  In  Dahomey,  when  they  are  thus 
displeased,  the  custom  is  to  send  parrots'  eggs  to  the  King, 
as  a  sign  of  dissatisfaction  with  his  government.  Sometimes 
also  a  deputation  is  sent,  which  intimates  to  him,  that  the 
burden  of  government  must  have  been  very  troublesome  to 
him,  and  that  he  had  better  rest  a  little.  The  King  then 
thanks  his  subjects,  goes  into  his  apartments,  and  has  himself 
strangled  by  the  women.  Tradition  alleges  that  in  former 
times  a  state  composed  of  women  made  itself  famous  by  its 
conquests :  it  was  a  state  at  whose  head  was  a  woman.  She 
is  said  to  have  pounded  her  own  son  in  a  mortar,  to  have 
besmeared  herself  with  the  blood,  and  to  have  had  the  blood 
of  pounded  children  constantly  at  hand.  She  is  said  to 
have  driven  away  or  pat  to  death  all  the  males,  and  com- 
manded the  death  of  all  male  children.  These  furies 
destroyed  everything  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  were  driven 
to  constant  plunderings,  because  they  did  not  cultivate  the 
land.  Captives  in  war  were  taken  as  husbands  :  pregnant 
women  had  to  betake  themselves  outside  the  encampment ; 
and  if  they  had  born  a  son,  put  him  out  of  the  way.  Thia 
infamous  state,  the  report  goes  on  to  say,  subsequently  dis- 
appeared. Accompanying  the  King  we  constantly  find  in 


102  INTRODUCTION. 

Negro  States,  the  executioner,  whose  office  is  regarded  as  of 
the  highest  consideration,  and  by  whose  hands  the  King, 
though  he  makes  use  of  him  for  putting  suspected  persons  to 
death,  may  himself  suffer  death,  if  the  grandees  desire  it. 
Fanaticism,  which,  notwithstanding  the  yielding  disposition 
of  the  Negro  in  other  respects,  can  be  excited,  surpasses, 
when  roused,  all  belief.  An  English  traveller  states  that 
when  a  war  is  determined  on  in  Ashantee,  solemn  ceremonies 
precede  it :  among  other  things  the  bones  of  the  King's 
mother  are  laved  with  human  blood.  As  a  prelude  to  the  war, 
the  King  ordains  an  onslaught  upon  his  own  metropolis,  as 
if  to  excite  the  due  degree  of  frenzy.  The  King  sent  word 
to  the  English  Hutchinson :  "  Christian,  take  care,  and 
watch  well  over  your  family.  The  messenger  of  death  has 
drawn  his  sword  and  will  strike  the  neck  of  many  Ashantees ; 
when  the  drum  sounds  it  is  the  death  signal  for  multitudes. 
Come  to  the  King,  if  you  can,  and  fear  nothing  for  yourself." 
The  drum  beat,  and  a  terrible  carnage  was  begun  ;  all  who 
came  in  the  way  of  the  frenzied  Negroes  in  the  streets 
were  stabbed.  On  such  occasions  the  King  has  all  whom  he 
suspects  killed,  and  the  deed  then  assumes  the  character  of 
a  sacred  act.  Every  idea  thrown  into  the  mind  of  the  Negro 
is  caught  up  and  realized  with  the  whole  energy  of  his  will ; 
but  this  realization  involves  a  wholesale  destruction.  These 
people  continue  long  at  rest,  but  suddenly  their  passions  fer- 
ment, and  then  they  are  quite  besides  themselves.  The  destruc- 
tion which  is  the  consequence  of  their  excitement,  is  caused 
by  the  fact  that  it  is  no  positive  idea,  no  thought  which  pro- 
duces these  commotions  ; — a  physical  rather  than  a  spiritual 
enthusiasm.  In  Dahomey,  when  the  King  dies,  the  bonds 
of  society  are  loosed ;  in  his  palace  begins  indiscriminate 
havoc  and  disorganization.  All  the  wives  of  the  King  (in 
Dahomey  their  number  is  exactly  3333)  are  massacred,  and 
through  the  whole  town  plunder  and  carnage  run  riot.  The 
wives  of  the  King  regard  this  their  death  as  a  necessity  ; 
they  go  richly  attired  to  meet  it.  The  authorities  have  to 
hasten  to  proclaim  the  new  governor,  simply  to  put  a  stop  to 
massacre. 

From  these  various  traits  it  is  manifest  that  want  of  self- 
control  distinguishes  the  character  of  the  Negroes.  This 
condition  is  capable  of  no  development  or  culture,  and  as 


URICA.  103 

we  see  them  at  this  day,  such  have  they  always  been.  The 
only  essential  connection  that  has  existed  and  continued  be- 
tween the  Negroes  and  the  Europeans  is  that  of  slavery.  In 
this  the  Negroes  see  nothing  unbecoming  them,  and  the  Eng- 
lish who  have  done  most  for  abolishing  the  slave-trade  and 
slavery,  are  treated  by  the  Negroes  themselves  as  enemies. 
Eor  it  is  a  point  of  first  importance  with  the  Kings  to  «ell  their 
captured  enemies,  or  even  their  own  subjects  ;  and  viewed  in 
the  light  of  such  facts,  we  may  conclude  slavery  to  have  been 
the  occasion  of  the  increase  of  human  feeling  among  the 
Negroes.  The  doctrine  which  we  deduce  from  this  condition 
of  slavery  among  the  N  egroes,  ana  which  constitutes  the  only 
side  of  the  question  that  has  an  interest  for  our  enquiry,  is  that 
which  we  deduce  from  the  IDEA  :  viz.  that  the  '.'  Natural  con- 
dition" itself  is  one  of  absolute  and  thorough  injustice — con- 
travention of  the  Eight  arid  Just.  Every  intermediate  grade 
between  this  and  the  realization  of  a  rational  State  retains — 
as  might  be  expected — elements  and  aspects  of  injustice; 
thereforewe  find  slavery  even  in  the  Greekand  Eoman  States, 
as  we  do  serfdom  down  to  the  latest  times.  But  thus  existing 
in  a  State,  slavery  is  itself  a  phase  of  advance  from  the  merely 
isolated  sensual  existence, — a  phase  of  education, — a  mode 
of  becoming  participant  in  a  higher  morality  and  the  culture 
connected  with  it.  Slavery  is  in  and  for  itself  injustice,  for 
the  essence  of  humanity  is  Freedom  ;  but  for  this  man  must 
be  matured.  The  gradual  abolition  of  slavery  is  therefore 
wiser  and  more  equitable  than  its  sudden  removal. 

At  this  point  we  leave  Africa,  not  to  mention  it  again. 
For  it  is  no  historical  part  of  the  World  ;  it  has  no  move- 
ment or  development  to  exhibit.  Historical  movements  in 
it — that  is  in  its  northern  part — belong  to  the  Asiatic 
or  European  World.  Carthage  displayed  there  an  important 
transitiouary  phase  of  civilization ;  'but,  as  a  Phoenician 
colony,  it  belongs  to  Asia.  Egypt  will  be  considered  in  re- 
ference to  the  passage  of  the  human  mind  from  its  Eastern 
to  its  Western  phase,  but  it  does  not  belong  to  the  African 
Spirit.  What  we  properly  understand  by  Africa,  is  the 
Unhistorical,  Undeveloped  Spirit,  still  involved  in  the  condi- 
tions of  mere  nature,  and  which  had  to  be  presented  here 
only  as  on  the  threshold  of  the  World's  History. 

Having  eliminated   this   introductory    element,   we  and 


104  INTRODUCTION. 

ourselves  for  the  first  time  on  the  real  theatre  of  History. 
It  now  only  remains  for  us  to  give  a  prefatory  sketch  of 
the  G-eographical  basis  of  the  Asiatic  and  European  world. 
Asia  is,  characteristically,  the  Orient  quarter  of  the  globe, — 
the  region  of  origination.  It  is  indeed  a  "Western  world  for 
America  ;  but  as  Europe  presents  on  the  whole,  the  centre 
and  end  of  the  old  world,  and  is  absolutely  the  West, — so 
Asia  is  absolutely  the  East. 

In  Asia  arose  the  Light  of  Spirit,  and  therefore  the  hia« 
tory  of  the  "World. 

We  must  now  consider  the  various  localities  of  Asia.  Its 
physical  constitution  presents  direct  antitheses,  and  the 
essential  relation  of  these  antitheses.  Its  various  geogra- 
phical principles  are  formations  in  themselves  developed  and 
perfected. 

First,  the  northern  slope,  Siberia,  must  be  eliminated. 
This  slope,  from  the  Altai  chain,  with  its  fine  streams,  that 
pour  their  waters  into  the  northern  Ocean,  does  not  at 
all  concern  us  here ;  because  the  Northern  Zone,  as  already 
stated,  lies  out  of  the  pale  of  History.  But  the  remainder 
includes  three  very  interesting  localities.  The  first  is,  as  in 
Africa,  a  massive  Upland,  with  a  mountain  girdle  which 
contains  the  highest  summits  in  the  "World.  This  Upland 
is  bounded  on  the  South  and  South  East,  by  the  Mus-Tag 
or  Imaus,  parallel  to>  which,  farther  south,  runs  the  Himma- 
laya  chain.  Towards  the  East,  a  mountain  chain  running 
from  South  to  North,  parts  off  the  basin  of  the  Amur.  On 
the  North  lie  the  Altai  and  Songarian  mountains  ;  in  con- 
nection with  the  latter,  in  the  North  West  the  Musart  and 
in  the  West  the  Belur  Tag,  which  by  the  Hindoo  Coosh 
chain  are  again  united  with  the  Mus-Tag. 

This  high  mountain-girdle  is  broken  through  by  streams, 
which  are  dammed  up  and  form  great  valley  plains.  These, 
more  or  less  inundated,  present  centres  of  excessive  luxu- 
riance and  fertility,  and  are  distinguished  from  the  European 
river  districts  in  their  not  forming,  as  those  do,  proper  valleys 
with  valleys  branching  out  from  them,  but  river-plains.  Of 
this  kind  are, — the  Chinese  Yalley  Plain,  formed  by  the 
Hoang-Ho  and  Yang-tse-Kiang(the  yellow  and  blue  streams), 
— next  that  of  India,  formed  by  the  Ganges  ; — less  important 
is  the  Indus,  which  in  the  north,  gives  character  to  the 


105 

Punjaub,  and  in  the  south  flows  through  plains  of  sand. 
Farther  on,  the  lands  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates,  which 
rise  in  Armenia  and  hold  their  course  along  the  Persian 
mountains.  The  Caspian  sea  has  similar  river  valleys  ;  in 
the  East  those  formed  by  the  Oxus  and  Jaxartes  (Gihon 
and  Sihon)  which  pour  their  waters  into  the  Sea  of  Aral;  on 
the  "West  those  of  the  Cyrus  and  Araxes  (Kur  and  Aras). 
— The  Upland  and  the  "Plains  must  be  distinguished  from 
each  other ;  the  third  element  is  their  intermixture,  which 
occurs  in  Hither  [Anterior]  Asia.  To  this  belongs  Arabia, 
the  land  of  the  Desert,  the  upland  of  plains,  the  empire  of 
fanaticism.  To  this  belong  Syria  and  Asia  Minor,  con- 
nected with  the  sea,  and  having  constant  intercourse  with 
Europe. 

In  regard  to  Asia  the  remark  above  offered  respecting 
geographical  differences  is  especially  true  ;  viz.  that  the 
rearing  of  cattle  is  the  business  of  the  Upland, — agriculture 
and  industrial  pursuits  that  of  the  valley-plains, — while  com- 
merce and  navigation  form  the  third  and  last  item.  Patriarchal 
independeDce  is  strictly  bound  up  with  the  first  condition  of 
society  ;  property  and  the  relation  of  lord  and  serf  with  the 
second ;  civil  freedom  with  the  third.  In  the  Upland, 
where  the  various  kinds  of  cattle  breeding,  the  rearing  of 
horses,  camels,  and  sheep,  (not  so  much  of  oxen)  deserve 
attention,  we  must  also  distinguish  the  calm  habitual  life 
of  nomad  tribes  from  the  wild  and  restless  character  they 
display  in  their  conquests.  These  people,  without  developing 
themselves  in  a  really  historical  form,  are  swayed  by  a  power- 
ful impulse  leading  them  io  change  their  aspect  as  nations  ; 
and  although  they  have  not  attained  an  historical  character, 
the  beginning  of  History  may  be  traced  to  them.  It  must 
however  be  allowed  that  the  peoples  of  the  plains  are  more 
interesting.  In  agriculture  itself  is  involved,  ipso  facto,  the 
cessation  of  a  roving  life.  It  demands  foresight  and  solicitucie 
for  the  future  :  reflection  on  a  general  idea  is  thus  awakened ; 
and  herein  lies  the  principle  of  property  and  productive 
industry.  China,  India,  Babylonia,  have  risen  to  the  posi- 
tion of  cultivated  lands  of  this  kind.  But  as  the  peoples 
that  have  occupied  thes^  lands,  have  been  shut  up  within 
themselves,  and  have  not  appropriated  that  element  of  civi- 
lization which  the  sea  supplies,  (or  at  any  rate  only  at  the 


106  INTRODUCTION. 

commencement  of  their  civilization)  and  as  tlieir  navigation 
of  it — to  whatever  extent  it  may  have  taken  place— remained 
without  influence  on  their  culture, — a  relation  to  the  rest  of 
History  could  only  exist  in  their  case,  through  their  being 
sought  out,  and  their  character  investigated  by  others. 
The  mountain-girdle  of  the  upland,  the  upland  itself,  and 
the  river-plains,  characterize  Asia  physically  and  spiritually  ; 
but  they  themselves  are  not  concretely,  really,  historical  ele- 
ments. The  opposition  between  the  extremes  is  simply 
recognized,  not  harmonized  ;  a  firm  settlement  in  the  fertile 
plains  is  for  the  mobile,  restless,  roving,  condition  of  the 
mountain  and  Upland  races,  nothing  more  than  a  constant 
object  of  endeavour.  Physical  features  distinct  in  the  sphere 
of  nature,  assume  an  essential  historical  relation. — Anterior 
Asia  has  both  elements  in  one,  and  has,  consequently,  a 
relation  to  Europe  ;  for  what  is  most  remarkable  in  it,  this 
land  has  not  kept  for  itself,  but  sent  over  to  Europe. 
It  presents  the  origination  of  all  religious  and  political 
principles,  but  Europe  has  been  the  scene  of  their  develop- 
ment. 

Europe,  to  which  we  now  come,  has  not  the  physical 
varieties  which  we  noticed  in  Asia  and  Africa.  The  European 
character  involves  the  disappearance  of  the  contrast  exhibited 
by  earlier  varieties,  or  at  least  a  modification  of  it ;  so  that 
we  have  the  milder  qualities  of  a  transition  state.  We  have 
in  Europe  no  uplands  immediately  contrasted  with  plains. 
The  three  sections  of  Europe  require  therefore  a  different 
basis  of  classification. 

The  first  part  is  Southern  Europe — looking  towards  the 
Mediterranean.  North  of  the  Pyrenees,  mountain-chains 
run  through  France,  connected  with  the  Alps  that  separate 
and  cut  off  Italy  from  France  and  Germany.  Greece  also 
belongs  to  this  part  of  Europe.  Greece  and  Italy  long  pre- 
sented the  theatre  of  the  World's  History  ;  and  while  the 
middle  and  north  of  Europe  were  uncultivated,  the  World- 
Spirit  found  its  home  here. 

The  second  portion  is  the  heart  of  Europe,  which  Caesar 
opened  when  conquering  Gaul.  This  achievement  was  one 
of  manhood  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  General,  and 
more  productive  than  that  youthful  one  of  Alexander,  who 
undertook  to  exalt  the  East  to  a  participation  ui  Greek  life  ; 


EUROPE.  107 

ana  whose  work,  though  in  its  purport  the  noblest  and  fair- 
est for  the  imagination,  soon  vanished,  as  a  mere  Ideal,  in 
the  sequel. — In  this  centre  of  Europe,  France,  Germany, 
and  England  are  the  principal  countries. 

Lastly,  the  third  part  consists  of  the  north-eastern  States 
of  Europe, — Poland,  Russia,  and  the  Slavonic  Kingdoms. 
They  come  only  late  into  the  series  of  historical  States,  and 
form  and  perpetuate  the  connection  with  Asia.  In  contrast 
with  the  physical  peculiarities  of  the  earlier  divisions,  these 
are,  as  already  noticed,  not  present  in  a  remarkable  degree, 
but  counterbalance  each  other. 


109 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY. 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  HISTOEIC  DATA. 

In  the  geographical  survey,  the  course  of  the  World's 
History  has  been  marked  out  in  its  general  features.  The 
Sun — the  Light— rises  in  the  East.  Light  is  a  simply  self- 
involved  existence;  but  though  possessing  thus  in  itself 
universality,  it  exists  at  the  same  time  as  an  individuality 
in  the  Sun.  Imagination  has  often  pictured  to  itself  the 
emotions  of  a  blind  man  suddenly  becoming  possessed  of 
sight,  beholding  the  bright  glimmering  of  the  dawn,  the 
growing  light,  and  the  flaming  glory  of  the  ascending  Sun. 
The  boundless  forgetfulness  of  his  individuality  in  this  pure 
splendour,  is  his  first  feeling, —  utter  astonishment.  But 
when  the  Sun  is  risen,  this  astonishment  is  diminished ;  ob- 
jects around  are  perceived,  and  from  them  the  individual 
proceeds  to  the  contemplation  of  his  own  inner  being,  and 
thereby  the  advance  is  made  to  the  perception  of  the  relation 
between  the  two.  Then  inactive  contemplation  is  quitted 
for  activity ;  by  the  close  of  day  man  has  erected  a 
building  constructed  from  his  own  inner  Sun;  and  when  in. 
the  evening  he  contemplates  this,  he  esteems  it  more  highly 
than  the  original  external  Sun.  For  now  he  stands  in  a 
conscious  relation  to  his  Spirit,  and  therefore  a  free  relation. 
If  we  hold  this  image  fast  in  mind,  we  shall  find  it  sym- 
bolizing the  course  of  History,  the  great  Day's  work  of 
Spirit. 

The  History  of  the  World  travels  from  East  to  West,  for 
Europe  is  absolutely  the  end  of  History,  Asia  the  beginning. 
The  History  of  the  World  has  an  East  car'  i^o^v ;  (the  term 


110  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY. 

East  in  itself  is  entirely  relative),  for  although  the  Earth 
forms  a  sphere,  History  performs  no  circle  round  it,  but  has 
on  the  contrary  a  determinate  East,  viz.  Asia.  Here  rises 
the  outward  physical  Sun,  and  in  the  West  it  sinks  down  : 
here  consentaneously  rises  the  Sun  of  self-consciousness, 
which  diffuses  a  nobler  brilliance.  The  History  of  the  World 
is  the  discipline  of  the  uncontrolled  natural  will,  bringing  it 
into  obedience  to  a  Universal  principle  and  conferring  subjec- 
tive freedom.  The  East  knew  and  to  the  present  day  knows 
only  that  One  is  Free ;  the  Greek  and  Roman  world,  that  some 
are  free ;  the  G-erman  World  knows  that  All  are  free.  The 
first  political  form  therefore  which  we  observe  in  History,  is 
Despotism,  the  second  Democracy  and  Aristocracy,  the  third 
Monarchy. 

To  understand  this  division  we  must  remark  that  as  the 
State  is  the  universal  spiritual  life,  to  which  individuals  by 
birth  sustain  a  relation  of  confidence  and  habit,  and  in  which 
they  have  their  existence  and  reality, — the  first  question  is, 
whether  their  actual  life  is  an  unreflecting  use  and  habit 
combining  them  in  this  unity,  or  whether  its  constituent 
individuals  are  reflective  and  personal  beings  having  a  pro- 
perly subjective  and  independent  existence.  In  view  of  this, 
substantial  [objective]  freedom  must  be  distinguished  from 
subjective  freedom.  Substantial  freedom  is  the  abstract  un- 
developed Reason  implicit  in  volition,  proceeding  to  develop 
itself  in  the  State.  But  in  this  phase  of  Reason  there  is 
still  wanting  personal  insight  and  will,  that  is,  subjective 
freedom  ;  which  is  realized  only  in  the  Individual,  and  which 
constitutes  the  reflection  of  the  Individual  in  his  own  con- 
science.* Where  there  is  merely  substantial  freedom,  com- 
mands and  laws  are  regarded  as  something  fixed  and  abstract, 

*  The  essence  of  Spirit  is  self-determination  or  "  Freedom."  Where 
Spirit  has  attained  mature  growth,  as  in  the  man  who  acknowledges  the 
nbsolute  validity  of  the  dictates  of  Conscience,  the  Individual  is  "  a  law 
to  himself,"  and  this  Freedom  is  "  realized."  But  in  lower  stages  of  mo- 
lality  and  civilization,  he  wwontciougly  project*  this  legislative  principle 
jnto  some  "  governing  power  "  (one  or  several),  and  obeys  it  as  if  it  were 
an  alien,  extraneous  force,  not  the  voice  of  that  Spirit  of  which  he  himself 
(though  at  this  stage  imperfectly)  is  an  embodiment.  The  Philosophy  of 
History  exhibits  the  successive  stages  by  which  he  reaches  the  conscious- 
ness, that  it  is  his  own  inmost  being  that  thus  governs  him — i.e.  a  conscious- 
ness of  self-determintition  or  "  Freedom."— TE. 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    HISTORIC    DATA.  Ill 

to  which  the  subject  holds  himself  in  absolute  servitude. 
These  laws  need  not  concur  with  the  desire  of  the  individual, 
and  the  subjects  are  consequently  like  children,who  obey  their 
parents  without  will  or  insight  of  their  own.  But  as  subjective 
freedom  arises,  and  man  descends  from  the  contemplation 
of  external  reality  into  his  own  soul,  the  contrast  suggested 
by  reflection  arises,  involving  the  Negation  of  Reality.  The 
drawing  back  from  the  actual  world  forms  ipso  facto  an 
antithesis,  of  which  one  side  is  the  absolute  Being— the 
Divine  —  the  other  the  human  subject  as  an  individual.  In 
that  immediate,  unreflected  consciousness  which  charac- 
terizes the  East,  these  two  are  not  yet  distinguished.  The 
substantial  world  is  distinct  from  the  individual,  but  the 
antithesis  has  not  yet  created  a  schism  between  [absolute 
and  subjective]  Spirit. 

The  first  phase — that  with  which  we  have  to  begin — is  the 
East.  Unreflected  consciousness, — substantial,  objective, 
spiritual  existence, — forms  the  basis  ;  to  which  the  subjec- 
tive will  first  sustains  a  relation  in  the  form  of  faith,  confi- 
dence, obedience.  In  the  political  life  of  the  East  we  find  a 
realized  rational  freedom,  developing  itself  without  advanc- 
ing to  subjective  freedom.  It  is  the  childhood  of  History. 
Substantial  forms  constitute  the  gorgeous  edifices  of  Oriental 
Empires,  in  which  we  find  all  rational  ordinances  and  ar- 
rangements, but  in  such  a  way,  that  individuals  remain  as 
mere  accidents.  These  revolve  round  a  centre,  round  the 
sovereign,  who,  as  patriarch, — not  as  despot  in  the  sense  of 
the  Roman  Imperial  Constitution, — stands  at  the  head.  !For 
he  has  to  enforce  the  moral  and  substantial :  he  has  to  up- 
hold those  essential  ordinances  which  are  already  established ; 
so  that  what  among  us  belongs  entirely  to  subjective  freedom, 
here  proceeds  from  the  entire  and  general  body  of  the  State. 
The  glory  of  Oriental  conception  is  the  One  Individual  as 
that  substantial  being  to  which  all  belongs,  so  that  no  other 
individual  has  a  separate  existence,  or  mirrors  himself  in  his 
subjective  freedom.  All  the  riches  of  imagination  and  Nature 
are  appropriated  to  that  dominant  existence  in  which  sub- 
jective freedom  is  essentially  merged  ;  the  latter  looks  for  its 
dignity  not  in  itself,  but  in  that  absolute  object.  All  the  ele- 
ments of  a  complete  State— even  subjectivity — may  be  found 
there,  but  not  yet  harmonized  with  the  grand  substantial 


112  THE    PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY. 

being.  For  outside  the  One  Power— before  which  nothing 
can  maintain  an  independent  existence— there  is  only  revolt- 
ing caprice,  which,  beyond  the  limits  of  the  central  power, 
roves  at  wrill  without  purpose  or  result.  Accordingly  we 
find  the  wild  hordes  breaking  out  from  the  Upland,  —  falling 
upon  the  countries  in  question,  and  laying  them  waste,  or 
settling  down  in  them,  and  giving  up  their  wild  life  ;  but 
in  all  cases  resultlessly  lost  in  the  central  substance. 
This  phase  of  Substantiality,  since  it  has  not  taken  up  its 
antithesis  into  itself  and  overcome  it,  directly  divides  itself 
into  two  elements.  On  the  one  side  we  see  duration,  sta- 
bility,— Empires  belonging  to  mere  space,  as  it  were,  [as 
distinguished  from  Time] — unhistorical  History; — as  for 
example,  in  China,  the  State  based  on  the  Family  relation ; 
— a  paternal  Government,  which  holds  together  the  consti- 
tution by  its  provident  care,  its  admonitions,  retributive  or 
rather  disciplinary  inflictions  ; — a  prosaic  Empire,  because  the 
antithesis  of  Form,  viz.,  Infinity,  Ideality,  has  not  yet 
asserted  itself.  On  the  other  side,  the  Form  of  Time  stands 
contrasted  with  this  spatial  stability.  The  States  in  ques- 
tion, without  undergoing  any  change  in  themselves,  or  in  the 
principle  of  their  existence,  are  constantly  changing  their 
position  towards  each  other.  They  are  in  ceaseless  conflict, 
which  brings  on  rapid  destruction.  The  opposing  principle 
of  individuality  enters  into  these  conflicting  relations  ;  but 
it  is  itself  as  yet  only  unconscious,  merely  natural  Univer- 
sality,— Light,  which  is  not  yet  the  light  of  the  personal  soul. 
This  History,  too,  (»".  e.  of  the  struggles  before-mentioned) 
is,  for  the  most  part,  really  unhistorical,  for  it  is  only  the  re- 
petition of  the  same  majestic  ruin.  The  new  element,  which 
in  the  shape  of  bravery,  prowess,  magnanimity,  occupies  the 
place  of  the  previous  despotic  pomp,  goes  through  the 
same  circle  of  decline  and  subsidence.  This  subsidence  is 
therefore  not  really  such,  for  through  all  this  restless  change 
no  advance  is  made.  History  passes  at  this  point — and  only 
outwardly,  i.  e.  without  connection  with  the  previous  phase — 
to  Central  Asia.  Continuing  the  comparison  with  the  ages  of 
the  individual  man,  this  would  be  the  boyhood  of  History,  no 
longer  manifesting  the  repose  and  trustingness  of  the  child, 
but  boisterous  and  turbulent.  The  Greek  World  may  then 
be  compared  with  the  period  of  adolescence,  for  here  w*e  have 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    HTSTORfC    DATA,  113 

individualities  forming  themselves.  This  is  the  second  main 
principle  in  human  History.  Morality  is,  as  in  Asia,  a 
principle ;  but  it  is  morality  impressed  on  individuality,  and 
consequently  denoting  the  free  volition  of  Individuals.  Here, 
then,  is  the  Union  of  the  Moral  with  the  subjective  Will,  or 
the  Kingdom  of  Beautiful  Freedom,  for  the  Idea  is  united 
with  a  plastic  form.  It  is  not  yet  regarded  abstractedly,  but 
immediately  bound  up  with  the  Real,  as  in  a  beautiful  work 
of  Art ;  the  Sensuous  bears  the  stamp  and  expression  of  the 
Spiritual.  This  Kingdom  is  consequently  true  Harmony ; 
the  world  of  the  most  charming,  but  perishable  or  quickly 
passing  bloom  :  it  is  the  natural,  unreflecting  observance  of 
what  is  becoming, — not  yet  true  Morality.  The  individual  will 
of  the  Subject  adopts  unrellectingly  the  conduct  and  habit 
prescribed  by  Justice  and  the  Laws.  The  Individual  is 
therefore  in  unconscious  unity  with  the  Idea — the  social 
weal.  That  which  in  the  East  is  divided  into  two  extremes — 
the  substantial  as  such,  and  the  individuality  absorbed  in 
it — meets  here.  But  these  distinct  principles  are  only 
immediately  in  unity,  and  consequently  involve  the  highest 
degree  of  contradiction  ;  for  this  aesthetic  Morality  has  not 
yet  passed  through  the  struggle  of  subjective  freedom,  in  its 
second  birth,  its  palingenesis  ;  it  is  not  yet  purified  to  the 
standard  of  the  free  subjectivity  that  is  the  essence  of  true 
morality. 

The  third  phase  is  the  realm  of  abstract  Universality  (in 
which  the  Social  aim  absorbs  all  individual  aims)  :  it  is  the 
Roman  State,  the  severe  labours  of  the  Manhood  of  History. 
For  true  manhood  acts  neither  in  accordance  with  the 
caprice  of  a  despot,  nor  in  obedience  to  a  graceful  caprice  of 
its  own ;  but  works  for  a  general  aim,  one  in  which  the  indi- 
vidual perishes  and  realizes  his  own  private  object  only  in 
that  general  aim.  The  State  begins  to  have  an  abstract 
existence,  and  to  develope  itSelf  for  a  definite  object,  in 
accomplishing  which  its  members  have  indeed  a  share,  but 
not  a  complete  and  concrete  one  [calling  their  whole  being 
into  play].  Free  individuals  are  sacrificed  to  the  severe 
demands  of  the  National  objects,  to  which  they  must  suiv 
render  themselves  in  this  service  of  abstract  generalization. 
The  Roman  State  is  not  a  repetition  of  such  a  State  of  Indi- 
viduals as  the  Athenian  Polis  was.  The  geniality  and  joy  ol 

I 


1±4  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY. 

soul  that  existed  there  have  given  place  to  harsh  and  rigorous 
toil.  The  interest  of  History  is  detached  from  individuals, 
but  these  gain  for  themselves  abstract,  formal  Universality. 
The  Universal  subjugates  the  individuals ;  they  have  to  merge 
their  own  interests  in  it;  but  in  return  the  abstraction 
which  they  themselves  embody — that  is  to  say,  their  per- 
sonality— is  recognized:  in  their  individual  capacity  they 
become  persons  with  definite  rights  as  such.  In  the  same 
sense  as  individuals  may  be  said  to  be  incorporated  in  the 
abstract  idea  of  Person,  National  Individualities  (those  of  the 
Roman  Provinces)  have  also  to  experience  this  fate :  in  this 
form  of  Universality  their  concrete  forms  are  crushed,  and 
incorporated  with  it  as  a  homogeneous  and  indifferent  mass. 
Rome  becomes  a  Pantheon  of  all  deities,  and  of  all  Spiritual 
existence,  but  these  divinities  and  this  Spirit  do  not  retain 
their  proper  vitality. — The  development  of  the  State  in  ques- 
tion proceeds  in  two  directions.  On  the  one  hand,  as  based 
on  reflection — abstract  Universality—  it  has  the  express  out- 
spoken antithesis  in  itself:  it  therefore  essentially  involves 
in  itself  the  struggle  which  that  antithesis  supposes ;  with 
the  necessary  issue,  that  individual  caprice — the  purely  con- 
tingent and  thoroughly  worldly  power  of  one  de»pot — gets  the 
better  of  that  abstract  universal  principle.  At  the  very  out- 
set we  have  the  antithesis  between  the  Aim  of  the  State  as 
the  abstract  universal  principle  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
abstract  personality  of  the  individual  on  the  other  hand. 
But  when  subsequently,  in  the  historical  development,  indi- 
viduality gains  the  ascendant,  and  the  breaking  up  of  the 
community  into  its  component  atoms  can  only  be  restrained 
by  external  compulsion,  then  the  subjective  might  of  indivi- 
dual despotism  comes  forward  to  play  its  part,  as  if  summoned 
to  fulfil  this  task.  For  the  mere  abstract  compliance  with 
Law  implies  on  the  part  of  the  subject  of  law  the  supposition 
that  he  has  not  attained  to  self-organization  and  self-contro]  ; 
and  this  principle  of  obedience,  instead  of  being  hearty  and 
voluntary,  has  for  its  motive  and  ruling  power  only  the 
arbitrary  and  contingent  disposition  of  the  individual ;  so 
that  the  latter  is  led  to  seek  consolation  for  the  loss  of  his 
freedom  in  exercising  and  developing  his  private  right.  This 
is  the  purely  worldly  harmonization  of  the  antithesis.  But 
in  the  nest  place,  the  pain  inflicted  by  Despotism  begiaa  to 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    THE    GERMAN    V/ORLT).  1  1.5 

bo  felt,  and  Spirit  driven  back  into  its  utmost  depths,  leaves 
the  godless  world,  seeks  for  a  harmony  in  itself,  and  begins 
now  an  inner  life,  —  a  complete  concrete  subjectivity,  which 
possesses  at  the  same  time  a  substantiality  that  is.  not 
grounded  in  mere  external  existence.  Within  the  soul 
therefore  arises  the  Spiritual  pacification  of  the  struggle,  in 
the  fact  that  the  individual  personality,  instead  of  following 
its  own  capricious  choice,  is  purified  and  elevated  into  uni- 
versality ; — a  subjectivity  that  of  its  own  free  will  adopts 
principles  tending  to  the  good  of  all, — reaches,  in  fact,  a 
divine  personality.  To  that  worldly  empire,  this  Spiritual 
one  wears  a  predominant  aspect  of  opposition,  as  the  empire 
of  a  subjectivity  that  has  attained  to  the  knowledge  of 
itself, — itself  in  its  essential  nature, — the  Empire  of  Spirit 
in  its  full  sense. 

The  German  world  appears  at  this  point  of  development, — 
the  fourth  phase  of  World-History.  This  would  answer  in 
the  comparison  with  the  periods  of  human  life  to  its  Old  Age. 
The  Old  Age  of  Nature  is  weakness ;  but  that  of  Spirit  is 
its  perfect  maturity  and  strength,  in  which  it  returns  to 
unity  with  itself,  but  in  its  fully  developed  character  as 
Spirit. — This  fourth  phase  begins  with  the  Reconciliation 
presented  in  Christianity  ;  but  only  in  the  germ,  without 
national  or  political  development.  We  must  therefore  regard 
it  as  commencing  ratiher  with  the  enormous  contrast  between 
the  spiritual,  religious  principle,  and  the  barbarian  Real 
World.  For  Spirit  as  the  consciousness  of  an  inner  World  is, 
at  the  commencement,  itself  still  in  an  abstract  form.  All 
that  is  secular  is  consequently  given  over  to  rudeness  and 
capricious  violence.  The  Mohammedan  principle — the  en- 
lightenment of  the  Oriental  World — is  the  first  to  contra- 
vene this  barbarism  and  caprice.  We  find  it  developing 
itself  later  and  more  rapidly  than  Christianity ;  for  the  latter 
needed  eight  centuries  to  grow  up  into  a  political  form.  Bufc 
that  principle  of  the  G-erman  World  which  we  are  now  dis- 
cussing, attained  concrete  reality  only  in  the  history  of  the 
G-erman  Nations.  The  contrast  of  the  Spiritual  principle 
animating  the  Ecclesiastical  State,  with  the  rough  and  wild 
barbarism  of  the  Secular  State,  is  here  likewise  present. 
The  Secular  ought  to  be  in  harmuny  with  the  Spiritual  prin*. 
oiple,  but  we  find  nothing  more  than  the  recognition  of  that 

I  2 


116  TUF    PHILOSOPHY    OF 

obligation.  The  Secular  power  forsaken  by  the  Spirit,  mist 
in  the  first  instance  vanish  in  presence  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
[as  representative  of  Spirit]  ;  but  while  this  latter  degrades 
itself  to  mere  secularity,  it  loses  its  influence  with  the  loss 
of  its  proper  character  and  vocation.  From  this  corruption 
of  the  Ecclesiastical  element — that  is,  of  the  Church — results 
the  higher  form  of  rational  thought.  Spirit  once  more 
driven  back  upon  itself,  produces  its  work  in  an  intellectual 
shape,  and  becomes  capable  of  realizing  the  Ideal  of  Reason 
from  the  Secular  principle  alone.  Thus  it  happens,  that  in 
virtue  of  elements  of  Universality,  which  have  the  principle 
of  Spirit  as  their  basis,  the  empire  of  Thought  is  established 
actually  and  concretely.  The  antithesis  of  Church  and  State 
vanishes.  The  Spiritual  becomes  reconnected  with  the  Secu- 
lar, and  develops  this  latter  as  an  independently  organic 
existence.  The  State  no  longer  occupies  a  position  of  real 
inferiority  to  the  Church,  and  is  no  longer  subordinate  to  it. 
The  latter  asserts  no  prerogative,  and  the  Spiritual  is  no 
longer  an  element  foreign  to  the  State.  Freedom  has  found 
the  means  of  realizing  its  Ideal, — its  true  existence.  This  is 
the  ultimate  result  which  the  process  of  History  is  intended 
to  accomplish,  and  we  have  to  traverse  in  detail  the  long 
track  which  has  been  thus  cursorily  traced  out.  Yet  length 
of  Time  is  something  entirely  relative,  and  the  element  of 
Spirit  is  Eternity.  Duration,  properly  speaking,  cannot  be 
said  to  belong  to  it. 


PAST  I. 

THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD. 

\VE  have  to  begin  with  the  Oriental  World,  but  not  before 
the  period  in  which  we  discover  States  in  it.  The  diffusion  of 
Language  and  the  formation  of  races  lie  beyond  the  limits  of 
History.  History  is  prose,  and  myths  fall  short  of  History. 
The  consciousness  of  external  definite  existence  only  arises 
in  connection  with  the  power  to  form  abstract  distinctions  and 
assign  abstract  predicates  ;  and  in  proportion  as  a  capacity 
for  expressing  LAWS  [of  natural  or  social  life]  is  acquired,  in 


PART    1.       THE    OE1ENTAL    WOfiLD.  117 

the  same  proportion  does  the  ability  manifest  itself,  to  com- 
prehend objects  in  an  unpoetical  form.  While  the  ante-his- 
torical is  that  which  precedes  political  life,  it  also  lies  beyond 
self-cognizant  life;  though  surmises  and  suppositions  may 
be  entertained  respecting  that  period,  these  do  not  amount  to 
facts.  The  Oriental  World  has  as  its  inherent  and  distinc- 
tive principle  the  Substantial,  [the  Prescriptive,]  in  Morality. 
We  have  the  first  example  of  a  subjugation  of  the  mere 
arbitrary  will,  which  is  merged  in  this  substantiality.  Moral 
distinctions  and  requirements  are  expressed  as  Laws,  but  so 
that  the  subjective  will  is  governed  by  these  Laws  as  by  an 
external  force.  Nothing  subjective  in  the  shape  of  disposi- 
tion, Conscience,  formal  Freedom,  is  recognized.  Justice  is 
administered  only  on  the  basis  of  external  morality,  and 
Government  exists  only  as  the  prerogative  of  compulsion. 
Our  civil  law  contains  indeed  some  purely  compulsory  ordi- 
nances. I  can  be  compelled  to  give  up  another  man's 
property,  or  to  keep  an  agreement  which  I  have  made ;  but 
the  Moral  is  not  placed  by  us  in  the  mere  compulsion,  but 
in  the  disposition  of  the  subjects — their  sympathy  with  the 
requirements  of  law.  Morality  is  in  the  East  likewise  a 
subject  of  positive  legislation,  and  although  the  moral  pre- 
scriptions (the  substance  of  their  Ethics)  may  be  perfect,  what 
should  be  internal  subjective  sentiment  is  made  a  matter  of 
external  arrangement.  There  is  no  want  of  a  will  to  command 
moral  actions,  but  of  a  will  to  perform  them  because  com- 
manded from  within.  Since  Spirit  has  not  yet  attained  sub- 
jectivity, it  wears  the  appearance  of  spirituality  still  involved 
in  the  conditions  of  Nature.  Since  the  external  and  the  in- 
ternal, Law  and  Moral  Sense,  are  not  yet  distinguished — still 
form  an  undivided  unity — so  also  do  Religion  and  the  State. 
The  Constitution  generally  is  a  Theocracy,  and  the  Kingdom 
of  God  is  to  the  same  extent  also  a  secular  Kingdom  as  the 
secular  Kingdom  is  also  divine.  What  we  call  God  has  not 
yet  in  the  East  been  realized  in  consciousness,  for  our  idea  ot' 
God  involves  an  elevation  of  the  soul  to  the  supersensual. 
While  we  obey,  because  what  we  are  required  to  do  is  con- 
firmed by  an  internal  sanction,  there  the  Law  is  regarded  as 
inherently  and  absolutely  valid  without  a  sense  of  the  want 
of  this  subjective  confirmation.  In  the  law  men  recognize 
not  their  own  will,  but  one  entirely  foreign. 


118  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WOKLE. 

Of  the  several  parts  of  Asia  we  have  already  eliminated 
as  uuhistorical,  Upper  Asia  (so  far  and  so  long  as  its  No- 
mad population  do  not  appear  on  the  scene  of  history),  and 
Siberia.  The  rest  of  the  Asiatic  World  is  divided  into  four 
districts  :  first,  the  River-Plains,  formed  by  the  Yellow  and 
Blue  Stream,  and  the  Upland  of  farther  Asia, — China  and 
the  Mongols.  Secondly,  the  valley  of  the  Ganges  and  that  of 
the  Indus.  The  third  theatre  of  History  comprises  the  river- 
plains  of  the  Oxus  and  Jaxartes,  the  Upland  of  Persia,  and 
the  other  valley-plains  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  to 
which  Hither  Asia  attaches  itself.  Fourthly,  the  River- 
plain  of  the  Nile. 

With  China  and  the  Mongols — the  realm  of  theocratic  des- 
potism— History  begins.  Both  have  the  patriarchal  constitu- 
tion for  their  principle, — so  modified  in  China,  as  to  admit 
the  development  of  an  organized  system  of  secular  polity  ; 
while  among  the  Mongols  it  limits  itself  to  the  simple  form 
of  a  spiritual,  religious  sovereignty.  In  China  the  Monarch 
is  Chief  as  Patriarch.  The  laws  of  the  state  are  partly  civil 
ordinances,  partly  moral  requirements ;  so  that  the  internal 
lawr, — the  knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  individual  of  the  na- 
ture of  his  volition,  as  his  own  inmost  self,  even  this  is 
the  subject  of  external  statutory  enactment.  The  sphere  of 
subjectivity  does  not  then,  attain  to  maturity  here,since  moral 
laws  are  treated  as  legislative  enactments,  and  law  on  its 
part  has  an  ethical  aspect.  All  that  we  call  subjectivity  is 
concentrated  in  the  supreme  head  of  the  State,  who,  in  all 
his  legislation  has  an  eye  to  the  health,  wealth,  and  benefit 
of  the  whole.  Contrasted  with  this  secular  Empire  is  the 
spiritual  sovereignty  of  the  Mongols,  at  the  head  of  which 
stands  the  Lama,  who  is  honoured  as  God.  In  this  Spiritual 
Empire  no  secular  political  life  can  be  developed. 

In  the  second  phase — the  Indian  realm — we  see  the 
unity  of  political  organization,— a  perfect  civil  machinery, 
such  as  exists  in  China, — in  the  first  instance,  broken  up. 
The  several  powers  of  society  appear  as  dissevered  and  free 
in  relation  to  each  other.  The  different  castes  are  indeed, 
fixed  ;  but  in  view  of  the  religious  doctrine  that  established 
them,  they  wear  the  aspect  of  natural  distinctions.  Indivi- 
duals are  thereby  still  further  stripped  of  proper  personality, 
— although  it  might  appear  as  if  they  derived  gain  from  the 


PART    I.       THE    OBIENTAL    WORLD.  119 

development  of  the  distinctions  in  question.  For  though  we 
find  the  organization  of  the  State  no  longer,  as  in  China,  deter- 
mined and  arranged  by  the  one  all-absorbing  personality  [the 
head  of  the  State]  the  distinctions  that  exist  are  attributed 
to  Nature,  and  so  become  differences  of  Caste.  The  unity  in 
which  these  divisions  must  finally  meet,  is  a  religions  one  ; 
and  thus  arises  Theocratic  Aristocracy  and  its  despotism. 
Here  begins,  therefore,  the  distinction  between  the  spiritual 
consciousness  and  secular  conditions ;  but  as  the  sepa- 
ration implied  in  the  above  mentioned  distinctions  is  the 
cardinal  consideration,  so  also  we  find  in  the  religion  the 
principle  of  the  isolation  of  the  constituent  elements  of  the 
Idea; — a  principle  which  posits  the  harshest  antithesis  — 
the  conception  of  the  purely  abstract  unity  of  God,  and  of 
the  purely  sensual  Powers  of  Nature.  The  connection  of* 
the  two  is  only  a  constant  change, — a  restless  hurrying  from 
one  extreme  to  the  other, — a  wild  chaos  of  fruitless  varia- 
tion, which  must  appear  as  madness  to  a  duly  regulated, 
intelligent  consciousness. 

The  third  important  form, —  presenting  a  contrast  to 
the  immoveable  unity  of  China  and  to  the  wild  and  tur- 
bulent unrest  of  India, — is  the  Persian  Healm.  China  is 
quite  peculiarly  Oriental ;  India  we  might  compare  with 
Greece ;  Persia  on  the  other  hand  with  Rome.  In  Persia 
namely,  the  Theocratic  power  appears  as  a  Monarchy.  Now 
Monarchy  is  that  kind  of  constitution  which  does  indeed 
unite  the  members  of  the  body  politic  in  the  head  of  the 
government  as  in  a  point ;  but  regards  that  head  neither  as 
the  absolute  director  nor  the  arbitrary  ruler,  but  as  a  power 
whose  will  is  regulated  by  the  same  principle  of  law  as  the 
obedience  of  the  subject.  "We  have  thus  a  general  principle, 
a  Law,  lying  at  the  basis  of  the  whole,  but  which,  still  re- 
garded as  a  dictum  of  mere  Nature  [not  as  free  and  absolute 
Truth]  is  clogged  by  an  antithesis,  [that  of  formal  freedom 
on  the  part  of  man  as  commanded  to  obey  positive  alien 
requirements.]  The  representation,  therefore,  which  Spirit 
makes  of  itself  is,  at  this  grade  of  progress,  of  a  purely 
natural  kind, — Light.  This  Universal  principle  is  as  much 
a  regulative  one  for  the  monarch  as  for  each  of  his  subjects, 
and  the  Persian  Spirit  is  accordingly  clear,  illuminated, — the 


120  PABT    I.      THE    OlifEtfTAL   WOBLD. 

idea  of  a  people  living  in  pure  morality,  as  in  a  sacred  com- 
munity. But  this  has  on  the  one  hand  as  a  merely  natural 
Ecclesia,  the  above  antithesis  still  unreconciled ;  and  its 
sanctity  displays  the  characteristics  of  a  compulsory,  externa- 
one.  On  the  other  hand  this  antithesis  is  exhibited  in  Persia 
in  its  being  the  Empire  of  hostile  peoples,  and  the  union  of  the 
most  widely  differing  nations.  The  Persian  Unity  is  not  that 
abstract  one  of  the  Chinese  Empire ;  it  is  adapted  to  rule  over 
many  and  various  nationalities,  which  it  unites  under  the 
mild  power  of  Universality  as  a  beneficial  Sun  shining  over 
all,  — waking  them  into  life  and  cherishing  their  growth. 
This  Universal  principle, — occupying  the  position  of  a 
root  only, — allows  the  several  members  a  free  growth  for 
unrestrained  expansion  and  ramification.  In  the  organi- 
zation of  these  several  peoples,  the  various  principles  and 
forms  of  life  have  full  play  and  continue  to  exist  together. 
We  find  in  this  multitude  of  nations,  roving  Nomades ;  then 
we  see  in  Babylonia  and  Syria  commerce  and  industrial 
pursuits  in  full  vigour,  the  wildest  sensuality,  the  most 
uncontrolled  turbulence.  The  coasts  mediate  a  connec- 
tion with  foreign  lands.  In  the  midst  of  this  confusion 
the  spiritual  God  of  the  Jews  arrests  our  attention, — like 
Brahm,  existing  only  for  Thought,  yet  jealous  and  excluding 
from  his  being  and  abolishing  all  distinct  speciality  of 
manifestations  [avatars],  such  as  are  freely  allowed  in  other 
religions.  This  Persian  Empire,  then, — since  it  can  tolerate 
these  several  principles,  exhibits  the  Antithesis  in  a  lively 
active  form,  'and  is  not  shut  up  within  itself,  abstract  and 
calm,  as  are  China  and  India, — makes  a  real  transition  in 
the  History  of  the  World. 

If  Persia  forms  the  external  transition  to  Greek  life,  the 
internal,  mental  transition  is  mediated  by  Egypt.  Here  the 
antitheses  in  their  abstract  form  are  broken  through  ;  a  break- 
ing through  which  effects  their  nullification.  This  undeveloped 
reconciliation  exhibits  the  struggle  of  the  most  contradictory 
principles,  which  are  not  yet  capable  of  harmonizing  them- 
selves, but,  setting  up  the  birth  of  this  harmony  as  the  pro- 
blem to  be  solved,  make  themselves  a  riddle  for  themselves 
and  for  ethers,  the  solution  of  which  is  only  to  be  found  iu 
the  Greek  World. 


8 BUT.    I.      CHINA.  121 

If  we  compare  these  kingdoms  in  the  light  of  their  various 
fates,  we  find  the  empire  of  the  two  Chinese  rivers  the  only 
durable  kingdom  in  the  World.  Conquests  cannot  affect 
such  an  empire.  The  world  of  the  Ganges  and  the  Indus 
has  also  been  preserved.  A  state  of  things  so  destitute  of 
[distinct]  thought  is  likewise  imperishable,  but  it  is  in  its 
very  nature  destined  to  be  mixed  with  other  races, — to  be 
conquered  and  subjugated.  While  these  two  realms  have 
remained  to  the  present  day,  of  the  empires  of  the  Tigris 
and  Euphrates  on  the  contrary  nothing  remains,  except,  at 
most,  a  heap  of  bricks ;  for  the  Persian  Kingdom,  as  that  of 
Transition,  is  by  nature  perishable,  and  the  Kingdoms  of  the 
Caspian  Sea  are  given  up  to  the  ancient  struggle  of  Iran  and 
Turan.  The  Empire  of  the  solitary  Nile  is  only  present  be- 
neath the  ground,  in  its  speechless  Dead,  ever  and  anon 
stolen  away  to  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  and  in  their  ma- 
estic  habitations ;  —  for  what  remains  above  ground  is 
nothing  else  but  such  splendid  tombs. 


SECTION  I. 

CHINA. 

WITH  the  Empire  of  China  History  has  to  begin,  for  it  is 
the  oldest,  as  far  as  history  gives  us  any  information  ;  and 
its  principle  lias  such  substantiality,  that  for  the  empire  in 
question  it  is  at  once  the  oldest  and  the  newest.  Early  do 
we  see  China  advancing  to  the  condition  in  which  it  is  found 
at  this  day  ;  for  as  the  contrast  between  objective  existence 
and  subjective  freedom  of  movement  in  it,  is  still  wanting, 
every  change  is  excluded,  and  the  fixedness  of  a  character 
which  recurs  perpetually,  takes  the  place  of  what  we  should 
coll  the  truly  historical,  China  and  India  lie,  as  it  were,  still 
outside  the  World's  History,  as  the  mere  presupposition  of 
elements  whose  combination  must  be  waited  for  to  consti- 
tute their  vital  progress.  The  unity  of  substantiality  and 
subjective  freedom  so  entirely  excludes  the  distinction  and 
contrast  of  the  two  elements,  that  by  this  very  fact,  substance 
cannot  arrive  at  reflection  on  itself — at  subjectivity.  The 
Substantial  [Positive]  in  its  moral  aspect,  rules  therefore, 


122  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

not  as  the  moral  disposition  of  the    Subject,    Out   as   the 
despotism  of  the  Sovereign. 

No  People  has  a  so  strict  y  continuous  series  of  Writers 
of  History  as  the  Chinese.  Other  Asiatic  peoples  also  have 
ancient  traditions,  but  no  History.  The  Vedas  of  the 
Indians  are  not  such.  The  traditions  of  the  Arabs  are  very 
old,  but  are  not  attached  to  a  political  constitution  and  its 
development.  But  such  a  onstitution  exists  in  China,  and 
that  in  a  distinct  and  prominent  form.  The  Chinese  tradi- 
tions ascend  to  3000  years  before  Christ ;  and  the  Shu-King  > 
their  canonical  document,  beginning  with  the  government 
of  Yao,  places  this  2357  years  before  Christ.  It  may  here 
be  incidentally  remarked,  that  the  other  Asiatic  kingdoiiis 
also  reach  a  high  antiquity.  According  to  the  calculation 
of  an  English  writer,  the  Egyptian  history  ic.gj)  reaches  to 
2207  years  before  Christ,  the  Assyrian  to  2221,  the  Indian 
to  2204.  Thus  the  traditions  respecting  the  principal  king- 
doms of  the  East  reach  to  about  2300  years  before  the  birth 
of  Christ.  Comparing  this  with  the  history  of  the  Old 
Testament,  a  space  of  2400  years,  according  to  the  common 
acceptation,  intervened  between  the  Noachian  Deluge  and 
the  Christian  era.  But  Johannes  von  Miiller  has  adduced 
weighty  objections  to  this  number.  He  places  the 
Deluge  in  the  year  3473  before  Christ, — thus  about  1000 
years  earlier, — supporting  his  view  by  the  Septuagint.  1 
remark  this  only  with  the  view  of  obviating  a  difficulty  that 
may  appear  to  arise  when  we  meet  with  dates  of  a  higher 
age  than  2400  years  before  Christ,  and  yet  find  nothing  about 
the  Flood.— The  Chinese  have  certain  ancient  canonical 
documents,  from  which  their  history,  constitution,  and  reli- 
gion can  be  gathered.  The  Vedas  and  the  Mosaic  records 
are  similar  books  ;  as  also  the  Homeric  poems.  Among  the 
Chinese  these  books  are  called  Kings,  and  constitute  the 
foundation  of  all  their  studies.  The  Shu-King  contains  their 
history,  treats  of  the  government  of  the  ancient  kings,  and 
gives  the  statutes  enacted  by  this  or  that  monarch.  The 
Y-King  consists  of  figures,  which  have  been  regarded  as  the 
bases  of  the  Chinese  written  character,  and  this  book  is  also 
considered  the  groundwork  of  the  Chinese  Meditation.  For 
it  begins  with  the  abstractions  of  Unity  and  Duality,  and 
then  treats  of  the  concrete  existences  pertaining  to  these 


SECT.    1.       CKINA.  [23 

abstract  forms  of  thought.  Lastly,  the  Shi-King  is  tie  book 
of  the  oldest  poems  in  a  great  variety  of  styles.  The 
high  officers  of  the  kingdom  were  anciently  commissioned  to 
bring  with  them  to  the  annual  festival  all  the  poems  com- 
posed in  their  province  within  the  year.  The  Emperor  in 
full  court  was  the  judge  of  these  poems,  and  those  recog- 
nized as  good  received  public  approbation.  Besides  these 
three  books  of  archives  which  are  specially  honoured  and 
studied,  there  are  besides  two  others,  less  important,  viz. 
the  Li-Ki  (or  Li-King}  which  records  the  customs  and 
ceremonial  observances  pertaining  to  the  Imperial  dignity, 
and  that  of  the  State  functionaries  (with  an  appendix,  Yo- 
King,  treating  of  music)  ;  and  the  Tshun-tsin,  the  chronicle 
of  the  kingdom  Lu,  where  Confucius  appeared.  These  books 
are  the  groundwork  of  the  history,  the  manners  and  the  laws 
of  China. 

This  empire  early  attracted  the  attention  of  Europeans, 
although  only  vague  stories  about  it  had  reached  them.  It 
was  always  marvelled  at  as  a  country  which,  self-originated, 
appeared  to  have  no  connection  with  the  outer  world. 

In  the  13th  century  a  Venetian  (Marco  Polo)  explored  it 
for  the  first  time,  but  his  reports  were  deemed  fabulous.  In 
later  times,  every  thing  that  he  had  said  respecting  its  extent 
and  greatness  was  entirely  confirmed.  By  the  lowest  cal- 
culation, China  has  150  millions  of  inhabitants  ;  another 
makes  the  number  200,  and  the  highest  raises  it  even  to  300 
millions.  -  Erom  the  far  north  it  stretches  towards  the  south 
to  India ;  on  the  east  it  is  bounded  by  the  vast  Pacific, 
and  on  the  west  it  extends  towards  Persia  and  the  Cas- 
pian. China  Proper  is  over-populated.  On  both  rivers,  the 
Hoang-ho  and  the  Tang-tse-Kiang,  dwell  many  millions  of 
human  beings,  living  on  rafts  adapted  to  all  the  requirements 
of  their  mode  of  life.  The  population  and  the  thoroughly 
organized  State-arrangements,  descending  even  to  the  mi- 
nutest details,  have  astonished  Europeans  ;  and  a  matter  of 
especial  astonishment  is  the  accuracy  with  which  their  his- 
torical works  are  executed.  For  in  China  the  Historians 
are  some  of  the  highest  functionaries.  Two  ministers  con- 
stantly in  attendance  on  the  Emperor,  are  commissioned  to 
keep  a  journal  of  everything  the  Emperor  does,  commands, 
and  says,  and  their  notes  are  then  worked  up  and  made  use 


124  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WOBLU. 

of  by  the  Historians.  "We  cannot  go  further  into  the 
miuutia3  of  their  annals,  which,  as  they  themselves  exhibit 
no  development,  would  only  hinder  us  in  ours.  Their  His- 
tory ascends  to  very  ancient  times,  in  which  Fohi  is  named 
as  the  Diffuser  of  culture,  he  having  been  the  original  civi- 
lizer  of  China.  He  is  said  to  have  lived  in  the  29th  century 
before  Christ, — before  the  time,  therefore,  at  which  the  Shu- 
Iving  begins  ;  but  the  mythical  and  pre-historical  is  treated 
by  Chinese  Historians  as  perfectly  historical.  The  first 
region  of  Chinese  history  is  the  north-western  corner, — 
China  Proper, — towards  that  point  where  the  Hoang-ho  des- 
cends from  the  mountains  ;  for  only  at  a  later  period  did  the 
Chinese  empire  extend  itself  towards  the  south,  to  the  Yang- 
tse-Kiang.  The  narrative  begins  with  the  period  in  which 
men  lived  in  a  wild  state,  i.e.  in  the  woods,  when  they  fed  on 
the  fruits  of  the  earth,  and  clothed  themselves  with  the  skins 
of  wild  beasts.  There  was  no  recognition  of  definite  laws 
among  them.  To  Fohi  (who  must  be  duly  distinguished 
from  Fo,  the  founder  of  a  new  religion)  is  ascribed  the 
instruction  of  men  in  building  themselves  huts  and  making 
dwellings.  He  is  said  to  have  directed  their  attention  to  the 
change  and  return  of  seasons,  to  barter  and  trade ;  to  have 
established  marriage  ;  to  have  taught  that  Reason  came  from 
Heaven,  and  to  have  given  instructions  for  rearing  silk- 
worms, building  bridges,  and  making  use  of  beasts  of  burden. 
The  Chinese  historians  are  very  diffuse  on  the  subject  of  these 
various  origins.  The  progress  of  the  history  is  the  exten- 
sion of  the  culture  thus  originated,  to  the  south,  and  the 
beginning  of  a  state  and  a  government.  The  great  Empire 
which  had  thus  gradually  been  formed,  was  soon  broken  up 
into  many  provinces,  which  carried  on  long  wars  with  each 
other,  and  were  then  re-united  into  a  Whole.  The  dynasties 
in  China  have  often  been  changed,  and  the  one  now  domi- 
nant is  generally  marked  as  the  22nd.  In  connection  with 
the  rise  and  fall  of  these  dynasties  arose  the  different  capital 
cities  that  are  found  in  this  empire.  For  a  long  time  Nankin 
was  the  capital ;  now  it  is  Pekin  ;  at  an  earlier  period  other 
cities.  China  has  been  compelled  to  wage  many  wars  with 
the  Tartars,  who  penetrated  far  into  the  country.  The  long 
wall  built  by  Shi-hoang-ti, — and  which  has  always  been 
regarded  as  a  most  astoundir.g  achievement,— was  raised  as  a 


SECT    I.      CHINA.  125 

barrier  against  the  inroads  of  the  northern  Nomades.  This 
prince  divided  the  whole  empire  into  36  provinces,  and  made 
himself  especially  remarkable  by  his  attacks  on  the  old  lite- 
rature, especially  on  the  historical  books  and  historical 
studies  generally.  He  did  this  with  the  design  of  strength- 
ening his  own  dynasty,  by  destroying  the  remembrance  of 
the  earlier  one.  After  the  historical  books  had  been  col- 
lected and  burned,  many  hundreds  of  the  literati  fled  to  the 
mountains,  in  order  to  save  what  remained.  Every  one  that 
fell  into  the  Emperor's  hands  experienced  the  same  fate  as 
the  books.  This  Book-burning  is  a  very  important  circum- 
stance, for  in  spite  of  it  the  strictly  canonical  books  were 
saved,  as  is  generally  the  case.  The  first  connection  of  China 
with  the  West  occurred  about  64  A  D.  At  that  epoch  a 
Chinese  emperor  dispatched  ambassadors  (it  is  said)  to  visit 
the  wise  sages  of  the  West.  Twenty  years  later  a  Chinese 
general  is  reported  to  have  penetrated  as  far  as  Judea.  A  t 
the  beginning  of  the  8th  century,  A.D.,  the  first  Christians 
are  reputed  to  have  gone  to  China,  of  which  visit  later  visi- 
tors assert  that  they  found  traces  and  monuments.  A  Tartar 
kingdom,  Lyau-Tong,  existing  in  the  north  of  China,  is  said 
to  have  been  reduced  and  taken  possession  of  by  the  Chinese 
with  the  help  of  the  Western  Tartars,  about  1100  A.D.  This, 
nevertheless,  gave  these  very  Tartars  an  opportunity  of 
securing  a  footing  in  China.  Similarly  they  admitted  the 
Mantchoos  with  whom  they  engaged  in  war  in  the  16th  and 
17th  centuries,  which  resulted  in  the  present  dynasty's 
obtaining  possession  of  the  throne.  Yet  this  new  dynasty 
has  not  effected  farther  change  in  the  country,  any  more 
than  did  the  earlier  conquest  of  the  Mongols  in  the  year 
1281.  The  Mantchoos  that  live  in  China  have  to  conform 
to  Chinese  laws,  and  study  Chinese  sciences. 

We  pass  now  from  these  few  dates  in  Chinese  history  to 
the  contemplation  of  the  Spirit  of  the  constitution,  which 
has  always  remained  the  same.  We  can  deduce  it  from  the 
genera]  principle,  which  is,  the  immediate  unity  of  the  sub- 
stantial Spirit  and  the  Individual  ;  but  this  is  equivalent  to 
the  Spirit  of  the  Family,  which  is  here  extended  over  the 
most  populous  of  countries.  The  element  of  Subjectivity. — 
that  is  to  say,  the  reflection  upon  itself  of  the  individual 
will  in  antithesis  to  the  Substantial  (as  the  power  in  which 


126  PAET  i.     THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD. 

it  is  absorbed)  or  the  recognition  of  this  power  as  one  with 
its  own  essential  being,  in  which  it  knows  itself  free, — is 
not  found  on  this  grade  of  development.  The  universal 
"Will  displays  its  activity  immediately  through  that  of  the  in- 
dividual :  the  latter  has  no  self-cognizance  at  all  in  antithesis 
to  Substantial,  positive  being,  which  it  does  not  yet  regard 
as  a  power  standing  over  against  it, — as,  (e.g.)  in  Judaism,  the 
"  Jealous  Grod"  is  known  as  the  negation  of  the  Individual. 
In  China  the  Universal  Will  immediately  commands  what 
the  Individual  is  to  do,  nnd  the  latter  complies  and  obeys 
with  proportionate  renunciation  of  reflection  and  personal 
independence.  If  he  does  not  obey,  if  he  thus  virtually  sepa- 
rates himself  from  the  Substance  of  his  being,  inasmuch 
as  this  separation  is  not  mediated  by  a  retreat  within  a  per- 
sonality of  his  own,  the  punishment  he  undergoes  does  not 
affect  his  subjective  and  internal,  but  simply  his  outward 
e^stence.  The  element  of  subjectivity  is  therefore  as  much 
wanting  to  this  political  totality  as  the  latter  is  on  its  side 
altogether  destitute  of  a  foundation  in  the  moral  disposition 
of  the  subject.  For  the  Substance  is  simply  an  individual, 
— the  Emperor, — whose  law  constitutes  all  the  disposition. 
Nevertheless,  this  ignoring  of  inclination  does  not  imply 
caprice,  which  would  itself  indicate  inclination — that  is,  sub- 
jectivity and  mobility.  Here  we  have  the  One  Being  of  the 
State  supremely  dominant, — the  Substance,  which,  still  hard 
and  inflexible,  resembles  nothing  but  itself — includes  no 
other  element. 

This  relation,  then,  expressed  more  definitely  and  more 
conformably  with  its  conception,  is  that  of  the  Family.  On 
this  form  of  moral  union  alone  rests  the  Chinese  State,  and 
it  is  objective  Family  Piety  that  characterizes  it.  The 
Chinese  regard  themselves  as  belonging  to  their  family,  and 
at  the  same  time  as  children  of  the  State.  In  the  Family 
itself  they  are  not  personalities,  for  the  consolidated  unity 
in  which  they  exist  as  members  of  it  is  consanguinity  and 
natural  obligation.  In  the  State  they  have  as  little  inde- 
pendent personality;  for  there  the  patriarchal  relation  is 
predominant,  and  the  government  is  based  on  the  paternal 
management  of  the  Emperor,  who  keeps  all  departments  of 
the  State  in  order.  Five  duties  are  stated  in  the  Shu-Kiny 
as  involving  grave  and  unchangeable  fundamental  relations. 


SECT.    I.      CHINA.  127 

1.  The  mutual  one  of  the  Emperor  and  people.  2.  Of  the 
Fathers  and  Children.  3.  Of  an  elder  and  younger  brother. 
4.  Of  Husband  and  Wife.  5.  Of  Friend  and  Friend.  It  may 
be  here  incidentally  remarked,  that  the  number  Five  is 
regarded  as  fundamental  among  the  Chinese,  and  presents 
itself  as  often  as  the  number  Three  among  us.  They  have  five 
Elements  of  Nature — Air,  Water,  Earth,  Metal,  and  Wood. 
They  recogvihe  four  quarters  of  Heaven  and  a  centre.  Holy 
places,  where  altars  are  erected,  consist  of  four  elevations, 
and  one  in  the  centre. 

The  duties  of  the  Family  are  absolutely  binding,  and 
established  and  regulated  by  law.  The  son  may  not  accost 
the  father,  when  lie  comes  into  the  room  ;  he  must  seem  to 
contract  himself  to  nothing  at  the  side  of  the  door,  and  may 
not  leave  the  room  without  his  father's  permission.  When 
the  father  dies,  the  son  must  mourn  for  three  years — 
abstaining  from  meat  and  wine.  The  business  in  which  he 
was  engaged,  even  that  of  the  State,  must  be  suspended,  for 
he  is  obliged  to  quit  it.  Even  the  Emperor,  who  has  just 
i-ommenced  his  government,  does  not  devote  himself  to  his 
duties  during  this  time.  No  marriage  may  be  contracted  in 
the  family  within  the  period  of  mourning.  Only  the  having 
reached  his  fiftieth  year  exempts  the  bereaved  from  the  ex- 
cessive strictness  of  the  regulations,  which  are  then  relaxed 
that  he  may  not  be  reduced  in  person  by  them.  The  sixtieth 
year  relaxes  them  still  further,  and  the  seventieth  limits 
mourning  to  the  colour  of  the  dress.  A  mother  is  honoured 
equally  with  a  father.  When  Lord  Macartney  saw  the  Em 
peror,  the  latter  was  sixty-eight  years  old,  (sixty  years  is 
among  the  Chinese  a  fundamental  round  number,  as  one 
hundred  is  among  us),  notwithstanding  which  he  visited  his 
mother  every  morning  on  foot,  to  demonstrate  his  respect 
for  her.  The  New  Year's  congratulations  are  offered  even  to^ 
the  mother  of  the  Emperor ;  and  the  Emperor  himself  cannot 
receive  the  homage  of  the  grandees  of  the  court  until  lie  has 
paid  his  to  his  mother.  The  latter  is  the  first  and  constant 
counsellor  of  her  son,  and  all  announcements  concerning  his 
family  are  made  in  her  name. —  The  merits  of  a  son  are 
ascribed  not  to  him,  but  to  his  father.  When  on  one  occa- 
sion the  prime  minister  asked  the  Emperor  to  confer  titles 
of  honour  on  his  father,  the  Emperor  issued  an  edict  in 


12H  PART    1.       THE    ORIENTAL    WOKL1>. 

•» 

\\liichitwas  said:  "Famine  was  desolating  the  Empiie  : 
Thy  father  gave  rice  to  the  starving.  "What  beneficence ! 
The  Empire  was  on  the  edge  of  ruin  :  Thy  father  defended 
it  at  the  hazard  of  his  life.  What  fidelity  !  The  government 
of  the  kingdom  was  entrusted  to  thy  father:  he  made 
excellent  laws,  maintained  peace  and  concord  with  the 
neighbouring  princes,  and  asserted  the  rights  of  my  crown. 
What  wisdom!  The  title  therefore  which  I  award  to  him 
is  :  Beneficent,  Faithful  and  Wise."— The  Son  had  done  all 
that  is  here  ascribed  to  the  Father.  In  this  way  ancestors — a 
fashion  the  reverse  of  our's — obtain  titles  of  honour  through 
their  posterity.  But  in  return,  every  Father  of  a  Family  is 
responsible  for  the  transgressions  of  his  descendants  ;  duties 
ascend,  but  none  can  be  properly  said  to  descend. 

It  is  a  great  object  with  the  Chinese,  to  have  children 
who  may  give  them  the  due  honours  of  burial,  pay  respect 
to  their  memory  after  death,  and  decorate  their  grave. 
Although  a  Chinese  may  have  many  wives,  one  only  is  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  and  the  children  of  the  subordinate 
wives  have  to  honour  her  absolutely  as  a  mother.  If  a  Chinese 
husband  has  no  children  by  any  of  his  wives,  he  may  pro- 
ceed to  adoption  with  a  view  to  this  posthumous  honour. 
For  it  is  an  indispensable  requirement  that  the  grave 
of  parents  be  annually  visited.  Here  lamentations  are 
annually  renewed,  and  many,  to  give  full  vent  to  their  grief, 
remain  there  sometimes  one  or  two  months.  The  body  of  a 
deceased  father  is  often  kept  three  or  four  months  in  the 
house,  and  during  this  time  no  one  may  sit  down  on  a  chair 
or  sleep  in  a  bed.  Every  family  in  China  has  a  Hall  of 
Ancestors  where  all  the  members  annually  assemble  ;  there 
are  placed  representations  of  those  who  have  filled  exalted 
posts,  while  the  names  of  those  men  and  women  who  have  been 
of  less  importance  in  the  family  are  inscribed  on  tablets  ;  the 
whole  family  then  partake  of  a  meal  together,  and  the  poor 
members  are  entertained  by  the  more  wealthy.  It  is  said 
that  a  Mandarin  who  had  become  a  Christian,  having  ceased 
to  honour  his  ancestors  in  this  way,  exposed  himself  to 
great  persecutions  on  the  part  of  his  relatives.  The  same 
minuteness  of  regulation  which  prevails  in  the  relation 
between  father  and  children,  characterizes  also  that  be- 
tween the  elder  brother  and  the  younger  ones.  The 


SECT.    I.       CTTINA.  129 

former  ban,  though  m  a  less  degree  than  parents,  claims  to 
reverence. 

This  family  basis  is  also  the  basis  of  the  Constitution,  if 
we  can  speak  of  such.  For  although  the  Emperor  has  the 
right  of  a  Monarch,  standing  at  the  summit  of  a  political 
edifice,  he  exercises  it  paternally.  He  is  the  Patriarch,  and 
everything  in  the  State  that  can  make  any  claim  to  reverence 
is  attached  to  him.  For  the  Emperor  is  chief  both  in  reli- 
gious affairs  and  in  science,  —  a  subject  which  will  be  treated 
of  in  detail  further  on. — This  paternal  care  on  the  part  of  the 
Emperor,  and  the  spirit  of  his  subjects,—  who  like  children 
do  not  advance  beyond  the  ethical  principle  of  the  family 
circle,  and  can  gain  for  themselves  no  independent  and  civil 
freedom, — makes  the  whole  an  empire,  administration,  and 
social  code,  which  is  at  the  same  time  moral  and  thoroughly 
prosaic, — that  is,  a  product  of  the  Understanding  without 
tree  Reason  and  Imagination. 

The  Emperor  claims  the  deepest  reverence.  In  virtue  of 
his  position  he  is  obliged  personally  to  manage  the  govern- 
ment, and  must  himself  be  acquainted  with  and  direct  the 
legislative  business  of  the  Empire,  although  the  Tribunals 
give  their  assistance.  Notwithstanding  this,  there  is  little 
room  for"  the  exercise  of  his  individual  will  ;  for  the  whole 
government  is  conducted  on  the  basis  of  certain  ancient 
maxims  of  the  Empire,  while  his  constant  oversight  is  not 
the  less  necessary.  The  imperial  princes  are  therefore  edu- 
cated on  the  strictest  plan.  Their  physical  frames  are 
hardened  by  discipline,  and  the  sciences  are  their  occupation 
from  their  earliest  years.  Their  education  is  conducted 
under  the  Emperor's  superintendence,  and  they  are  early 
taught  that  the  Emperor  is  the  head  of  the  State  and  there- 
fore must  appear  as  the  first  and  best  in  everything.  An 
examination  of  the  princes  takes  place  every  year,  and  a 
circumstantial  report  of  the  aifair  is  published  through  the 
whole  Empire,  which  feels  the  deepest  interest  in  these 
matters  China  has  therefore  succeeded  in  getting  the  great- 
est and  best  governors,  to  whom  the  expression  "  Solomonian 
Wisdom  "  might  be  applied ;  and  the  present  Mantchoo 
dynasty  has  especially  distinguished  itself  by  abilities  of 
mind  and  body.  All  the  ideals  of  princes  and  of  princely 
educatior  which  have  been  so  numerous  and  varied  since  the 


130  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL     \YORLD. 

appearance  of  Fenelon'a  "Telemaque"  are  realized  here. 
In  Europe  there  can  be  no  Solomons.  But  here  is  the  place 
and  the  necessity  for  such  government ;  since  the  rectitude, 
the  prosperity,  the  security  of  all,  depend  on  the  one  impulse 
given  to  the  first  link  in  the  entire  chain  of  this  hierarchy. 
The  deportment  of  the  Emperor  is  represented  to  us  as  in 
the  highest  -degree  simple,  natural,  noble  and  intelligent. 
Free  from  a  proud  taciturnity  or  repelling  hauteur  in  speech 
or  manners,  he  lives  in  the  consciousness  of  his  own  dignity 
and  in  the  exercise  of  imperial  duties  to  whose  observance 
he  has  been  disciplined  from  his  earliest  youth.  Besides 
the  imperial  dignity  there  is  properly  no  elevated  rank,  no 
nobility  among  the  Chinese ;  only  the  princes  of  the  imperial 
house,  and  the  sons  of  the  ministers  enjoy  any  precedence 
of  the  kind,  and  they  rather  by  their  position  than  by  their 
birth.  Otherwise  all  are  equal,  and  only  those  have  a  share 
in  the  administration  of  affairs  who  have  ability  for  it.  Offi- 
cial stations  are  therefore  occupied  by  men  of  the  greatest 
intellect  and  education.  The  Chinese  State  has  conse- 
quently been  often  set  up  as  an  Ideal  which  may  serve  even 
us  for  a  model. 

The  next  tiling  to  be  considered  is  the  administration  of 
the  Empire.  We  cannot  speak,  in  reference  to  China,  of  a 
Constitution;  for  this  would  ir.  ply  that  individuals  and  cor- 
porations have  independent  rights — partly  in  respect  of  their 
particular  interests,  partly  in  respect  of  the  entire  State. 
This  element  must  be  wanting  here,  and  we  can  only  speak 
of  an  administration  of  the  Empire.  In  China,  we  have  the 
reality  of  absolute  equality,  and  all  the  differences  that  exist 
are  possible  only  in  connection  with  that  administration, 
and  in  virtue  of  the  worth  which  a  person  may  acquire, 
enabling  him  to  fill  a  high  post  in  the  Government. 
Since  equality  prevails  in  China,  but  without  any  freedom, 
despotism  is  necessarily  the  mode  of  government.  Among 
us,  men  are  equal  only  before  the  lawr,  and  in  the  respect 
paid  to  the  property  of  each  ;  but  they  have  also  many  inte- 
rests and  peculiar  privileges,  which  must  be  guaranteed,  if 
we  are  to  have  what  we  caD  freedom.  But  in  the  Chinese 
Empire  these  special  interests  enjoy  no  consideration  on  their 
own  account,  and  the  government  proceeds  from  the  Empe- 
ror alone,  who  sets  it  in  m overrent  as  a  hierarchy  of  officials 


BECT,   I.      CHINA.  131 

or  Mandarins.  Of  these,  there  are  two  kinds — learned  and 
military  Mandarins — the  latter  corresponding  to  our  Officers. 
The  Learned  Mandarins  constitute  the  higher  rank,  for,  in 
China,  civilians  take  precedence  of  the  military.  Govern- 
ment officials  are  educated  at  the  schools ;  elementary  schoo.- s 
are  instituted  for  obtaining  elementary  knowledge.  Insti- 
tutions for  higher  cultivation,  such  as  our  Universities,  may, 
perhaps,  be  said  not  to  exist.  Those  who  wish  to  attain 
high  official  posts  must  undergo  several  examinations,  —  usu 
ally  three  in  number.  To  the  third  and  last  examination — at 
which  the  Emperor  himself  is  present — only  those  can  bo 
admitted  who  have  passed  the  first  and  second  with  credit ; 
and  the  reward  for  having  succeeded  in  this,  is  the  imme- 
diate introduction  into  the  highest  Council  of  the  Empire. 
The  sciences,  an  acquaintance  with  which  is  especially  re- 
quired, are  the  History  of  the  Empire,  Jurisprudence,  and 
the  science  of  customs  and  usages,  and  of  the  organization 
and  administration  of  government.  Besides  this,  the  Man- 
darins are  said  to  have  a  talent  for  poetry  of  the  most  refined 
order.  We  have  the  means  of  judging  of  this,  particularly 
from  the  Romance,  Ju-Mao-U,  or,  "  The  Two  Cousins,"  trans- 
lated by  Abel  E-emusat  :  in  this,  a  youth  is  introduced  who 
having  finished  his  studies,  is  endeavouring  to  attain  high  dig- 
nities. The  officers  of  the  army,  also,  must  have  some  mental 
acquirements ;  they  too  are  examined ;  but  civil  functionaries 
enjoy,  as  stated  above,  far  greater  respect.  At  the  great 
festivals  the  Emperor  appears  with  a  retinue  of  two  thousand 
Doctors,  i.e.  Mandarins  in  Civil  Offices,  and  the  same  num- 
ber of  military  Mandarins.  (In  the  whole  Chinese  State, 
there  are  about  15,000  civil,  and 20,000  military  Mandarins.) 
The  Mandarins  who  have  not  yet  obtained  an  office,  never- 
theless belong  to  the  Court,  and  are  obliged  to  appear  at 
the  great  festivals  in  the  Spring  and  Autumn,  when  the 
Emperor  himself  guides  the  plough.  These  functionaries 
are  divided  into  eight  classes.  The  first  are  those  that,  at- 
tend the  Emperor,  then  follow  the  viceroys,  and  so  on.  The 
Emperor  governs  by  means  of  administrative  bodies,  for  the 
most  part  composed  of  Mandarins.  The  Council  of  the 
Empire  is  the  highest  body  of  the  kind  :  it  consists  of  the 
most  learned  and  talented  men.  From  these  are  chosen  the 
presidents  of  the  other  colleges.  The  greatest  publicity 

x  2 


132  PAIIT    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

prevails  in  the  business  of  government.  The  subordi?iate 
officials  report  to  the  Council  of  the  Empire,  and  the  latter 
lay  the  matter  before  the  Emperor,  whose  decision  is  made 
known  in  the  Court  Journal.  The  Emperor  often  accuses 
himself  of  faults  ;  and  should  his  princes  have  been  unsuc- 
cessful in  their  examination,  he  blames  them  severely.  In 
every  Ministry,  and  in  various  parts  of  the  Empire,  there  is 
a  Censor  (Ko-tao),  who  has  to  give  the  Emperor  an  account 
of  everything.  These  Censors  enjoy  a  permanent  office, 
and  are  very  much  feared.  They  exercise  a  strict  surveil- 
lance over  everything  that  concerns  the  government,  and  the 
public  and  private  conduct  of  the  Mandarins,  and  make  their 
report  immediately  to  the  Emperor.  They  have  also  the 
right  of  remonstrating  with  and  blaming  him.  The  Chinese 
History  gives  many  examples  of  the  noble-mindedness  and 
courage  of  these  Ko-taos.  For  example :  A  Censor  had 
remonstrated  with  a  tyrannical  sovereign,  but  had  been  se- 
verely repulsed.  Nevertheless,  he  was  not  turned  away 
from  his  purpose,  but  betook  himself  once  more  to  the 
Emperor  to  renew  his  remonstrances.  Foreseeing  his  death, 
he  had  the  coffin  brought  in  with  him,  in  which  he  was  to  be 
buried.  It  is  related  of  the  Censors,  that, — cruelly  lacerafed 
by  the  torturers  and  unable  to  utter  a  sound, — they  have 
even  written  their  animadversions  with  their  own  blood  in  the 
sand.  These  Censors  themselves  form  yet  another  Tribunal 
which  has  the  oversight  of  the  whole  Empire.  The  Manda- 
rins are  responsible  also  for  performing  duties  arising  from 
unforeseen  exigencies  in  the  State.  If  famine,  disease, 
conspiracy,  religious  disturbances  occur,  they  have  to  report 
the  facts;  not,  however,  to  wait  for  further  orders  irom 

fovernmeut,  but  immediately  to  act  as  the  case  requires, 
'he  whole  of  the  administration  is  thus  covered  by  a  net- 
work of  officials.  Functionaries  are  appointed  to  superin- 
tend the  roads,  the  rivers,  and  the  coasts.  Everything  is 
arranged  with  the  greatest  minuteness.  In  particular,  great 
attention  is  paid  to  the  rivers ;  in  the  Shu-King  are  to  be 
found  many  edicts  of  the  Emperor,  designed  to  secure  the 
land  from  inundations.  The  gates  of  every  town  are  guarded 
by  a  watch,  and  the  streets  are  barred  all  night.  Govern- 
ment officers  are  always  answerable  to  the  higher  Council. 
Every  Mandarin  is  also*  bound  to  make  known  the  faults  he 


SECT.   I.      CHINA.  133 

has  committed,  every  five  years  ;  and  the  trustworthiness  of 
his  statement  is  attested  by  a  Board  of  Control — the  Cen- 
sorship. In  the  case  of  any  grave  crime  not  confessed,  the 
Mandarins  and  their  families  are  punished  most  severely. 
From  all  this  it  is  clear  that  the  Emperor  is  the  centre,  around 
which  everything  turns  ;  consequently  the  well-being  of 
the  country  and  people  depends  on  him.  The  wrhole  hierarchy 
of  the  administration  works  more  or  less  according  to  a  set- 
tled routine,  which  in  a  peaceful  condition  of  things  becomes 
u  convenient  habit.  Uniform  and  regular,  like  the  course 
of  nature,  it  goes  its  own  way,  at  one  time  as  at  another 
time  ;  but  the  Emperor  is  required  to  be  the  moving,  ever 
wakeful,  spontaneously  active  Soul.  If  then  the  per- 
sonal character  of  the  Emperor  is  not  of  the  order  described, 
— namely,  thoroughly  moral,  laborious,  and  while  maintaining 
dignity,  full  of  energy, — every  thing  is  relaxed,  and  the 
government  is  paralyzed  from  head  to  foot,  and  given  over 
to  carelessness  and  caprice.  For  there  is  no  other  legal 
power  or  institution  extant,  but  this  superintendence  and 
oversight  of  the  Emperor.  It  is  not  their  own  conscience, 
their  own  honour,  which  keeps  the  officers  of  government 
up  to  their  duty,  but  an  external  mandate  and  the  severe 
sanctions  by  which  it  is  supported.  In  the  instance  of  the 
revolution  that  occurred  in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  the  last  Emperor  of  the  dynasty  was  very  amiable 
and  honourable ;  but  through  the  mildness  of  his  character, 
the  reins  of  government  were  relaxed,  and  disturbances 
naturally  ensued.  The  rebels  called  the  Mantchoos  into  the 
country.  The  Emperor  killed  himself  to  avoid  falling  into 
the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  with  his  blood  wrote  on  the 
border  of  his  daughter's  robe  a  few  words,  in  which  he  com- 
plained bitterly  of  the  injustice  of  his  subjects.  A.  Man- 
darin, who  was  with  him,  buried  him,  and  then  killed  himself 
on  his  grave.  The  Empress  and  her  attendants  followed  the 
example.  The  last  prince  of  the  imperial  house,  who  was 
besieged  in  a  distant  province,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy  and  was  put  to  death.  All  the  other  attendant 
Mandarins  died  a  voluntary  death. 

Passing  from  the  administration  to  the  Jurisprudence  of 
China,  we  find  the  subjects  regarded  as  in  a  state  of  nonage, 
in  virtue  of  the  principle  of  patriarchal  government.  No 


134  PART    I.      T.1B  ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

independent  classes  or  orders,  as  iu  India,  have  interests  of 
their  own  to  defend.  All  is  directed  and  superintended 
i'roin  above.  All  legal  relations  are  definitely  settled  by 
rules ;  free  sentiment — the  moral  stand-point  generally — is 
thereby  thoroughly  obliterated.*  It  is  formally  determined 
by  the  laws  in  what  way  the  members  of  the  family  should  be 
disposed  towards  each  other,  and  the  transgression  of  these 
laws  entails  in  some  cases  severe  punishment.  The  second 
point  to  be  noticed  here,  is  the  legal  externality  of  the 
Family  relations,  which  becomes  almost  slavery.  Every  one 
has  the  power  of  selling  himself  and  his  children ;  every 
Chinese  buys  his  wife.  Only  the  chief  wife  is  a  free  woman. 
The  concubines  are  slaves,  and — like  the  children  and  every 
other  chattel — may  be  seized  upon  in  case  of  confiscation. 

A  third  point  is,  that  punishments  are  generally  corporal 
chastisements.  Among  us,  this  would  be  an  insult  to 
honour  ;  not  so  in  China,  where  the  feeling  of  honour 
lias  not  yet  developed  itself.  A  dose  of  cudgelling  is  the 
most  easily  forgotten  ;  yet  it  is  the  severest  punishment 
for  a  man  of  honour,  who  desires  not  to  be  esteemed  physi- 
cally assailable,  but  who  is  vulnerable  in  directions  implying 
a  more  refilled  sensibility.  But  the  Chinese  do  not  recognize 
11  subjectivity  in  honour ;  they  are  the  subjects  rather  of 
corrective  than  retributive  punishment — as  are  children 
among  us  ;  for  corrective  punishment  aims  at  improvement, 
that  which  is  retributive  implies  veritable  imputation  of  guilt. 
In  the  corrective,  the  deterring  principle  is  only  the  fear  of 
punishment,  not  any  consciousness  of  wrong  ;  for  here  we 
cannot  presume  upon  any  reflection  upon  the  nature  of  the 
action  itself.  Among  the  Chinese  all  crimes — those  com- 
mitted against  the  laws  of  the  Family  relation,  as  well  as 
against  the  State — are  punished  externally.  Sons  who  fail  in 
paying  due  honour  to  their  Father  or  Mother,  younger 

*  It  is  evident  that  the  term  "  moral  stand-point"  is  used  here  in  tlie 
strict  sense  in  which  Hegel  has  defined  it,  in  his  "  Philosophy  of  Law," 
as  that  of  the  self-determination  of  subjectivity,  free  conviction  of  the 
(iood.  The  reader,  therefore,  should  not  misunderstand  the  use  that  con- 
tinues to  be  made  of  the  terms,  morality,  moral  government,  &c  in 
reference  to  the  Chinese  ;  as  they  denote  morality  only  in  the  loose 
and  ordinary  meaning  of  the  word,— precepts  or  commands  given  with  * 
view  to  producing  good  behaviour, — without  bringing  into  relief  the 
element  of  internal  conviction. — ED. 


SECT.   I.      CHINA.  135 

brothers  who  are  not  sufficiently  respectful  to  elder  ones,  are 
bastinadoed.  If  a  son  complains  of  injustice  done  to  him  by 
his  father,  or  a  younger  brother  by  an  elder,  he  receives  a 
hundred  blows  with  a  bamboo,  and  is  banished  for  three 
years,  if  lie  is  in  the  right ;  if  not,  he  is  strangled.  If  a 
son  should  raise  his  hand  against  his  father,  he  is  condemned 
to  have  his  flesh  torn  from  his  body  with  red-hot  pincers. 
The  relation  between  husband  and  wife  is,  like  all  other 
family  relations,  very  highly  esteemed,  and  unfaithfulness, — 
which,  however,  on  account  of  the  seclusion  in  which  the 
women  are  kept,  can  very  seldom  present  itself,  —  meets 
with  severe  animadversion.  Similar  penalties  await  the 
exhibition  on  the  part  of  a  Chinese  of  greater  aifection  to 
one  of  his  inferior  wives  than  to  the  matron  who  heads  his 
establishment,  should  the  latter  complain  of  such  disparage- 
ment. In  China,  every  Mandarin  is  authorized  to  inflict 
blows  with  the  bamboo;  even  the  highest  and  most 
illustrious, —Ministers,  Viceroys,  and  even  the  favourites  of 
the  Emperor  himseli',—  are  punished  in  this  fashion.  The 
friendship  of  the  Emperor  is  not  withdrawn  on  account  of 
such  chastisement,  and  they  themselves  appear  not  sensibly 
touched  by  it.  When,  on  one  occasion,  the  last  English 
embassy  to  China  was  conducted  home  from  the  palace  by 
the  princes  and  their  retinue,  the  Master  of  the  Ceremonies, 
in  order  to  make  room,  without  any  ceremony  cleared  the 
way  among  the  princes  and  nobles  with  a  whip. 

As  regards  responsibility,  the  distinction  between  malice 
prepense  and  blameless  or  accidental  commission  of  an  act 
is  not  regarded  ;  for  accident  among  the  Chinese  is  as  much 
charged  with  blame,  as  intention.  Death  is  the  penalty  of  ac- 
cidental homicide.  This  ignoring  of  the  distinction  between 
accident  and  intention  occasions  most  of  the  disputes  between 
the  English  and  the  Chinese  ;  for  should  the  former  be  at- 
tacked by  the  latter, — should  a  ship  of  war,  believing  itself  at- 
tacked, defend  itself,  and  a  Chinese  be  killed  as  the  conse- 
quence,— the  Chinese  are  accustomed  to  require  that  the 
Englishman  who  fired  the  fatal  shot  should  lose  his  life.  Every 
one  who  is  in  anyway  connected  with  the  transgressor,  shares, 
— especially  in  the  case  of  crimes  against  the  Emperor, — the 
ruin  of  the  actual  offender:  all  his  near  kinsmen  are  tortured 
to  death.  The  printers  of  an  objectionable  book  and  these 


30  PAET    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

who  read  it,  are  similarly  exposed  to  the  vengeance  of  the  law. 
The  direction  which  this  state  of  things  gives  to  private  re- 
venge is  singular.  It  may  be  said  of  the  Chinese  that  they 
are  extremely  sensitive  to  injuries  and  of  a  vindictive  nature. 
To  satisfy  his  revenge  the  offended  person  does  not  venture  to 
kill  his  opponent,  because  the  whole  family  of  the  assassin 
would  be  put  to  death  ;  he  therefore  inflicts  an  injury  on 
himself,  to  ruin  his  adversary.  In  many  towns  it  has  been 
deemed  necessary  to  contract  the  openings  of  wells,  to  put  a 
stop  to  suicides  by  drowning.  For  when  any  one  has 
committed  suicide,  the  laws  ordain  that  the  strictest  investi- 
gation shall  be  made  into  the  cause.  All  the  enemies  of  the 
suicide  are  arrested  and  put  to  the  torture,  and  if  the  person 
who  has  committed  the  insult  which  led  to  the  act,  can  be 
discovered,  he  and  his  whole  family  are  executed.  In  case  of 
insult  therefore,  a  Chinese  prefers  killing  himself  rather  than 
his  opponent ;  since  in  either  case  he  must  die,  but  in  the 
former  contingency  will  have  the  due  honours  of  burial,  and 
may  cherish  the  hope  that  his  family  will  acquire  the  pro- 
perty of  his  adversary.  Such  is  the  fearful  state  of  things 
in  regard  to  responsibility  and  non-responsibility ;  all  sub- 
jective freedom  and  moral  concernment  with  an  action  is 
ignored.  In  the  Mosaic  Laws,  where  the  distinction  between 
dolus,  culpa,  and  casus,  is  also  not  yet  clearly  recognized, 
there  is  nevertheless  an  asylum  opened  for  the  innocent  homi- 
cide, to  which  he  may  betake  himself. — There  is  in  China 
no  distinction  in  the  penal  code  between  higher  and  lower 
classes.  A  field-marshal  of  the  Empire,  who  had  very  much 
distinguished  himself,  was  traduced  on  some  account,  to 
the  Emperor;  and  the  punishment  for  the  alleged  crime,  was 
that  he  should  be  a  spy  upon  those  who  did  not  fulfil  their 
duty  in  clearing  away  the  snow  from  the  streets. — Among 
the  legal  relations  of  the  Chinese  we  have  also  to  notice 
changes  in  the  rights  of  possession  and  the  introduction 
of  slavery,  which  is  connected  there  with  it.  The  soil  of 
China,  in  which  the  chief  possessions  of  the  Chinese  consist, 
was  regarded  only  at  a  late  epoch  as  essentially  the  property 
of  the  State.  At  that  time  the  Ninth  of  all  monies  from 
estates  was  allotted  by  law  to  the  Emperor.  At  a  still  later 
epoch  serfdom  was  established,  and  its  enactment  has  been 
ascribed  to  the  Emperor  Shi-hoang-ti,  who  in  the  year  213 


SECT.    I.       CHINA.  1#7 

B.  c.,  built  the  Great  Wall ;  who  had  all  the  writings  that 
recorded  the  ancient  rights  of  the  Chinese,  burned ;  and  who 
brought  many  independent  principalities  of  China  under  his 
dominion.  His  wars  caused  the  conquered  lands  to  becomd 
private  property,  and  the  dwellers  on  these  lands,  serfs.  In 
China,  however,  the  distinction  between  Slavery  and  freedom 
is  necessarily,  not  great,  since  all  are  equal  before  the  Em- 
peror— that  is,  all  are  alike  degraded.  As  no  honour  exists, 
and  no  one  has  an  individual  right  in  respect  of  others,  the 
consciousness  of  debasement  predominates,  and  this  easily 
passes  into  that  of  utter  abandonment.  With  this  aban- 
donment is  connected  the  great  immorality  of  the  Chinese. 
They  are  notorious  for  deceiving  wherever  they  can.  Friend 
deceives  friend,  and  no  one  resents  tho  attempt  at  deception 
on  the  part  of  another,  if  the  deceit  has  not  succeeded 
in  its  object,  or  comes  to  the  knowledge  of  the  person  sought 
to  be  defrauded.  Their  frauds  are  most  astutely  and  craft- 
ily performed,  so  that  Europeans  have  to  be  painfully  cautious 
in  dealing  with  them.  Their  consciousness  of  moral  aban- 
donment shews  itself  also  in  the  fact  that  the  religion  of  Fo 
is  so  widely  diffused ;  a  religion  which  regards  as  the  Highest 
and  Absolute — as  God— pure  Nothing  ;  which  sets  up  con- 
tempt for  individuality,  for  personal  existence,  as  the 
highest  perfection. 

We  come,  then,  to  the  consideration  of  the  religious  side 
of  the  Chinese  Polity.  In  the  patriarchal  condition  the 
religious  exaltation  of  man  has  merely  a  human  reference, — 
simple  morality  and  right-doing  The  Absolute  itself,  is 
regarded  partly  as  the  abstract,  simple  rule  of  this  right- 
doing — eternal  rectitude;  partly  as  the  power  whichis  its  sanc- 
tion. Except  in  these  simple  aspects,  all  the  relations  of  the 
natural  world,  the  postulates  of  subjectivity — of  heart  and 
soul— are  entirely  ignored.  The  Chinese  in  their  patriarcha. 
despotism  need  no  such  connection  or  mediation  with  the 
Highest  Being;  for  education,  the  laws  of  morality  and 
courtesy,  and  the  commands  and  government  of  the  Emperor 
embody  all  such  connection  and  mediation  as  far  as  they  feel 
the  need  of  ir.  The  Emperor,  as  he  is  the  Supreme  Head  of 
the  State,  is  also  the  Chief  of  its  religion.  Consequently, 
religion  is  in  China  essentially  State-Religion.  The  distinc- 
tion between  it  and  Lamaism  must  be  observed,  siuce  tk* 


138  PART  i.     THE  ORIENTAL  WOULD. 

latter  is  not  developed  to  a  State,  but  contains  religion  as  a 
free,  spiritual,  disinterested  consciousness.  That  Chinese 
religion  therefore,  cannot  be  what  we  call  religion.  For 
to  us  religion  means  the  retirement  of  the  Spirit  within 
itself,  in  contemplating  its  essential  nature,  its  inmost  Being. 
In  these  spheres,  then,  man  is  withdrawn  from  his  relation 
to  the  State,  and  betaking  himself  to  this  retirement,  is  able 
to  release  himself  from  the  power  of  secular  government.  But 
in  China  religion  has  not  risen  to  this  grade,  for  true  faith 
is  possible  only  where  individuals  can  seclude  themselves, 
— can  exist  for  themselves  independently  of  any  external 
compulsory  power.  In  China  the  individual  has  no  such  life  ; 
— does  not  enjoy  this  independence:  in  any  direction  he 
is  therefore  dependent ;  in  religion  as  well  as  in  other  things; 
that  is,  dependent  on  objects  of  nature,  of  which  the  most 
exalted  is  the  material  heaven.  On  this  depend  harvest,  the 
seasons  of  the  year,  the  abundance  and  sterility  of  crops.  The 
Emperor,  as  crown  of  all,  —the  embodiment  of  power, — alone 
approaches  heaven  ;  individuals,  as  such,  enjoy  no  such  pri- 
vilege. He  it  is,  who  presents  the  offerings  at  the  four 
feasts  ;  gives  thanks  at  the  head  of  his  court,  for  the  harvest, 
and  invokes  blessings  on  the  sowing  of  the  seed.  This 
"heaven"  might  be  taken  in  the  sense  of  our  term  "  God," 
as  the  Lord  of  Nature  ;  (we  say,  for  example, '•  Heaven  pro- 
tect us ! ")  ;  but  such  a  relation  is  beyond  the  scope  of 
Chinese  thought,  for  here  the  one  isolated  self-consciousness 
is  substantial  being,  the  Emperor  himself,  the  Supreme 
Power.  Heaven  has  therefore  no  higher  meaning  than  Na- 
ture. The  Jesuits  indeed,  yielded  to  Chinese  notions  so  far 
as  to  call  the  Christian  God,  "  Heaven"  — "Tien  ;"  but  they 
were  on  that  account  accused  to  the  Pope  by  other  Christian 
Orders.  The  Pope  consequently  sent  a  Cardinal  to  China, 
who  died  there.  A  bishop  who  was  subsequently  dispatched, 
enacted  that  instead  of  "Heaven,"  the  term  "Lord  of 
Heaven"  should  be  adopted.  The  relation  to  Tien  is  sup- 
posed to  be  such,  that  the  good  conduct  of  individuals  and 
of  the  Emperor  brings  blessing ;  their  transgressions  on  the 
other  hand  cause  want  and  evil  of  all  kinds.  The  Chinese 
religion  involves  that  primitive  element  of  magical  influence 
over  nature,  inasmuch  as  human  conduct  absolutely  deter- 
mines the  course  of  events.  If  the  Emperor  behaves  wel', 


SECT.    I.      CHINA.  139 

prosperity  cannot  but  ensue ;  Heaven  must  ordain  prosperity. 
A  second  side  of  this  religion  is,  that  as  the  general  aspect 
of  the  relation  to  Heaven  is  bound  up  with  the  person  of 
the  Emperor,  he  has  also  its  more  special  bearings  in  his 
hands ;  viz.  the  particular  well-being  of  individuals  and 
provinces.  These  have  each  an  appropriate  Genius  (Chen), 
which  is  subject  to  the  Emperor,  who  pays  adoration  only 
to  the  general  Power  of  Heaven,  while  the  several  Spirits 
of  the  natur.il  world  follow  his  laws.  He  is  thus  made 
the  proper  legislator  for  Heaven  as  well  as  for  earth.  To 
these  Genii,  each  of  which  enjoys  a  worship  peculiar  to 
itself,  certain  sculptured  forms  are  assigned.  These  are  dis- 
gusting idols,  which  have  not  yet  attained  the  dignity  of  art, 
because  nothing  spiritual  is  represented  in  them.  They  are 
therefore  only  terrific,  frightful  and  negative ;  they  keep 
watch, — as  among  the  Greeks  do  the  liiver-Gods,  the 
Nymphs,  and  Dryads, — over  single  elements  and  natural 
objects.  Each  of  the  five  Elements  has  its  genius,  distin- 
guished by  a  particular  colour.  The  sovereignty  of  the 
dynasty  that  occupies  the  throne  of  China  also  depends  on 
a  Genius,  and  this  one  has  a  yellow  colour.  Not  less  does 
every  province  and  town,  every  mountain  and  river  possess 
an  appropriate  Genius.  All  these  Spirits  are  subordinate  to 
the  Emperor,  and  in  the  Annual  Directory  of  the  Empire  are 
registered  the  functionaries  and  genii  to  whom  such  or  such 
a  brook,  river,  &c.,  has  been  entrusted.  If  a  mischance 
occurs  in  any  part,  the  Genius  is  deposed  as  a  Mandarin 
would  be.  The  Genii  have  innumerable  temples  (in  Pelrn 
nearly  10,000)  to  which  a  multitude  of  priests  and  convents 
are  attached.  These  "  Bonzes"  live  unmarried,  and  in  all 
cases  of  distress  are  applied  to  by  the  Chinese  for  counsel. 
In  other  respects,  however,  neither  they  nor  the  temples  are 
much  venerated.  Lord  Macartney's  Embassy  was  even  quar- 
tered in  a  temple,  -  such  buildings  being  used  as  inns.  The 
Emperor  has  sometimes  thought  fit  to  secularise  many 
thousands  of  these  convents;  to  compel  the  Bonzes  to 
return  to  civil  life  ;  and  to  impose  taxes  on  the  estates 
appertaining  to  the  foundations.  The  Bonzes  are  sooth- 
sayers and  exorcists:  for  the  Chinese  are  given  up  to 
boundless  superstitions.  This  arises  from  the  want  of 
subjective  independence,  and  pre-supposes  the  very  opposite 


140  PART  i      THE  ORIENTAL  WOSLD. 

of  freedom  of  Spirit.  In  every  undertaking, — e.g.  if  the  site 
of  a  house,  or  of  a  grave,  &c.,  is  to  be  determined,— -the  advice 
of  the  Soothsayers  is  asked.  In  the  Y-King  certain  lines 
are  givenr  which  supply  fundamental  forms  and  categories, — 
on  account  of  which  this  book  is  called  the  "  Book  of  Fates." 
A  certain  meaning  is  ascribed  to  the  combination  of  such 
lines,  and  prophetic  announcements  are  deduced  from  this 
groundwork.  Or  a  number  of  little  sticks  are  thrown  into 
the  air,  and  the  fate  in  question  is  prognosticated  from  the 
way  in  which  they  fall.  What  we  regard  as  chance,  as  na- 
tural connection,  the  Chinese  seek  to  deduce  or  attain  by 
magical  arts ;  and  in  this  particular  also,  their  want  of 
spiritual  religion  is  manifested. 

With  this  deficiency  of  genuine  subjectivity  is  connected 
moreover,  the  form  which  Chinese  Science  assumes.  In 
mentioning  Chinese  sciences  we  encounter  a  considerable 
clamour  about  their  perfection  and  antiquity.  Approaching 
the  subject  more  closely,  we  see  that  the  sciences  enjoy  very 
great  respect,  and  that  they  are  even  publicly  extolled  and 
promoted  by  the  Government.  The  Emperor  himself  stands 
at  the  apex  of  literature.  A  college  exists  whose  special 
business  it  is  to  edit  the  decrees  of  the  Emperor,  with  a 
view  to  their  being  composed  in  the  best  style ;  and  this 
redaction  assumes  the  character  of  an  important  affair  of 
State.  The  Mandarins  in  their  notifications  have  to  study 
the  same  perfection  of  style,  for  the  form  is  expected  to 
correspond  with  the  excellence  of  the  matter.  One  of  the 
highest  Governmental  Boards  is  the  Academy  of  Sciences. 
The  Emperor  himself  examines  its  members  ;  they  live  in  the 
palace,  and  perform  the  functions  of  Secretaries,  Historians  of 
the  Empire,  Natural  Philosophers,  and  Geo  .raphers.  Should 
a  new  law  be  proposed,  the  Academy  must  report  upon  it. 
By  way  of  introduction  to  such  report  it  must  give  the 
history  of  existing  enactments  ;  or  if  the  law  in  question 
affects  foreign  countries,  a  description  of  them  is  required. 
The  Emperor  himself  writes  the  prefaces  to  the  works  thus 
composed.  Among  recent  Emperors  Kien-long  especially 
distinguished  himself  by  his  scientific  acquirements.  He 
himself  wrote  much,  but  became  far  more  remarkable 
by  publishing  the  principal  works  that  China  had  pro- 
duced. At  the  head  of  the  commission  appointed  to  correct 


SECT.    I.       CHINA.  141 

the  press,  was  a  Prince  of  the  Empire  ;  and  after  the  work 
had  passed  through  the  hands  of  all,  it  came  once  more  back 
to  the  Emperor,  who  severely  punished  every  error  that  had 
been  committed. 

Though  in  one  aspect  the  sciences  appear  thus  preeminently- 
honoured  and  fostered,  there  is  wanting  to  them  on  the 
other  side  that  free  ground  of  subjectivity,  and  that  properly 
scientific  interest,  which  makes  them  a  truly  theoretical  oc- 
cupation of  the  mind.  A  free,  ideal,  spiritual  kingdom  has 
here  no  place.  What  may  be  called  scientific  is  of  a  merely 
empirical  nature,  and  is  made  absolutely  subservient  to  the 
Useful  on  behalf  of  the  State — its  requirements  and  those 
of  individuals.  The  nature  of  their  Written  Language  is  at 
the  outset  a  great  hindrance  to  the  development  of  the 
sciences.  Kather,  conversely,  because  a  true  scientific  in- 
terest does  not  exist,  the  Chinese  have  acquired  no  better 
instrument  for  representing  and  imparting  thought.  They 
have,  as  is  well  known,  beside  a  Spoken  Language,  a 
Written  Language ;  which  does  not  express,  as  our  does,  in- 
dividual sounds — does  not  present  the  spoken  words  to  the  eye, 
but  represents  the  ideas  themselves  by  signs.  This  appears 
at  first  sight  a  great  advantage,  and  has  gained  the  suffrages 
of  many  great  men, — amoirg  others,  of  Leibnitz.  In  reality 
it  is  anything  but  such.  For  if  we  consider  in  the  first  place, 
the  effect  of  such  a  mode  of  writing  on  the  Spoken  Language, 
we  shall  find  this  among  the  Chinese  very  imperfect,  on 
account  of  that  separation.  For  our  Spoken  Language  is 
matured  to  distinctness  chiefly  through  the  necessity  of 
finding  signs  for  each  single  sound,  which  latter,  by  reading, 
\\e  learn  to  express  distinctly.  The  Chinese,  to  whom  such 
a  means  of  orthoepic  development  is  wanting,  do  not  mature 
the  modifications  of  sounds  in  their  language  to  distinct  ar- 
ticulations capable  of  being  represented  by  letters  and  syl- 
lables. Their  Spoken  Language  consists  of  an  inconsiderable 
number  of  monosyllabic  words,  which  are  used  with  more 
than  one  signification.  The  sole  methods  of  denoting  dis- 
tinctions of  meaning  are  the  connection,  the  accent,  and  the 
pronunciation, — quicker  or  slower,  softer  or  louder.  The  ears 
of  the  Chinese  have  become  very  sensible  to  such  distinctions. 
Thus  I  find  that  the  word  Po  has  eleven  different  meanings 
according  to  the  tone  :  denoting  "  glass  " — "  to  boil " — 


14:2  PAKT    I.       THE    ORIENTAL   WOULD. 

"  to  winnow  wheat"— "to  cleave  asunder" — "to  water"— 
"  to  prepare  " — "  an  old  woman  "— "  a  slave  " — "  a  liberal 
man" — "a  wise  person" — "  a  little."— As  to  their  Written 
Language,  I  will  specify  only  the  obstacles  which  it  presents 
to  the  advance  of  the  sciences.  Our  Written  Language  is 
very  simple  for  a  learner,  as  we  analyse  our  Spoken  Lan- 
guage into  about  twenty-five  articulations,  by  which  ana- 
lysis, speech  is  rendered  definite,  the  multitude  of  possible 
Bounds  is  limited,  and  obscure  intermediate  sounds  are 
banished :  we  have  to  learn  only  these  signs  and  their 
combinations.  Instead  of  twenty-five  signs  of  this  sort,  the 
Chinese  have  many  thousands  to  learn.  The  number  neces- 
sary for  use  is  reckoned  at  9353,  or  even  10,516,  if  we  add 
those  recently  introduced ;  and  the  number  of  characters 
generally,  for  ideas  and  their  combinations  as  they  are 
presented  in  books,  amounts  to  from  80  to  90,000.  As 
to  the  sciences  themselves,  History  among  the  Chinese  com- 
prehends the  bare  and  definite  facts,  without  any  opinion  or 
reasoning  upon  them.  In  the  same  way  their  Jurisprudence 
gives  only  fixed  laws,  and  their  Ethics  only  determinate 
duties,  without  raising  the  question  of  a  subjective  founda- 
tion for  them.  The  Chinese  have,  however,  in  addition  to 
other  sciences,  a  Philosophy,  whose  elementary  principles 
are  of  great  antiquity,  since  the  Y-King — the  Book  of  Fates 
— treats  of  Origination  and  Destruction.  In  this  book  are 
found  the  purely  abstract  ideas  of  Unity  and  Duality  ;  the 
Philosophy  of  the  Chinese  appears  therefore  to  proceed  from 
the  same  fundamental  ideas  as  that  of  Pythagoras  *  The 
fundamental  principle  recognised  is  Season — Tao  ;  that  es- 
sence lying  at  the  basis  of  the  whole,  which  effects  everything. 
To  become  acquainted  with  its  forms  is  regarded  among  the 
Chinese  also  as  the  highest  science  ;  yet  this  has  no  connec- 
tion with  the  educational  pursuits  which  more-nearly  concern 
the  State.  The  works  of  Lao-tse,  and  especially  his  work 
•*  Tao-te-King,"  are  celebrated.  Confucius  visited  this  philo- 
sopher in  the  sixth  century  before  Christ,  to  testify  his  re- 
verence for  him.  Although  every  Chinaman  is  at  liberty  to 
study  these  philosophical  works,  a  particular  sect,  calling 
itself  Tao-tse,  "  Honourers  of  Eeason,"  makes  this  study 

*  Vide  Hegel's  "  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  Geschichte  der  Philosophic," 
I  ol.  L  p.  138,  &•. 


SECT.    1.       CHINA.  143 

its  special  business.  Those  who  compose  it  are  isolated 
from  civil  life  ;  and  there  is  much  that  is  enthusiastic  and 
mystic  intermingled  with  their  views.  They  believe,  for 
instance,  that  he  who  is  acquainted  with  K/eason,  possesses 
;m  instrument  of  universal  power,  which  may  be  regarded  as 
all-powerful,  arid  which  communicates  a  supernatural  might ; 
«o  that  the  possessor  is  enabled  by  it  to  exalt  himself  to 
Heaven,  and  is  not  subject  to  death  (much  the  same  as  the 
universal  Elixir  of  Life  once  talked  of  among  us.)  With  the 
works  of  Confucius  we  have  become  more  intimately  ac- 
quainted. To  him,  China  owes  the  publication  of  the 
Kings,  and  many  original  works  on  Morality  besides,  which 
form  the  basis  of  the  customs  and  conduct  of  the  Chinese. 
In  the  principal  work  of  Confucius,  which  has  been  trans- 
lated into  English,  are  found  correct  moral  apophthegms ; 
but  there  is  a  circumlocution,  a  reflex  character,  and  cir- 
cuitousness  in  the  thought,  which  prevents  it  from  rising 
above  mediocrity.  As  to  the  other  sciences,  they  are  not 
regarded  as  such,  but  rather  as  branches  of  knowledge  for 
the  behoof  of  practical  ends.  The  Chinese  are  far  behind 
in  Mathematics,  Physics,  and  Astronomy,  notwithstanding 
their  quondam  reputation  in  regard  to  them.  They  knew 
many  things  at  a  time  when  Europeans  had  not  discovered 
them,  but  they  have  not  understood  how  to  apply  their 
knowledge :  as  e.  g.  the  Magnet,  and  the  Art  of  Printing. 
But  they  have  made  no  advance  in  the  application  of  these 
discoveries.  In  the  latter,  for  instance,  they  continue  to 
engrave  the  letters  in  wooden  blocks  and  then  print  them 
off:  they  know  nothing  of  moveable  types.  G-unpowder, 
too,  they  pretended  to  have  invented  before  the  Europeans  ; 
but  the  Jesuits  were  obliged  to  found  their  first  cannon. 
As  to  Mathematics,  they  understand  well  enough  how  to 
reckon,  but  the  higher  aspect  of  the  science  is  unknown. 
The  Chinese  also  have  long  passed  as  great  astronomers. 
Laplace  has  investigated  their  acquisitions  in  this  department, 
and  discovered  that  they  possess  some  ancient  accounts  and 
notices  of  Lunar  and  Solar  Eclipses ;  but  these  certainly  do 
not  constitute  a  science.  The  notices  in  question  are,  more- 
over, so  indefinite,  that  they  cannot  properly  be  put  in  the 
category  of  knowledge.  In  the  Shu-King,  e.  g.  we  havo 
two  eclijvses  of  the  sun  mentioned  in  a  space  of  1500  years. 


144  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

The  best  evidence  of  the  state  of  Astronomy  among  the 
Chinese,  is  the  fact  that  for  many  hundred  years  the  Chinese 
calendars  have  been  made  by  Europeans.  In  earlier  times, 
when  Chinese  astronomers  continued  to  compose  the  calendar, 
false  announcements  of  lunar  and  solar  eclipses  often  oc- 
curred, entailing  the  execution  of  the  authors.  The  teles- 
copes which  the  Chinese  have  received  as  presents  from  the 
Europeans,  are  set  up  fer  ornament ;  but  they  have  not  an 
idea  how  to  make  further  use  of  them.  Medicine,  too,  is 
studied  by  the  Chinese,  but  only  empirically ;  and  the 
grossest  superstition  is  connected  with  its  practice.  The 
Chinese  have  as  a  general  characteristic,  a  remarkable  skill 
in  imitation,  which  is  exercised  not  merely  in  daily  life,  but 
also  in  art.  They  have  not  yet  succeeded  in  representing 
the  beautiful,  as  beautiful ;  for  in  their  painting,  perspective 
and  shadow  are  wanting.  And  although  a  Chinese 
painter  copies  European  pictures  (as  the  Chinese  do  every- 
thing else)  correctly ;  although  he  observes  accurately  how 
snany  scales  a  carp  has  ;  how  many  indentations  there  are  in 
the  leaves  of  a  tree  ;  what  is  the  form  of  various  trees,  and 
how  the  branches  bend  ; — the  Exalted,  the  Ideal  and  Beau- 
tiful is  not  the  domain  of  his  art  and  skill.  The  Chinese 
are,  on  the  other  hand,  too  proud  to  learn  anything  from 
Europeans,  although  they  must  often  recognize  their  su- 
periority. A  merchant  in  Canton  had  a  European  ship 
built,  but  at  the  command  of  the  Governor  it  was  imme- 
diately destroyed.  The  Europeans  are  treated  as  beggars, 
because  they  are  compelled  to  leave  their  home,  and  seek 
for  support  elsewhere  than  in  their  own  country.  Besides, 
the  Europeans,  just  because  of  their  intelligence,  have  not 
yet  been  able  to  imitate  the  superficial  and  perfectly  natural 
cleverness  of  the  Chinese.  Their  preparation  of  varnishes, 
— their  working  of  metals,  and  especially  their  art  of  casting 
them  extremely  thin, — their  porcelain  manufacture  and  many 
other  things,  have  not  yet  been  completely  mastered  by 
Europeans. 

This  is  the  character  of  the  Chinese  people  in  its  various 
aspects.  Its  distinguishing  feature  is,  that  everything 
which  belongs  to  Spirit, — unconstrained  morality,  in  practice 
and  theory.  Heart,  inward  Religion,  Science  and  Art  pro- 
perly so  called, — is  alien  to  it.  The  Emperor  always  speak* 


SECT.    II.        INDIA.  1-15 

with  majesty  and  paternal  kindness  and  tenderness  to  the 
people  ;  who,  however,  cherish  the  meanest  opinion  of  them- 
selves, and  believe  that  they  are  born  only  to  drag  the  car  of 
Imperial  Power.  The  burden  which  presses  them  to  the 
ground,  seems  to  them  to  be  their  inevitable  destiny ;  and 
it  appears  nothing  terrible  to  them  to  sell  themselves  as 
slaves,  and  to  eat  the  bitter  bread  of  slavery.  Suicide,  the 
result  of  revenge,  and  the  exposure  of  children,  as  a  com- 
mon, even  daily  occurrence,  shew  the  little  respect  in  which 
they  hold  themselves  individually,  and  humanity  in  general. 
And  though  there  is  no  distinction  conferred  by  birth,  and 
every  one  can  attain  the  highest  dignity,  this  very  equality 
testifies  to  no  triumphant  assertion  of  the  worth  of  the  inner 
man,  but  a  servile  consciousness — one  which  has  not  yet 
matured  itself  so  far  as  to  recognise  distinctions. 


SECTION  II. 

INDIA. 

INDIA,  like  China,  is  a  phenomenon  antique  as  well  aa 
modern  ;  one  which  has  remained  stationary  and  fixed,  and 
has  received  a  most  perfect  home-sprung  development.  It 
has  always  been  the  land  of  imaginative  aspiration,  and 
appears  to  us  still  as  a  Fairy  region,  an  enchanted  World. 
In  contrast  with  the  Chinese  State,  which  presents  only 
the  most  prosaic  Understanding,*  India  is  the  region  of 
phantasy  and  sensibility.  The  point  of  advance  in  principle 
which  it  exhibits  to  us  may  be  generally  stated  as  follows : — • 
In  China  the  patriarchal  principle  rules  a  people  in  a  condi- 
tion of  nonage,  the  part  of  whose  moral  resolution  is  oc- 
cupied by  the  regulating  law,  and  the  moral  oversight  of  the 
Emperor.  Now  it  is  the  interest  of  Spirit  that  external  con- 
ditions should  become  internal  ones  ;  that  the  natural  and 
the  spiritual  world  should  be  recognized  in  the  subjective 
aspect  belonging  to  intelligence ;  by  which  process  the  unity  of 
subjectivity  and  [positive]  Being  generally — or  the  Idealism 
of  Existence — is  established.  This  Idealism,  then,  is  found 

*  "  Verstand  "  — "  receptive  understanding,"  in  contrast  with  "  Vcr- 
uunft," — "  ftubstential  and  creative  intellect." — TR. 

L 


140  PART  i.     THE  ORIENTAL  WOULD. 

in  India,  but  only  as  an  Idealism  of  imagination,  without 
distinct  conceptions ; — one  which  does  indeed  free  existence 
from  Beginning  and  Matter,  [liberates  it  from  temporal 
limitations  and  gross  materiality],  but  changes  everything 
into  the  merely  Imaginative  ;  for  although  the  latter  appears 
interwoven  with  definite  conceptions  and  Thought  presents 
itself  as  an  occasional  concomitant,  this  happens  only 
through  accidental  combination.  Since,  however,  it  is  the 
abstract  and  absolute  Thought  itself  that  enters  into  these 
dreams  as  their  material,  we  may  say  that  Absolute  Being 
is  presented  here  as  in  the  ecstatic  state  of  a  dreaming 
condition.  For  we  have  not  the  dreaming  of  an  actual 
Individual,  possessing  distinct  personality,  and  simply  unfet- 
tering the  latter  from  limitation,  but  we  have  the  dreaming 
of  the  unlimited  absolute  Spirit. 

There  is  a  beauty  of  a  peculiar  kind  in  women,  in  which 
their  countenance  presents  a  transparency  of  skin,  a  light 
and  lovely  roseate  hue,  which  is  unlike  the  complexion  of 
mere  health  and  vital  vigour, — a  more  refined  bloom, breathed, 
as  it  were,  by  the  soul  within, — and  in  which  the  features, 
the  light  of  the  eye,  the  position  of  the  mouth,  appear  soft, 
yielding,  and  relaxed.  This  almost  unearthly  beauty  is  per- 
ceived in  women  in  those  days  which  immediately  succeed 
child-birth  ;  when  freedom  from  the  burden  of  pregnancy  and 
the  pains  of  travail  is  added  to  the  joy  of  soul  that  welcomes 
the  gift  of  a  beloved  infant.  A  similar  tone  of  beauty  is 
seen  also  in  women  during  the  magical  somnambulic  sleep, 
connecting  them  with  a  world  of  superterrestrial  beauty.  A 
great  artist  (Schoreel)  has  moreover  given  this  tone  to  the 
dying  Mary,  whose  spirit  is  already  rising  to  the  regions  of 
the  blessed,  but  once  more,  as  it  were,  lights  up  her  dying 
countenance  for  a  farewell  kiss.  Such  a  beauty  we  find  also 
in  it»  loveliest  form  in  the  Indian  World  ;  a  beauty  of  ener- 
vation in  which  all  that  is  rough,  rigid  and  contradictory  is 
dissolved,  and  we  have  only  the  soul  in  a  state  of  emotion, — 
a  soul,  however,  in.  which  the  death  of  free  self-reliant  Spirit 
is  perceptible.  For  should  we  approach  the  charm  of  this 
Flower-life, — a  charm  rich  in  imagination  and  genius, — in 
which  its  whole  environment  and  all  its  relations  are  per- 
meated by  the  rose-breath  of  the  Soul,  and  the  World  is 
transformed  into  a  Garden  of  Love, — should  we  look  at  it 


SECT,    II.       INDIA.  147 

more  closely,  and  examine  it  in  the  light  of  Human  Dignity 
and  Freedom, — the  more  attractive  the  first  sight  of  it  had 
been,  so  much  the  more  unworthy  shall  we  ultimately  fine 
it  in  every  respect. 

The  character  of  Spirit  in  a  state  of  Dream,  as  the  generic 
principle  of  the  Hindoo  Nature,  must  be  further  defined. 
In  a  dream,  the  individual  ceases  to  be  conscious  of  self  as 
such,  in  contradistinction  from  objective  existences.  "When 
awake,  I  exist  for  myself,  and  the  rest  of  creation  is  an  ex- 
ternal, fixed  objectivity,  as  I  myself  am  for  it.  As  exter- 
nal, the  rest  of  existence  expands  itself  to  a  rationally  con- 
nected whole ;  a  system  of  relations,  in  which  my  individual 
being  is  itself  a  member — an  individual  being  united  with 
that  totality.  This  is  the  sphere  of  Understanding.  In  the 
state  of  dreaming,  on  the  contrary,  this  separation  is  sus- 
pended. Spirit  has  ceased  to  exist  for  itself  in  contrast  with 
alien  existence,  and  thus  the  separation  of  the  external  and 
individual  dissolves  before  its  universality — its  essence.  The 
dreaming  Indian  is  therefore  all  that  we  call  finite  and  indi- 
vidual ;  and,  at  the  same  time — as  infinitely  universal  and  un- 
limited— a  something  intrinsically  divine.  The  Indian  view 
of  things  is  a  Universal  Pantheism,  a  Pantheism,  however, 
of  Imagination,  not  of  Thought.  One  substance  pervades 
the  Whole  of  things,  and  all  individualizations  are  directly 
vitalized  and  animated  into  particular  Powers.  The  sensuous 
matter  and  content  is  in  each  case  simply  and  in  the  rough 
taken  up,  and  carried  over  into  the  sphere  of  the  Universal 
and  Immeasurable.  It  is  not  liberated  by  the  free  power  of 
Spirit  into  a  beautiful  form,  and  idealized  in  the  Spirit,  so 
that  the  sensuous  might  be  a  merely  subservient  and  com- 
pliant expression  of  the  spiritual ;  but  [the  sensuous  object 
itself]  is  expanded  into  the  immeasurable  and  undefined, 
and  the  Divine  is  thereby  made  bizarre,  confused,  and 
ridiculous.  These  dreams  are  not  mere  fables— a  play  of 
the  imagination,  in  which  the  soul  only  revelled  in  fan- 
tastic gambols  :  it  is  lost  in  them ;  hurried  to  and  fro  by 
these  reveries,  as  by  something  that  exists  really  and  se- 
riously for  it.  It  is  delivered  over  to  these  limited  objects 
as  to  its  Lords  and  Q-ods.  Everything,  therefore — Sun, 
Moon,  Stars,  I/he  Ganges,  the  Indus,  Beasts,  Flowers — every- 
thing is  a  Grod  to  it.  And  while,  in  this  deification,  the 

L  2 


1-1*5  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WOULD. 

Unite  loses   its  consistency   and   substantiality,   intelligent 
conception  of  it  is  impossible.     Conversely  the  Divine,  re- 
garded as  essentially  changeable  and  unfixed,  is  also  by  the 
base  form  which  it  assumes,  defiled  and  made  absurd.     In 
this  universal  deification  of  all  finite  existence,  and  conse- 
quent degradation  of  the  Divine,  the  idea  of  Theanthropy, 
the  incarnation  of  God,  is  not  a  particularly  important  con- 
ception.    The  parrot,  the  cow,  the  ape,  &c.  are  likewise 
incarnations  of  God,  yet  are  not  therefore  elevated  above 
their  nature.     The  Divine  is  not  individualized  to  a  subject, 
to  concrete  Spirit,  but  degraded  to  vulgarity  and  senseless- 
ness.    This  gives  us  a  general  idea  of  the  Indian  view  of  the 
Universe.     Things  are  as  much  stripped  of  rationality,  of 
finite  consistent  stability  of  cause  and  effect,  as  man  is  of  the 
stedfastness  of  free  individuality,  of  personality,  and  freedom. 
Externally,  India  sustains  manifold  relations  to  the  His- 
tory of  the  "World.     In  recent  times  the  discovery  has  been 
made,  that  the  Sanscrit  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  those 
farther  developments  which  form  the  languages  of  Europe  ; 
e.  g.  the  Greek,  Latin,  German.     India,  moreover,  was  the 
centre  of  emigration  for  all  the  western  world ;  but  this 
external  historical  relation  is  to  be  regarded  rather  as  a 
merely  physical  diffusion   of  peoples  from  this  point.     Al- 
though in  India  the  elements  of  further  developments  might 
be  discovered,  and  although  we  could  find  traces  of  their 
being  transmitted  to  the  West,  this  transmission  has  been 
nevertheless    so  abstract   [so  superficial],   that   that  which 
among  later  peoples  attracts  our  interest,  is  not  anything  de- 
rived from  India,  but  rather  something  concrete,  which  they 
themselves  have  formed,  and  in  regard  to  which  they  have 
done  their  best  to  forget  Indian  elements  of  culture.     The 
spread  of  Indian  culture  is   pre-historical,   for  History  is 
limited  to  that  which  makes  an  essential  epoch  in  the  deve- 
lopment of  Spirit.     On  the  whole,  the  diffusion  of  Indian 
culture  is  only  a  dumb,  deedless  expansion  ;  that  is,  it  pre- 
sents no  political  action.     The  people  of  India  havfe  achieved 
no  foreign  conquests,  but  have  been  on  every  occasion  van- 
quished themselves.     And  as  in  this  silent  way,  Northern 
India  has  been  a  centre  of  emigration,  productive  of  merely 
physical  diffusion,  India  as  a  Land  of  Desire  forms  an  essen- 
tial element  in  General  History.     From  the  most  ar  cirnt 


SECT.    II.       INDIA.  149 

times  downwards,  all  nations  have  directed  their  wishes  and 
longings  to  gaining  access  to  the  treasures  of  this  land  of 
marvels,  the  most  costly  which  the  Earth  presents  ;  trea- 
sures of  Nature — pearls,  diamonds,  perfumes,  rose-essences, 
elephants,  lions,  &c. — as  also  treasures  of  wisdom.  The  way 
by  which  these  treasures  have  passed  to  the  "West,  has  at  all 
times  been  a  matter  of  World-historical  importance,  bound 
up  with  the  fate  of  nations.  Those  wishes  have  been  realized  ; 
this  Land  of  Desire  has  been  attained ;  there  is  scarcely  any 
great  nation  of  the  East,  nor  of  the  Modern  European  West, 
that  has  not  gained  for  itself  a  smaller  or  larger  portion  of  it. 
In  the  old  world,  Alexander  the  Great  was  the  first  to 
penetrate  by  land  to  India,  but  even  he  only  just  touched 
it.  The  Europeans  of  the  modern  world  have  been  able  to 
enter  into  direct  connection  with  this  land  of  marvels  only 
circuitously  from  the  other  side;  and  by  way  of  the  sea, 
which,  as  has  been  said,  is  the  general  uniter  of  countries. 
The  English,  or  rather  the  East  India  Company,  are  the 
lords  of  the  land;  for  it  is  the  necessary  fate  of  Asiatic 
Empires  to  be  subjected  to  Europeans ;  and  China  will,  some 
day  or  other,  be  obliged  to  submit  to  this  fate.  The  num- 
ber of  inhabitants  is  near  200  millions,  of  whom  from  100  to 
112  millions  are  directly  subject  to  the  English.  The 
Princes  who  are  not  immediately  subject  to  them  have  Eng- 
lish Agents  at  their  Courts,  and  English  troops  in  their  pay. 
Since  the  country  of  the  Mahrattas  was  conquered  by  the 
English,  no  part  of  India  has  asserted  its  independence  of 
their  sway.  They  have  already  gained  a  footing  in  the 
Birman  Empire,  and  passed  the  Burrampooter,  which  bounds 
India  on  the  east. 

India  Proper  is  the  country  which  the  English  divide  into 
two  large  sections :  the  Deccan, — the  great  peninsula  which 
has  the  Bay  of  Bengal  on  the  east,  and  the  Indian  Sea  on  the 
west, — and  Hindostan,  formed  by  the  valley  of  the  Ganges, 
and  extending  in  the  direction  of  Persia.  To  the  north-east, 
Hindostan  is  bordered  by  the  Himmalaya,  which  has  been 
ascertained  by  Europeans  to  be  the  highest  mountain  rang« 
in  the  world,  for  its  summits  are  about  26,000  feet  above  tha 
level  of  the  sea.  On  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  the 
level  again  declines  ;  the  dominion  of  the  Chinese  extends  to 
that  point,  and  when  the  English  wished  to  go  to  La&sa  to 


I.-TG  PAET    I.       THE    ORIENTAL   WOEL1>. 

the  Dalai-Lama,  they  were  prevented  by  the  Chinese.  To- 
wards the  west  of  India  flows  the  Indus,  in  which  the  five 
rivers  are  united,  which  are  called  the  Pentjdb  (Punjab),  into 
which  Alexander  the  Great  penetrated.  The  dominion  of 
the  English  does  not  extend  to  the  Indus ;  the  sect  of  the 
Sikhs  inhabits  that  district,  whose  constitution  is  thoroughly 
democratic,  and  who  have  broken  off  from  the  Indian  as  well 
us  from  the  Mohammedan  religion,  and  occupy  an  interme- 
diate ground,  —  acknowledging  only  one  Supreme  Being. 
They  are  a  powerful  nation,  and  have  reduced  to  subjection 
Cabul  and  Cashmere.  Besides  these  there  dwell  along  the 
Indus  genuine  Indian  tribes  of  the  Warrior-Caste.  Between 
the  Indus  and  its  twin-brother,  the  Ganges,  are  great  plains. 
The  Ganges,  on  the  other  hand,  forms  large  Kingdoms 
around  it,  in  which  the  sciences  have  been  so  highly  deve- 
loped, that  the  countries  around  the  Ganges  enjoy  a  still 
greater  reputation  than  those  around  the  Indus.  The 
Kingdom  of  Bengal  is  especially  flourishing.  The  Ner- 
buddah  forms  the  boundary  between  the  Deccan  and  Hin- 
dostan.  The  peninsula  of  the  Deccan  presents  a  far  greater 
variety  than  Hindostau,  and  its  rivers  possess  almost  as 
great  a  sanctity  as  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges, — which  latter 
has  become  a  general  name  for  all  the  rivers  in  India,  as  the 
Eiver  KUT  i^o^v.  We  call  the  inhabitants  of  the  great 
country  which  we  have  now  to  consider  Indians,  from  the 
river  Indus  (the  English  call  them  Hindoos).  They  them- 
selves have  never  given  a  name  to  the  whole,  for  it  has  never 
become  one  Empire,  and  yet  we  consider  it  as  such. 

AVith  regard  to  the  political  life  of  the  Indians,  we  must 
first  consider  the  advance  it  presents  in  contrast  with  China. 
In  China  there  prevailed  an  equality  among  all  the  indi- 
viduals composing  the  empire ;  consequently  all  govern- 
ment was  absorbed  in  its  centre,  the  Emperor,  so  that 
individual  members  could  not  attain  to  independence  and 
subjective  freedom.  The  next  degree  in  advance  of  this 
Unity  is  Difference,  maintaining  its  independence  against 
the  all-subduing  power  of  Unity.  An  organic  life  requires  in 
the  first  place  One  Soul,  and  in  the  second  place,  a  diver- 
gence into  differences,  which  become  organic  members,  and 
in  their  several  offices  develop  themselves  to  a  complete  sys- 
tem ;  in  SUC:L  a  way,  however,  that  their  activity  reconstitutes 


SECT.    II.      INDIA.  ]5t 

that  one  soul.     This  freedom  of  separation  is  wantiLg  in 
China.     The  deficiency  is  that  diversities  cannot  attain  to 
independent  existence.  In  this  respect,  the  essential  advance 
is  made  in  India,  viz. :  that  independent  members  ramify  from 
the  unity  of  despotic  power.     Yet  the  distinctions  which 
these  imply  are  referred  to  Nature.     Instead  of  stimulating 
the  activity  of  a  soul  as  their  centre  of  union,  and  sponta- 
neously realizing  that  soul, — as  is  the  case  in  organic  life, — 
they  petrify  and  become  rigid,   and  by  their  stereotyped 
character  condemn  the  Indian  people  to  the  most  degrading 
spiritual   serfdom.     The   distinctions   in   question   are  the 
Castes.     In  every  rational  State  there  are  distinctions  which 
must  manifest  themselves.     Individuals  must  arrive  at  sub- 
jective freedom,  and  in  doing  so,  give  an  objective  form  to 
these  diversities.     But  Indian  culture  has  not  attained  to  a 
recognition  of  freedom  and  inward  morality  ;  the  distinctions 
which  prevail  are  only  those  of  occupations,  and  civil  condi- 
tions.    In  a  free  state  also,  such  diversities  give  rise  to  par- 
ticular classes,  so  combined,  however,  that  their  members 
can  maintain  their  individuality.     In  India  we  have  only  a 
division  in  masse3, — a  division,  however,  that  influences  the 
whole  political  life  and  the  religious  consciousness.     The 
distinctions  of  chiss,  like  that  [rigid]  Unity  in  China,  remain 
consequently  on  the  same  original  grade  of  substantiality,  i.e. 
they  are  not  the  result  of  the  free  subjectivity  of  individuals. 
Examining  the  idea  of  a  State  and  its  various  functions,  we 
recognize  the  first  essential  function  as  that  whose  scope  is 
the  absolutely  Universal ;  of  which  man  becomes  conscious 
first  in  Religion,   then  in  Science.     Grod,   the  Divine  [TC- 
6e7o^]  is  the  absolutely  Universal.     The  highest  class  there- 
fore will  be  the  one  by  which  the  Divine  is  presented  and 
brought  to  bear  on  the  community — the  class  of  Brahmins. 
The  second  element  or  class,  will  represent  subjective  power 
and  valour.     Such  power  must  assert  itself,  in  order  that  the 
whole  may  stand  its  ground,  and  retain  its  integrity  against 
other  such  totalities  or  states.     This  class  is  that  of  the 
Warriors  and  Governors — the  CsJiatriyas ;   although  Brah- 
mins often  become  governors.    The  third  order  of  occupation 
recognized  is  that  which  is  concerned  with  the  socialities  of 
life — the  satisfying  of  its  necessities — and  comprehends  agri- 
culture, crafts  and  trade ;  the  class  of  the  Faivyas.     Lastly, 


152  PART    1.       THE    ORIENTAL    WOULD. 

the  fourth  element  is  the  class  of  service,  the  mere  instru- 
ment for  the  comfort  of  others,  whose  business  it  is  to  work 
for  others  for  wages  affording  a  scanty  subsistence — the 
caste  of  Sudras.  This  servile  class — properly  speaking — 
constitutes  no  special  organic  class  in  the  state,  because  its 
members  only  serve  individuals  :  their  occupations  are  there- 
fore dispersed  among  them  and  are  consequently  attached  to 
that  of  the  previously  mentioned  castes. — Against  the  exist- 
ence of  "classes"  generally,  an  objection  has  been  brought, — 
especially  in  modern  times, — drawn  from  the  consideration  of 
the  State  in  its  "  aspect "  of  abstract  equity.  But  equality  in 
civil  life  is  something  absolutely  impossible ;  for  individual 
distinctions  of  sex  and  age  will  always  assert  themselves  ; 
and  even  if  an  equal  share  in  the  government  is  accorded  to 
all  citizens,  women  and  children  are  immediately  passed  by, 
and  remain  excluded.  The  distinction  between  poverty  and 
riches,  the  influence  of  skill  and  talent,  can  be  as  little 
ignored, — utterly  refuting  those  abstract  assertions.  But 
while  this  principle  leads  us  to  put  up  with  variety  of  occu- 
pations, and  distinction  of  the  classes  to  which  they  are 
entrusted,  we  are  met  here  in  India  by  the  peculiar  circum- 
stance that  the  individual  belongs  to  such  a  class  essentially 
by  birth,  and  is  bound  to  it  for  life.  All  the  concrete  vita- 
lity that  makes  its  appearance  sinks  back  into  death.  A 
chain  binds  down  the  life  that  was  just  upon  the  point  of 
breaking  forth.  The  promise  of  freedom  which  these  dis- 
tinctions hold  out  is  therewith  completely  nullified.  What 
birth  has  separated  mere  arbitrary  choice  has  no  right  to  join 
together  again :  therefore,  the  castes  preserving  distinctness 
from  their  very  origin,  are  presumed  not  to  be  mixed  or 
united  by  marriage.  Yet  even  Arrian  (Ind.  11)  reckoned 
seven  castes,  and  in  later  times  more  than  thirty  have  been 
made  out ;  which,  notwithstanding  all  obstacles,  have  arisen 
from  the  union  of  the  various  classes.  Polygamy  necessarily 
tends  to  this.  A  Brahmin,  e.g.  is  allowed  three  wives  from 
the  three  other  castes,  provided  he  has  first  taken  one  from 
his  own.  The  offspring  of  such  mixtures  originally  belonged 
to  no  caste,  but  one  of  the  kings  invented  a  method  of  clas- 
sifying these  caste-less  persons,  which  involved  also  the  com- 
mencement of  arts  and  manufactures.  The  children  in 
question  were  assigned  to  particular  employments ;  one 


SECT.    71.       fNDtA.  15-3 

section  became  weavers,  another  wrought  in  iron,  ami  thus 
different  classes  arose  from  these  different  occupations.  The 
highest  of  these  mixed  castes  consists  of  those  who  are  born 
from  the  marriage  of  a  Brahmin  with  a  wife  of  the  Warrior 
caste  ;  the  lowest  is  that  of  the  Ckanddlas,  who  have  to 
remove  corpses,  to  execute  criminals,  and  to  perform  impure 
offices  generally.  The  members  of  this  caste  are  excommu- 
nicated and  detested ;  and  are  obliged  to  live  separate  and 
far  from  association  with  others.  The  Chandalas  are  obliged 
to  move  out  of  the  way  for  their  superiors,  and  a  Brahmin 
may  knock  down  any  that  neglect  to  do  so.  If  a  Chandala 
drinks  out  of  a  pond  it  is  denied,  and  requires  to  be  conse- 
crated afresh. 

We  must  next  consider  the  relative  position  of  these  castes. 
Their  origin  is  referred  to  a  myth,  which  tells  us  that  the 
Brahmin  caste  proceeded  from  Brahma's  mouth;  the  Warrior 
caste  from  his  arms ;  the  industrial  classes  from  his  loins ;  the 
servile  caste  from  his  foot.  Many  historians  have  set  up 
the  hypothesis  that  the  Brahmins  originally  formed  a  sepa- 
rate sacerdotal  nation,  and  this  fable  is  especially  counte- 
nanced by  the  Brahmins  themselves.  A  people  consisting 
of  priests  alone  is,  assuredly,  the  greatest  absurdity,  for  we 
know  a  priori,  that  a  distinction  of  classes  can  exist  only 
within  a  people ;  in  every  nation  the  various  occupations  ot' 
life  must  present  themselves,  for  they  belong  to  the  objec- 
tivity of  Spirit.  One  class  necessarily  supposes  another,  and 
the  rise  of  castes  generally,  is  only  a  result  of  the  united 
life  of  a  nation.  A  nation  of  priests  cannot  exist  without 
agriculturists  and  soldiers.  Classes  cannot  be  brought  toge- 
ther from  without ;  they  are  developed  only  from  within. 
They  come  forth  from  the  interior  of  national  life,  and  not 
conversely.  But  that  these  distinctions  are  here  attributed 
to  Nature,  is  a  necessary  result  of  the  Idea  which  the  East 
embodies.  Eor  while  the  individual  ought  properly  to  be 
empowered  to  choose  his  occupation,  in  the  East,  on  the  con- 
trary, internal  subjectivity  is  not  yet  recognized  as  indepen- 
dent; and  if  distinctions  obtrude  themselves,  their  recognition 
is  accompanied  by  the  belief  that  the  individual  does  not  choose 
his  particular  position  for  himself,  but  receives  it  from  Nature. 
In  China  the  people  are  dependent — withe « it  distinction  cf 


1£4  PATIT    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

classes — on  the  laws  and  moral  decision  of  the  Emperor ; 
consequently  on  a  human  will.  Plato,  in  his  Republic,  assigns 
the  arrangement  in  different  classes  with  a  view  to  various 
occupations,  to  the  choice  of  the  governing  body.  Here, 
therefore,  a  moral,  a  spiritual  power  is  the  arbiter.  In  India, 
Nature  is  this  governing  power.  But  this  natural  destiny 
need  not  have  led  to  that  degree  of  degradation  which  we 
observe  here,  if  the  distinctions  had  been  limited  to  occupa- 
tion with  what  is  earthly— to  forms  of  objective  Spirit.  In 
the  feudalism  of  mediaeval  times,  individuals  were  also  con- 
fined to  a  certain  station  in  life ;  but  for  all  there  was  a 
Higher  Being,  superior  to  the  most  exalted  earthly  dignity, 
and  admission  to  holy  orders  was  open  to  all.  This  is  the 
grand  distinction,  that  here  Religion  holds  the  same  position 
towards  all ;  that,  although  the  son  of  a  mechanic  becomes 
a  mechanic,  the  son  of  a  peasant  a  peasant,  and  free  choice 
is  often  limited  by  many  restrictive  circumstances,  the  reli- 
gious element  stands  in  the  same  relation  to  all,  and  all  are 
invested  with  an  absolute  value  by  religion.  In  India  the 
direct  contrary  is  the  case.  Another  distinction  between  the 
classes  of  society  as  they  exist  in  the  Christian  world  and 
those  in  Hindostan  is  the  moral  dignity  which  exists  among 
us  in  every  class,  constituting  that  which  man  must  possess 
in  and  through  himself.  In  this  respect  the  higher  classes 
are  equal  to  the  lower ;  and  while  religion  is  the  higher  sphere 
in  which  all  sun  themselves,  equality  before  the  law  — rights 
of  person  and  of  property — are  gained  for  every  class.  But 
by  the  fact  that  in  India,  as  already  observed,  differences 
extend  not  only  to  the  objectivity  of  Spirit,  but  also  to  its 
absolute  subjectivity,  and  thus  exhaust  all  its  relations — 
neither  morality,  nor  justice,  nor  religiosity  is  to  be  found. 

Every  caste  has  its  especial  duties  and  rights.  Duties 
and  rights,  therefore,  are  not  recogaized  as  pertaining  to 
mankind  generally,  but  as  those  of  a  particular  caste. 
While  we  say,  "  Bratery  is  a  virtue,"  the  Hindoos  say,  on 
the  contrary,  "  Bravery  is  the  virtue  of  the  Cshatryas" 
Humanity  generally,  human  duty  and  human  feeling  do 
not  manifest  themselves  ;  we  find  only  duties  assigned  to 
the  several  castes.  Everything  is  petrified  into  these  dis- 
tinctions, and  over  this  petrifaction  a  capricious  destiny  holds 


SECT,   TI.      INDIA.  155 

sway.  Morality  and  human  dignity  are  unknown  j  en) 
passions  have  their  full  swing ;  the  Spirit  wanders  into  the 
Dream-World,  and  the  highest  state  is  Annihilation. 

To  gain  a  more  accurate  idea  of  what  the  Brahmins  are, 
and  in  what  the  Brahminical  dignity  consists,  we  must  in 
yestigate  the  Hindoo  religion  and  the  conceptions  it  in. 
volves,  to  which  we  shall  have  to  return  further  on  ;  for  the 
respective  rights  of  castes  have  their  basis  in  a  religious  re- 
lation. Brahma  (neuter)  is  the  Supreme  in  Religion,  but 
there  are  besides  chief  divinities  Brahmd  ( masc.)  Vishnu  or 
Krishna — incarnate  in  infinitely  diverse  forms — and  Siva. 
These  form  a  connected  Trinity.  Brahma  is  the  highest ; 
but  Vishnu  or  Krishna,  Siva,  the  Sun  moreover,  the  Air,  &c. 
are  also  Brahm,  i.e.  Substantial  Unity.  To  Brahm  itself 
no  sacrifices  are  offered  ;  it  is  not  honoured  ;  but  prayers  are 
presented  to  all  other  idols.  Brahm  itself  is  the  Substantial 
Unity  of  All.  The  highest  religious  position  of  man,  inhere- 
fore  is,  being  exalted  to  Brahm.  If  a  Brahmin  is  asked 
what  Brahm  is,  he  answers ;  When  I  fall  back  within  my- 
self, and  close  all  external  senses,  and  say  6m  to  myself,  that 
is  Brahm.  Abstract  unity  with  God  is  realized  in  this 
abstraction  from  humanity.  An  abstraction  of  this  kind 
may  in  some  cases  leave  everything  else  unchanged,  as  does 
devotional  feeling,  momentarily  excited.  But  among  the 
Hindoos  it  holds  a  negative  position  towards  all  that  is  con- 
crete ;  and  the  highest  state  is  supposed  to  be  this  exaltation, 
by  which  the  Hindoo  raises  himself  to  deity.  The  Brahmins, 
in  virtue  of  their  birth,  are  already  in  possession  of  the 
Divine.  The  distinction  of  castes  involves,  therefore,  a  dis- 
tinction between  present  deities  and  mere  limited  mortals. 
The  other  castes  may  likewise  become  partakers  in  a  Regene- 
ration; but  they  must  subject  themselves  to  immense 
self-denial,  torture  and  penance.  Contempt  of  life,  and  of 
living  humanity,  is  the  chief  feature  in  this  aoeesis.  A  large 
number  of  the  non-Brahminical  population  strive  to  attain 
Regeneration.  They  are  called  Yogis.  An  Englishman  who, 
on  a  journey  to  Thibet  to  visit  the  Dalai-Lama,  met  such  a 
Yogi,  gives  the  following  account :  The  Yogi  was  already  on 
the  second  grade  in  his  ascent  to  Brahminiccl  dignity.  He 
had  passed  the  first  grade  by  remaining  for  twelve  years  OP 
his  legs,  without  ever  sitting  or  Iving  down.  At  first  h«  had 


156  PART  i.     THE  ORIENTA!   -WORLD. 

bound  himself  fast  to  a  tree  with  a  rope,  until  he  had  accus- 
tomed himself  to  sleep  standing.  The  second  grade  required 
him  to  keep  his  hands  clasped  together  over  his  head  for 
twelve  years  in  succession.  Already  his  nails  had  almost 
grown  into  his  hands.  The  third  grade  is  not  always  passed 
through  in  the  same  way  ;  generally  the  Yogi  has  to  spend  a 
day  betweenjivejires,  that  is,  between  four  tires  occupying  the 
four  quarters  of  heaven,  and  the  Sun.  He  must  then  swing 
backwards  and  forwards  over  the  fire,  a  ceremony  occupying 
three  hours  and  three  quarters.  Englishmen  present  at  an  act 
of  this  kind,  say  that  in  half  an  hour  the  blood  streamed  forth 
from  every  part,  of  the  devotee's  body ;  he  was  taken  down 
and  presently  died.  If  this  trial  is  also  surmounted,  the 
aspirant  is  finally  buried  alive,  that  is  put  into  the  ground 
in  an  upright  position  and  quite  covered  over  with  soil ;  after 
three  hours  and  three  quarters  he  is  drawn  out,  and  if  he 
live?,  he  is  supposed  to  have  at  last  attained  the  spiritual 
power  of  a  Brahmin. 

Thus  only  by  such  negation  of  his  existence  does  any  one 
attain  Brahminical  power.  In  its  highest  degree  this  nega- 
tion consists  in  a  sort  of  hazy  consciousness  of  having 
attained  perfect  mental  immobility — the  annihilation  of  all 
emotion  and  all  volition  ; — a  condition  which  is  regarded  as 
the  highest  amongst  the  Buddhists  also.  However  pusillan- 
imous and  effeminate  the  Hindoos  may  be  in  other  respects, 
it  is  evident  how  little  they  hesitate  to  sacrifice  themselves 
to  the  Highest, — to  Annihilation.  Another  instance  of  the 
same  is  the  fact  of  wives  burning  themselves  after  the  death 
of  their  husbands.  Should  a  woman  contravene  this  tradi- 
tional usage,  she  would  be  severed  from  society,  and  perish 
in  solitude.  An  Englishman  states  that  he  also  saw  a  woman 
burn  herself  because  she  had  lost  her  child  He  did  all  that 
he  could  to  divert  her  away  from  her  purpose ;  at  last 
lie  applied  to  her  husband  who  was  standing  by,  but  he 
shewed  himself  perfectly  indifferent,  as  he  had  more  wives  at 
home.  Sometimes  twenty  women  are  seen  throwing  them- 
selves at  once  into  the  Ganges,  and  on  the  Himmalaya 
range  an  English  traveller  found  three  women  seeking  the 
source  of  the  Ganges,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  their  life  in 
this  holy  river.  At  a  religious  festival  in  the  celebrated 
temple  of  Juggernaut  in  Orissa,  on  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  where 


SECT.    II.      INDIA.  157 

millions  of  Hindoos  assemble,  the  image  of  the  god  Vishnu 
is  drawn  in  procession  on  a  car :  about  five  hundred  men  set 
it  in  motion,  and  many  fling  themselves  down  before  its 
wheels  to  be  crushed  to  pieces.  The  whole  sea-shore  is  al- 
ready strewed  with  the  bodies  of  persons  who  have  thus 
immolated  themselves.  Infanticide  is  also  very  common  in 
India.  Mothers  throw  their  children  into  the  Ganges,  or  let 
them  pine  away  under  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The  morality 
which  is  involved  in  respect  for  human  life,  is  not  found 
among  the  Hindoos.  There  are  besides  those  already  men- 
tioned, infinite  modifications  of  the  same  principle  of  conduct, 
ail  pointing  to  annihilation.  This,  e.  g.t  is  the  leading 
principle  of  the  Gymnosophists,  as  the  Greeks  called  them. 
Naked  Fakirs  wander  about  without  any  occupation,  like 
the  mendicant  friars  of  the  Catholic  church  ;  live  on  the  alms 
of  others,  and  make  it  their  aim  to  reach  the  highest  degree 
of  abstraction — the  perfect  deadening  of  consciousness  ;  a 
point  from  which  the  transition  to  physical  death  is  no  great 
step. 

This  elevation  which  others  can  only  attain  by  toilsome 
labour  is,  as  already  stated,  the  birthright  of  the  Brahmins. 
The  Hindoo  of  another  caste,  must,  therefore,  reverence  the 
Brahmin  as  a  divinity  ;  fall  down  before  him,  and  say  to  him  : 
"  Thou  art  God."  And  this  elevation  cannot  have  anything 
to  do  with  moral  conduct,  bufr — inasmuch  as  all  internal  mo- 
rality is  absent — is  rather  dependent  on  a  farrago  of  obser- 
vances relating  to  the  merest  externalities  and  trivialities  of 
existence.  Human  life,  it  is  said,  ought  to  be  a  perpetual 
Worship  of  God.  It  is  evident  how  hollow  such  general 
aphorisms  are,  when  we  consider  the  concrete  forms  which 
they  may  assume.  They  require  another,  a  farther  qualifica- 
tion, if  they  are  to  have  a  meaning.  The  Brahmins  are-  a 
present  deity,  but  their  spirituality  has  not  yet  been  reflected 
inwards  in  contrast  with  Nature  ;  and  thus  that  which  is 
purely  indifferent  is  treated  as  of  absolute  importance.  The 
employment  of  the  Brahmins  consists  principally  in  the 
reading  of  the  Vedas :  they  only  have  a  right  to  read  them. 
Were  a  Sudra  to  read  the  Vedas,  or  to  hear  them  read,  he 
would  be  severely  punished,  and  burning  oil  must  be  poured 
into  his  ears.  The  external  observances  binding  on  the 
Brahmins  are  prodigiously  numerous,  and  the  Laws  of  Matfu 


K8  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WOULD. 

treat  of  them  as  the  most  essential  part  of  duty.  The 
Brahmin  must  rest  on  one  particular  foot  in  rising,  then 
wash  in  a  river ;  his  hair  and  nails  must  be  cut  in  neat 
curves,  his  whole  body  purified,  his  garments  white;  in  his 
hand  must  be  a  staff  of  a  specified  kind  ;  in  his  ears  a  golden 
ear-ring.  If  the  Brahmin  meets  a  man  of  an  inferior  caste, 
he  must  turn  back  and  purify  himself.  He  has  also  to  read 
in  the  Vedas,  in  various  ways :  each  word  separately,  or 
doubling  them  alternately,  or  backwards.  He  may  not  look 
to' the  sun  when  rising  or  setting,  or  when  overcast  by  clouds 
or  reflected  in  the  water.  He  is  forbidden  to  step  over  a 
rope  to  which  a  calf  is  fastened,  or  to  go  out  when  it  rains. 
He  may  not  look  at  his  wife  when  she  eats,  sneezes,  gapes, 
or  is  quietly  seated.  At  the  midday  meal  be  may  only  have 
one  garment  on,  in  bathing  never  be  quite  naked.  How 
minute  these  directions  are,  may  be  especially  judged  of  from 
the  observances  binding  on  the  Brahmins  in  regard  to  satis- 
fying the  calls  of  nature.  This  is  forbidden  to  them  in  a 
great  thoroughfare,  on  ashes,  on  ploughed  land,  on  a  hill,  a 
nest  of  white  ants,  on  wood  destined  for  fuel,  in  a  ditch, 
walking  or  standing,  on  the  bank  of  a  river,  &c.  At  such  n 
time  they  may  not  look  at  the  sun,  at  water  or  at  animals 
By  day  they  should  keep  their  face  generally  directed  to  thu 
north,  but  by  night  to  the  south  ;  only  in  the  shade  are  they 
allowed  to  turn  to  which  quarter  they  like.  It  is  forbidden 
to  every  one  who  desires  a  long  life,  to  step  on  potsherds, 
cotton  seeds,  ashes,  or  sheaves  of  corn,  or  his  urine.  In  the 
episode  Nala,  in  the  poem  of  Mahabharata,  we  have  a  story 
of  a  virgin  who  in  her  21st  year, — the  age  in  which  the 
maidens  themselves  have  a  right  to  choose  a  husband, — 
makes  a  selection  from  among  her  wooers.  There  are  five  of 
them ;  but  the  maiden  remarks  that  four  of  them  do  not 
stand  firmly  on  their  feet,  and  thence  infers  correctly  that 
they  are  Grods.  She  therefore  choses  the  fifth,  who  is  a  verit- 
able man.  But  besides  the  four  despised  divinities  there 
are  two  malevolent  ones,  whom  her  choice  had  not  favoured, 
and  who  on  that  account  wish  for  revenge.  They  therefore 
keep  a  strict  watch  on  the  husband  of  their  beloved  in  every 
step  and  act  of  life,  with  the  design  of  inflicting  injury  upon 
him  if  he  commits  a  misdemeanour.  The  persecuted  husband 
does  nothing  that  can  be  brought  against  him,  uuti]  at  lant 


SECT.    II.      INDIA..  150 

no  is  so  incautious  as  to  step  on  his  urine.  The  Genius  has 
now  an  advantage  over  him ;  he  afflicts  him  with  a  passion 
tor  gambling,  and  so  plunges  him  into  the  abyss. 

While,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Brahmins  are  subject  to 
these  strict  limitations  and  rules,  on  the  other  hand  their 
life  is  sacred;  it  cannot  answer  for  crimes  of  any  kind  ;  and 
their  property  is  equally  secure  from  being  attacked.  The 
severest  penalty  which  the  ruler  can  inflict  upon  them 
amounts  to  nothing  more  than  banishment.  The  English 
wished  to  introduce  trial  by  jury  into  India, — the  jury  to 
consist  half  of  Europeans,  half  of  Hindoos, — and  submitted 
to  the  natives,  whose  wishes  on  the  subject  were  consulted, 
the  powers  with  which  the  panel  would  be  entrusted.  The 
Hindoos  were  for  making  a  number  of  exceptions  and  limi- 
tations. They  said,  among  other  things,  that  they  could  not 
consent  that  a  Brahmin  should  be  condemned  to  death  ;  not 
to  mention  other  objections,  e.g.  that  looking  ataiid  examin- 
ing a  corpse  was  out  of  the  question.  Although  in  the 
case  of  a  "Warrior  the  rate  of  interest  may  be  as  high  as  three 
per  cent,  in  that  of  a  Vaisya  four  per  cent,  a  Brahmin  is 
never  required  to  pay  more  than  two  per  cent.  The  Brahmin 
possesses  such  a  power,  that  Heaven's  lightning  would 
strike  the  King  who  ventured  to  lay  hands  on  him  or  his 
property.  For  the  meanest  Brahmin  is  so  far  exalted  above 
the  King,  that  he  would  be  polluted  by  conversing  writh  him, 
and  would  be  dishonoured  by  his  daughters  choosing  a  prince 
in  marriage.  In  Manu's  Code  it  is  said;  "  If  any  one  pre- 
sumes to  teach  a  Brahmin  his  duty,  the  King  must  order 
that  hot  oil  be  poured  into  the  ears  and  mouth  of  such  an 
instructor.  If  one  who  is  only  once-born,  loads  one 
who  is  twice-born  with  reproaches,  a  red  hot  iron  bar  ten 
inches  long  shall  be  thrust  into  his  mouth."  On  the  other 
hand  a  Sudra  is  condemned  to  have  a  red  hot  iron  thrust 
into  him  from  behind  if  he  rest  himself  in  the  chair  of  a 
Brahmin,  and  to  have  his  foot  or  his  hand  hewed  off  if  he 
pushes  against  a  Brahmin  with  hands  or  feet.  It  is  even 
permitted  to  give  false  testimony,  and  to  lie  before  a  Court  of 
Justice,  if  a  Brahmin  can  be  thereby  freed  from  condem- 
nation. 

As  the  Brahmins  enjoy  advantages  over  the  other  Castes, 
the  latter  in  their  turn  have  privileges  according  to  prece- 
dence, over  their  inferiors.  If  a  Sudra  is  denied  by  contact 


100  PABT    I.      THE    ORIENTAL 

with  a  Pariah,  he  has  the  right  to  knock  him  down  on  the 
spot.  Humanity  on  the  part  of  a  higher  Caste  towards  an 
inferior  one  is  entirely  forbidden,  and  a  Brahmin  would  never 
think  of  assisting  a  member  of  another  Caste,  even  when  in 
danger.  The  other  Castes  deem  it  a  great  honour  when  a 
Brahmin  takes  their  daughters  as  his  wives, — a  thing  how- 
ever, which  is  permitted  him,  as  already  stated,  only  when 
he  has  already  taken  one  from  his  own  Caste.  Thence  arises 
the  freedom  the  Brahmins  enjoy  in  getting  wives.  At  the 
great  religious  festivals  they  go  among  the  people  and  choose 
those  that  please  them  best ;  but  they  also  repudiate  them 
at  pleasure. 

If  a  Brahmin  or  a  member  of  any  other  Caste  transgresses 
the  above  cited  laws  and  precepts,  he  is  himself  excluded 
from  his  caste,  and  in  order  to  be  received  back  again,  he 
must  have  a  hook  bored  through  the  hips,  and  be  swung  re- 
peatedly backwards  and  forwards  in  the  air.  There  are  alsc 
other  forms  of  restoration.  A  Eajah  who  thought  himself 
injured  by  an  English  Governor,  sent  two  Brahmins  to  Eng- 
land to  detail  his  grievances.  But  the  Hindoos  are  forbidden 
to  cross  the  sea,  and  these  envoys  on  their  return  were 
declared  excommunicated  from  their  caste,  and  in  order  to 
be  restored  to  it,  they  had  to  be  born  again  from  a  golden 
cow.  The  imposition  was  so  far  lightened,  that  only  those 
parts  of  the  cow  out  of  which  they  had  to  creep  were  obliged 
to  be  golden  ;  the  rest  might  consist  of  wood.  These  va- 
rious usages  and  religious  observances  to  which  every  Caste 
is  subject,  have  occasioned  great  perplexity  to  the  English, 
especially  in  enlisting  soldiers.  At  first  these  were  taken 
from  the  Sudra-Caste,  which  is  not  bound  to  observe  so 
many  ceremonies ;  but  nothing  could  be  done  with  them, 
they  therefore  betook  themselves  to  the  Cshatriya  class. 
These  however  have  an  immense  number  of  regulations  to 
observe, — they  may  not  eat  meat,  touch  a  dead  b'ody,  drink 
out  of  a  pool  in  which  cattle  or  Europeans  have  drunk,  not 
eat  what  others  have  cooked,  &c.  Each  Hindoo  assumes  one 
definite  occupation,  and  that  only,  so  that  one  must  have  an 
infinity  of  servants  ; — a  Lieutenant  has  thirty,  a  Major  sixty. 
Thus  every  Caste  has  its  own  duties  ;  the  lower  the  Caste, 
tne  less  it  has  to  observe ;  and  as  each  individual  has  his 
position  assigned  by  birth,  beyond  this  fixed  arrangement 
everything  is  governed  by  caprice  and  force.  In  the  Code 


ECT.    II.      INDIA.  101 

of  Man'u  punishments  increase  in  proportion  to  the  inferior- 
ity of  Castes,  and  there  is  a  distinction  in  other  respects. 
[f  a  man  of  a  higher  Caste  brings  an  accusation  against  an 
inferior  without  proof,  the  lormer  is  not  punished ;  if  the 
converse  occurs,  the  punishment  is  very  severe.  Cases  of 
theft  are  exceptional;  in  this  case  the  higher  the  Caste  the 
heavier  is  the  penalty. 

In  respect  to  property  the  Brahmins  have  a  great  advan- 
tage, for  they  pay  no  taxes.  The  prince  receives  half  the 
income  from  the  lands  of  others  ;  the  remainder  has  to 
suffice  for  the  cost  of  cultivation  and  the  support  of  the 
labourers.  It  is  an  extremely  important  question,  whether 
the  cultivated  land  in  India  is  recognized  as  belonging  to  the 
cultivator,  or  belongs  to  a  so-called  manorial  proprietor. 
The  English  themselves  have  had  great  difficulty  in  estab- 
lishing a  clear  understanding  about  it.  For  when  they 
conquered  Bengal,  it  was  of  great  importance  to  them,  to 
determine  the  mode  in  which  taxes  were  to  be  raised  on 
property,  and  they  had  to  ascertain  wrhether  these  should  be 
imposed  on  the  tenant  cultivators  or  the  lord  of  the  soil. 
They  imposed  the  tribute  on  the  latter  ;  but  the  result  was 
that  the  proprietors  acted  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner: 
drove  away  the  tenant  cultivators,  and  declaring  that  such  or 
such  an  amount  of  land  was  not  under  cultivation,  gained 
an  abatement  of  tribute.  They  then  took  back  the  expelled 
cultivators  as  day-labourers,  at  a  low  rate  of  wages,  and  had 
the  land  cultivated  on  their  own  behalf.  The  whole  income 
belonging  to  every  village  is,  as  already  stated,  divided  into 
two  parts,  of  which  one  belongs  to  the  Raja,  the  otker  to 
the  cultivators ;  but  proportionate  shares  are  also  received 
by  the  Provost  of  the  place,  the  Judge,  the  "Water-Surveyor, 
the  Brahmin  who  superintends  religious  worship,  the  Astro- 
loger (who  is  also  a  Brahmin,  and  announces  the  days  of  good 
and  ill  omen),  the  Smith,  the  Carpenter,  the  Potter,  the 
Washerman,  the  Barber,  the  Physician,  the  Dancing  Girls, 
the  Musician,  the  Poet.  This  arrangement  is  fixed  and  im- 
mutable, and  subject  to  no  one's  will.  All  political  revolu- 
tions, therefore,  are  matters  of  indifference  to  the  common 
Hindoo,  for  his  lot  is  unchanged. 

The  view  given  of  the  relation  of  castes  leads  directly  to 
the  subject  of  Religion.  For  the  claims  of  caste  are,  us 

M 


1(12  PAllT    I.       THE    OltlEKTAL    WOULD. 

already  remarked,  not  merely  secular,  but  essentially  reli- 
gious, and  the  Brahmins  in  their  exalted  dignity  are  the  very 
gods  bodily  present.  In  the  laws  of  Manu  it  is  said  :  "  Let  the 
King,  even  in  extreme  necessity,  beware  of  exciting  the 
Brahmins  against  him  ;  for  they  can  destroy  him  with  their 
power, — they  who  create  Fire,  Sun,  Moon,  &c."  They  are 
servants  neither  of  God  nor  of  his  People,  but  are  God 
himself  to  the  other  Castes, — a  position  of  things  which  con- 
stitutes the  perverted  character  of  the  Hindoo  mind.  The 
dreaming  Unity  of  Spirit  and  nature,  which  involves  a  mon- 
strous bewilderment  in  regard  to  all  phenomena  and  relations, 
we  have  already  recognized  as  the  principle  of  the  Hindoo 
Spirit.  The  Hindoo  Mythology  is  therefore  only  a  wild 
extravagance  of  Fancy,  in  which  nothing  has  a  settled  form  ; 
which  takes  us  abruptly  from  the  Meanest  to  the  Highest, 
from  the  most  sublime  to  the  most  disgusting  and  trivial. 
Thus  it  is  also  difficult  to  discover  what  the  Hindoos  under- 
stand by  Brahm.  We  are  apt  to  take  our  conception  of 
Supreme  Divinity, —the  One, — the  Creator  of  Heaven  and 
Earth, — and  apply  them  to  the  Indian  Brahm.  Brahma  is 
distinct  from  Brahm — the  former  constituting  one  person- 
ality in  contrasted  relation  to  Vishnu  and  Siva.  Many 
therefore  call  the  Supreme  Existence  who  is  over  the  first 
mentioned  deity,  Pardbrakma.  The  English  have  taken  a 
good  deal  of  trouble  to  find  out  what  Brahm  properly  is. 
Wilford  has  asserted  that  Hindoo  conceptions  recognize  two 
Heavens :  the  first,  the  earthly  paradise,  the  second,  Heaven 
in  a  spiritual  sense.  To  attain  them,  two  different  modes  of 
worship  are  supposed  to  be  required.  The  one  involves  ex- 
ternal ceremonies,  Idol-Worship ;  the  other  requires  that 
the  Supreme  Being  should  be  honoured  in  spirit.  Sacrifices, 
purifications,  pilgrimages  are  not  needed  in  the  latter.  This 
authority  states  moreover  that  there  are  few  Hindoos  ready 
to  pursue  the  second  way,  because  they  cannot  understand 
in  what  the  pleasure  of  the  second  heaven  consists,  and  that  if 
one  asks  a  Hindoo  whether  he  worships  Idols,  every  one  says 
"  Yes !  "  but  to  the  question,  "  Do  you  worship  the  Supreme 
Being  ?  "  every  one  answers  "  No."  If  the  further  question 
is  put,  "  What  is  the  meaning  of  that  practice  of  yours,  that 
silent  meditation  which  some  of  your  learned  men  speak 
of"?  "  they  respond,  "  When  I  pray  to  the  honour  of  one  of 


SECT.   II.      INDIA.  163 

the  Gods,  I  sit  down, — the  foot  of  either  leg  on  the  thigh  of  the 
other, — look  towards  Heaven,and  calmly  elevate  my  thought* 
with  my  hands  folded  in  silence ;  then  I  say,  I  am  Brahra 
the  Supreme  Being.  We  are  not  conscious  to  ourselves  of 
being  Brahm,  by  reason  of  Maya  (the  delusion  occasioned  by 
the  outward  world).  It  is  forbidden  to  pray  to  him,  and 
to  offer  sacrifices  to  him  in  his  own  nature ;  for  this  would  be 
to  adore  ourselves.  In  every  case  therefore,  it  is  only  ema- 
nations of  Brahm  that  we  address."  Translating  these  ideas 
then  into  our  own  process  of  thought,  we  should  call 
Brahm  the  pure  unity  of  thought  in  itself—  God  in  the 
iucomplexity  of  his  existence.  No  temples  are  consecrated 
to  him,  and  he  receives  no  worship.  Similarly,  in  the  Catho- 
lic religion,  the  churches  are  not  dedicated  to  God,  but 
to  the  saints.  Other  Englishmen,  who  have  devoted  them- 
selves to  investigating  the  conception  of  Brahm,  have 
thought  Brahm  to  be  an  unmeaning  epithet,  applied  to  all 
gods :  so  that  Vishnu  says,  "  I  am  Brahm ;"  and  the  Sun, 
the  Air,  the  Seas  are  called  Brahm.  Brahm  would  on  this 
suppositien  be  substance  in  its  simplicity,  which  by  its  very 
nature  expands  itself  into  the  limitless  variety  of  phenome- 
nal diversities.  For  this  abstraction,  this  pure  unity,  is  that 
which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  All,  —the  root  of  all  definite 
existence.  In  the  intellection  of  this  unity,  all  objectivity 
falls  away  ;  for  the  purely  Abstract  is  intellection  itself  in  its 
greatest  vacuity.  To  attain  this  Death  of  Life  during  life 
itself — to  constitute  this  abstraction — requires  the  disap- 
pearance of  all  moral  activity  and  volition,  and  of  all 
intellection  too,  as  in  the  Religion  of  Po  ;  and  this  is  the 
object  of  the  penances  already  spoken  of. 

The  complement  to  the  abstraction  Brahm  must  then  be 
looked  for  in  the  concrete  complex  of  things ;  for  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  Hindoo  religion  is  the  Manifestation  of  Diversity 
[in  "Avatars."]  These  then,  fall  outside  that  abstract  Unity 
of  Thought,  and  as  that  which  deviates  from  it,  constitute 
the  variety  found  in  the  world  of  sense,  the  variety  of  intel- 
lectual conceptions  in  an  unreflected  sensuous  form.  In  this 
way  the  concrete  complex  of  material  things  is  isolated  from 
Spirit,  and,  presented  in  wild  distraction,  except  as  re- 
absorbed  in  the  pure  ideality  of  Brahm.  The  other  deities 
are  therefore  t:ungs  of  sense :  Mountains,  Streams,  Beasts, 

M  2 


104  PAHT    I.      THE    ORIENTAL    WOELD. 

the  Sun,  the  MOOD,  the  Granges.  The  next  stage  is  the  con- 
centration of  this  wild  variety  into  substantial  distinctions, 
and  the  comprehension  of  them  as  a  series  of  divine  persons. 
Vishnu,  Siva,  Mahadeva  are  thus  distinguished  from  Brahma. 
In  the  embodiment  Vishnu,  are  presented  those  incarnations 
in  which  God  has  appeared  as  man,  and  which  are  always 
historical  personages,  who  effected  important  changes  and 
new  epochs.  The  power  of  procreation  is  likewise  a  sub- 
stantial embodiment;  and  in  the  excavations  grottos  and 
pagodas  of  the  Hindoos,  the  Lingam  is  always  found  as  sym- 
bolizing the  male,  and  the  Lotus  the  female  vis  procreandi. 

With  this  Duality, — abstract  unity  on  the  one  side  and 
the  abstract  isolation  of  the  world  of  sense  on  the  other  side, 
— exactly  corresponds  the  double  form  of  Worship,  in  the 
relation  of  the  human  subjectivity  to  God.  The  one  side  of 
this  duality  of  worship,  consists  in  the  abstraction  of  pure 
self-elevation — the  abrogation  of  real  self-consciousness ;  a 
negativity  which  is  consequently  manifested,  on  the  one 
hand,  in  the  attainment  of  torpid  unconsciousness — on  the 
other  hand  in  suicide  and  the  extinction  of  all  that  is  worth 
calling  life,  by  self-inflicted  tortures.  The  other  side  of 
worship  consists  in  a  wild  tumult  of  excess ;  when  all 
sense  of  individuality  has  vanished  from  consciousness  by 
immersion  in  the  merely  natural  ;  with  which  individuality 
thus  makes  itself  identical,  — destroying  its  consciousness 
of  distinction  from  Nature.  In  all  the  pagodas,  therefore, 
prostitutes  and  dancing  girls  are  kept,  whom  the  Brahmin? 
instruct  most  carefully  in  dancing,  in  beautiful  postures  and 
attractive  gestures,  and  who  have  to  comply  with  the  wishes 
of  all  comers  at  a  fixed  price.  Theological  doctrine — relation 
of  religion  to  morality — is  here  altogether  out  of  the  question. 
On  the  one  hand  Love — Heaven — in  short  everything  spiritual 
— is  conceived  by  the  fancy  of  the  Hindoo  ;  but  on  the  other 
hand  his  conceptions  have  an  actual  sensuous  embodiment, 
and  he  immerses  himself  by  a  voluptuous  intoxication  in  the 
merely  natural.  Objects  of  religious  worship  are  thus  either 
disgusting  forms  produced  by  art,  or  those  presented  by 
Nature.  Every  bird,  every  monkey  is  a  present  god,  an 
absolutely  universal  existence.  The  Hindoo  is  incapable  of 
holding  fast  an  object  in  his  mind  by  means  of  rational 
predicates  assigned  to  it,  for  this  requires  reflection.  "While 


SECT.    II.       INDIA.  105 

a  umversa.  essence  is  wrongly  transmuted  into  sensuous 
objectivity,  the  latter  is  also  driven  from  its  ilefinite  charac- 
ter into  universality, — a  process  whereby  it  loses  its  footing 
and  is  expanded  to  indefiniteness. 

If  we  proceed  to  ask  how  far  their  religion  exhibits  the 
Morality  of  the  Hindoos,  the  answer  must  be  that  the  former 
is  as  distinct  from  the  latter,  as  Brahm  from  the  concrete 
existence  of  which  he  is  the  essence.  To  us,  religion  is  the 
knowledge  of  that  Being  who  is  emphatically  our  Being, 
and  therefore  the  substance  of  our  knowledge  and  volition  ; 
the  proper  office  of  which  latter  is  to  be  the  mirror  of  this 
fundamental  substance.  But  that  requires  this  [Highest] 
Being  to  be  in  se  a  personality,  pursuing  divine  aims,  such 
as  can  become  the  purport  of  human  action.  Such  an  idea 
of  a  relation  of  the  Joeing  of  Grod  as  constituting  the 
universal  basis  or  substance  of  human  action, — such  a  mo- 
rality cannot  be  found  among  the  Hindoos  ;  for  they  have 
not  the  Spiritual  as  the  import  of  their  consciousness.  On 
the  one  hand  their  virtue  consists  in  the  abstraction  from 
all  activity— the  condition  they  call  "Brahm."  Oh  the 
other  hand  every  action  with  them  is  a  prescribed  external 
usage  ;  not  free  activity,  the  result  of  inwTard  personality. 
Thus  the  moral  condition  of  the  Hindoos,  (as  already 
observed)  shews  itself  most  abandoned.  In  this  all  Eng- 
lishmen agree.  Our  judgment  of  the  morality  of  th« 
Hindoos  is  apt  to  be  warped  by  representations  of  their 
mildness,  tenderness,  beautiful  and  sentimental  fancy.  But 
we  must  reflect  that  in  nations  utterly  corrupt,  there  are 
sides  of  character  which  may  be  called  tender  and  noble. 
We  have  Chinese  poems  in  which  the  tenderest  relations  of 
love  are  depicted  ;  in  which  delineations  of  deep  emotion, 
humility,  modesty,  propriety  are  to  be  found ;  and  which 
may  be  compared  with  the  best  that  European  literature 
:ontains.  The  same  characteristics  meet  us  in  many  Hindoo 
poems ;  but  rectitude,  morality,  freedom  of  soul,  conscious- 
ness of  individual  right  are  quite  another  thing.  The  anni- 
hilating of  spiritual  and  physical  existence  has  nothing 
concrete  in  it ;  and  absorption  in  the  abstractly  Universal 
has  no  connection  with  the  real.  Deceit  and  cunning  are 
the  fundamental  characteristics  of  the  Hindoo.  Cheating 
stealing,  robbing,  murdering  are  with  him  habitual. 


1.       THE  ORIENTAL  WOELD. 

bly  crouclimg  and  abject  before  a  victor  and  lord,  l.s  i« 
recklessly  barbarous  to  the  vanquished  and  subject.  Cha- 
racteristic of  the  Hindoo's  humanity  is  the  fact  that  he  kills  no 
brute  animal,  founds  and  supports  rich  hospitals  for  brutes, 
especially  for  old  cows  and  monkeys, — but  that  through  the 
whole  land,  no  single  institution  can  be  found  for  human 
beings  who  are  diseased  or  infirm  from  age.  The  Hindoos 
will  not  tread  upon  ants,  but  they  are  perfectly  indifferent 
when  poor  wanderers  pine  away  with  hunger.  The  Brahmins 
are  especially  immoral.  According  to  English  reports,  they 
do  nothing  but  P  it  and  sleep.  In  what  is  not  forbidden  them 
by  the  rules  of  heir  order  they  follow  natural  impulses 
entirely.  Win  <  they  take  any  part  in  public  life  they 
shew  themselves  avaricious,  deceitful,  voluptuous.  With 
those  whom  they  have  reason  to  fear,  they  are  humble  enough ; 
for  which  they  avenge  themselves  on  their  dependents.  '•  I 
do  not  know  an  honest  man  among  them,"  says  an  English 
authority.  Children  have  no  respect  for  their  parents  :  sons 
maltreat  their  mothers. 

It  would  lead  us  too  far  to  give  a  detailed  notice  of  Hindoo 
Art  and  Science.  But  we  may  make  the  general  remark,  that  a 
more  accurate  acquaintance  with  its  real  value  has  not  a  little 
diminished  the  widely  bruited  fame  of  Indian  Wisdom.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Hindoo  principle  of  pure  self-renouncing 
Ideality,  and  that  [phenomenal]  variety  which  goes  to  the  op- 
posite extreme  of  sensuousness,  it  is  evident  that  nothing  but 
abstract  thought  and  imagination  can  be  developed.  Thus, 
e.g.,  their  grainmar  has  advanced  to  a  high  degree  of  consis- 
tent regularity ;  but  when  substantial  matter  in  sciences  find 
works  of  art  is  in  question,  it  is  useless  to  look  for  it  here. 
When  the  English  had  become  masters  of  the  country,  the 
work  of  restoring  to  light  the  records  of  Indian  culture  was 
commenced,  and  William  Jones  first  disinterred  the  poems 
of  the  Golden  Age.  The  English  exhibited  plays  at  Calcutta: 
this  led  to  a  representation  of  dramas  on  the  part  of  the 
Brahmins,  e.g.  the  Sacontala  of  Calidasa,  &c.  In  the 
enth us, asm  of  discovery  the  Hindoo  culture  was  very  highly 
rated  ;  and  as,  when  new  beauties  are  discovered,'  the  old 
ones  are  commonly  looked  down  upon  with  contempt, 
Hindoo  poetry  and  philosophy  were  extolled  as  far  superior 
to  the  Greek.  For  our  purpose  the  most  important 


SECT.    11.       INDIA.  1G7 

ments  are  the  ancient  and  canonical  books  of  the  Hindoos, 
especially  the  V&das.  They  comprise  many  divisions,  of 
which  the  fourth  is  of  more  recent  origin.  They  consist 
partly  of  religious  prayers,  partly  of  precepts  to  be  observed. 
Some  manuscripts  of  these  Vedas  have  come  to  Europe, 
though  in  a  complete  form  they  are  exceedingly  rare.  The 
writing  is  on  palm  leaves,  scratched  in  with  a  needle.  The 
Vedas  are  very  difficult  to  understand,  since  they  date  from 
the  most  remote  antiquity,  and  the  language  is  a  much  older 
Sanscrit.  Colebrooke  has  indeed  translated  a  part,  but  this 
itself  is  perhaps  taken  from  a  commentary,  of  which  there 
are  very  many.*  Two  great  epic  poems,  Bnmayana  and 
Mahabharata,  have  also  reached  Europe.  Three  quarto 
volumes  of  the  former  have  been  printed,  the  second  volume 
is  extremely  rare.f  Besides  these  works,  the  Puranas  must 
be  particularly  noticed.  The  Puranas  contain  the  history  of 
a  god  or  of  a  temple  They  are  entirely  fanciful.  Another 
Hindoo  classical  book  is  the  Code  of  Manu.  This  Hindoo 
lawgiver  has  been  compared  with  the  Cretan  Minos, — a  name 
which  also  occurs  among  the  Egyptians  ;  and  certainly  this 
extensive  occurrence  of  the  same  name  is  noteworthy  and  can- 
not be  ascribed  to  chance.  Manu's  code  of  morals,  (pub- 
lished at  Calcutta  with  an  English  translation  by  Sir  W 
Jones)  forms  the  basis  of  Hindoo  legislation.  It  begins  writh 
a  Theogony,  which  is  not  only  entirely  different  from  the 
mythological  conceptions  of  other  peoples,  (as  might  be  ex- 
pected) but  also  deviates  essentially  from  the  Hindoo  tradi- 
tions themselves.  For  in  these  also  there  are  only  some  lead- 
ing features  that  pervade  the  whole.  In  other  respects 
everything  is  abandoned  to  chance,  caprice  and  fancy  ;  the  re- 
sult of  which  is  that  the  most  multiform  traditions,  shapes 
and  names,  appear  in  never  ending  procession.  The  time 
when  Manu's  code  was  composed,  is  also  entirely  unknown 

*  Only  recently  has  Professor  Rosen,  residing  in  London,  gone  tho- 
roughly into  the  matter  and  given  a  specimen  of  the  text  with  a  transla- 
tion, "  Rig-Vedse  Specimen,  ed.  Fr.  Rosen.  Lond.  1830."  (Mc»  a 
recently,  since  Rosen's  death,  the  whole  Rig-Vedft,  London,  1839,  L  is 
been  published  from  MSS.  left  by  him.) 

t  "  A.  W.  v.  Schlegel  has  published  the  first  and  second  Volume  ;  the 
most  important  Episodes  of  the  Mahabharata  have  b.en  introduced  tj 
Miblic  notice  by  F.  Bnjip,  and  a  complete  Edition  has  appeared  at  C.il« 
«tta." — Germ.  Editor. 


168  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

and  undetermined.  The  traditions  reach  beyond  twenty- 
three  centuries  before  the  birth  of  Christ :  a  dynasty  of 
the  Children  of  the  Sun  is  mentioned,  on  which  followed 
one  of  the  Children  of  the  Moon.  Thus  much,  however,  is 
certain,  that  the  code  in  question  is  of  high  antiquity  ;  and 
an  acquaintance  with  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance  to 
the  English,  as  their  knowledge  of  Hindoo  Law  is  derived 
from  it. 

After  pointing  out  the  Hindoo  principle  in  the  distinctions 
of  caste,  in  religion  and  literature,  we  must  also  mention  the 
mode  and  form  of  their  political  existence, — the  polity  of  the 
Hindoo  State.— A.  State  is  a  realization  of  Spirit,  such  that 
in  it  the  self-conscious  being  of  Spirit — the  freedom  of  the 
Will — is  realized  as  Law.  Suchan  institution  then,  necessarily 

Eresupposes  the  consciousness  of  free  will.  In  the  Chinese 
tate  the  moral  will  of  the  Emperor  is  the  law  :  but  so  that 
subjective,  inward  freedom  is  thereby  repressed,  and  the  Law 
of  Freedom  governs  individuals  only  as  from  without.  In 
India  the  primary  aspect  of  subjectivity, — viz.  that  of  the  ima- 
gination,— presents  a  union  of  the  Natural  and  Spiritual,  in 
which  Nature  on  the  one  hand,  does  not  present  itself  as  aworld 
embodying  Reason,  nor  the  Spiritual  on  the  other  hand,  as 
consciousness  in  contrast  with  Nature.  Here  the  antithesis 
in  the  [above-stated]  principle  is  wanting.  Freedom  both  as 
abstract  will  and  as  subjective  freedom  is  absent.  The  pro- 
per basis  of  the  State,  the  principle  of  freedom  is  altogether 
absent :  there  cannot  therefore  be  any  State  in  the  time  sense 
of  the  term.  This  is  the  first  point  to  be  observed  :  if  China 
may  be  regarded  as  nothing  else  but  a  State,  Hindoo  political 
existence  present  us  with  a  people,  but  no  State.  Secondly, 
while  we  found  a  moral  despotism  in  China,  whatever  may 
be  called  a  relic  of  political  life  mlndia,i$  a  despotism  without  a 
principle,  without  any  rule  of  morality  and  religion:  for  moral- 
ity and  religion  (as  far  as  the  latter  has  a  reference  to  human 
action)  hive  as  their  indispensable  condition  and  basis  the 
freedom  of  the  Will.  In  India,  therefore,  the  most  arbitrary, 
wicked,  degrading  despotism  has  its  full  swing.  China,  Per- 
sia, Turkey, — in  fact  Asia  generally,  is  the  scene  of  despotism, 
and,  in  a  bad  sense,  of  tyranny  ;  but  it  is  regarded  as  contrarv 
to  the  due  order  of  things,  and  is  disapproved  by  religion  and 
the  moral  consciousness  of  individuals.  In  those  countries, 


SECT.   II.      INDIA.  169 

fcjTanny  rouses  men  to  resentment ;  they  detest  it  and  groan 
under  it  as  a  burden.  To  them  it  is  an  accident  and  an  irre- 
gularity, not  a  necessity :  it  ought  not  to  exist.  But  in  India  it 
is  normal :  for  here  there  is  no  sense  of  personal  independence 
with  which  a  state  of  despotism  could  be  compared,  and 
which  would  raise  revolt  in  the  soul ;  nothing  approaching 
even  a  resentful  protest  against  it,  is  left,  except  the  corporeal 
smart,  and  the  pain  of  being  deprived  of  absolute  necessaries 
and  of  pleasure. 

In  the  case  of  such  a  people,  therefore,  that  which  we  call 
in  its  double  sense,  History,  is  not  to  be  looked  for;  and  here 
the  distinction  between  China  and  India  is  most  clearly  and 
strongly  manifest  The  Chinese  possess  a  most  minute 
history  of  their  country,  and  it  has  been  already  remarked, 
what  arrangements  are  made  in  China,  for  having  everything 
accurately  noted  down  in  their  annals.  The  contrary  is  the 
case  in  India.  Though  the  recent  discoveries  of  the  treasures 
of  Indian  Literature,  have  shewn  us  what  a  reputation  the 
Hindoos  have  acquired  in  Geometry,  Astronomy,  and  Alge- 
bra,— that  they  have  made  great  advances  in  Philosophy,  and 
that  among  them,  Grammar  has  been  so  far  cultivated  that  no 
language  can  be  regarded  as  more  fully  developed  than  the 
Sanscrit, — we  find  the  department  of  History  altogether  neg- 
lected, or  rather  non-existent.  For  History  requires  Under- 
standing— the  power  of  looking  at  an  object  in  an  independent 
objective  light,  and  comprehending  it  in  its  rational  connec- 
tion with  other  objects.  Those  peoples  therefore  are  alone 
capable  of  History,  and  of  prose  generally,  who  have  arrived 
at  that  period  of  development,  (and  can  make  that  their  start- 
ing point,)  at  which  individuals  comprehend  their  own  exist- 
ence as  independent,  i.e.  possess  self-consciousness. 

The  Chinese  are  to  be  rated  at  what  they  have  made  of  them- 
selves, looking  at  them  in  the  entirety  of  their  State.  While 
they  have  thus  attained  an  existence  independent  of  Nature, 
they  can  also  regard  objects  as  distinct  from  themselves, — as 
they  are  actually  presented, — in  a  definite  form  and  in  their 
real  connection.  The  Hindoos  on  the  contrary  are  by  birth 
given  over  to  an  unyielding  destiny,  while  at  the  same 
time  their  Spirit  is  exalted  to  Ideality ;  so  that  their 
minds  exhibit  the  contradictory  processes  of  a  dissolution  ot 
fixed  rational  and  definite  conceptions  in  their  Ideality,  and 


1-70  PAHT  I.       THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD. 

on  the  other  side,  a  degradation  of  tin's  ideality  to  a  multi- 
formity of  sensuous  objects.  This  makes  them  incapable  of 
writing  History.  All  that  happens  is  dissipated  in  their  minds 
into  confused  dreams.  What  we  call  historical  truth  and 
veracity, —intelligent,  thoughtful  comprehension  of  events, 
and  fidelity  in  representing  them, — nothing  of  this  sort  can  be 
looked  for  among  the  Hindoos.  "We  may  explain  this  defi- 
ciency partly  from  that  excitement  and  debility  of  the  nerves, 
which  prevents  them  from  retaining  an  object  in  their  minds, 
and  firmly  comprehending  it,  for  in  their  mode  of  apprehen- 
sion, a  sensitive  and  imaginative  temperament  changes  it  into 
a  feverish  dream  ; — partly  from  the  Jact,  that  veracity  is  the 
direct  contrary  to  their  nature.  They  even  lie  knowingly  and 
designedly  where  misapprehension  is  out  of  the  question. 
As  the  Hindoo  Spirit  is  a  state  of  dreaming  and  mental  tran- 
siency— a  self-oblivious  dissolution — objects  also  dissolve  for 
it  into  unreal  images  and  indefinitude.  This  feature  is  ab- 
solutely characteristic  ;  and  this  alone  would  furnish  us  with 
a  clear  idea  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Hindoos,  from  which  all  that 
has  been  said  might  be  deduced. 

But  History  is  always  of  great  importance  for  a  people ; 
since  by  means  of  that  it  becomes  conscious  of  the  path  of 
development  taken  by  its  own  Spirit,  which  expresses  itself 
in  Laws,  Manners,  Customs,  and  Deeds.  Laws,  compris- 
ing morals  and  judicial  institutions,  are  by  nature  the  per- 
manent element  in  a  people's  existence.  But  History  pre- 
sents a  people  with  their  o\vn  image  in  a  condition  which 
thereby  becomes  objective  to  them.  Without  History  their 
existence  in  time  is  blindly  self-involved, — the  recurring  play 
of  arbitrary  volition  in  manifold  forms.  History  fixes  and 
imparts  consistency  to  this  fortuitous  current,  — gives  it  the 
form  of  Universality,  and  by  so  doing  posits  a  directive  and 
restrictive  rule  for  it.  It  is  an  essential  instrument  in  deve- 
loping and  determining  the  Constitution — that  is,  a  rational 
political  condition  ;  for  it  is  the  empirical  method  of  produc- 
ing the  Universal,  inasmuch  as  it  sets  up  a  permanent  object 
for  the  conceptive  powers. — It  is  because  the  Hindoos 
Lave  no  History  in  the  form  of  annals,  (historia)  that  they 
have  no  History  in  the  form  of  transactions,  (res  gesta3 ;) 
that  is,  no  growth  expanding  into  a  veritable  political 
condition. 


SECT.    II.       INDIA.  171 

Periods  of  time  are  mentioned  in  the  Hindoo  Writings, 
and  large  numbers  which  have  often  an  astronomical  meaning, 
but  which  have  still  oftener  a  quite  arbitrary  origin.  Thus 
it  is  related  of  certain  Kings  that  they  had  reigned  70,000 
years,  or  more.  Brahma,  the  first  figure  in  the  Cosmogony, 
and  self-produced,  is  said  to  have  lived  20,000  years,  &c. 
Innumerable  names  of  Kings  are  cited,  -among  them  the  in- 
carnations of  Vishnu.  It  would  be  ridiculous  to  regard 
passages  of  this  kind  as  anything  historical.  In  their  poema 
Kings  are  often  talked  of :  these  may  have  been  historical 
personages,  but  they  completely  vanish  in  fable ;  e.g.  they 
retire  from  the  world,  and  then  appear  again,  after  they  have 
passed  ten  thousand  years  in  solitude.  The  numbers  in 
question,  therefore,  have  not  the  value  and  rational  meaning 
which  we  attach  to  them. 

Consequently  the  oldest  and  most  reliable  sources  of  Indian 
History  are  the  notices  of  Greek  Authors,  after  Alexander 
the  Great  had  opened  the  way  to  India.  From  them  we 
learn  that  their  institutions  were  the  same  at  that  early  pe- 
riod as  they  are  now :  Santaracottus  (Chandragupta)  is 
marked  out  as  a  distinguished  ruler  in  the  northern  part  of 
India,  to  which  the  Bactriaii  kingdom  extended.  The  Ma- 
hometan historians  supply  another  source  of  information  ;  for 
the  Mahometans  began  their  invasions  as  early  as  the  10th 
century.  A  Turkish  slave  was  the  ancestor  of  the  Ghizninn 
race.  His  son  Mahmoud  made  an  inroad  into  Hindostanand 
conquered  almost  the  whole  country.  He  fixed  his  royal 
residence  west  of  Cubul,  and  at  his  court  lived  the  poet  Fer- 
dusi.  The  Ghiznian  dynasty  was  soon  entirely  exterminated 
by  the  sweeping  attacks  of  the  Afghans  and  Moguls.  In 
later  times  nearly  the  whole  of  India  has  been  subjected  to 
the  Europeans.  What  therefore  is  known  of  Indian  his- 
tory, has  for  the  most  part  been  communicated  through 
foreign  channels  :  the  native  literature  gives  only  indistinct 
data.  Europeans  assure  us  of  the  impossibility  of  wading 
through  the  morasses  of  Indian  statements.  More  definite 
information  may  be  obtained  from  inscriptions  and  docu- 
ments, especially  from  the  deeds  of  gifts  of  land  to  pagodas 
and  divinities ;  but  this  kind  of  evidence  supplies  names 
only.  Another  source  of  information  is  the  astronomical 
'.  &rature,  which  is  of  high  antiquity.  Colebrooke  thoroughly 


172  PAET  I.       THE  OR1F.JTTAL  WORLD. 

studied  these  writings ;  though  it  is  very  difficult  to  procure 
manuscripts,  since  the  Brahmins  keep  them  very  close ; 
they  are  moreover  disfigured  by  the  grossest  interpolations, 
jt  is  found  that  the  statements  with  regard  to  constellations 
are  often  contradictory,  and  that  the  Brahmins  interpolate 
these  ancient  works  with  events  belonging  to  their  own  time. 
The  Hindoos  do  indeed  possess  lists  and  enumerations  of 
their  Kings,  but  these  also  are  of  the  most  capricious  charac- 
ter ;  for  we  often  find  twenty  Kings  more  in  one  list  than 
in  another ;  and  should  these  lists  even  be  correct,  they  could 
not  constitute  a  history.  The  Brahmins  have  no  conscience 
in  respect  to  truth.  Captain  "Wilford  had  procured  manu- 
scripts from  all  quarters  with  great  trouble  and  expense ;  lie 
assembled  a  considerable  number  of  Brahmins,  and  commis- 
sioned them  to  make  extracts  from  these  works,  and  to  in- 
stitute enquiries  respecting  certain  remarkable  events — about 
Adam  and  Eve,  the  Deluge,  &c.  The  Brahmins,  to  please 
their  employer,  produced  statements  of  the  kind  required  , 
but  there  was  nothing  of  the  sort  in  the  manuscripts.  Wil- 
ford wrote  many  treatises  on  the  subject,  till  at  last  he  detec- 
ted the  deception,  and  saw  that  he  had  laboured  in  vain. 
'The  Hindoos  have,  it  is  true,  a  fixed  Era:  they  reckon  from 
Ficramdditya,  at  whose  splendid  court  lived  Calidasa,  the 
author  of  the  Sacontala.  The  most  illustrious  poets  flour- 
ished about  the  same  time.  "  There  were  nine  pearls  at  the 
court  of  Vicramaditya,"  say  the  Brahmins :  but  we  cannot 
discover  the  date  of  this  brilliant  epoch.  From  various 
statements,  the  year  1491  B.C.  has  been  contended  for  ; 
others  adopt  the  year  50  B.C.,  and  this  is  the  commonly  re- 
ceived opinion.  Bentley's  researches  at  length  placed  Vicra- 
maditya in  the  twelfth  century  B.C.  But  still  more  recently 
it  has  been  discovered  that  there  were  five,  or  even  eight  or 
nine  kings  of  that  name  in  India ;  so  that  on  this  point  also 
we  are  thrown  back  into  utter  uncertainty. 

When  the  Europeans  became  acquainted  with  India,  they 
found  a  multitude  of  petty  Kingdoms,  at  whose  head  were 
Mahometan  and  Indian  princes.  There  was  an  order  of 
things  very  nearly  approaching  feudal  organization  ;  and  the 
Kingdoms  in  question  were  divided  into  districts,  having  as 
governors  Mahometans,  or  people  of  the  Warrior  Caste  of 
Hindoos.  The  business  of  these  governors  consisted  in  col- 


SECT.    II.      INDIA.  173 

tecting  taxes  and  carrying  on  wars ;  and  they  thus  formed  a 
kind  of  aristocracy,  the  Prince's  Council  of  State.  But  only 
as  far  as  their  princes  are  feared  and  excite  fear,  have  they 
any  power  ;  and  no  obedience  is  rendered  to  them  but  by 
force.  As  long  as  the  prince  does  not  want  money,  he  has 
troops;  and  neighbouring  princes,  if  they  are  inferior  to  him 
in  force,  are  often  obliged  to  pay  taxes,  but  which  are  j  ielded 
only  on  compulsion.  The  whole  state  of  things,  therefore,  i« 
Lot  that  of  repose,  but  of  continual  struggle ;  while  moreover 
nothing  is  developed  or  furthered.  It  is  the  struggle  of  an 
energetic  will  on  the  part  of  this  or  that  prince  against  a 
feebler  one ;  the  history  of  reigning  dynasties,  but  not  of 
peoples  ;  a  series  of  perpetually  varying  intrigues  and  revolts 
— not  indeed  of  subjects  against  their  rulers,  but  of  a  prince's 
son,  for  instance,  against  his  father ;  of  brothers,  uncles 
and  nephews  in  contest  with  each  other  ;  and  of  functionaries 
against  their  master.  It  might  be  believed  that,  though  the 
Europeans  found  such  a  state  of  things,  this  was  the  result 
of  the  dissolution  of  earlier  superior  organizations.  It 
might,  for  instance,  be  supposed  that  the  period  of  the  Mogul 
supremacy  was  of  one  of  prosperity  and  splendour,  and  of  a 
political  condition  in  which  India  was  not  distracted  religi- 
ously and  politically  by  foreign  conquerors.  But  the  his- 
torical traces  and  lineaments  that  accidentally  present 
themselves  in  poetical  descriptions  and  legends,  bearing 
upon  the  period  in  question,  always  point  to  the  same  divided 
condition  — the  result  of  war  and  of  the  instability  of  politi- 
cal relations ;  while  contrary  representations  may  be  easily 
recognized  as  a  dream,  a  mere  fancy.  This  state  of  things 
is  the  natural  result  of  that  conception  of  Hindoo  life  which 
has  been  exhibited,  and  the  conditions  which  it  necessitates. 
The  wars  of  the  sects  of  the  Brahmins  and  Buddhists,  of  the 
devotees  of  Vishnu  and  of  Siva,  also  contributed  their  quota 
to  this  confusion. — There  is  indeed,  a  common  character 
pervading  the  whole  of  India  ;  but  its  several  states  present 
at  the  same  time  the  greatest  variety  ;  so  that  in  one  Indian 
State  we  meet  with  the  greatest  effeminacy, — in  another,  ou 
the  contrary,  we  find  prodigious  vigour  and  savage  barbarity . 
If  then,  in  conclusion,  we  once  more  take  a  general  vie\v 
of  the  comparative  condition  of  India  and  China,  we  shall 
see  that  Cnina  was  characterized  by  a  thoroughly  unimagina- 


174  PART    I        THE    ORIENTAL   WOULD. 

tive  Understanding ;  a  prosaic  life  amid  firm  and  definite 
reality:  while  in  the  Indian  world  there  is,  so  to  speak,  no 
object  that  can  be  regarded  as  real,  and  firmly  defined, — none 
that  was  not  at  its  first  apprehension  perverted  bythe  imagina- 
tion to  the  very  opposite  of  what  it  presents  to  an  intelligent 
consciousness.  In  China  it  is  the  Moral  which  constitutes 
the  substance  of  the  laws,  and  which  is  embodied  in  external 
strictly  determinate  relations ;  while  over  all  hovers  the 
patriarchal  providence  of  the  Emperor,  who  like  a  Father, 
caEes  impartially  for  the  interest  of  his  subjects.  Among 
the  Hindoos,  on  the  contrary — instead  of  this  Unity — Di- 
versity is  the  fundamental  characteristic.  Religion,  War, 
Handicraft,  Trade,  yes,  even  the  most  trivial  occupations  are 
parcelled  out  with  rigid  separation,  —constituting  as  they  do 
the  import  of  the  one  will  which  they  involve,  and  whose 
various  requirements  they  exhaust.  With  this  is  bound  up 
a  monstrous,  irrational  imagination,  which  attaches  the 
moral  value  and  character  of  men  to  an  infinity  of  outward 
actions  as  empty  in  point  of  intellect  as  of  feeling  ;  sets  aside 
all  respect  for  the  welfare  of  man,  and  even  makes  a  duty 
of  the  cruellest  and  severest  contravention  of  it.  Those  distinc- 
tions being  rigidly  maintained,  nothing  remains  for  the  one 
universal  will  of  the  State  but  pure  caprice,  against  whose 
omnipotence  only  the  fixed  caste-distinctions  avail  for  pro- 
tection. The  Chinese  in  their  prosaic  rationality,  reverence 
as  the  Highest,  only  the  abstract  supreme  lord  ;  and  they 
exhibit  a  contemptibly  superstitious  respect  for  the  fixed 
and  definite.  Among  the  Hindoos  there  is  no  such  super- 
stition so  far  as  it  presents  an  antithesis  to  Understanding  ; 
ruther  their  whole  life  and  ideas  are  one  unbroken  super- 
stition, because  among;  them  all  is  reverie  and  consequent 
enslavement.  Annihilation — the  abandonment  of  all  reason, 
morality  and  subjectivity — can  only  come  to  a  positive  feeling 
and  consciousness  of  itself,  by  extravagating  in  a  boundlessly 
wild  imagination ;  in  which,  like  a  desolate  spirit,  it  finds  no 
rest,  no  settled  composure,  though  it  can  content  itself  in  no 
other  way  ;  as  a  man  who  is  quite  reduced  in  body  and  spirit 
finds  his  existence  altogether  stupid  and  intolerable,  and  is 
driven  to  the  creation  of  a  dream-world  and  a  delirious  bliss 
in  Opium. 


175 

SECTION  II.— Continue-*. 

INDIA  —BUDDHISM.* 

IT  is  time  to  quit  the  Dream-State  characterizing  the  Hin- 
doo Spirit  revelling  in  the  most  extravagant  maze  through  all 
natural  and  spiritual  forms ;  comprising  at  the  same  time  the 
coarsest  sensuality  and  anticipations  of  the  profoundest 
thought,  and  on  that  very  account — as  far  as  free  and 
rational  reality  is  concerned — sunk  in  the  most  self-aban- 
doned, helpless  slavery  ; — a  slavery,  in  which  the  abstract 
forms  into  which  concrete  human  life  is  divided,  have  become 
stereotyped,  and  human  rights  and  culture  have  been  made 
absolutely  dependent  upon  these  distinctions.  In  contrast 
with  this  inebriate  Dream-life,  which  in  the  sphere  of  reality 
is  bound  fast  in  chains,  \ve  have  the  unconstrained  Dream- 
life  ;  which  on  the  one  hand  is  ruder  than  the  former — as  not 
having  advanced  so  far  as  to  make  this  distinction  of  modes 
of  life  — but  for  the  same  reason,  has  not  sunk  into  the  slavery 
which  this  entails.  It  keeps  itself  more  free,  more  inde- 
pendently firm  in  itself :  its  world  of  ideas  is  consequently 
compressed  into  simpler  conceptions. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Phase  just  indicated,  is  involved  m  the 
same  fundamental  principle  as  that  assigned  to  Hindoo  con- 
ceptions :  but  it  is  more  concentrated  in  itself;  its  religion  is 
simpler,  and  the  accompanying  political  condition  more  calm 
and  settled.  This  phase  comprehends  peoples  and  countries 
of  the  most  varied  complexion.  We  regard  it  as  embracing 
Ceylon,  Farther  India  with  the  Birman  Empire,  Siam,Auamv 
—  north  of  that  Thibet,  and  further  on  the  Chinese  Upland 
with  its  various  populations  of  Mongols  and  Tartars.  We  shall 
not  examine  the  special  individualities  of  these  peoples,  but 
merely  characterize  their  Religion,  which  constitutes  the  most 
interesting  side  of  their  existence.  The  Religion  of  these 
peoples  is  Buddhism,  which  is  the  most  widely  extended 
religion  on  our  globe.  In  China  Buddha  is  reverenced  as 
Ibe;  in  Ceylon  as  Gautama;  in  Thibet  and  among  the 

*  As  in  Hegel's  original  plan  and  in  the  first  lecture  the  transition 
from  Indian  Brahminism  to  Buddhism  occupies  the  place  assigned  it  here, 
and  as  tins  position  of  the  chapter  on  Buddhism  agrees  bet'er  with  rncent 
investigations,  its  detachment  from  the  place  which  it  previously 
occ-i|  eel  and  mention  here  will  appear  sufficiently  justified, 


176  PAET    I.      THE    OEIENTAL   WOBLD. 

Mongols  this  religion  has  assumed  the  phase  of  Lamaisra. 
In  China — where  the  religion  of  Foe  early  received  a  great 
extension,  and  introduced  a  monastic  life— it  occupies  the 
position  of  an  integrant  element  of  the  Chinese  principle.  As 
the  Substantial  form  of  Spirit  which  characterizes  China, 
develops  itself  only  to  a  unity  of  secular  national  life,  which 
degrades  individuals  to  a  position  of  constant  dependence, 
religion  also  remains  in  a  state  of  dependence.  The  element 
of  freedom  is  wanting  to  it ;  for  its  object  is  the  princip>e 
of  Nature  in  general, — Heaven, — Universal  Matter.  But 
the  [compensating]  truth  of  this  alienated  form  of  Spirit 
[Nature  occupying  the  place  of  the  Absolute  Spirit]  is  ideal 
Unity  ;  the  elevation  above  the  limitation  of  Nature  arid  of 
existence  at  large  ; — the  return  of  consciousness  into  the 
soul.  This  element,  which  is  contained  in  Buddhism,  has 
made  its  way  in  China,  to  that  extent  to  \\hich  the  Chinese 
have  become  aware  of  the  unspirituality  of  their  condition, 
and  the  limitation  that  hampers  their  consciousness. — In 
this  religion, — which  may  be  generally  described  as  the  reli- 
gion of  self-involvement,  [undeveloped  Unity]*, — the  eleva- 
tion of  that  unspiritual  condition  to  subjectivity,  takes  place 
in  two  ways  ;  one  of  which  is  of  a  negative,  the  other  of  an 
affirmative  kind. 

The  negative  form  of  this  elevation  is  the  concentration  of 
Spirit  to  the  Infinite,  and  must  first  present  itself  under 
theological  conditions.  It  is  contained  in  the  fundamental 
dogma,  that  Nothingness  is  the  principle  of  all  things,  — that 
all  proceeded  from  and  returns  to  Nothingness.  The  various 
forms  found  in  the  World  are  only  modifications  of  proces- 
sion [thence].  If  an  analysis  of  these  various  forms  were 
attempted,  they  would  lose  their  quality  ;  for  in  themselves 
all  things  are  one  and  the  same  inseparable  essence,  and  this 
essence  is  Nothingness.  Tlie  connection  of  this  with  the 
Metempsychosis  can  be  thus  explained  :  All  [that  we  see]  is 
but  a  change  of  Form.  The  inherent  infinity  of  Spirit  — 
infinite  concrete  self-dependence — is  entirely  separate  from 
this  Universe  of  phenomena.  Abstract  Nothingness  is 
properly  that  which  lies  beyond  Finite  Existence — what 

*  Compare  Hegel's  "  Vorlesunyen  iiber  die  Philosophic  der  Religion,' 
2nd  Edition,  Pt.  I.  p.  384. 


SECT.  II.      INDIA.      BUDDHISM.  177 

we  may  call  the  Supreme  Being.  This  real  principle  oi 
the  Universe  is,  it  is  said,  in  eternai  repose,  and  in  itselt 
unchangeable.  Its  essence  consists  in  the  absence  of  activity 
and  volition.  For  Nothingness  is  abstract  Unity  with  itself. 
To  obtain  happiness,  therefore,  man  must  seek  to  assimilate 
himself  to  this  principle  by  continual  victories  over  himself; 
and  for  the  sake  of  this,  do  nothing,  wish  nothing,  desire 
nothing.  In  this  condition  of  happiness,  therefore,  Vice  or 
Virtue  is  out  of  the  question  ;  for  the  true  blessedness  is 
Union  with  Nothingness.  The  more  man  frees  himself  from 
all  speciality  of  existence,  the  nearer  does  he  approach  per- 
fection ;  and  in  the  annihilation  of  all  activity — in  pure 
passivity—  he  attains  complete  resemblance  to  Foe.  The 
abstract  Unity  in  question  is  not  a  mere  Futurity — a  Spiritual 
sphere  existing  beyond  our  own  ;  it  has  to  do  with  the  pre- 
sent ;  it  is  truth  for  man  [as  he  is],  and  ought  to  be  realized 
in  him.  In  Ceylon  and  the  Birman  Empire,  —  where  this 
Buddhistic  Faith  has  its  roots,-  there  prevails  an  idea,  that 
man  can  attain  by  meditation,  to  exemption  from  sickness, 
old  age  and  death. 

But  while  this  is  the  negative  form  of  the  elevation  of 
Spirit  from  immersion  in  the  Objective  to  a  subjective  reali- 
aation  of  itself,  this  Religion  also  advances  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  an  affirmative  form.  Spirit  is  the  Absolute.  Yet 
in  comprehending  Spirit  it  is  a  point  of  essential  importance 
in  what  determinate  form  Spirit  is  conceived.  When  we 
speak  of  Spirit  as  universal,  we  know  that  for  us  it  exists  only 
in  an  inward  conception;  but  to  attain  this  point  of  view, — to 
appreciate  Spirit  in  the  pure  subjectivity  of  Thought  and  con- 
ception,— is  the  result  of  a  longer  process  of  culture.  At  that 
p<vnt  in  history  at  which  we  have  now  arrived,  the  form  of 
Sjtrit  is  not  advanced  bejond  Immediateness  [the  idea  of  it 
is  not  yet  refined  by  reflection  and  abstraction],  God  is  con- 
ceived in  an  immediate,  unreflected  form  ;  not  in  the  form  of 
Thought — objectively.  But  this  immediate  Form  is  that  of  hu- 
aianity.  The  Sun, the  Stars  do  not  come  up  to  the ideaof  Spirit; 
but  Man  seems  to  realize  it ;  and  he,  as  Huddha,  Gautama,  Foe 
— in  the  form  of  a  departed  teacher,  and  in  the  living  form 
3!  the  Grand  Lama— receives  divine  worship.  The  Abstract 
Understanding  generally  objects  to  this  idea  of  a  Godman ; 
alleging  as  a  defect  that  the  form  here  assigned  to  Spirit 


178  PART    I.       THE  ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

is  an  immediate,  [unreflected,  unrefined]  one, —that  in  fact 
it  is  i.one  other  than  Man  in  the  concrete.  Herethe  character 
of  a  whole  people  is  bound  up  with  the  theological  view  just 
indicated.  The  Mongols — a  race  extending  through  the  whole 
of  central  Asia  as  far  as  Siberia,  where  they  are  subject  to  the 
Russians — worship  the  Lama;  and  with  this  form  of  worship  a 
simple  political  condition,:!  patriarch  al  life  in  .losely  united;  for 
they  are  properly  a  Nomad  people,  and  only  occasionally  are 
commotions  excited  among  them,  when  they  seem  to  be  beside 
themselves,  and  eruptions  and  inundations  of  vast  hordes  are 
occasioned.  Of  the  Lamas  there  are  three  :  the  best  known  is 
the  Dalai-Lama,  who  has  his  seat  at  Lassa  in  the  kingdom  of 
Thibet.  A  second  is  the  Teshoo-Lama,  who  under  the  title  of 
Bantshen  Rinbotshee  resides  atTeshoo-Lomboo;  there  is  also  a 
third  in  Southern  Siberia.  The  first  two  Lamas  preside  over 
two  distinct  sects,  of  which  the  priests  of  one  wear  yellow  caps, 
those  of  the  other,  red.  The  wearers  of  the  yellow  caps, — 
at  whose  head  is  the  Dalai-Lama,  and  among  whose  adherents 
is  the  Emperor  of  China, — have  introduced  celibacy  among 
the  priests,  while  the  red  sect  allow  their  marriage.  The 
English  have  become  considerably  acquainted  with  the  Teshoo- 
Lama  and  have  given  us  descriptions  of  him. 

The  general  form  which  the.  spirit  of  the  Lamaistic  develop- 
ment of  Buddhism  assumes,  is  that  of  a  living  human  being; 
while  in  the  original  Buddhism  it  is  a  deceased  person.  The  two 
hold  in  common  the  relationship  to  a  man.  The  idea  of  a  man 
being  worshipped  as  god, — especially  a  living  man, — has  in  it 
something  paradoxical  and  revolting;  but  the  following  con 
siderations  must  be  examined  before  we  pronounce  judgment 
respecting  it.  The  conception  of  Spirit  involves  its  being  re- 
garded as  inherently,  intrinsically,  universal.  This  condition 
must  be  particularly  observed,  and  it  must  be  discovered  how 
in  the  systems  adopted  by  various  peoples  this  universality 
is  kept  in  view.  It  is  not  the  individuality  of  the  subject  that 
is  revered,  but  that  which  is  universal  in  him;  and  which  among 
the  Thibetians,  Hindoos,  and  Asiatics  generally,  is  regarded  as 
the  essence  pervading  all  things.  This  substantial  Unity  of 
Spirit  is  realized  in  the  Lama,  who  is  nothing  but  the  form 
in  which  Spirit  manifests  itself;  and  who  does  not  hold  this 
Spiritual  Essence  as  his  peculiar  property,  but  is  regarded 
ae  partaking  iii  it  only  in  order  to  exhibit  it  to  others,  that 


SECT.  II.      INDIA.      BUDDHISM.  179 

they  may  attain  a  conception  of  Spirituality  and  be  led  to 
piety  and  blessedness.  The  Lama's  personality  as  such — his 
particular  individuality — is  therefore  subordinate  to  that  sub- 
stantial essence  which  it  embodies.  The  second  point  which 
constitutes  an  essential  feature  in  the  conception  of  the  Lama 
is  the  disconnection  from  Nature.  The  Imperial  dignity  of 
China  involved  [as  we  saw,]  a  supremacy  over  the  powers  of  Na- 
ture ;  while  here  spiritual  power  is  directly  separated  from  the 
vis  Natures.  The  ideanever  crosses  theminds  of  the  Lama- wor- 
shippers to  desire  of  the  Lama  to  shew  himself  Lord  of  Nature 
— to  exercise  magical  and  miraculous  power ;  for  from  the  being 
they  call  God,  they  look  only  for  spiritual  activity  and  the 
bestowal  of  spiritual  benefits.  Buddha  hasmoreover  theexpress 
names  "  Saviour  of  Souls," — "  Sea  of  Virtue," — "  the  Great 
Teacher."  Those  who  have  become  acquainted  with  the 
Teshoo-Lama  depict  him  as  a  most  excellent  person,  of  the 
calmest  temper  and  most  devoted  to  meditation.  Thus  also 
do  the  Lama-worshippers  regard  him.  They  see  in  him  a  man 
constantly  occupied  with  religion,  and  who  when  he  directs  his 
attention  to  what  is  human,  does  so  only  to  impart  consolation 
and  encouragement  by  his  blessing,  and  by  the  exercise  of 
mercy  and  the  bestowal  of  forgiveness.  These  Lamas  lead  a 
thoroughly  isolated  life  and  have  a  feminine  rather  than 
masculine  training.  Early  torn  from  the  arms  of  his  parents 
the  Lama  is  generally  a  well-formed  and  beautiful  child.  He 
is  brought  up  amid  perfect  quiet  and  solitude,  in  a  kind  of 
prison  :  he  is  well  catered  for,  and  remains  without  exercise  or 
childish  play,  so  that  it  is  not  surprising  that  a  feminine  sus- 
ceptible tendency  prevails  in  his  character.  The  Grand 
Lamas  have  under  them  inferior  Lamas  as  presidents  of  the 
great  fraternities.  In  Thibet  every  father  who  has  four  sons 
is  obliged  to  dedicate  one  to  a  conventual  life.  The  Mongols, 
who  are  especially  devoted  to  Lamaism —this  modification  of 
Buddhism — have  great  respect  for  all  that  possesses  life.  They 
live  chiefly  on  vegetables,  and  revolt  from  killing  any  animal, 
even  a  louse.  This  worship  of  the  Lamas  has  supplanted  Sha- 
manism, that  is,  the  religion  of  Sorcery.  The  Shamans — priests 
of  this  religion — intoxicate  themselves  with  strong  drinka 
and  dancing,  and  while  in  this  state  perform  their  incan- 
tations, fall  exhausted  on  the  ground,  and  utter  words  which 
pass  for  oracular,  Since  Buddhism  and  Lamaism  ha\c  taken 

XT  a 


ISO  PAET    I.    THE    OEIENTAL    WOBLD. 

the  place  of  the  Shaman  Eeligion,  the  life  of  the  Mongols 
has  been  simple,  prescriptive  and  patriarchal.  Where  they 
take  any  part  in  History,  we  find  them  occasioning  impulses 
that  have  only  been  the  groundwork  of  historical  develop- 
ment. There  is  therefore  little  to  be  said  about  the  political 
administration  of  the  Lamas.  A  Vizier  has  charge  of  the  se- 
cular dominion  and  reports  everything  to  the  Lama :  the 
government  is  simple  and  lenient ;  and  the  veneration  which 
the  Mongols  pay  to  the  Larna,  expresses  itself  chiefly  in  their 
asking  counsel  of  him  in  political  affairs. 


SECTION  III. 

PERSIA. 

ASIA,  separates  itself  into  two  parts, — Hither  and  Farther 
Asia;  which  are  essentially  different  from  each  other.  While 
the  Chinese  and  Hindoos — the  two  great  nations  of  Farther 
Asia,  already  considered, — belong  to  the  strictly  Asiatic, 
namely  the  Mongolian  Eace,  and  consequently  possess  a 
quite  peculiar  character,  discrepant  from  ours  ;  the  nations  of 
Hither  Asia  belong  to  the  Caucasian,  i.e.  the  European 
Stock.  They  are  related  to  the  West,  while  the  Farther- 
Asiatic  peoples  are  perfectly  isolated.  The  European  who 
o;oes  from  Persia  to  India,  observes,  therefore,  a  prodigious 
contrast.  Whereas  in  the  former  country  he  finds  himself 
still  somewhat  at  home,and  meets  with  European  dispositions, 
human  virtues  and  human  passions, — as  soon  as  he  crosses  the 
Indus  (i.e.  in  the  latter  region),  he  encounters  the  most  repel- 
lent characteristics,  pervading  every  single  feature  of  society. 

With  the  Persian  Empire  we  first  enter  on  continuous 
History.  The  Persians  are  the  first  Historical  People ;  Persia 
was  the  first  Empire  that  passed  away.  While  China  and 
India  remain  stationary,  and  perpetuate  a  natural  vege- 
tative existence  even  to  the  present  time,  this  land  has  been 
subject  to  those  developments  and  revolutions,  which  alone 
manifest  a  historical  condition.  The  Chinese  and  the  Indian 
Empire  assert  a  place  in  the  historical  series  only  on  their 
own  account  and  for  us  ;  [not  for  neighbours  and  successors.] 
But  here  in  Persia  first  arises  that  light  which  shines  itself,  and 
illuminates  what  is  around ;  for  Zoroaster's  "  Light"  belongs 
lo  the  World  of  Consciousness — to  Spirit  as  a  relation  to  some' 


SECT.  III.    PERSIA.  18  1 

thing  distinct  from  itself.  We  see  in  the  Persian  World  a  pure 
exalted  Unity,  as  the  essence  which  leaves  the  special  exist- 
ences that  inhere  in  it,  free ; — as  the  Light,  which  only  mani- 
fests what  bodies  are  in  themselves ;  -  a  Unity  which  governs 
individuals  only  to  excite  them  to  become  powerful  for  them- 
selves— to  develop  and  assert  their  individuality.  Light 
makes  no  distinctions :  the  Sun  shines  on  the  righteous  and 
the  unrighteous,  on  high  and  low,  and  confers  on  all  the 
same  benefit  and  prosperity.  Light  is  vitalizing  only  in  so 
far  as  it  is  brought  to  bear  on  something  distinct  from  itself, 
operating  upon  and  developing  that.  It  holds  a  position  of 
antithesis  to  Darkness,  and  this  antithetical  relation  opens 
out  to  us  the  principle  of  activity  and  life.  The  principle 
of  development  begins  with  the  history  of  Persia.  This 
therefore  constitutes  strictly  the  beginning  of  World-His- 
tory ;  for  the  grand  interest  of  Spirit  in  History,  is  to 
attain  an  unlimited  immanence  of  subjectivity, — by  an  abso- 
lute antithesis  to  attain  complete  harmony.* 

Thus  the  transition  which  we  have  to  make,  is  only  in  the 
sphere  of  the  Idea,  not  in  the  external  historical  connection. 
The  principle  of  this  transition  is  that  the  Universal  Essence, 
which  we  recognized  in  Brahm,  now  becomes  perceptible  to 
consciousness — becomes  an  object  and  acquires  a  positive  im- 
port for  man.  Brahm  is  not  worshipped  by  the  Hindoos  :  he 
is  nothing  more  than  a  condition  of  the  Individual,  a  religious 
feeling,  a  non-objective  existence, — a  relation,  which  for  con- 
crete vitality  is  that  of  annihilation.  But  in  becoming  objec- 
tive, this  Universal  Essence  acquires  a  positive  nature :  man 
becomes  free,  and  thus  occupies  a  position  face  to  face  as  it 
were  with  the  Highest  Being,  the  latter  being  made  objec- 
tive for  him.  This  form  of  Universality  we  see  exhibited  in 
Persia,  involving  a  separation  of  man  from  the  Universal 
essence ;  while  at  the  same  time  the  individual  recognizes 
himself  as  identical  with,  [a  partaker  in,]  that  essence.  In  the 
Chinese  and  Indian  principle,  this  distinction  was  not  made. 
We  found  only  a  unit  of  the  Spiritual  and  the  Natural.  But 
Spirit  still  involved  in  Nature  has  to  solve  the  problem  of 

*  In  earlier  stages  of  progress,  th«  mandates  of  Spirit  (social  and 
political  law,)  are  given  as  by  a  power  alien  to  itself — as  by  some  compul- 
sion of  mere  Nature.  Gradually  it  sees  the  untruth  of  this  alien  form  of 
validity — recognizes  these  mandates  as  its  own,  and  adopts  them  freely  svs 
H  law  of  liberty.  It  then  stands  in  clear  opposition  to  its  logical  contrary 
—Nature.— 2V. 


182  PART    I.    THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

freeing  itself  from  the  latter.  Eights  and  Duties  in  India 
are  intimately  connected  with  special  classes,  and  are  there- 
fore only  peculiarities  attaching  to  man  by  the  arrangement 
of  Nature.  In  China  this  unity  presents  itself  under  the 
conditions  of  paternal  government.  Man  is  not  free  there ; 
he  possesses  no  moral  element,  since  he  is  identical  with  the 
external  command  [obedience  is  purely  natural,  as  in  the 
lilial  relation, — not  the  result  of  reflection  and  principle.]  In 
the  Persian  principle,  Unity  first  elevates  itself  to  the  dis- 
tinction from  the  merely  natural ;  we  have  the  negation  of 
that  unreflecting  relation  which  allowed  no  exercise  of  mind 
to  intervene  between  the  mandate  and  its  adoption  by  the 
will.  In  the  Persian  principle  this  unity  is  manifested  as 
Light,  which  in  this  case  is  not  simply  light  as  such,  the  most 
universal  physical  element,  but  at  the  same  time  also  spiritual 
purity — the  Good.  Speciality — the  involvement  with  limited 
Nature — is  consequently  abolished.  Light,  in  a  physical 
and  spiritual  sense,  imports,  therefore,  elevation — freedom 
from  the  merely  natural.  Man  sustains  a  relation  to  Light — 
to  the  Abstract  Good — as  to  something  objective,  which  is  ac- 
knowledged, reverenced,  and  evoked  to  activity  by  his  Will. 
If  we  look  back  once  more, — and  we  cannot  do  so  too  fre- 
quently,— on  the  phases  which  we  have  traversed  in  arriving  at 
this  point,  we  perceive  in  China  the  totality  of  a  moral  Whole, 
but  excluding  subjectivity  ; — this  totality  divided  into  mem- 
bers, but  without  independence  in  its  various  portions.  AVe 
found  only  an  external  arrangement  of  this  political  Unity. 
In  India,  on  the  contrary,  distinctions  made  themselves  pro- 
minent ;  but  the  principle  of  separation  was  unspiritual. 
We  found  incipient  subjectivity,  but  hampered  with  the  con- 
dition, that  the  separation  in  question  is  insurmountable ; 
and  that  Spirit  remains  involved  in  the  limitations  of  Nature, 
and  is  therefore  a  self-contradiction.  Above  this  purity  of 
Castes  is  that  purity  of  Light  which  we  observe  in  Persia  ; 
that  Abstract  Good,  to  which  all  are  equally  able  to  approach, 
and  in  which  all  equally  may  be  hallowed.  The  Unity  re- 
cognized therefore,  nowr  first  becomes  a  principle,  not  an  exter- 
nal bond  of  soulless  order.  The  fact  that  every  one  has  a  share 
in  that  principle,  secures  to  him  personal  dignity. 

First  as  to  Geographical  position,  we  see  China  and  India, 
exhibiting  as  it  were  the  dull    half-conscious   brooding  of 


SECT.  III.    PERSIA — THE    ZEND    PEOPLE.  183 

Spirit,  in  fruitful  plains, — distinct  from  which  is  the  lofty  gir- 
dle of  mountains  with  the  wandering  hordes  that  occupy 
them.  The  inhabitants  of  the  heights,  in  their  conquest,  did 
not  change  the  spirit  of  the  plains,  but  imbibed  it  them- 
selves. But  in  Persia  the  two  principles — retaining  their  di- 
verait  — became  united,  and  the  mountain  peoples  with  their 
principle  became  the  predominant  element.  The  two  chief 
divisions  which  we  have  to  mention  are :— the  Persian  Upland 
itself,  and  the  Valley-plains,  which  are  reduced  under  the 
dominion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Uplands.  That  elevated 
territory  is  bounded  on  the  east  by  the  Soliman  mountains, 
which  are  continued  in  a  northerly  direction  by  the  Hindoo 
Koosh  and  Belur  Tag.  The  latter  separate  the  anterior  re- 
gion— Bactriana  and  Sogdiana,  occupying  the  plains  of  the 
Oxus — from  the  Chinese  Upland,  which  extends  as  far  as 
Cashgar.  That  plain  of  the  Oxus  itself  lies  to  the  north  of 
the  Persian  Upland,  which  declines  on  the  south  towards  the 
Persian  Gulf.  This  is  the  geographical  position  of  Iran.  On 
its  western  declivity  lies  Persia  (Earsistan;)  higher  to  the 
north,  Kourdistan, — beyond  this  Armenia.  Thence  extend  in 
a  south-westerly  direction  the  river  districts  of  the  Tigris  and 
the  Euphrates.-— The  elements  of  the  Persian  Empire  are  the 
Zend  race — the  old  Parsees  ;  next  the  Assyrian,  Median 
and  Babylonian  Empire  in  the  region  mentioned ;  but  the 
Persian  Empire  also  includes  Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  and  Syria, 
with  its  line  of  coast ;  and  thus  combines  the  Upland,  the 
Valley  Plains  and  the  Coast  region. 


People  derived  their  name  from  the  language 
Zend  Books  are  written,  i.e.  the  canonical  uuo&»« 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE  ZEND  PEOPLE. 

THE  Zend 
m  which  the 

on  which  the  religion  of  the  ancient  Parsees  is  founded.  Of 
this  religion  of  the  Parsees  or  Fire-worshippers,  there  are 
still  traces  extant.  There  is  a  colony  of  them  in  Bombay ; 
and  on  the  Caspian  Sea  there  are  some  scattered  families 
that  have  retained  this  form  of  worship.  Their  national  exist- 
ence was  put  an  end  to  by  the  Mahometans.  The  great  Zer- 
dusht — called  Zoroaster  by  the  Greeks — wrote  hid  religious 
books  in  the  Zend  language.  Until  nearly  the  last  third  of  the 
18th  century,  this  language  and  all  the  writings  composed 


184  PART  i.  THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD. 

in  it,  were  entirely  unknown  to  Europeans ;  when  at  length 
the  celebrated  Frenchman,  Anquetil  du  Perron,  disclosed 
to  us  these  rich  treasures.  Filled  with  an  enthusiasm  for  the 
Oriental  "World,  which  his  poverty  did  not  allow  him  to 
gratify,  he  enlisted  in  a  French  corps  that  was  about  to  sail 
for  India.  He  thus  reached  Bombay,  where  he  met  with 
the  Parsees,  and  entered  on  the  study  of  their  religious 
ideas.  "With  indescribable  difficulty  he  succeeded  in  obtaining 
their  religious  books  ;  making  his  way  into  their  literature, 
and  thus  opening  an  entirely  new  and  wide  field  of  research, 
but  which,  owing  to  his  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  lan- 
guage, still  awaits  thorough  investigation. 

Where  the  Zend  people,  mentioned  in  the  religious  books 
of  Zoroaster,  lived,  is  difficult  to  determine.  In  Media  and 
Persia  the  religion  of  Zoroaster  prevailed,  and  Xenophon  re- 
lates that  Cyrus  adopted  it :  but  none  of  these  countries  was 
the  proper  habitat  of  the  Zend  people.  Zoroaster  himself  calls 
it  the  pure  Aryan  :  we  find  a  similar  name  in  Herodotus,  for 
he  says  that  the  Medes  were  formerly  called  Arii—  a  name 
with  which  the  designation  Iran  is  connected.  South  of  the 
Oxus  runs  a  mountain  chain  in  the  ancient  Bactriana — 
with  which  the  elevated  plains  commence,  that  were  inhabi- 
ted by  the  Medes,  the  Parthians,  and  the  Hyrcanians.  In 
the  district  watered  by  the  Oxus  at  the  commencement  of 
its  course,  Bactra — probably  the  modern  Balk — is  said  to 
have  been  situated ;  from  which  Cabul  and  Cashmere  are 
distant  only  about  eight  days'  journey.  Here  in  Bactriana 
appears  to  have  been  the  seat  of  the  Zend  people.  In  the 
time  of  Cyrus  we  find  the  pure  and  original  faith,  and  the 
ancient  political  and  social  relations  such  as  they  are  described 
in  the  Zend  books,  no  longer  perfect.  Thus  much  appears 
certain  that  the  Zend  language,  which  is  connected  with  the 
Sanscrit,  was  the  language  of  the  Persians,  Medes,  and  Bac- 
trians.  The  laws  and  institutions  of  the  people  bear  an  evi- 
dent stamp  of  great  simplicity.  Four  classes  are  mentioned : 
Priests,  Warriors,  Agriculturists,  and  Craftsmen.  Trade 
only  is  not  noticed  ;  from  which  it  would  appear  that  the  peo- 
ple still  remained  in  an  isolated  condition.  Governors  of 
Districts,  Towns,  and  Boads,  are  mentioned;  so  that  all  points 
to  the  social  phase  of  society, — the  political  not  being  yet 
developed  ;  and  nothing  indicates  a  connection  with  other 


SECT.  III.    PERSIA — THE    ZEND    PEOPLE.  185 

states.  It  is  essential  to  note,  that  we  find  here  no  Castes, 
but  only  Classes,  aiid  that  there  are  no  restrictions  on  mar- 
riage between  these  different  Classes  ;  though  the  Zend 
writings  announce  civil  laws  and  penalties,  together  with 
religious  enactments. 

The  chief  point — that  which  especially  concerns  us  here — 
is  the  doctrine  of  Zoroaster.  In  contrast  with  the  wretched 
hebetude  of  Spirit  which  we  find  among  the  Hindoos,  a  pure 
ether — an  exhalation  of  Spirit — meets  us  in  the  Persian 
conception.  In  it,  Spirit  emerges  from  that  substan- 
tial Unity  of  Nature,  that  substantial  destitution  of  import, 
in  which  a  separation  has  not  yet  taken  place, — in  which 
Spirit  has  not  vet  an  independent  existence  in  contraposition 
to  its  object.  This  people,  namely,  attained  to  the  conscious- 
ness, that  absolute  Truth  must  have  the  form  of  Univer- 
sality— of  Unity.  This  Universal,  Eternal,  Infinite  Essence 
is  not  recognized  at  first,  as  conditioned  in  any  way  ;  it  is 
Unlimited  Identity.  This  is  properly  (and  we  have  already 
frequently  repeated  it,)  also  the  character  of  Brahm.  But 
this  Universal  Being  became  objective,  and  their  Spirit  became 
the  consciousness  of  this  its  Essence  ;  while  on  the  contrary 
among  the  Hindoos  this  objectivity  is  only  the  natural  one 
of  the  Brahmins,  and  is  recognized  as  pure  Universality  only 
in  the  destruction  of  consciousness.  Among  the  Persians 
this  negative  assertion  has  become  a  positive  one ;  and  man 
has  a  relation  to  Universal  Being  of  such  a  kind  that  he  re- 
mains positive  in  sustaining  it.  This  One,  Universal  Being,  is 
indeed  not  yet  recognized  as  the  free  Unity  of  Thought ;  not 
yet  "  worshipped  in  Spirit  and  in  Truth  ;"  but  is  still  clothed 
with  a  form  — that  of  Light.  But  Light  is  not  a  Lama,  a 
Brahmin,  a  Mountain,  a  brute, — this  or  that  particular  ex- 
istence,— but  sensuous  Universality  itself;  simple  manifesta- 
tion. The  Persian  Religion  is  therefore  no  idol-worship  ;  it 
does  not  adore  individual  natural  objects,  but  the  Universal 
itself.  Light  admits,  moreover,  the  signification  of  the  Spiri- 
tual ;  it  is  the  fcrm  of  the  Good  and  True, — the  substantiality 
of  knowledge  and  volition  as  well  as  of  all  natural  things. 
Light  puts  man  in  a  position  to  be  able  to  exercise  choice  ; 
and  he  can  only  choose  when  he  has  emerged  from  that  which 
had  absorbed  him.  But  Light  directly  involves  an  Opposite, 
namely,  Darkness ;  just  as  Evil  is  the  antithesis  of  Good.  As 


J86  PAUT    I.    THE    OEIENTAL    WORLD. 

man  could  not  appreciate  Good,  if  Evil  were  not ;  and  as  he 
can  be  really  good  only  when  he  has  become  acquainted  with 
the  contrary,  so  the  Light  does  not  exist  without  Darkness. 
Among  the  Persians,  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman  present  the  an- 
tithesis in  question.  Ormuzd  is  the  Lord  of  the  kingdom  of 
Light— of  Good  ;  Ahriman  that  of  Darkness— of  Evil.  But 
there  is  a  still  higher  being  from  whom  both  proceeded — a 
Universal  Being  not  affected  by  this  antithesis,  called  Zer- 
uane-Akerene — the  Unlimited  All.  The  All,  i.e.  is  some- 
thing abstract ;  it  does  not  exist  for  itself,  and  Ormuzd  and 
Ahriman  have  arisen  from  it.  This  Dualism  is  commonly 
brought  as  a  reproach  against  Oriental  thought;  and,  as  far 
as  the  contradiction  is  regarded  as  absolute,  that  is  certainly 
an  irreligious  understanding  which  remains  satisfied  with  it. 
But  the  very  nature  of  Spirit  demands  antithesis  ;  the  princi- 
ple of  Dualism  belongs  therefore  to  the  idea  of  Spirit,  which, 
in  its  concrete  form,  essentially  involves  distinction.  Among 
the  Persians,  Purity  and  Impurity  have  both  become  subjects 
of  consciousness ;  and  Spirit,  in  order  to  comprehend  itself, 
must  of  necessity  place  the  Special  and  Negative  existence  in 
contrast  with  the  Universal  and  Positive.  Only  by  overcoming 
this antithesisisSpirit twice-born — regenerated.  Thedeficiency 
in  the  Persian  principle  is  only  that  the  Unity  of  the  antithe- 
sis is  not  completely  recognized  ;  for  in  that  indefinite  con- 
ception of  the  Uncreated  All,  whence  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman 
proceeded,  the  Unity  is  only  the  absolutely  Primal  existence, 
and  does  not  reduce  the  contradictory  elements  to  harmony 
in  itself.  Ormuzd  creates  of  his  own  free  will ;  but  also 
according  to  the  decree  of  Zeruane-Akerene  ;  (the  representa- 
tion wavers  ;)  and  the  harmonizing  of  the  contradiction  is  only 
to  be  found  in  the  contest  which  Ormuzd  carries  on  with 
Ahriman,  and  in  which  he  will  at  last  conquer.  Ormuzd  is 
the  Lord  of  Light,  and  he  creates  all  that  is  beautiful  and  no- 
ble in  the  World,  which  is  a  Kingdom  of  the  Sun.  He  is  the 
excellent,  the  good,  the  positive  in  all  natural  and  spiritual 
existence.  Light  is  the  body  of  Ormuzd  ;  thence  the  worship 
of  Fire,  because  Ormuzd  is  present  in  all  Light ;  but  he  is 
not  the  Sun  or  Moon  itself.  In  these  the  Persians  vene- 
rate only  the  Light,  which  is  Ormuzd.  Zoroaster  asks  Or- 
muzd who  he  is  ?  He  answers  :  "  My  Name  is  the  ground  and 
centre  of  all  existence — Highest  Wisdom  and  Science  — 


EECT.  III.  PERSIA — THE  ZEND  PEOPLE.        187 

troyer  of  the  Ills  of  the  World,  and  maintainer  of  the  Uni- 
verse— Fulness  of  Blessedness — Pure  Will,"  &c.  That 
which  comes  from  Ormuzd  is  living,  independent,  and  lasting. 
Language  testifies  to  his  power ;  prayers  are  his  productions. 
Darkness  is  on  the  contrary  the  body  of  Ahriman ;  but  a 
perpetual  fire  banishes  him  from  the  temples.  The  chief 
end  of  every  man's  existence  is  to  keep  himself  pure,  and 
to  spread  this  purity  around  him.  The  precepts  that  have  this 
m  view  are  very  diffuse ;  the  moral  requirements  are  how- 
ever characterized  by  mildness.  It  is  said  :  if  a  man  loads 
you  with  revilings,  and  insults,  but  subsequently  humbles  him- 
self, call  him  your  friend.  We  read  in  the  Vendidad,  that 
sacrifices  consist  chiefly  of  the  flesh  of  clean  animals,  flowers 
and  fruits,  milk  and  perfumes.  It  is  said  there,  "  As  man 
was  created  pure  and  worthy  of  Heaven,  he  becomes  pure 
again  through  the  law  of  the  servants  of  Ormuzd,  which  is 
purity  itself ;  if  he  purifies  himself  by  sanctity  of  thought, 
word,  and  deed.  What  is  *  Pure  Thought?'  That  which 
ascends  to  the  beginning  of  things.  What  is  *  Pure  Word  ?' 
The  Word  of  Ormuzd,  (the  Word  is  thus  personified  and  im- 
ports the  living  Spirit  of  the  whole  revelation  of  Ormuzd.) 
What  is  '  Pure  Deed  ?'  The  humble  adoration  of  the  Hea- 
venly Hosts,  created  at  the  beginning  of  things."  It  is  im- 
plied in  this  that  man  should  be  virtuous :  his  own  will,  his 
subjective  freedom  is  presupposed.  Ormuzd  is  not  limited 
to  particular  forms  of  existence.  Sun,  Moon,  and  five  other 
stars,  which  bet-in  to  indicate  the  planets — those  illuminating 
and  illuminated  bodies — are  the  primary  symbols  of  Ormuzd ; 
the  Amshaspand,  his  first  sous.  Among  these,  Mitra  is  also 
named  :  but  we  are  at  a  loss  to  fix  upon  the  star  which  this 
name  denotes,  as  we  are  also  in  reference  to  the  others.  The 
Mitra  is  placed  in  the  Zend  Books  among  the  other  stars ; 
yet  in  the  penal  code  moral  transgressions  are  called  "  Mitra- 
sins," — e.g.  breach  of  promise,  entailing  300  lashes  ;  to  which 
in  the  case  of  theft,  300  years  of  punishment  in  Hell  are  to 
be  added.  Mitra  appears  here  as  the  presiding  genius  of 
man's  inward  higher  life.  Later  on,  great  importance  is  as- 
signed to  Mitra  as  the  mediator  between  Ormuzd  and  men. 
Even  Herodotus  mentions  the  adoration  of  Mitra.  In  Rome, 
at  a  later  date,  it  became  very  prevalent  as  a  secret  worship  ; 
find  we  find  traces  of  it  even  far  into  the  middle  ages.  Be- 


188  PART    i.    T11E    ORIENTAL    WORLD- 

sides  those  noticed  there  are  other  protecting  genii,  which  rank 
under  the  Amshaspand,  their  superiors  ;  and  are  the  govern- 
ors and  preservers  of  the  world.  The  council  of  the  seven 
great  men  whom  the  Persian  Monarch  had  about  him  was 
likewise  instituted  in  imitation  of  the  court  of  Ormuzd.  The 
Fervers — a  kind  of  Spirit-World — are  distinguished  from  the 
creatures  of  the  mundane  sphere.  The  Fervers  are  not  Spi- 
rits according  to  our  idea,  for  they  exist  in  every  natural  ob- 
ject, whether  fire,  water,  or  earth.  Their  existence  is  coeval 
with  the  origin  of  things  ;  they  are  in  all  places,  in  high  roads, 
towns,  &c.,  and  are  prepared  to  give  help  to  supplicants. 
Their  abode  is  in  Gorodman,  the  dwelling  of  the  "  Blessed," 
above  the  solid  vault  of  heaven.  As  Son  of  Ormuzd  we  find 
the  name  Dshemshid  :  apparently  the  same  as  he  whom  the 
Greeks  call  Achaemenes,  whose  descendants  are  called  Pishdu- 
dians — a  race  to  which, Cyrus  was  reported  to  belong.  Even  at 
a  later  period  the  Persians  seem  to  have  had  the  designation 
Achffimenians  among  the  Romans.  (Horace.  Odes  III.  i.  44.) 
Dshemshid,  it  is  said,  pierced  the  earth  with  a  golden  dagger; 
which  means  nothing  more  than  that  he  introduced  agriculture. 
He  is  said  then  to  have  traversed  the  various  countries,  origi- 
nated springs  and  rivers,  and  thereby  fertilized  certain  tracts 
of  land,  and  made  the  valleys  teem  with  living  beings,  &c.  In 
the  Zendavesta,  the  name  Gustasp  is  also  frequently  men- 
tioned, which  many  recent  investigators  have  been  inclined  to 
connect  with  Darius  Hystaspes  ;  an  idea  however  that  cannot 
be  entertained  for  a  moment,  for  this  Gustasp  doubtless  be- 
.ongs  to  the  ancient  Zend  Eace — to  a  period  therefore  antece- 
dent to  Cyrus.  Mention  is  made  in  the  Zend  books  of  the 
Turanians  also,  i.e.  the  Nomade  tribes  of  the  north  ;  though 
nothing  historical  can  be  thence  deduced. 

The  ritual  observances  of  the  religion  of  Ormuzd  import 
that  men  should  conduct  themselves  in  harmony  with  the 
Kingdom  of  Lipht.  The  great  general  commandment  is 
therefore,  as  already  said,  spiritual  and  corporeal  purity,  con- 
sisting in  many  prayers  to  Ormuzd.  It  was  made  specially 
obligatory  upon  the  Persians,  to  maintain  living  existences, — 
to  plant  trees — to  dig  wells — to  fertilize  deserts ;  in  order 
that  Life,  the  Positive,  the  Pure  might  be  furthered,  and 
*-he  dominion  of  Ormuzd  be  universally  extended.  External 
purity  is  contravened  by  touching  a  dead  animal,  and  ther<* 


SECT.  III.    PEKSIA — THE    ZEND    PEOPLE.  189 

are  many  directions  for  being  purified  from  such  pollution. 
Herodotus  relates  of  Cyrus,  that  when  he  went  against 
Babylon,  and  the  river  Gyndes  engulfed  one  of  the  horses  of 
the  Chariot  of  the  Sun,  he  was  occupied  for  a  year  in  punish- 
ing it,  by  diverting  its  stream  into  small  canals,  to  deprive 
it  of  its  power.  Thus  Xerxes,  when  the  sea  broke  in  pieces 
his  bridges,  had  chains  laid  upon  it  as  the  wicked  and 
pernicious  being — Ahriman. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  ASSYRIANS.  BABYLONIANS,  MEDES  AND  PERSIANS. 

As  the  Zend  Race  was  the  higher  spiritual  element  of  the 
Persian  Empire,  so  in  Assyria  and  Babylonia  we  have  the 
element  of  external  wealth,  luxury  and  commerce.  Tradi- 
tions respecting  them  ascend  to  the  remotest  periods  of 
History;  but  in  themselves  they  are  obscure,  and  partly 
contradictory  ;  and  this  contradiction  is  the  less  easy  to  be 
cleared  up,  as  they  have  no  canonical  books  or  indigenous 
works.  The  Greek  historian  Ctesias  is  said  to  have  had 
direct  access  to  the  archives  of  the  Persian  Kings  ;  yet  we 
have  only  a  few  fragments  remaining.  Herodotus  gives  ua 
much  information  ;  the  accounts  in  the  Bible  are  also  valuable 
and  remarkable  in  the  highest  degree,  for  the  Hebrews  were 
immediately  connected  with  the  Babylonians.  In  regard  to 
the  Persians,  special  mention  must  be  made  of  the  Epic, 
"  Shah-nameh,"  by  Ferdousi, — a  heroic  poem  in  60,000 
strophes,  from  which  Gbrres  has  given  a  copious  extract. 
Ferdousi  lived  at  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century 
A.  D.  at  the  court  of  Mahmoud  the  Great,  at  Ghasna,  east 
of  Cabul  and  Candahar.  The  celebrated  Epic  just  mentioned 
has  the  old  heroic  traditions  of  Iran  (that  is  of  West  Persia 
proper)  for  its  subject ;  but  it  has  not  the  value  of  a  historical 
authority,  since  its  contents  are  poetical  and  its  author  a 
Mahometan.  The  contest  of  Iran  and  Turan  is  described 
in  this  heroic  poem.  Iran  is  Persia  Proper  — the  Mountain 
Land  on  the  south  of  the  Oxus ;  Turan  denotes  the  plains  of 
the  Oxus  and  those  Wing  between  it  and  the  ancient 


100  PART   I.    1  HE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

Jaxartes.  A  hero,  Rustan,  plays  the  principal  part  in  th& 
poem ;  but  its  narrations  are  either  altogether  fabulous,  ol 
quite  distorted.  Mention  is  made  of  Alexander,  and  he  i* 
called  Ishkander  or  Scander  of  Houm.  E-oum  means  the 
Turkish  Empire  (even  now  one  of  its  provinces  is  callec 
Uoumelia),  but  it  denotes  also  the  Roman ;  and  in  thepoeir 
Alexander's  Empire  has  equally  the  appellation  Roum. 
Confusions  of  this  kind  are  quite  of  a  piece  with  the  Mahome- 
tan views.  It  is  related  in  the  poem,  that  the  King  of  IraiL 
made  war  on  Philip,  and  that  this  latter  was  beaten.  The 
King  then  demanded  Philip's  daughter  as  a  wife  ;  but  after 
he  had  lived  a  long  time  with  her,  he  sent  her  away  be- 
cause her  breath  was  disagreeable.  On  returning  to  her 
father,  she  gave  birth  to  a  son — Skander,  who  hastened  to 
Iran  to  take  possession  of  the  throne  after  the  death  of  his 
father.  Add  to  the  above  that  in  the  whole  of  the  poem  no 
personage  or  narrative  occurs  that  can  be  connected  with 
Cyrus,  and  we  have  sufficient  data  for  estimating  its  histori- 
cal value.  It  has  a  value  for  us,  however,  so  far  as  Ferdousi 
therein  exhibits  the  spirit  of  his  time,  and  the  character  and 
interest  of  Modern  Persian  views. 

As  regards  Assyria,  we  must  observe,  that  it  is  a  rather 
indeterminate  designation.  Assyria  Proper  is  a  part  of 
Mesopotamia,  to  the  north  of  Babylon.  As  chief  towns  of 
this  Empire  are  mentioned,  Atur  or  Assur  on  the  Tigris,  and 
of  later  origin  Nineveh,  said  to  have  been  founded  and  built 
by  Ninus,  the  Founder  of  the  Assyrian  Empire.  In  those 
times  one  City  constituted  the  whole  Empire, — Nineveh  for 
example :  so  also  Ecbatana  in  Media,,  which  is  said  to  have 
had  seven  walls,  between  whose  enclosures  agriculture  was 
carried  on ;  and  within  whose  innermost  wall  was  the  palace 
of  the  ruler.  Thus  too,  Nineveh,  according  to  Diodorus, 
was  480  Stadia  (about  12  German  miles — [55  English]) 
in  circumference.  On  the  walls,  which  were  100  feet  high, 
were  fifteen  hundred  towers,  within  which  a  vast  mass  of 
people  resided.  Babylon  included  an  equally  immense  popu- 
lation. These  cities  arose  in  consequence  of  a  twofold 
necessity, — on  the  one  hand  that  of  giving  up  the  nomade 
life  and  pursuing  agriculture,  handicrafts  and  trade  in 
fixed  abode ;  and  on  the  other  hand  of  gaining  protection 
against  the  roving  mountain  peoples,  and  the  predatory 


III.  PERSIA — T1IE  ASS  YET  A  NS,  BABYLONIANS,  &C.      191 

Arabs.  Older  traditions  indicate  that  this  entire  valley  dis- 
trict was  traversed  by  Nomades,  and  that  this  mode  of  life 
pave  way  before  that  of  the  cities.  Thus  Abraham  wan- 
dered forth  with  his  family  from  Mesopotamia  westwards, 
into  mountainous  Palestine.  Even  at  this  day  the  country 
round  Bagdad  is  thus  infested  by  roving  Nomades.  Nineveh 
is  said  to  have  been  built  2050  years  B.  c.;  consequently 
the  founding  of  the  Assyrian  Kingdom  is  of  no  later  date. 
Ninus  reduced  under  his  sway  also  Babylonia,  Media 
and  Bactriana ;  the  conquest  of  which  latter  country  is 
particularly  extolled  as  having  displayed  the  greatest 
energy ;  for  Ctesias  reckons  the  number  of  troops  that  ac- 
companied Ninus,  at  1,700,000  infantry  and  a  proportionate 
number  of  cavalry.  Baotra  was  besieged  for  a  very  consider- 
able time,  and  its  conquest  is  ascribed  to  Semirnmis  ;  who 
with  a  valiant  host  is  said  to  have  ascended  the  steep  acclivity 
of  a  mountain.  The  personality  of  Semiramis  wavers  be- 
tween mythological  and  historical  representations.  To  her 
is  ascribed  the  building  of  the  Tower  of  Babel,  respecting 
which  we  have  in  the  Bible  one  of  the  oldest  of  traditions. — 
Babylon  lay  to  the  south,  on  the  Euphrates,  in  a  plain  of 
great  fertility  and  well  adapted  for  agriculture.  On  the 
Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  there  was  considerable  navigation. 
Vessels  came  partly  from  Armenia,  partly  from  the  South,  to 
Babylon,  and  conveyed  thither  an  immense  amount  of  mate- 
rial wealth.  The  land  round  Babylon  was  intersected  by  innu- 
merable canals  ;  more  for  purposes  of  agriculture — to  irri- 
gate the  soil  and  to  obviate  inundations— than  for  navigation. 
The  magnificent  buildings  of  Semiramis  in  Babylon  itself 
are  celebrated ;  though  how  much  of  the  city  is  to  be 
ascribed  to  the  more  ancient  period,  is  undetermined  and 
uncertain.  It  is  said  that  Babylon  formed  a  square,  bisected 
by  the  Euphrates.  On  one  side  of  the  stream  was  the  tem- 
ple of  Bel,  on  the  other  the  great  palaces  of  the  monarchs. 
The  city  is  reputed  to  have  had  a  hundred  brazen  (i  e.  copper) 
gates,  its  walls  being  100  feet  high,  and  thick  in  proportion, 
defended  by  two  hundred  and  fifty  towers.  The  thorough- 
fares in  the  city  which  led  towards  the  river  were  closed 
every  night  by  brazen  doors.  Ker  Porter,  an  Englishman, 
about  twelve  years  ago  (his  whole  tour  occupied  from  1817 
to  1820)  traversed  the  countries  where  ancient  Babylon  lay : 


192  PART   I.    THE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

on  an  elevation  be  thought  he  could  discover  remains  still 
existing  of  the  old  tower  of  Babel ;  and  supposed  that  he  had 
found  traces  of  the  numerous  roads  that  wound  around  the 
tower,  and  in  whose  loftiest  story  the  image  of  Bel  was  set 
up.  There  are  besides  many  hills  with  remains  of  ancient 
structures.  The  bricks  correspond  with  the  description 
in  the  Biblical  record  of  the  building  of  the  tower.  A 
vast  plain  is  covered  by  an  innumerable  multitude  of  such 
bricks,  although  for  many  thousand  years  the  practice  of 
removing  them  has  been  continued  ;  and  the  entire  town  of 
Hila,  which  lies  in  the  vicinity  of  the  ancient  Babylon,  has 
been  built  with  them.  Herodotus  relates  some  remarkable 
facts  in  the  customs  of  the  Babylonians,  which  appear  to 
shew  that  they  were  people  living  peaceably  and  neighbourly 
with  each  other.  When  any  one  in  Babylon  fell  ill,  he  was 
brought  to  some  open  place,  that  every  passer  bv  might  have 
the  opportunity  of  giving  him  his  advice.  Marriageable 
daughters  were  disposed  of  by  auction,  and  the  high  price 
offered  for  a  belle  was  allotted  as  a  dowry  for  her  plainer 
neighbour.  Such  an  arrangement  was  not  deemed  inconsist- 
ent with  the  obligation  under  which  every  woman  lay  ot 
prostituting  herself  once  in  her  life  in  the  temple  of  Mylitta. 
It  is  difficult  to  discover  what  connection  this  had  with  their 
religious  ideas.  This  excepted,  according  to  Herodotus' s  ac- 
count, immorality  invaded  Babylon  only  at  a  later  period,  when 
the  people  became  poorer.  The  fact  that  the  fairer  portion  of 
the  sex  furnished  dowries  for  their  less  attractive  sisters, 
seems  to  confirm  his  testimony  so  far  as  it  shews  a  provident 
care  for  all;  while  that  bringing  of  the  sick  into  the  public 
places  indicates  a  certain  neighbourly  feeling. 

"VVe  must  here  mention  the  Medes  also.  They  were,  like 
the  Persians,  a  mountain-people,  whose  habitations  were 
south  and  south-west  of  the  Caspian  Sea  and  stretched  as 
far  as  Armenia.  Among  these  Medes  the  Magi  are  also 
noticed  as  one  of  the  six  tribes  that  formed  the  Median 
people,  whose  chief  characteristics  were  fierceness,  barbar- 
ism, and  warlike  courage.  The  capital  Ecbatana  was  built 
by  Dejoces,  not  earlier.  He  is  said  to  have  united  under  his 
kingly  rule  the  tribes  of  the  Medes,  after  they  had  made 
themselves  free  a  second  time  from  Assyrian  supremacy, 
and  to  nave  induced  them  to  build  and  to  fortify  for  him  a 


SECT.  III.  PERSIA — THE  ASSYRIANS,  BABYLONIANS,  &C.       J03 

palace  befitting  his  dignity.  As  to  the  religion  of  the  Medes, 
the  Greeks  call  all  the  oriental  Priests,  Magi,  which  is  there- 
fore a  perfectly  indefinite  name.  But  all  the  data  point  to 
the  fact  that  among  the  Magi  we  may  look  for  a  compara- 
tively close  connection  with  the  Zend  religion ;  but  that, 
although  the  Magi  preserved  and  extended  it,  it  experienced 
great  modifications  in  transmission  to  the  various  peoples  who 
adopted  it.  Xenophon  says,  that  Cyrus  was  the  first  that 
sacrificed  to  God  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  Magi. 
The  Medes  therefore  acted  as  a  medium  for  propagating  the 
Zend  Religion. 

The  Assyrian-Babylonian  Empire,  which  held  so  many 
peoples  in  subjection,  is  said  to  have  existed  for  one  thou- 
sand or  fifteen  hundred  years.  The  last  ruler  was  Sardana- 
palus, — a  great  voluptuary,  according  to  the  descriptions  we 
have  of  him.  Arbaces,  the  Satrap  of  Media,  excited  the 
other  satraps  against  him  ;  and  in  combination  with  them, 
led  the  troops  which  assembled  every  year  at  Nineveh  to  pay 
the  tribute,  against  Sardanapalus.  'The  latter,  although  he 
had  gained  many  victories,  was  at  last  compelled  to  yield 
before  overwhelming  force,  and  to  shut  himself  up  in  Nineveh  ; 
and,  when  he  could  not  longer  offer  resistance,  to  burn  him- 
self there  with  all  his  treasure.  .According  to  some  chrono- 
logists,  this  took  place  888  years  B.  c. ;  according  to  others, 
at  the  end  of  the  seventh  century.  After  this  catastrophe  the 
empire  was  entirely  broken  up  :  it  was  divided  into  an  Assy- 
rian, a  Median,  and  a  Babylonian  Empire,  to  which  also 
belonged  the  Chaldeans, — a  mountain  people  from  the  north 
which  had  united  with  the  Babylonians.  These  several 
Empires  had  in  their  turn  various  fortunes  ;  though  here  we 
meet  with  a  confusion  in  the  accounts  which  has  never 
been  cleared  up.  Within  this  period  of  their  existence 
begins  their  connection  with  the  Jews  and  Egyptians.  The 
Jewish  people  succumbed  to  superior  force  ;  the  Jews  were 
carried  captive  to  Babylon,  and  from  them  we  have  accurate 
information  respecting  the  condition  of  this  Empire.  Ac- 
cording to  Daniel's  statements  there  existed  in  Babylon  a 
carefully  appointed  organization  for  government  business. 
He  speaks  of  Magians,— from  whom  the  expounders  of  sacred 
writings,  the  soothsayers,  astrologers,  Wise  Men  acd 
Chaldeans  who  interpreted  dreams,  are  distinguished.  The 


19<£  PAET    I.   THE   ORIENTAL    WOHLD. 

Prophets  generally  say  much  ol  the  great  commerce  of 
Babylon  ;  but  they  also  draw  a  terrible  picture  of  the  prevail- 
ing depravity  of  manners. 

The   real   culmination   of  the  Persian   Empire  is  to  be 
looked  for  in  connection  with  the  Persian  people  properly 
so    called,  which,  embracing  in  its   rule  all  Anterior  Asia, 
came   into  contact   with  the    Greeks.      The   Persians   are 
found   in   extremely   close   and   early  connection  with  the 
Medes;   and  the  transmission  of  the  sovereignty  to  the  Per- 
sians makes  no  essential  difference  ;  for  Cyrus  was  himself  a 
relation  of  the  Median  King,  and  the  names  of  Persia  and 
Media  melt  into  one.     At  the  head  of  the  Persians  and 
Medes,  Cyrus  made  war  upon  Lydia  and  its  king   Crces-us. 
Herodotus  relates  that  there  had  been  wars  before  that  time 
between  Lydia  and  Media,  but  which  had  been  settled  by 
the  intervention  of  the  King  of  Babylon.  We  recognize  here 
a  system  of  States,  consisting  of  Lydia,  Media,  and  Babylon. 
The  latter  had  become  predominant  and  had  extended  its 
dominion  to  the  Mediterranean  Sea.    Lydia  stretched  east- 
ward as  far  as  the  Halys ;  and  the  border  of  the  western 
coast  of  Asia  Minor,  the  fair  Greek  colonies,  were  subject 
to  it ;   a  high  degree  of  culture  was  thus  already  present 
in  the  Lydian  Empire.     Art  and  poetry  were  blooming  there 
as  cultivated  by  the  Greeks.     These  colonies  also  were  sub- 
jected to  Persia.     Wise  men,  such  as  Bias,  and  still  earlier, 
Thales,  advised  them  to  unite  themselves  in  a  firm  league, 
or  to  quit  their  cities  and  possessions,  and  to  seek  out  for 
themselves  other  habitations ;   (Bias  meant  Sardinia.)     But 
such  a  union  could  not  be  realized  among  cities  which  were 
animated  by  the  bitterest  jealousy  of  each  other,  and  who 
lived  in  continual  quarrel :  while  in  the  intoxication  of  afflu- 
ence they  were  not  capable  of  forming  the  heroic  resolve  to 
leave  their  homes  for  the  sake  of  freedom.     Only  when  they 
were  on  the  very  point  of  being  subjugated  by  the  Persians, 
did  some  cities  give  up  certain  for  prospective  possessions, 
in  their  aspiration  after  the  highest  good — Liberty.    Herodo- 
tus says  of  the  war  against  the  Lydians,  that  it  made  the 
Persians  who  were  previously  poor  and  barbarous,  acquainted 
for  the  first  time  with  the  luxuries  of  life  and  civilization. 
After  the   Lydian    conquest    Cyrus    subjugated    Babylon. 
With  it  he  came  into  possession  of  Syria  and  Palestine ; 


SECT.  III.     PERSIA—THE  EMPIRE  AND  ITS  PROVINCES.       195 

freed  the  Jews  from  captivity,  and  allowed  them  to  rebuild 
their  temple.  Lastly,  he  led  an  expedition  against  the 
Massagetae ;  engaged  with  them  in  the  steppes  between  the 
Oxus  and  the  Jaxartes ;  but  sustained  a  defeat,  and  died 
the  death  of  a  warrior  and  conqueror.  The  death  of  heroes 
who  have  formed  an  epoch  in  the  History  of  the  World,  is 
stamped  with  the  character  of  their  mission.  Cyrus  thus 
died  in  his  mission,  which  was  the  union  of  Anterior  Asia 
into  one  sovereignty  without  an  ulterior  object. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PERSIAN  EMPIRE  AND  ITS  CONSTITUENT  PARTS. 

THE  Persian  Empire  is  an  Empire  in  the  modern  sense, — 
like  that  which  existed  in  Germany,  and  the  great  imperial 
realm  under  the  sway  of  Napoleon  ;  for  we  find  it  consisting 
of  a  number  of  states,  which  are  indeed  dependent,  but 
which  have  retained  their  own  individuality,  their  manners, 
and  laws.  The  general  enactments,  binding  upon  all,  did 
not  infringe  upon  their  political  and  social  idiosyncrasies, 
but  even  protected  and  maintained  them ;  so  that  each  of 
the  nations  that  constitute  the  whole,  had  its  own  form  of 
Constitution.  As  Light  illuminates  everything — imparting 
to  each  object  a  peculiar  vitality — so  the  Persian  Empire 
extends  over  a  multitude  of  nations,  and  leaves  to  each  one  its 
particular  character.  Some  have  even  kings  of  their  own ; 
each  one  its  distinct  language,  arms,  way  of  life,  and  customs. 
All  this  diversity  coexists  harmoniously  under  the  impartial 
dominion  of  Light.  The  Persian  Empire  comprehends  all  the 
three  geographical  elements,  which  we  classified  as  distinct. 
First,  the  Uplands  of  Persia  and  Media ;  next,  the  Valley- 
plains  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  whose  inhabitants  are 
found  united  in  a  developed  form  of  civilization,  with  Egypt — 
the  Valley-plain  of  the  Nile — where  agriculture,  industrial 
arts  and  sciences  flourished ;  and  lastly  a  third  element,  viz. 
the  nations  who  encounter  the  perils  of  the  sea, — the  Syrians* 

o2 


19G  PAST   I.       THE    ORIENTAL   WOKLD. 

the  Phoenicians,  the  inhabitants  of  the  Greek  colonies  and 
Greek  Maritime  States  in  Asia  Minor.  Persia  thus  united 
in  itself  the  three  natural  principles,  while  China  and  India 
remained  foreign  to  the  sea.  We  find  here  neither  that  con- 
solidated totality  which  China  presents,  nor  that  Hindoo  life, 
in  which  an  anarchy  of  caprice  is  prevalent  everywhere.  In 
Persia,  the  government,  though  joining  all  in  a  central  unity, 
is  but  a  combination  of  peoples — leaving  each  of  them  free. 
Thereby  a  stop  is  put  to  that  barbarism  and  ferocity  with 
which  the  nations  had  been  wont  to  carry  on  their  destructive 
feuds,  and  which  the  Book  of  Kings  and  the  Book  of  Samuel 
sufficiently  attest.  The  lamentations  of  the  Prophets  and 
their  imprecations  upon  the  state  of  things  before  the  con- 
quest, shew  the  misery,  wickedness  and  disorder  that  prevailed 
among  them,  and  the  happiness  which  Cyrus  diffused  over 
the  region  of  Anterior  Asia.  It  was  not  given  to  the  Asiatics 
to  unite  self-dependence,  freedom  and  substantial  vigour  of 
mind,  with  culture,  i.e.  an  interest  for  diverse  pursuits  and  an 
acquaintance  with  the  conveniences  of  life.  Military  valour 
among  them  is  consistent  only  with  barbarity  of  manners.  It 
is  not  the  calm  courage  of  order ;  and  when  their  mind  opens 
to  a  sympathy  with  various  interests,  it  immediately  passes 
into  effeminacy ;  allows  its  energies  to  sink,  and  makes  men 
the  slaves  of  an  enervated  sensuality. 


PEESIA. 

THE  Persians, — a  free  mountain  and  nomade  people — 
though  ruling  over  richer,  more  civilized  and  fertile  lands, — 
retained  on  the  whole  the  fundamental  characteristics  of  their 
ancient  mode  of  life.  They  stood  with  one  foot  on  their 
ancestral  territory,  with  the  other  on  their  foreign  conquests. 
In  his  ancestral  land  the  King  was  a  friend  among  friends,  and 
as  if  surrounded  by  equals.  Outside  of  it,  he  was  the  lord  to 
whom  all  were  subject, and  bound  to  acknowledge  their  depen- 
dence by  the  payment  of  tribute.  Faithful  to  the  Zend  religion, 
the  Persians  give  themselves  to  the  pursuit  of  piety  and  the 
pure  worship  of  Ormuzd.  The  tombs  of  the  Kings  were  in 


SECT.  III.     PERSIA — THE  EMPIBE  AND  ITS  PIIOVINCES.       197 

Persia  Proper ;  and  there  the  King  sometimes  visited  his 
countrymen,  with  whom  he  lived  in  relations  of  the  greatest 
simplicity.  He  brought  with  him  presents  for  them,  while 
all  other  nations  were  obliged  to  make  presents  to  him. 
At  the  court  of  the  monarch  there  was  a  division  of  Persian 
cavalry  which  constituted  the  elite  of  the  whole  army,  ate 
at  a  common  table,  and  were  subject  to  a  most  perfect  disci- 
pline in  every  respect.  They  made  themselves  illustrious  by 
their  bravery,  and  even  the  Greeks  awarded  a  tribute  of 
respect  to  their  valour  in  the  Median  wars.  When  the  en- 
tire Persian  host,  to  which  this  division  belonged,  was  to 
engage  in  an  expedition,  a  summons  was  first  issued  to  all 
the  Asiatic  populations.  When  the  warriors  were  assem- 
bled, the  expedition  was  undertaken  with  that  character  of 
restlessness,  that  nomadic  disposition  which  formed  the  idio- 
syncrasy of  the  Persians.  Thus  they  invaded  Egypt,  Scythia, 
Thrace,  and  at  last  Greece  ;  where  their  vast  power  was  des- 
tined to  be  shattered.  A  march  of  this  kind  looked  almost 
like  an  emigration  :  their  families  accompanied  them.  Each 
people  exhibited  its  national  features  and  warlike  accoutre- 
ments, and  poured  forth  en  masse.  Each  had  its  own  order 
of  march  and  mode  of  warfare.  Herodotus  sketches  for  us 
a  brilliant  picture  of  this  variety  of  aspect  as  it  presented 
itself  in  the  vast  march  of  nations  under  Xerxes  (two  millions 
of  human  beings  are  said  to  have  accompanied  him.)  Yet,  as 
these  peoples  were  so  unequally  disciplined — so  diverse  in 
strength  and  bravery — it  is  easy  to  understand  how  the 
small  but  well- trained  armies  of  the  Greeks,  animated  by  the 
same  spirit,  and  under  matchless  leadership,  could  withstand 
those  innumerable  but  disorderly  hosts  of  the  Persians. 
The  provinces  had  to  provide  for  the  support  of  the  Persian 
cavalry,  which  were  quartered  in  the  centre  of  the  kingdom. 
Babylon  had  to  contribute  the  third  part  of  the  supplies  in 
question,  and  consequently  appears  to  have  been  by  far  the 
richest  district.  As  regards  other  branches  of  revenue,  each 
people  was  obliged  to  supply  the  choicest  of  the  peculiar 
produce  which  the  district  afforded.  Thus  Arabia  gave  frank- 
incense, Syria  purple,  &c. 

The  education  of  the  princes — but  especially  that  of  the 
heir  to  the  throne — was  conducted  with  extreme  care.  Till 
their  seventh  year  the  sons  of  the  King  remained  among 


19 S  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

the  women,  and  did  not  come  into  the  royal  presence. 
From  their  seventh  year  forward  they  were  instructed  in 
hunting,  riding,  shooting  with  the  bow,  and  also  in  speaking 
the  truth.  There  is  one  statement  to  the  effect  that  the 
prince  received  instruction  in  the  Magian  lore  of  Zoroaster. 
Four  of  the  noblest  Persians  conducted  the  prince's  educa- 
tion. The  magnates  of  the  land,  at  large,  constituted  a  kind 
of  Diet.  Among  them  Magi  were  also  found.  They  are 
depicted  as  free  men,  animated  by  a  noble  fidelity  and  pa- 
triotism. Of  such  character  seem  the  seven  nobles — the 
counterpart  of  the  Amshaspand  who  stand  around  Ormuzd — 
when  after  the  unmasking  of  the  false  Smerdis,  who  on  the 
death  of  King  Cam  by  sea  gave  himself  out  as  his  brother, 
they  assembled  to  deliberate  on  the  most  desirable  form  of 
government.  Quite  free  from  passion,  and  without  exhibit- 
ing any  ambition,  they  agree  that  monarchy  is  the  only  form 
of  government  adapted  to  the  Persian  Empire.  The  Sun, 
and  the  horse  which  first  salutes  them  with  a  neigh,  decide 
the  succession  in  favour  of  Darius.  The  magnitude  of  the 
Persian  dominion  occasioned  the  government  of  the  provinces 
by  viceroys — Satraps  ;  and  these  often  acted  very  arbitrarily 
to  the  provinces  subjected  to  their  rule,  and  displayed  hatred 
and  envy  towards  each  other  ;  a  source  of  much  evil.  These 
satraps  were  only  superior  presidents  of  the  provinces,  and 
generally  left  the  subject  kings  of  the  countries  in  possession 
of  regal  privileges.  All  the  land  and  all  the  water  belonged 
to  the  Great  King  of  the  Persians.  "  Land  and  Water " 
were  the  demands  of  Darius  Hystaspes  and  Xerxes  from  the 
Greeks.  But  the  King  was  only  the  abstract  sovereign : 
the  enjoyment  of  the  country  remained  to  the  nations  them- 
selves ;  whose  obligations  were  comprised  in  the  maintenance 
of  the  court  and  the  satraps,  and  the  contribution  of  the 
choicest  part  of  their  property.  Uniform  taxes  first  make 
their  appearance  under  the  government  of  Darius  Hystaspes. 
On  the  occasion  of  a  royal  progress  the  districts  of  the  em- 
pire visited  had  to  give  presents  to  the  King  ;  and  from  the 
amount  of  these  gifts  we  may  infer  the  wealth  of  the  unex- 
hausted provinces.  Thus  the  dominion  of  the  Persians 
was  by  no  means  oppressive,  either  in  secular  or  religious 
respects.  The  Persians,  according  to  Herodotus,  had  no 
idols — in  fact  ridiculed  anthropomorphic  representations  of 


SECT.    III.       PEESIA — SYRIA,    PHOSNICIA,    ETC.  199 

fche  gods ;  but  they  tolerated  every  religion,  although  there 
may  be  found  expressions  of  wrath  against  idolatry.  Greek 
temples  were  destroyed,  and  the  images  of  the  gods  broken 
in  pieces. 


SYRIA  AND  THE  SEMITIC  WESTERN  ASIA. 

One  element — the  coast  territory — which  also  belonged 
to  the  Persian  Empire,  is  especially  represented  by  Syria. 
It  was  peculiarly  important  to  the  Persia/i  Empire  ;  for 
when  Continental  Persia  set  out  on  one  of  its  great  expe- 
ditions, it  was  accompanied  by  Phoenician  as  well  as  by 
Greek  navies.  The  Phoenician  coast  is  but  a  very  narrow 
border, — often  only  two  leagues  broad, — which  has  the  high 
mountains  of  Lebanon  on  the  East.  On  the  sea-coast  lay  a 
series  of  noble  and  rich  cities,  as  Tyre,  Sidon,  Byblus, 
Berytus,  carrying  on  great  trade  and  commerce  ;  which  last, 
however,  was  too  isolated  and  confined  to  that  particular 
country,  to  allow  it  to  aif«ct  the  whole  Persian  state.  Their 
commerce  lay  chiefly  in  the  direction  of  the  Mediterranean 
sea,  and  it  reached  thence  far  into  the  West.  Through 
its  intercourse  with  so  many  nations,  Syria  soon  attained  a 
high  degree  of  culture.  There  the  most  beautiful  fabrications 
in  metals  and  precious  stones  were  prepared,  and  there  the 
most  important  discoveries,  e.g.  of  Glass  and  of  Purple,  were 
made.  Written  language  there  received  its  first  development, 
for  in  their  intercourse  with  various  nations,  the  need  of  it 
was  soon  felt.  (So,  to  quote  another  example,  Lord  Macart- 
ney observes  that  in  Canton  itself,  the  Chinese  had  felt  and 
expressed  the  need  of  a  more  pliable  written  language.)  The 
Phoenicians  discovered  and  first  navigated  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  They  had  settlements  in  Cyprus  and  Crete.  In  the 
remote  island  of  Thasos,  they  worked  gold  mines.  In  the 
south  and  south-west  of  Spain  they  opened  silver  mines.  In 
Africa  they  founded  the  colonies  of  Utica  and  Carthage. 
From  Gades  they  sailed  far  down  the  African  coast,  and  ac- 
cording to  some,  even  circumnavigated  Africa.  From  Britain 
they  brought  tin,  and  from  the  Baltic,  Prussian  amber. 


200  PART   I.      TIIE   ORIENTAL   WOULD. 

This  opens  to  us  an  entirely  new  principle.  Inactivity 
ceases,  as  also  mere  rude  valour;  in  their  place  appears  the 
activity  of  Industry,  and  that  considerate  courage  which, 
while  it  dares  the  perils  of  the  deep,  rationally  bethinks 
itself  of  the  means  of  safety.  Here  everything  depends  on 
Man's  activity,  his  courage,  his  intelligence ;  while  the 
objects  aimed  at  are  also  pursued  in  the  interest  of  Man. 
Human  will  and  activity  here  occupy  the  foreground,  not 
Nature  and  its  bounty.  Babylonia  had  its  determinate 
share  of  territory,  and  human  subsistence  was  there  depen 
dent  on  the  course  of  the  sun  and  the  process  of  Nature 
generally.  But  the  sailor  relies  upon  himself  amid  the  fluc- 
tuations of  the  waves,  and  eye  and  heart  must  be  always 
open.  In  like  manner  the  principle  of  Industry  involves  the 
very  opposite  of  what  is  received  from  Nature  ;  for  natural 
objects  are  worked  up  for  use -and  ornament.  In  Industry 
Man  is  an  object  to  himself,  and  treats  Nature  as  something 
subject  to  him,  on  which  he  impresses  the  seal  of  his  activity. 
Intelligence  is  the  valour  needed  here,  and  ingenuity  is 
better  than  mere  natural  courage.  At  this  point  we  see 
the  nations  freed  from  the  fear  of  Nature  and  its  slavish 
bondage. 

If  we  compare  their  religious  ideas  with  the  above,  we 
shall  see  in  Babylon,  in  the  Syrian  tribes,  and  in  Phrygia, 
first  a  rude,  vulgar,  sensual  idolatry, — a  description  of  which 
in  its  principal  features  is  given  in  the  Prophets.  Nothing 
indeed  more  specific  than  idolatry  is  mentioned ;  and  this  is 
an  indefinite  term.  The  Chinese,  the  Hindoos,  the  Greeks, 
practise  idolatry ;  the  Catholics,  too,  adore  the  images  of 
saints ;  but  in  the  sphere  of  thought  with  which  we  are  at 
present  occupied,  it  is  the  powers  of  Nature  and  of  pro- 
duction generally  that  constitute  the  object  of  veneration  ; 
and  the  worship  is  luxury  and  pleasure.  The  Prophets  give 
the  most  terrible  pictures  of  this, — though  their  repulsive 
character  must  be  partly  laid  to  the  account  of  the  hatred 
of  Jews  against  neighbouring  peoples.  Such  representations 
are  particularly  ample  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom.  Not  only 
was  there  a  worship  of  natural  objects,  but  also  of  the 
Universal  Power  of  Nature — Astarte,  Cybele,  Diana  of 
Ephesus.  The  worship  paid  was  a  sensuous  intoxication, 
excess,  and  revelry:  sensuality  and  cruelty  are  its  two 


QECT.    III.       PERSIA — STRIA,    PHOENICIA,    ETC.  201 

characteristic  traits.  '*  When  they  keep  their  holy  days  they 
act  as  if  mad,"  ["they  are  mad  when  they  be  merry," — 
English  Version]  says  the  Book  of  Wisdom  (xiv.  28).  With 
a  merely  sensuous  life — this  being  a  form  of  consciousness 
which  does  not  attain  to  general  conceptions — cruelty  is 
connected;  because  Nature  itself  is  the  Highest,  so  that  Man 
has  no  value,  or  only  the  most  trifling.  Moreover,  the  genius 
of  such  a  polytheism  involves  the  destruction  of  its  conscious- 
ness on  the  part  of  Spirit  in  striving  to  identify  itself  with 
Nature,  and  the  annihilation  of  the  Spiritual  generally. 
Thus  we  see  children  sacrificed — priests  of  Cybele  subject- 
ing themselves  to  mutilation — men  making  themselves  eu- 
nuchs— women  prostituting  themselves  in  the  temple.  As 
a  feature  of  the  court  of  Babylon  it  deserves  to  be  remarked, 
that  when  Daniel  was  brought  up  there,  it  was  not  required 
of  him  to  take  part  in  the  religious  observances  ;  and  more- 
over that  food  ceremonially  pure  was  allowed  him ;  that  he 
was  in  requisition  especially  for  interpreting  the  dreams  of 
the  King,  because  he  had  "the  spirit  of  the  holy  gods." 
The  King  proposes  to  elevate  himself  above  sensuous  life  by 
dreams,  as  indications  from  a  superior  power.  It  is  thus 
generally  evident,  that  the  bond  of  religion  was  lax,  and 
that  here  no  unity  is  to  be  found.  For  we  observe  also 
adorations  offered  to  images  of  kings  ;  the  power  of  Nature 
and  the  King  as  a  spiritual  Power,  are  the  Highest ;  so  that 
in  this  form  of  idolatry  there  is  manifested  a  perfect  contrast 
to  the  Persian  purity. 

We  find  on  the  other  hand  something  quite  different 
among  the  Phoenicians,  that  bold  seafaring  people.  Hero- 
dotus tells  us,  that  at  Tyre  Hercules  was  worshipped.  If 
the  divinity  in  question  is  not  absolutely  identical  with  the 
Greek  demigod,  there  must  be  understood  by  that  name  one 
whose  attributes  nearly  agree  with  his.  This  worship  is 
particularly  indicative  of  the  character  of  the  people ;  for  it 
is  Hercules  of  whom  the  Greeks  say,  that  he  raised  himself 
to  Olympus  by  dint  of  human  courage  and  daring.  The 
idea  of  the  Sun  perhaps  originated  that  of  Hercules  as  en- 
gaged in  his  twelve  labours  ;  but  this  basis  does  not  give  us 
the  chief  feature  of  the  myth,  which  is,  that  Hercules  is  that 
scion  of  the  gods  who,  by  his  virtue  and  exertion,  made  him- 
eelf  a  god  by  human  spirit  and  valour  ;  and  who,  instead  of 


202  PAET   I,      THE    ORIENTAL    WOELt>. 

passing  his  life  in  idleness,  spends  it  in  hardship  and  toil 
A  second  religious  element  is  the  worship  of  sldonia,  which 
takes  place  in  the  towns  of  the  coast,  (it  was  celebrated  iu 
Egypt  also  by  the  Ptolemies)  ;  and  respecting  which  we  find 
a  notable  passage  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom  (xiv.  13,  &c.), 
where  it  is  said :  "The  idols  were  not  from  the  beginning, — 
but  were  invented  through  the  vain  ambition  of  men,  be- 
cause the  latter  are  short-lived.  For  a  father  afflicted  with 
untimely  mourning,  when  he  had  made  an  image  of  his 
child  (Adonis)  early  taken  away,  honoured  him  as  a  god, 
who  was  a  dead  man,  and  delivered  to  those  that  were  under 
him  ceremonies  and  sacrifices  "  (E.  V.  nearly.)  The  feast  of 
Adonis  was  very  similar  to  the  worship  of  Osiris— the  com- 
memoration of  his  death  ; — a  funeral  festival,  at  which  the 
women  broke  o^ut  into  the  most  extravagant  lamentations 
over  the  departed  god.  In  India  lamentation  is  suppressed 
in  the  heroism  of  insensibility ;  uncomplaining,  the  women 
there  plunge  into  the  river,  and  the  men,  ingenious  in  in- 
venting penances,  impose  upon  themselves  the  direst  tortures; 
for  they  give  themselves  up  to  the  loss  of  vitality,  in  order 
to  destroy  consciousness  in  empty  abstract  contemplation. 
Here,  on  the  contrary,  human  pain  becomes  an  element  of 
worship  ;  in  pain  man  realizes  his  subjectivity :  it  is  ex- 
pected of  him,  — he  may  here  indulge  self-consciousness  and 
the  feeling  of  actual  existence.  Life  here  regains  its  value. 
A  universality  of  pain  is  established :  for  death  becomes 
immanent  in  the  Divine,  and  the  deity  dies.  Among  the 
Persians  we  saw  Light  and  Darkness  struggling  with  each 
other,  but  here  both  principles  are  united  in  one— the  Abso- 
lute. The  Negative  is  here,  too,  the  merely  Natural ;  but 
as  the  death  of  a,  god,  it  is  not  a  limitation  attaching  to  an 
individual  object,  but  is  pure  Negativity  itself.  And  this 
point  is  important,  because  the  generic  conception  that  has 
to  be  formed  of  Deity  is  Spirit ;  which  involves  its  being 
concrete,  and  having  in  it  the  element  of  negativity.  The 
qualities  of  wisdom  and  power  are  also  concrete  qualities, 
but  only  as  predicates ;  so  that  Grod  remains  abstract  sub- 
stantial unity,  in  which  differences  themselves  vanish,  and 
do  not  become  organic  elements  (Momente)  of  this  unity. 
But  here  the  Negative  itself  is  a  phase  of  Deity, — the 
Natural  —  Death  ; — the  worship  appropriate  to  which  is 


SECT.    III.      PEBSIA — JUD^A.  203 

grief.  It  is  in  the  celebration  of  the  death  of  Adonis,  and 
of  his  resurrection,  that  the  concrete  is  made  conscious. 
Adonis  is  a  youth,  who  is  torn  from  his  parents  by  a  too  early 
death.  In  China,  in  the  worship  of  ancestors,  these  latter 
enjoy  divine  honour.  But  parents  in  their  decease  only  pay 
the  debt  of  Nature.  When  a  youth  is  snatched  away  by 
death,  the  occurrence  is  regarded  as  contrary  to  the  proper 
order  of  things  ;  and  while  affliction  at  the  death  of  parents 
is  no  just  affliction,  in  the  case  of  youth  death  is  a  paradox. 
And  this  is  the  deeper  element  in  the  conception, — that  in 
the  Divinity,  Negativity— Antithesis — is  manifested  ;  and 
that  the  worship  rendered  to  him  involves  both  elements — 
the  pain  felt  for  the  divinity  snatched  away,  and  the  joy 
occasioned  by  his  being  found  again. 


JUDvEA. 

The  next  people  belonging  to  the  Persian  empire,  in  that 
wide  circle  of  nationalities  which  it  comprises,  is  the  Jewish. 
We  find  here,  too,  a  canonical  book — the  Old  Testament ;  in 
which  the  views  of  this  people  —whose  principle  is  the  exact 
opposite  of  the  one  just  described — are  exhibited.  While 
among  the  Phoenician  people  the  Spiritual  was  still  limited 
by  Nature,  in  the  case  of  the  Jews  we  find  it  entirely  puri- 
fied ; — the  pure  product  of  Thought.  Self-conception  appears 
in  the  field  of  consciousness,  and  the  Spiritual  develops 
itself  in  sharp  contrast  to  Nature  and  to  union  with  it.  It 
is  true  that  we  observed  at  an  earlier  stage  the  pure  concep- 
tion "  Brahm  ;"  but  only  as  the  universal  being  of  Nature  ; 
and  with  this  limitation,  that  Brahm  is  not  himself  an  object 
of  consciousness.  Among  the  Persians  we  saw  this  abstract 
being  become  an  object  for  consciousness,  but  it  was 
that  of  sensuous  intuition, — as  Light.  But  the  idea  of  Light 
has  at  this  stage  advanced  to  that  of  "  Jehovah  "—  ihe  purely 
One.  This  forms  the  point  of  separation  between  the  East 
and  the  West ;  Spirit  descends  into  the  depths  of  its  own 
being,  and  recognizes  the  abstract  fundamental  principle  aa 
the  Spiritual.  Nature, — which  in  the  East  is  the  primary  and 
fundamental  existence,  —is  now  depressed  to  the  condition  ol 


204  PART  I.       THE     ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

a  mere  creature ;  and  Spirit  now  occupies  the  first  place 
God  is  known  as  the  creator  of  all  men,  as  he  is  of  aL 
nature,  and  as  absolute  causality  generally.  But  this  great 
principle,  as  further  conditioned,  is  exclusive  Unity.  This 
religion  must  necessarily  possess  the  element  of  exclusive- 
ness,  which  consists  essentially  in  this, — that  only  the  One 
People  which  adopts  it,  recognizes  the  One  God,  and  is  ac- 
knowledged by  him.  The  God  of  the  Jewish  People  is  the 
God  only  of  Abraham  and  of  his  seed:  National  indi- 
viduality and  a  special  local  worship  are  involved  in  such  a 
conception  of  deity.  Before  him  all  other  gods  are  false : 
moreover  the  distinction  between  "true"  and  "false"  is 
quite  abstract ;  for  as  regards  the  false  gods,  not  a  ray  of 
the  Divine  is  supposed  to  shine  into  them.  But  every  form 
of  spiritual  force,  and  a  fortiori  every  religion  is  of  such  a 
nature,  that  whatever  be  its  peculiar  character,  an  affirma- 
tive element  is  necessarily  contained  in  it.  However 
erroneous  a  religion  may  be,  it  possesses  truth,  although  in 
a  mutilated  phase.  In  every  religion  there  is  a  divine  pre- 
sence, a  divine  relation  ;  and  a  philosophy  of  History  has  to 
seek  out  the  spiritual  element  even  in  the  most  imperfect 
forms.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  because  it  is  a  religion, 
it  is  therefore  good.  "We  must  not  fall  into  the  lax  con- 
ception, that  the  content  is  of  no  importance,  but  only  the 
form.  Tli is  latitudinarian  tolerance  the  Jewish  religion 
does  not  admit,  being  absolutely  exclusive. 

The  Spiritual  speaks  itself  here  absolutely  free  of  the  Sen- 
suous, and  Nature  is  reduced  to  something  merely  external 
and  un divine.  This  is  the  true  and  proper  estimate  of 
Nature  at  this  stage ;  for  only  at  a  more  advanced  phase 
can  the  Idea  attain  a  reconciliation  [recognize  itself]  in  this 
its  alien  form.  Its  first  utterances  will  be  in  opposition  to 
Nature;  for  Spirit,  which  had  been  hitherto  dishonoured, 
now  first  attains  its  due  dignity,  while  Nature  resumes  its 
proper  position.  Nature  is  conceived  as  having  the  ground 
of  its  existence  in  another, — as  something  posited,  created  ; 
and  this  idea,  that  God  is  the  lord  and  creator  of  Nature, 
leads  men  to  regard  God  as  the  Exalted  One,  while  the 
whole  of  Nature  is  only  his  robe  of  glory,  and  is  expended 
in  his  service.  In  contrast  with  this  kind  of  exaltation,  that 
which  the  Hindoo  rc>li^ion  presents  is  only  that  of  iudefini- 


SECT.    III.       PERSIA — JUDAEA.  205 

tude.  In  virtue  of  the  prevailing  spirituality  the  Sensuoua 
and  Immoral  are  no  longer  privileged,  but  disparaged  as  un- 
godliness. Only  the  One — Spirit— the  Non-sensuous  is  the 
Truth  ;  Thought  exists  free  for  itself,  and  true  morality  and 
righteousness  can  now  make  their  appearance ;  for  God  is 
honoured  by  righteousness,  and  right-doing  is  "  walking  in 
the  way  of  the  Lord."  "With  this  is  conjoined  happiness, 
life  and  temporal  prosperity  as  its  reward ;  for  it  is  said : 
"  that  thou  mayest  live  long  in  the  land." — Here  too  also  we 
have  the  possibility  of  a  historical  view ;  for  the  understanding 
lias  become  prosaic ;  putting  the  limited  and  circumscribed 
in  its  proper  place,  and  comprehending  it  as  the  form  proper 
to  finite  existence  :  Men  are  regarded  as  individuals,  not  as 
incarnations  of  God ;  Sun  as  Sun,  Mountains  as  Moun- 
tains,— not  as  possessing  Spirit  and  Will. 

We  observe  among  this  people  a  severe  religious  ceremo- 
nial, expressing  a  relation  to  pure  Thought.  The  individual 
as  concrete  does  not  become  free,  because  the  Absolute  itself 
is  not  comprehended  as  concrete  Spirit ;  since  Spirit  still 
appears  posited  as  non-spiritual — destitute  of  its  proper 
characteristics.  It  is  true  that  subjective  feeling  is  manifest, 
— the  pure  heart,  repentance,  devotion ;  but  the  particular 
concrete  individuality  has  not  become  objective  to  itself  in 
the  Absolute.  It  therefore  remains  close'ly  bound  to  the 
observance  of  ceremonies  and  of  the  Law,  the  basis  of  which 
latter  is  pure  freedom  in  its  abstract  form.  The  Jews 
possess  that  which  makes  them  what  they  are,  through  the 
One :  consequently  the  individual  has  no  freedom  for  itself. 
Spinoza  regards  the  code  of  Moses  as  having  been  given  by 
God  to  the  Jews  for  a  punishment — a  rod  of  correction. 
The  individual  never  comes  to  the  consciousness  of  inde- 
pendence ;  on  that  account  we  do  not  find  among  the  Jews 
any  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  for  individuality 
does  not  exist  in  and  for  itself.  But  though  in  Judaism  the 
Individual  is  not  respected,  the  Family  has  inherent  value  ; 
for  the  worship  of  Jehovah  is  attached  to  the  Family,  and 
it  is  consequently  viewed  as  a  substantial  existence.  But 
the  State  is  an  institution  not  consonant  with  the  Judaistic 
principle,  and  it  is  alien  to  the  legislation  of  Moses.  In  the 
idea  of  the  Jews,  Jehovah  is  the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac, 
and  Jacob  ;  who  commanded  them  to  depart  out  (f  Egypt) 


206  PABT  I.       THE     ORIENTAL    WOBLD. 

and  gave  fchem  the  land  of  Canaan.  The  accounts  of  the 
Patriarchs  attract  our  interest.  "We  see  in  this  history  the 
transition  from  the  patriarchal  nomade  condition  to  agri- 
culture. On  the  whole  the  Jewish  history  exhibits  grand 
features  of  character ;  but  it  is  disfigured  by  an  exclusive 
bearing  (sanctioned  in  its  religion,)  towards  the  genius  of  other 
nations,  (the  destruction  of  the  inhabitants  of  Canaan  being 
even  commanded), — by  want  of  culture  generally,  and  by  the 
superstition  arising  from  the  idea  of  the  high  value  of  their 
peculiar  nationality.  Miracles,  too,  form  a  disturbing  feature 
in  this  history — as  history ;  for  as  far  as  concrete  conscious- 
ness is  not  free,  concrete  perception  is  also  not  free ;  Nature 
is  undeified,  but  not  yet  understood. 

The  Family  became  a  great  nation  ;  through  the  conquest 
of  Canaan,  it  took  a  whole  country  into  possession ;  and 
erected  a  Temple  for  the  entire  people,  in  Jerusalem.  But 
properly  speaking  no  political  union  existed.  In  case  of 
national  danger  heroes  arose,  who  placed  themselves  at  the 
head  of  the  armies ;  though  the  nation  during  this  period  was 
for  the  most  part  in  subjection.  Later  on,  kings  were  chosen, 
and  it  was  they  who  first  rendered  the  Jews  independent. 
David  even  made  conquests.  Originally  the  legislation  is 
adapted  to  a  family  only  ;  yet  in  the  books  of  Moses  the  wish 
for  a  king  is  anticipated.  The  priests  are  to  choose  him :  he 
is  not  to  be  a  foreigner, — not  to  have  horsemen  in  large 
numbers, — and  he  is  to  have  few  wives.  After  a  short  period 
of  glory  the  kingdom  suffered  internal  disruption  and  was 
divided.  As  there  was  only  one  tribe  of  Levites  and  one 
Temple, — i.e.  in  Jerusalem,  —idolatry  was  immediately  intro- 
duced. The  One  God  could  not  be  honoured  in  different 
Temples,  and  there  could  not  be  two  kingdoms  attached  to 
one  religion.  However  spiritual  may  be  the  conception  of 
G-od  as  objective,  the  subjective  side — the  honour  rendered  to 
him  — is  still  very  limited  and  unspiritual  in  character.  The 
two  kingdoms,  equally  infelicitous  in  foreign  and  domestic 
warfare,  were  at  last  subjected  to  the  Assyrians  and  Babylo- 
nians ;  through  Cyrus  the  Israelites  obtained  permissioc 
to  return  home  and  live  according  to  their  own  laws. 


SECT.    III.      PERSIA — EGYPT.  207 


EGYPT. 

The  Persian  Empire  is  one  that  has  passed  away,  and  we 
have  nothing  but  melancholy  relics  of  its  glory.  Its  fairest 
and  richest  towns — such  as  Babylon,  Susa,  Persepolis — are 
razed  to  the  ground ;  and  only  a  few  ruins  mark  their  ancient 
site.  Even  in  the  more  modern  great  cities  of  Persia, — 
Ispahan  and  Shiraz,  —  half  of  them  has  become  a  ruin ;  and 
they  have  not — as  is  the  case  with  ancient  Rome — developed 
a  new  life,  but  have  lost  their  place  almost  entirely  in  the 
remembrance  of  the  surrounding  nations.  Besides  the  other 
lands  already  enumerated  as  belonging  to  the  Persian  Em- 
pire, Egypt  claims  notice,  — characteristically  the  Land  of 
Kuins ;  a  land  which  from  hoar  antiquity  has  been  regarded 
with  wonder,  and  which  in  recent  times  also  has  attracted 
the  greatest  interest.  Its  ruins,  the  final  result  of  immense 
labour,  surpass  in  the  gigantic  and  monstrous,  all  that  anti- 
quity has  left  us. 

In  Egypt  we  see  united  the  elements  which  in  the  Persian 
monarchy  appeared  singly.  "We  found  among  the  Persians 
the  adoration  of  Light  —  regarded  as  the  Essence  of  universal 
Nature.  This  principle  then  develops  itself  in  phases  which 
hold  a  position  of  indifference  towards  each  other.  The  one 
is  the  immersion  in  the  sensuous, — among  the  Babylonians 
and  Syrians  ;  the  other  is  the  Spiritual  phase,  which  is  two- 
fold: first  as  the  incipient  consciousness  of  the  concrete  Spirit 
in  the  worship  of  Adonis,  and  then  as  pure  and  abstract 
thought  among  the  Jews.  In  the  former  the  concrete  is  de- 
ficient in  unity;  in  the  latter  the  concrete  is  altogether  want- 
ing. The  next  problem  is  then,  to  harmonize  these  contra- 
dictory elements  ;  and  this  problem  presents  itself  in  Egypt. 
Of  the  representations  which  Egyptian  Antiquity  presents 
us  with,  one  figure  must  be  especially  noticed,  viz.  the  Sphinx 
—  in  itself  a  riddle — an  ambiguous  form,  half  brute,  half 
human.  The  Sphinx  may  be  regarded  as  a  symbol  of  the 
Egyptian  Spirit.  The  human  head  looking  out  from  the  brute 
body,  exhibits  Spirit  as  it  begins  to  emerge  from  the  merely- 
Natural — to  tear  itself  loose  therefrom  and  already  to  look 
more  freely  around  it ;  without,  however,  entirely  freeing  it- 
self from  the  fetters  Nature  had  imposed.  The  innumerable 


208          PAKT  I.  THE  OBIENTAL  WORLD. 

edifices  of  the  Egyptians  are  half  below  the  ground,  and  half 
rise  above  it  into  the  air.  The  whole  land  is  divided  into  a 
kingdom  of  life  and  a  kingdom  of  death.  The  colossal  statue 
of  Mem non  resounds  at  the  first  glance  of  the  young  morning 
Sun  ;  though  it  is  not  yet  the  free  light  of  Spirit  with  which 
it  vibrates.  Written  language  is  still  a  hieroglyphic  ;  and 
its  basis  is  only  the  sensuous  image,  not  the  letter  itself. 

Thus  the  memorials  of  Egypt  themselves  give  us  a  multi- 
tude of  forms  and  images  that  express  its  character ;  we 
recognize  a  Spirit  in  them  which  feels  itself  compressed; 
which  utters  itself,  but  only  in  a  sensuous  mode. 

Egypt  was  always  the  Land  of  Marvels,  and  lias  remained 
go  to  the  present  day.  It  is  from  the  Greeks  especially 
that  we  get  information  respecting  it,  and  chiefly  from 
Herodotus.  This  intelligent  historiographer  himself  visited 
the  country  of  which  he  wished  to  give  an  account,  and  at  its 
chief  towns  made  acquaintance  with  the  Egyptian  priests. 
Of  all  that  he  saw  and  heard,  he  gives  an  accurate  record ;  but 
the  deeper  symbolism  of  the  Egyptian  mythology  he  has  re- 
frained from  unfolding.  This  he  regards  as  something 
sacred,  and  respecting  which  he  cannot  so  freely  speak  as  of 
merely  external  objects.  Besides  him  Diodorus  Siculus  is 
an  authority  of  great  importance ;  and  among  the  Jewish 
historians,  Josephus. 

In  their  architecture  and  hieroglyphics,  the  thoughts  and 
conceptions  of  the  Egyptians  are  expressed.  A  national 
work  in  the  department  of  language  is  wanting :  and  that 
not  only  to  us,  but  to  the  Egyptians  themselves  ;  they  could 
not  have  any,  because  they  had  not  advanced  to  an  under- 
standing of  themselves.  Nor  was  there  any  Egyptian  his- 
tory, until  at  last  Ptolemy  Philadelphus, — he  who  had  the 
sacred  books  of  the  Jews  translated  into  Greek,—  prompted 
the  High- Priest  Manetho  to  write  an  Egyptian  history.  Of 
this  we  have  only  extracts, — list  of  Kings  ;  which  however 
have  occasioned  the  greatest  perplexities  and  contradictory 
views.  To  become  acquainted  with  Egypt,  we  must  for  the 
most  part  have  recourse  to  the  notices  of  the  ancients,  and 
the  immense  monuments  that  are  left  us.  We  find  a  number 
of  granite  walls  on  which  hieroglyphics  are  graved,  and  the 
ancients  have  given  us  explanations  of  some  of  them,  but 
which  are  quite  insufficient.  In  recent  times  attention  has  es*- 


SECT.    III.       PERSIA — EGYPT.  209 

pecially  been  recalled  to  them,  and  after  many  efforts  some- 
thing at  least  of  the  hieroglyphic  writing  has  been  deci* 
phered.  The  celebrated  Englishman,  Thomas  Young,  first 
suggested  a  method  of  discovery,  and  called  attention  to  the 
fact,  that  there  are  small  surfaces  separated  from  the  other 
hieroglyphics,  and  in  which  a  Greek  translation  is  percepti- 
ble. By  comparison  Young  made  out  three  names — Berenice, 
Cleopatra,  and  Ptolemy, — and  this  was  the  first  step  in  deci- 
phering them.  It  was  found  at  a  later  date,  that  a  great  part 
of  the  hieroglyphics  are  phonetic,  that  is,  express  sounds. 
Thus  the  figure  of  an  eye  denotes  first  the  eye  itself,  but 
secondly  the  first  letter  of  the  Egyptian  word  that  means 
"eye"  (as  in  Hebrew  the  figure  of  a  house,  3,  denotes  the 
letter  &,  with  which  the  word  '"^,  House,  begins.)  The 
celebrated  Champollion  (the  younger),  first  called  attention 
to  the  fact  that  the  phonetic  hieroglyphs  are  intermingled 
with  those  which  mark  conceptions ;  and  thus  classified  the 
hieroglyphs  and  established  settled  principles  for  deciphering 
them. 

The  History  of  Egypt,  as  we  have  it,  is  full  of  the  greatest 
contradictions.  The  Mythical  is  blended  with  the  Historical, 
and  the  statements  are  as  diverse  as  can  be  imagined. 
European  literati  have  eagerly  investigated  the  lists  given 
by  Manetho  and  have  relied  upon  them,  and  several  names  of 
kings  have  been  confirmed  by  the  recent  discoveries. 
Herodotus  says,  that  according  to  the  statements  of  the 
priests,  gods  had  formerly  reigned  over  Egypt,  and  that 
from  the  first  human  king  down  to  the  King  Setho  341  genera- 
tions, or  11,340  years,  had  passed  away  ;  but  that  the  first 
human  ruler  was  Menes  (the  resemblance  of  the  name  to 
the  Greek  Minos  and  the  Hindoo  Manu  is  striking).  "With 
the  exception  of  the  Thebaid— its  most  southern  part — Egypt 
was  said  by  them  to  have  formed  a  lake ;  the  Delta  presents 
reliable  evidence  of  having  been  produced  by  the  silt  of  the 
Nile.  As  the  Dutch  have  gained  their  territory  from  the 
sea,  and  have  found  means  to  sustain  themselves  upon  it ; 
so  the  Egyptians  first  acquired  their  country,  and  main- 
tained its  fertility  by  canals  and  lakes.  An  important 
feature  in  the  history  of  Egypt  is  its  descent  from  Upper  to 
Lower  Egjpt — from  the  South  to  the  North.  With  this  is 
connected  the  consideration  that  Egypt  probably  received  ita 

If 


2(0  PART    I.      THE    ORIENTAL    WORLD. 

culture  from  Ethiopia ;  principally  from  the  island  Meroe, 
\vhich,  according  to  recent  hypotheses,  was  occupied  by  a 
sacerdotal  people.  Thebes  in  Upper  Egypt  was  the  most 
ancient  residence  of  the  Egyptian  kings.  Even  in  Herodo- 
tus's  time  it  was  in  a  state  of  dilapidation.  The  ruins  of 
this  city  present  the  most  enormous  specimens  of  Egyptian 
architecture  that  we  are  acquainted  with.  Considering 
their  antiquity  they  are  remarkably  well  preserved :  which 
is  partly  owing  to  the  perpetually  cloudless  sky.  The  centre 
of  the  kingdom  was  then  transferred  to  Memphis,  not  far 
from  the  modern  Cairo ;  and  lastly  to  Sais,  in  the  Delta 
itself.  The  structures  that  occur  in  the  locality  of  this  city 
are  of  very  late  date  and  imperfectly  preserved.  Herodotus 
tells  us  that  Memphis  was  referred  to  so  remote  a  founder 
as  Menes.  Among  the  later  kings  must  be  especially 
noticed  Sesostris,  who,  according  to  Champollion,  is 
Rhamses  the  Great.  To  him  in  particular  are  referred  a 
number  of  monuments  and  pictures  in  which  are  depicted 
his  triumphal  processions,  and  the  captives  taken  in  battle. 
Herodotus  speaks  of  his  conquests  in  Syria,  extending  even 
to  Colchis  ;  and  illustrates  his  statement  by  the  great  simi- 
larity between  the  manners  of  the  Colchians  and  those  of 
the  Egyptians  :  these  two  nations  and  the  Ethiopians  were 
the  only  ones  that  had  always  practised  circumcision.  He- 
rodotus says,  moreover,  that  Sesostris  had  vast  ca*ials  dug 
through  the  whole  of  Egypt,  which  served  to  convey  the 
water  of  the  JSTile  to  every  part.  It  may  be  generally  re- 
marked that  the  more  provident  the  government  in  Egypt 
was,  so  much  the  more  regard  did  it  pay  to  the  maintenance 
of  the  canals,  while  under  negligent  governments  the  desert 
got  the  upper  hand  ;  for  Egypt  was  engaged  in  a  constant 
struggle  with  the  fierceness  of  the  heat  and  with  the  water 
of  the  Nile.  It  appears  from  Herodotus,  that  the  country 
had  become  impassable  for  cavalry  in  consequence  of  the 
canals ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  we  see  from  the  books  of 
Moses,  how  celebrated  Egypt  once  was  in  this  respect. 
Moses  says  that  if  the  Jews  desired  a  king,  he  must  not 
marry  too  many  wives,  nor  send  for  horses  from  Egypt. 

Next  to  Sefostris  the  Kings  Cheops  and  Chephreii  deserve 
special  mention.  They  are  said  to  have  built  enormous 
pyramids  and  closed  the  temples  of  the  priests.  A  son  cf 


SECT.   III.     PERSIA — EGYPT.  211 

Cheops  — Mycerinus — is  said  to  have  reopened  them ;  after 
him  the  Ethiopians  invaded  the  country,  and  their  king, 
Sabaco,  made  himself  sovereign  of  Egypt.  But  Any  sis,  the 
successor  of  Mycerinus,  fled  into  the  marshes — to  the  mouth 
of  the  Nile  ;  only  after  the  departure  of  the  Ethiopians  did 
he  make  his  appearance  again.  He  was  succeeded  by  Setho, 
who  had  been  a  priest  of  Phtha  (supposed  to  be  the  same  as 
Hephaestus)  :  under  his  government,  Sennacherib,  King  of 
the  Assyrians,  invaded  the  country.  Setho  had  always 
treated  the  warrior-caste  with  great  disrespect,  and  even 
robbed  them  of  their  lands ;  and  when  he  invoked  their 
assistance,  they  refused  it.  He  was  obliged  therefore  to 
issue  a  general  summons  to  the  Egyptians,  and  assembled  a 
host  composed  of  hucksters,  artisans,  and  market  people. 
In  the  Bible  we  are  told  that  the  enemies  fled,  and  that  it 
was  the  angels  who  routed  them ;  but  Herodotus  relates 
that  field-mice  came  in  the  night  and  gnawed  the  quivers 
and  bows  of  the  enemy,  so  that  the  latter,  deprived  of  their 
weapons,  were  compelled  to  flee.  After  the  death  of  Setho, 
the  Egyptians  (Herodotus  tells  us)  regarded  themselves  as 
free,  and  chose  themselves  twelve  kings,  who  formed  a 
federal  union,— as  a  symbol  of  which  they  built  the  Laby- 
rinth, consisting  of  an  immense  number  of  rooms  and  halls, 
above  and  below  ground.  In  the  year  650  B.C.  one  of  these 
kings,  Psammitichus,  with  the  help  of  the  lonians  and 
Carians  (to  whom  he  promised  land  in  Lower  Egypt,)  ex- 
pelled the  eleven  other  kings.  Till  that  time  Egypt  had  re- 
mained secluded  from  the  rest  of  the  world  ;  and  at  sea  it 
had  established  no  connection  with  other  nations.  Psammi- 
tichus commenced  such  a  connection,  and  thereby  led  the  way 
to  the  ruin  of  Egypt.  From  this  point  the  history  becomes 
clearer,  because  it  is  based  on  Greek  accounts.  Psammi- 
tichus was  followed  by  Necho,  who  began  to  dig  a  canal, 
which  was  to  unite  the  Nile  with  the  Ked  Sea,  but  which 
was  not  completed  until  the  reign  of  Darius  Nothus.  The 
plan  of  uniting  the  Mediterranean  Sea  with  the  Arabian 
Gulf,  and  the  wide  ocean,  is  not  so  advantageous  as  might 
be  supposed ;  since  in  the  Bed  Sea — which  on  other  accounts 
is  very  difficult  to  navigate — there  prevails  for  about  nine 
months  in  th»3  year  a  constant  north  wind,  so  that  it  is  only 
during  three  months  that  the  passage  from  south  to  north  is 

P  3 


212  PART   T.      THE    ORIENTAL   WOELD. 

feasible.  Necbo  was  followed  by  Psammis,  and  the  latter 
by  Apries,  who  led  an  army  against  Sidon,  and  engaged  with 
the  Tyrians  by  sea :  against  Gyrene  also  he  sent  an  army, 
which  was  almost  annihilated  by  the  Cyrenians.  The 
Egyptians  rebelled  against  him,  accusing  him  of  wishing  to 
lead  them  to  destruction;  but  this  revolt  was  probably 
caused  by  the  favour  shewn  by  him  to  the  Carians  and 
lonians.  Amasis  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  rebels, 
conquered  the  king,  and  possessed  himself  of  the  throne. 
By  Herodotus  he  is  depicted  as  a  humorous  monarch,  who, 
however,  did  not  always  maintain  the  dignity  of  the  throne. 
From  a  very  humble  station  he  had  raised  himself  to  royalty 
by  ability,  astuteness,  and  intelligence,  and  he  exhibited  in 
all  other  relations  the  same  keen  understanding.  In  the 
morning  he  held  his  court  of  judicature,  and  listened  to  the 
complaints  of  the  people ;  but  in  the  afternoon,  feasted  and 
surrendered  himself  to  pleasure.  To  his  friends,  who  blamed 
him  on  this  account,  and  told  him  that  he  ought  to  give  the 
whole  day  to  business,  he  made  answer:  "  If  the  bow  is  con- 
stantly on  the  stretch,  it  becomes  useless  or  breaks."  As 
the  Egyptians  thought  less  of  him  on  account  of  his  mean 
descent,  he  had  a  golden  basin — used  for  washing  the  feet — • 
made  into  the  image  of  a  god  in  high  honour  among  the 
Egyptians ;  this  he  meant  as  a  symbol  of  his  own  eleva- 
tion. Herodotus  relates,  moreover,  that  he  indulged  in 
excesses  as  a  private  man,  dissipated  the  whole  of  his  pro- 
perty, and  then  betook  himself  to  stealing.  This  contrast 
of  a  vulgar  soul  and  a  keen  intellect  is  characteristic  in  an 
Egyptian  king. 

Ainasis  drew  down  upon  him  the  ill-will  of  King  Cambyses. 
Cyrus  desired  an  oculist  from  the  Egyptians ;  for  at  that 
time  the  Egyptian  oculists  were  very  famous,  their  skill 
having  been  called  out  by  the  numerous  eye-diseases  preva- 
lent in  Egypt.  This  oculist,  to  revenge  himself  for  having 
been  sent  out  of  the  country,  advised  Cambyses  to  ask  for 
the  daughter  of  Amasis  in  marriage ;  knowing  well  that 
Axnasis  would  either  be  rendered  unhappy  by  giving  her 
to  him,  or  on  the  other  hand,  incur  the  wrath  of  Cam- 
byses by  refusing.  Amasis  would  not  give  his  daughter  to 
Camay  sea,  because  the  latter  desired  her  as  an  inferior  wife 
(for  nis  lawful  spouse  must  be  a  Persian)  ;  but  sent  him, 
under  the  name  of  his  own  daughter,  that  of  Apries,  who 


SECT.    III.      PERSIA-  EGYPT.  213 

afterwards  discovered  her  real  name  to  Cambyses.  The 
latter  was  so  incensed  at  the  deception,  that  he  led  an  expe- 
dition against  Egypt,  conquered  that  country,  and  united  it 
with  the  Persian  Empire. 

As  to  the  Egyptian  Spirit,  it  deserves  mention  here,  that 
the  Elians  in  Herodotus's  narrative  call  the  Egyptians  the 
wisest  of  mankind.  It  also  surprises  us  to  find  among  them, 
in  the  vicinity  of  African  stupidity,  reflective  intelligence, 
a  thoroughly  rational  organization  characterizing  all  institu- 
tions, and  most  astonishing  works  of  art.  The  Egyptians 
were,  like  the  Hindoos,  divided  into  castes,  and  the  children 
always  continued  the  trade  and  business  of  their  parents. 
On  this  account,  also,  the  Mechanical  and  Technical  in  the 
arts  was  so  much  developed  here ;  while  the  hereditary  trans- 
mission of  occupations  did  not  produce  the  same  disadvan- 
tageous results  in  the  character  of  the  Egyptians  as  in  India. 
Herodotus  mentions  the  seven  following  castes :  the  priests, 
the  warriors,  the  neatherds,  the  swineherds,  the  merchants  (or 
trading  population  generally)  the  interpreters — who  seem 
only  at  a  later  date  to  have  constituted  a  separate  class — and, 
lastly,  the  sea- faring  class.  Agriculturists  are  not  named  here, 
probably  because  agriculture  was  the  occupation  of  several 
castes,  as,  e.g.,  the  warriors,  to  whom  a  portion  of  the  land 
was  given.  Diodorus  and  Strabo  give  a  different  account  of 
these  caste-divisions.  Only  priests,  warriors,  herdsmen,  agri- 
culturists, and  artificers  are  mentioned,  to  which  latter,  perhaps, 
tradesmen  also  belong.  Herodotus  says  of  the  priests,  that 
they  in  particular  received  arable  laud,  and  had  it  cultivated 
for  rent;  for  the  land  generally  was  in  the  possession  of  the 
priests,  warriors,  and  kings.  Joseph  was  a  minister  of  the 
king,  according  to  Holy  Scripture,  and  contrived  to  make 
him  master  of  all  landed  property.  But  the  several 
occupations  did  not  remain  so  stereotyped  as  among  the 
Hindoos;  for  we  find  the  Israelites,  who  were  originally 
herdsmen,  employed  also  as  manual  labourers :  and  there  was 
a  king — as  stated  above — who  formed  an  army  of  manual 
labourers  alone.  The  castes  are  not  rigidly  fixed,  but 
struggle  with  and  come  into  contact  with  one  another :  we 
often  find  cases  of  their  being  broken  up  and  in  a  state  of 
rebellion.  The  warrior-caste,  at  one  time  discontented  on 
account  of  their  not  being  released  from  their  abodes  in  the 
direction  of  Nubia,  and  desperate  at  not  being  able  to  make 


214r  PAKT   I.      THE    ORIENTAL   WORL1>. 

use  of  their  lauds,  betakes  itself  to  Meroe,  and  foreign  me* 
cenaries  are  introduced  into  the  country. 

Of  the  mode  of  life  among  the  Egyptians,  Herodotus 
supplies  a  very  detailed  account,  giving  prominence  to 
everything  which  appears  to  him  to  deviate  from  Greek 
manners.  Thus  the  Egyptians  had  physicians  specially  de- 
voted to  particular  diseases ;  the  women  were  engaged  in 
out-door  occupations,  while  the  men  remained  at  home  to 
weave.  In  one  part  of  Egypt  polygamy  prevailed ;  in 
another,  monogamy ;  the  women  had  but  one  garment,  the 
men  two  ;  they  wash  and  bathe  much,  and  undergo  purifica- 
tion every  month.  All  this  points  to  a  condition  of  settled 
peace.  As  to  arrangements  of  police,  the  law  required  that 
every  Egyptian  should  present  himself,  at  a  time  appointed, 
before  the  superintendent  under  whom  he  lived,  and  state 
from  what  resources  he  obtained  his  livelihood.  If  he 
could  not  refer  to  any,  he  was  punished  with  death.  This 
law,  however,  was  of  no  earlier  date  than  Amasis.  The 
greatest  care,  moreover,  was  observed  in  the  division  of  the 
arable  land,  as  also  in  planning  canals  and  dikes;  under 
Sabaco,  the  Ethiopian  king,  says  Herodotus,  many  cities 
were  elevated  by  dikes. 

The  business  of  courts  of  justice  was  administered  with 
very  great  care.  They  consisted  of  thirty  judges  nominated 
by  the  district,  and  who  chose  their  own  president.  Pleadings 
were  conducted  in  writing,  and  proceeded  as  far  as  the 
"  rejoinder/'  Diodorus  thinks  this  plan  very  effectual,  in 
obviating  the  perverting  influence  of  forensic  oratory,  and  of 
the  sympathy  of  the  judges.  The  latter  pronounced  sentence 
silently,  and  in  a  bieroglyphical  manner.  Herodotus  says, 
that  they  had  a  symbol  of  truth  on  their  breasts,  and  turned 
it  towards  that  side  in  whose  favour  the  cause  was  decided, 
or  adorned  the  victorious  party  with  it.  The  king  himself 
had  to  take  part  in  judicial  business  every  day.  Theft,  we 
are  told,  was  forbidden ;  but  the  law  commanded  that  thieves 
should  inform  against  themselves.  If  they  did  so,  they  were 
not  punished,  but,  on  the  contrary,  were  allowed  to  keep  a 
fourth  part  of  what  they  had  stolen.  This  perhaps  was 
designed  to  excite  and  keep  in  exercise  that  cunning  for 
which  the  Egyptians  were  so  celebrated. 

The  intelligence  displayed  in  their  legislative  economy,  ap- 
pears characteristic  of  t  he  Egyptians.  This  intelligence,  which 


SECT.    III.      PEESIJL — EGYPT.  216 

manifests  itself  in  the  practical,  we  also  recognize  in  the 
productions  of  art  and  science.  The  Egyptians  are  reported 
to  have  divided  the  year  into  twelve  months,  and  each  monta 
into  thirty  days.  At  the  end  of  the  year  they  intercalated 
five  additional  days,  and  Herodotus  says  that  their  arrange- 
ment was  better  than  that  of  the  Greeks.  The  intelligence 
of  the  Egyptians  especially  strikes  us  in  the  department  of 
mechanics.  Their  vast  edifices — such  as  no  other  nation 
has  to  exhibit,  and  which  excel  all  others  in  solidity  and  size 
— sufficiently  prove  their  artistic  skill ;  to  whose  cultivation 
they  could  largely  devote  themselves,  because  the  inferior 
castes  did  not  trouble  themselves  with  political  matters. 
Diodorus  Siculus  says,  that  Egypt  was  the  only  country  in 
which  the  citizens  did  not  trouble  themselves  about  the 
state,  but  gave  their  whole  attention  to  their  private  business, 
Greeks  and  Romans  must  have  been  especially  astonished  at 
such  a  state  of  things. 

On  account  of  its  judicious  economy,  Egypt  was  regarded 
by  the  ancients  as  the  pattern  of  a  morally  regulated  con- 
dition of  things — as  an  ideal  such  as  Pythagoras  realized  in 
a  limited  select  society,  and  Plato  sketched  on  a  larger  scale. 
But  in  such  ideals  no  account  is  taken  of  passion.  A  plan 
of  society  that  is  to  be  adopted  and  acted  upon,  as  an 
absolutely  complete  one, — in  which  everything  has  been  con- 
sidered, and  especially  the  education  and  habituation  to  it, 
necessary  to  its  becoming  a  second  nature, — is  altogether 
opposed  to  the  nature  of  Spirit,  which  makes  contemporary- 
life  the  object  on  which  it  acts;  itself  being  the  infinite  impulse 
of  activity  to  alter  its  forms.  This  impulse  also  expressed  itself 
in  Egypt  in  a  peculiar  way.  It  would  appear  at  first  as  if  a 
condition  of  things  so  regular,  so  determinate  in  every  par- 
ticular, contained  nothing  that  had  a  peculiarity  entirely  its 
own.  The  introduction  of  a  religious  element  would  seem 
to  be  an  affair  of  no  critical  moment,  provided  the  higher 
necessities  of  men  were  satisfied  ;  we  should  in  fact  rather 
expect  that  it  would  be  introduced  in  a  peaceful  way  and  in 
accordance  with  the  moral  arrangement  of  things  already 
mentioned.  But  in  contemplating  the  Religion  of  the  Egyp- 
tians, we  are  surprised  by  the  strangest  and  most  wonderful 
phenomena,  and  perceive  that  this  calm  order  of  things, 
bound  fast  by  legislative  enactment,  is  not  like  that  of  the 
Chinese,  but  that  we  have  here  to  do  with  a  Spirit  entirely 


216  PABT   1.      THE    ORIENTAL   WOBLD. 

different—  one  full  of  stirring  and  urgent  impulses.      We 
have  here  the  African  element,  in  combination  with  Oriental 
massiveness,   transplanted  to  the   Mediterranean  Sea,  that 
grand  locale  of  the  display  of  nationalities ;  but  in  such  a 
manner,  that  here  there  is  no  connection  with  foreign  nations, 
• — this  mode  of  stimulating  intellect  appearing  superfluous  ; 
for  we  have  here  a  prodigious  urgent  striving  within  the 
nationality  itself,  and  which  within  its  own  circle  shoots  out 
into  an  objective  realization  of  itself  in  the  most  monstrous 
productions.      It  is   that   African   imprisonment   of  ideas 
combined  with  the  infinite  impulse  of  the  spirit  to  realize 
itself  objectively,  which  we  find  here.     But  Spirit  has  still, 
as  it  were,  an  iron   band  around  its  forehead  ;  so  that  it 
cannot  attain  to  the  free  consciousness  of  its  existence,  but 
produces  this  only  as  the  problem,  the  enigma  of  its  being. 
The  fundamental  conception  of  that  which  the  Egyptians 
regard   as  the  essence  of  being,  rests  on  the  determinate 
character  of  the  natural  world,  in  which  they  live ;  and  more 
particularly  on  the  determinate  physical  circle  which  the 
Wile  and  the  Sun  mark  out.     These  two  are  strictly  con- 
nected,— the  position  of  the  Sun  and  that  of  the  Nile ;  and 
to  the  Egyptian  this  is  all  in  all.     The  Nile  is  that  which 
essentially  determines  the  boundaries  of  the  country ;  be- 
yond the 'Nile-valley  begins  the  desert ;  on  the  north,  Egypt 
is  shut  in  by  the  sea,  and  on  the  south  by  torrid  heat.     The 
first   Arab   leader  that   conquered   Egypt,   writes   to    the 
Caliph  Omar :  "  Egypt  is  first  a  vast  sea  of  dust ;  then  a 
sea   of  fresh   water ;   lastly,  it  is   a  great  sea   of  flowers. 
It  never  rains  there ;  towards  the  end  of  July  dew  falls, 
and  then  the  Nile  begins  to  overflow  its  banks,  and  Egypt 
resembles  a  sea  of  islands."     (Herodotus  compares  Egypt, 
during  this  period,  with  the  islands  in  the  ^Egean.)     The 
Nile    leaves     behind    it    prodigious    multitudes   of  living 
creatures:  then  appear  moving  and  creeping  things  innu- 
merable ;   soon  after,  man  begins  to  sow  the  ground,  and 
the  harvest  is  very  abundant.     Thus  the  existence  of  the 
Egyptian  does  not  depend  on  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  or  the 
quantity  of  rain.     Por  him,  on  the  contrary,  there  exist  only 
those  perfectly  simple  conditions,  which  form  the  basis  of 
his  mode  of  life  and  its  occupations.     There  is  a  definite 
physical  cycle,  which  the  Nile  pursues,  and  which  is  con- 


SECT.   III.      PERSIA— EGYPT.  217 

nected  with  the  course  of  the  Sun;  the  latter  advances, 
reaches  its  culmination,  and  then  retrogrades.  So  also 
does  the  Nile. 

Thrs  basis  of  the  life  of  the  Egyptians  determines  more*, 
over  the  particular  tenor  of  their  religious  views.  A  con- 
troversy has  long  been  waged  respecting  the  sense  and 
meaning  of  the  Egyptian  religion.  As  early  as  the  reign  of 
Tiberius,  the  Stoic  ChaBremon,  who  had  been  in  Egypt, 
explains  it  in  a  purely  materialistic  sense.  The  New  Pla- 
tonists  take  a  directly  opposite  view,  regarding  all  as  symbols 
of  a  spiritual  meaning,  and  thus  making  this  religion  a  pure 
Idealism.  Each  of  these  representations  is  orie-sided.  Natural 
and  spiritual  powers  are  regarded  as  most  intimately  united, 
—  (the  free  spiritual  import,  however,  has  not  been  developed 
at  this  stage  of  thought), — but  in  such  a  way,  that  the  ex- 
tremes of  the  antithesis  were  united  in  the  harshest  contrast. 
We  have  spoken  of  the  Nile,  of  the  Sun,  and  of  the  vegeta- 
tion depending  upon  them.  This  limited  view  of  Nature 
gives  the  principle  of  the  religion,  and  its  subject-matter  is 
primarily  a  history.  The  Nile  and  the  Sun  constitute  the 
divinities,  conceived  under  human  forms  ;  and  the  course  of 
nature  and  the  mythological  history  is  the  same.  In  the 
winter  solstice  the  power  of  the  sun  has  reached  its  mini- 
mum, and  must  be  born  anew.  Thus  also  Osiris  appears  as 
born  ;  but  he  is  killed  by  Typhon, — his  brother  and  enemy, — - 
the  burning  wind  of  the  desert.  Isis,  the  Earth, — from  whom 
the  aid  of  the  Sun  and  of  the  Nile  has  been  withdrawn, — 
yearns  after  him  :  she  gathers  the  scattered  bones  of  Osiris, 
and  raises  her  lamentation  for  him,  and  all  Egypt  bewails  with 
her  the  death  of  Osiris,  in  a  song  which  Herodotus  cails 
Maneros.  Maneros  he  reports  to  have  been  the  only  son 
of  the  first  king  of  the  Egyptians,  and  to  have  died  prema- 
turely ;  this  song  being  also  the  Linus-Song  of  the  Greeks, 
and  the  only  song  which  the  Egyptians  have.  Here  again 
pain  is  regarded  as  something  divine,  and  the  same  honour 
is  assigned  to  it  here  as  among  the  Phoenicians.  Hermes 
then  embalms  Osiris ;  and  his  grave  is  shewn  in  various 
places.  Osiris  is  now  judge  of  the  dead,  and  lord  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Shades.  These  are  the  leading  ideas.  Osiris, 
the  Sun,  the  Nile ;  this  triplicity  of  being  is  united  in  one 
knot.  The  Sun  is  the  symbol,  in  which  Osiris  and  the  hia« 


2 13  PART   I.      THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

tory  of  that  god  are  recognized,  and  the  Nile  is  likewise  such 
a  symbol.  The  concrete  Egyptian  imagination  also  ascribes 
to  Osiris  and  Isis  the  introduction  of  agriculture,  the  inven- 
tion of  the  plough,  the  hoe,  &c. ;  for  Osiris  gives  not  only 
the  useful  itself —  the  fertility  of  the  earth — but,  moreover, 
the  means  of  making  use  of  it.  He  also  gives  men  laws,  a 
civil  order  and  a  religious  ritual ;  he  thus  places  in  men's 
hands  the  means  of  labour,  and  secures  its  result.  Osiris  is 
also  the  symbol  of  the  seed  which  is  placed  in  the  earth,  anc 
then  springs  up, — as  also  of  the  course  of  life.  Thus  wt 
find  this  heterogeneous  duality — the  phenomena  of  Nature 
and  the  Spiritual — woven  together  into  one  knot. 

The  parallelism  of  the  course  of  human  life  with  the  Nile, 
the  Sun  and  Osiris,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  mere  allegory, — 
as  if  the  principle  of  birth,  of  increase  in  strength,  of  the  cul- 
mination of  vigour  and  fertility,  of  decline  and  weakness,  ex- 
hibited itself  in  these  different  phenomena,  in  an  equal  or 
similar  way  ;  but  in  this  variety  imagination  conceived  only 
one  subject,  one  vitality.  This  unity  is,  however,  quite  ab- 
stract :  the  heterogeneous  element  shews  itself  therein  as 
pressing  and  urging,  and  in  a  confusion  which  sharply  con- 
trasts with  Greek  perspicuity.  Osiris  represents  the  Nile 
and  the  Sun :  Sun  and  Nile  are,  on  the  other  hand,  symbols 
of  human  life — each  one  is  signification  and  symbol  at  the 
same  time ;  the  symbol  is  changed  into  signification,  and 
this  latter  becomes  symbol  of  that  symbol,  which  itself  then 
becomes  signification.  IS  one  of  these  phases  of  existence  is 
a  Type  without  being  at  the  same  time  a  Signification ;  each 
is  both  ;  the  one  is  explained  by  the  other.  Thus  there 
arises  one  pregnant  conception,  composed  of  many  concep- 
tions, in  which  each  fundamental  nodus  retains  its  indi- 
viduality, so  that  they  are  not  resolved  into  a  general 
idea.  The  general  idea — the  thought  itself,  which  forms 
the  bond  of  analogy —  does  not,  present  itself  to  the  con- 
sciousness purely  and  freely  as  such,  but  remains  concealed 
as  an  internal  connection.  We  have  a  consolidated  indi- 
viduality, combining  various  phenomenal  aspects ;  and  which 
on  the  one  hand  is  fanciful,  on  account  of  the  combination 
of  apparently  disparate  material,  but  on  the  other  hand 
internally  and  essentially  connected,  because  these  various 
appearances  are  a  particular  prosaic  matter  of  fact. 


SECT.    III.      PEHSIA — EGYPT.  219 

Besides  this  fundamental  conception,  we  observe  several 
special  divinities,  of  whom  Herodotus  reckons  three  classes. 
Of  the  first  he  mentions  eight  gods  ;  of  the  second  twelve ; 
of  the  third  an  indefinite  number,  who  occupy  the  position 
towards  the  unity  of  Osiris  of  specific  manifestations.  ]n 
the  first  class,  Fire  and  its  use  appears  as  Phtha,  also  as 
Knef,  who  is  besides  represented  as  the  Good  Genius  ;  but 
the  Nile  itself  is  held  to  be  that  Genius,  and  thus  abstrac- 
tions are  changed  into  concrete  conceptions.  Ammon  is 
regarded  as  a  great  divinity,  with  whom  is  associated  the 
determination  of  the  equinox :  it  is  he,  moreover,  who  gives 
oracles.  But  Osiris  is  similarly  represented  as  the  founder 
of  oracular  manifestations.  So  the  Procreative  Power, 
banished  by  Osiris,  is  represented  as  a  particular  divinity. 
But  Osiris  is  himself  this  Procreative  Power.  Isis  is  the 
Earth,  the  Moon,  the  receptive  fertility  of  Nature.  A.f  aa 
important  element  in  the  conception  Osiris,  Anubis  (Thoth), 
— the  Egyptian  Hermes -must  be  specially  noticed.  lu 
human  activity  and  invention,  and  in  the  economy  of  legisla- 
tion, the  Spiritual,  as  such,  is  embodied  ;  and  becomes  in  this 
form — which  is  itself  determinate  and  limited — an  object  of 
consciousness.  Here  we  have  the  Spiritual,  not  as  one 
infinite,  independent  sovereignty  over  nature,  but  as  a  par- 
ticular existence,  side  by  side  with  the  powers  of  Nature — 
characterized  also  by  intrinsic  particularity.  And  thus  the 
Egyptians  had  also  specific  divinities,  conceived  as  spiritual 
activities  and  forces ;  but  partly  intrinsically  limited, — 
partly  [so,  as]  contemplated  under  natural  symbols. 

The  Egyptian  Hermes  is  celebrated  as  exhibiting  the 
spiritual  side  of  their  theism.  According  to  Jamblichus,  the 
Egyptian  priests  immemorially  prefixed  to  all  their  inven- 
tions the  name  Hermes  :  Eratosthenes,  therefore,  called  his 
book,  which  treated  of  the  entire  science  of  Egypt — 
"  Hermes."  Anubis  is  called  the  friend  and  companion  of 
Osiris.  To  him  is  ascribed  the  invention  of  writing,  and  of 
science  generally  —  of  grammar,  astronomy,  mensuration, 
music,  and  medicine.  It  was  he  who  first  divided  the  day  into 
twelve  hours  :  he  was  moreover  the  first  lawgiver,  the  first  in- 
structor in  religiousobservancesand  objects,and  in  gymnastics 
and  orchestics  ;  and  it  was  he  who  discovered  the  olive.  But, 
notwithstanding  all  these  spiritual  attributes,  this  divinity 


220  PART   I.      THE   ORIENTAL   WOBLD. 

is  something  quite  other  than  the  God  of  Thought.  Only 
particular  human  arts  and  inventions  are  associated  with 
him.  Not  only  so  ;  but  he  entirely  falls  back  into  involve- 
ment in  existence,  and  is  degraded  under  physical  symbols. 
He  is  represented  with  a  dog's  head,  as  an  imbruted  god  •> 
and  besides  this  mask,  a  particular  natural  object  is  bound 
up  with  the  conception  of  this  divinity ;  for  he  is  at  the 
same  time  Sirius,  the  Dog-Star.  He  is  thus  as  limited  in 
respect  of  what  he  embodies,  as  sensuous  in  the  positive 
existence  ascribed  to  him.  It  may  be  incidentally  remarked, 
that  as  Ideas  and  Nature  are  not  distinguished  from  each 
other,  in  the  same  way  the  arts  and  appliances  of  human 
life  are  not  developed  and  arranged  so  as  to  form  a  rational 
circle  of  aims  and  means.  Thus  medicine, — deliberation  re- 
specting corporeal  disease  — as  also  the  whole  range  of 
deliberation  and  resolve  with  regard  to  undertakings  in  life, 
— was  subjected  to  the  most  multifarious  superstition  in  the 
way  of  reliance  on  oracles  and  magic  arts.  Astronomy  was 
also  essentially  Astrology,  and  Medicine  an  affair  of  magic, 
but  more  particularly  of  Astrology.  All  astrological  and 
sympathetic  superstition  may  be  traced  to  Egypt. 

Egyptian  Worship  is  chiefly  Zoolatry.  We  have  observed 
the  union  here  presented  between  the  Spiritual  and  the 
Natural:  the  more  advanced  and  elevated  side  of  this  con- 
ception is  the  fact  that  the  Egyptians,  while  they  observed  the 
Spiritual  as  manifested  in  the  Nile,  the  Sun,  and  the  sowing 
of  seed,  took  the  same  view  of  the  life  of  animals.  To  us 
Zoolatry  is  repulsive.  We  may  reconcile  ourselves  to  the 
adoration  of  the  material  heaven,  but  the  worship  of  brutes 
is  alien  to  us  ;  for  the  abstract  natural  element  seems  to  us 
more  generic,  and  therefore  more  worthy  of  veneration. 
Yet  it  is  certain  that  the  nations  who  worshipped  the  Sun 
and  the  Stars  by  no  means  occupy  a  higher  grade  than  those 
who  adore  brutes,  but  contrariwise  ;  for  in  the  brute  world 
the  Egyptians  contemplate  a  hidden  and  incomprehensible 
principle.  We  also,  when  we  contemplate  the  life  and 
actions  of  brutes,  are  astonished  at  their  instinct, — the  adap- 
tation of  their  movements  to  the  object  intended, — their 
restlessness,  excitability,  and  liveliness ;  for  they  are  exceed- 
ingly quick  and  discerning  in  pursuing  the  ends  of  their 
existence,  while  they  are  at  the  same  time  silent  and  shut 


82  CT.    III.      PERSIA — EGYPT.  22V 

tiD  within  themselves.  "We  cannot  make  out  what  it  is  that 
"  possesses  "  these  creatures,  and  cannot  rely  on  them.  A. 
black  tom-cat,  with  its  glowing  eyes  and  its  now  gliding, 
now  quick  and  darting  movement,  has  been  deemed  the 
presence  of  a  malignant  being — a  mysterious  reserved 
spectre :  the  dog,  the  canary-bird,  on  the  contrary,  appear 
friendly  and  sympathizing.  The  lower  animals  are  the  truly 
Incomprehensible.  A  man  cannot  by  imagination  or  concep- 
tion errter  into  the  nature  of  a  dog,  whatever  resemblance  he 
himself  might  have  to  it ;  it  remains  something  altogether 
alien  to  him.  It  is  in  two  departments  that  the  so-called , 
Incomprehensible  meets  us — in  living  Nature  and  in  Spirit. 
But  in  very  deed  it  is  only  in  Nature  that  we  have  to  en- 
counter the  Incomprehensible ;  for  the  being  manifest  to 
itself  is  the  essence,  [supplies  the  very  definition  of  ]  Spirit : 
Spirit  understands  and  comprehends  Spirit.  The  obtuse 
self-consciousness  of  the  Egyptians,  therefore,  to  which  the 
thought  of  human  freedom  is  not  yet  revealed,  worships  the 
soul  as  still  shut  up  within  and  dulled  by  the  physical  or- 
ganization, and  sympathizes  with  brute  life.  We  find  a 
veneration  of  mere  vitality  among  other  nations  also  :  some- 
times expressly,  as  among  the  Hindoos  and  all  the  Mon- 
golians ;  sometimes  in  mere  traces,  as  among  the  Jews: 
"  Thou  shalt  not  eat  the  blood  of  animals,  for  in  it  is  the  life 
of  the  animal."  The  Greeks  and  Eomans  also  regarded 
birds  as  specially  intelligent,  believing  that  what  in  the 
human  spirit  was  not  revealed — the  Incomprehensible  and 
Higher — was  to  be  found  in  them.  But  among  the  Egyptians 
this  worship  of  beasts  was  carried  to  excess  under  the  forms 
of  a  most  stupid  and  non-human  superstition.  The  worship 
of  brutes  was  among  them  a  matter  of  particular  and  de- 
tailed arrangement :  each  district  had  a  brute  deity  of  its  own 
— a  cat,  an  ibis,  a  crocodile,  &c.  Great  establishments  were" 
provided  for  them  ;  beautiful  mates  were  assigned  them ;  and, 
like  human  beings,  they  were  embalmed  after  death.  The  bulls 
were  buried,  but  with  their  horns  protruding  above  their 
graves  ,  the  bulls  embodying  Apis  had  splendid  monuments, 
and  some  of  the  pyramids  must  be  looked  upon  as  such.  In 
one  of  those  that  have  been  opened,  there  was  found  in  the 
most  central  apartment  a  beautiful  alabaster  coffin  ;  and  on 
closer  examination  it  was  found  that  the  bones  enclosed  were 
those  of  the  ox.  This  reverence  for  brutes  was  often  carried 


222  PART    I.       THE    ORIENTAL    UORLD. 

to  the  most  absurd  excess  of  severity.  If  a  man  killed  one 
designedly,  he  was  punished  with  death  ;  but  even  the  unde- 
signed killing  of  some  animals  might  entail  death.  It  is 
related,  that  once  when  a  Roraan  in  Alexandria  killed  a  cat, 
an  insurrection  ensued,  in  which  the  Egyptians  murdered 
the  aggressor.  They  would  let  human  beings  perish  by 
famine,  rather  than  allow  the  sacred  animals  to  be  killed,  or 
the  provision  made  for  them  trenched  upon.  Still  more 
than  mere  vitality,  the  universal  vis  vitce  of  productive  nature 
was  venerated  in  a  Phallus-worship ;  which  the  Greeks  also 
adopted  into  the  rites  paid  by  them  to  Dionysus.  With 
this  worship  the  greatest  excesses  were  connected. 

The  brute  form  is,  on  the  other  hand,  turned  into  a 
symbol :  it  is  also  partly  degraded  to  a  mere  hieroglyphical 
sign.  I  refer  here  to  the  innumerable  figures  on  the  Egyp- 
tian monuments,  of  sparrow-hawks  or  falcons,  dung-beetles, 
scarabsei,  &c.  It  is  not  known  what  ideas  such  figures 
symbolized,  and  we  can  scarcely  think  that  a  satisfactory 
view  of  this  very  obscure  subject  is  attainable.  The  dung- 
beetle  is  said  to  be  the  symbol  of  generation, — of  the  sun  and 
its  course  ;  the  Ibis,  that  of  the  Nile's  overflowing ;  birds  of 
the  hawk  tribe,  of  prophecy — of  the  year— of  pity.  The 
strangeness  of  these  combinations  results  from  the  circum- 
stance that  we  have  not,  as  in  our  idea  of  poetical  invention, 
a  general  conception  embodied  in  an  image  ;  but,  conversely, 
we  begin  with  a  concept  in  the  sphere  of  sense,  and  imagina- 
tion conducts  us  into  the  same  sphere  again.  But  we  observe 
the  conception  liberating  itself  from  the  direct  animal  form, 
and  the  continued  contemplation  of  it ;  and  that  which  was 
only  surmised  and  aimed  at  in  that  form,  advancing  to  com- 
prehensibility  and  conceivableuess.  The  hidden  meaning  — 
the  Spiritual — emerges  as  a  human  face  from  the  brute. 
The  multiform  sphinxes,  with  lions'  bodies  and  virgins' 
heads,  —  or  as  male  sphinxes  (a.vlp6a<fn.yyEo)  with  beards, — are 
evidence  supporting  the  view,  that  the  meaning  of  the  Spiritual 
is  the  problem  which  the  Egyptians  proposed  to  themselves ; 
as  the  enigma  generally  is  not  the  utterance  o(  something 
unknown,  but  is  the  challenge  to  discover  it, — implying  a  wish 
to  be  revealed.  But  conversely,  the  human  form  is  also  dis- 
figured by  a  brute  face,  with  the  view  of  giving  it  a  specific 
and  definite  expression.  The  refined  art  of  Greece  is  able 


SECT.   III.      PERSIA — EGYPT.  223 

to  attain  a  specific  expression  through  the  spiritual  character 
given  to  an  image  in  the  form  of  beauty,  and  does  not  need 
to  deform  the  human  face  in  order  to  be  understood.  The 
Egyptians  appended  an  explanation  to  the  human  forms, 
even  of  the  gods,  by  means  of  heads  and  masks  of  brutes ; 
.Anubis  e.g.  has  a  dog's  head,  Isis,  a  lion's  head  with  bull's 
horns,  &c.  The  priests,  also,  in  performing  their  functions, 
are  masked  as  falcons,  jackals,  bulls,  &c. ;  in  the  same  way 
the  surgeon,  who  has  taken  out  the  bowels  of  the  dead  (re- 
presented as  fleeing,  for  he  has  laid  sacrilegious  hands  on  an 
object  once  hallowed  by  life)  ;  so  also  the  embalmers  and 
the  scribes.  The  sparrow-hawk,  with  a  human  head  and 
outspread  wings,  denotes  the  soul  flying  through  material 
space,  in  order  to  animate  a  new  body.  The  Egyptian 
imagination  also  created  new  forms  —  combinations  of  differ- 
ent animals :  serpents  with  bulls'  and  rams'  heads,  bodies  of 
lions  with  rams'  heads,  &c. 

We  thus  see  Egypt  intellectually  confined  by  a  narrow, 
involved,  close  view  of  Nature,  but  breaking  through  this  ; 
impelling  it  to  self-contradiction,  and  proposing  to  itself  the 
problem  which  that  contradiction  implies.  The  [Egyptian] 
principle  does  not  remain  satisfied  with  its  primary  condi- 
tions, but  points  to  that  other  meaning  and  spirit  which  liea 
concealed  beneath  the  surface. 

In  the  view  just  given,  we  saw  the  Egyptian  Spirit  work- 
ing itself  free  from  natural  forms.  This  urging,  powerful 
Spirit,  however,  was  not  able  to  rest  in  the  subjective  con- 
ception of  that  view  of  things  which  we  have  now  been  con- 
sidering, but  was  impelled  to  present  it  to  external  conscious- 
ness and  outward  vision  by  means  o'f  Art. — For  the  religion 
of  the  Eternal  One — the  Formless,  — Art  is  not  only  unsatis- 
fying, but — since  its  object  essentially  and  exclusively  occupies 
the  thought — something  sinful.  But  Spirit,  occupied  with 
the  contemplation  of  particular  natural  forms, — being  at 
the  same  time  a  striving  and  plastic  Spirit, — changes  the 
direct,  natural  view,  e.g.,  of  the  Nile,  the  Sun,  &c.,  to 
images,  in  which  Spirit  has  a  share.  It  is,  as  we  have  seen, 
symbolizing  Spirit ;  and  as  such,  it  endeavours  to  master 
these  symbolizations,  and  to  present  them  clearly  before  the 
mind.  The  more  enigmatical  and  obscure  it  is  to  itself,  so 
much  the  more  does  it  feel  the  impulse  to  labour  to  deliver 


224  PART    I.      THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

itself  from  its  imprisonment,  and  to  gain  a  clear  objective 
view  of  itself. 

It  is  the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit, 
that  it  stands  before  us  as  this  mighty  task-master.  It  is 
not  splendour,  amusement,  pleasure,  or  the  like  that  it 
seeks.  The  force  which  urges  it  is  the  impulse  of  self-com- 
prehension ;  and  it  has  no  other  material  or  ground  to  work 
on,  in  order  to  teach  itself  what  it  is — to  realize  itself  for 
itself — than  this  working  out  its  thoughts  in  stone ;  and 
what  it  engraves  on  the  stone  are  its  enigmas,— these  hiero- 
glyphs. They  are  of  two  kinds — hieroglyphs  proper,  designed 
rather  to  express  language,  and  having  reference  to  subjec- 
tive conception  ;  and  a  class  of  hieroglyphs  of  a  different  kind, 
viz.  those  enormous  masses  of  architecture  and  sculpture,  with 
which  Egypt  is  covered.  While  among  other  nations  history 
consists  of  a  series  of  events, — as,  e.y.,  that  of  the  Romans, 
who  century  after  century,  lived  only  with  a  view  to  conquest, 
and  accomplished  the  subjugation  of  the  world, — the  Egyp- 
tians raised  an  empire  equally  mighty — of  achievements 
in  works  of  art,  whose  ruins  prove  their  indestructibility, 
and  which  are  greater  and  more  worthy  of  astonishment 
than  all  other  works  of  ancient  or  modern  time. 

Of  these  works  I  will  mention  no  others  than  those 
devoted  to  the  dead,  and  which  especially  attract  our  atten- 
tion. These  are,  the  enormous  excavations  in  the  hills  along 
the  Nile  at  Thebes,  whose  passages  and  chambers  are  entirely 
filled  with  mummies, — subterranean  abodes  as  large  as  the 
largest  mining  works  of  our  time :  next,  the  great  field  of 
the  dead  in  the  plain  of  Sais,  with  its  walls  and  vaults  : 
thirdly,  those  "Wonders  of  the  World,  the  Pyramids,  whose 
destination,  though  stated  long  ago  by  Herodotus  and 
Diodorus,  has  been  only  recently  expressly  confirmed, — to 
the  effect,  viz.,  that  these  prodigious  crystals,  with  their 
geometrical  regularity,  contain  dead  bodies :  and  lastly,  that 
most  astonishing  work,  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings,  of  which  one 
has  been  opened  by  Belzoni  in  modern  times. 

It  is  of  essential  moment  to  observe,  what  importance 
this  realm  of  the  dead  had  for  the  Egyptian:  we  may  thence 
gather  what  idea  he  had  of  man.  Eor  in  the  Dead,  man  con- 
ceives of  man  as  stripped  of  all  adventitious  wrappages — as 
reduced  to  hia  essential  nature,  But  that  which  a  people 


SECT.    III.      PEHSIA — EGYPT.  225 

regards  as  man  in  his  essential  characteristics,   that  it   it, 
itself — such  is  its  character. 

In  the  first  place,  we  must  here  cite  the  remarkable  fact 
which  Herodotus  tells  us,  viz.,  that  the  Egyptians  were  the 
first  to  express  the  thought  that  the  soul  of  man  is  immortal. 
But  this  proposition  that  the  soul  is  immortal,  is  intended 
to  mean  that  it  is  something  other  than  Nature— that  Spirit 
is  inherently  independent.  The  ne  plus  ultra  of  blessedness 
among  the  Hindoos,  was  the  passing  over  into  abstract 
unity, — into  Nothingness.  On  the  other  hand,  subjectivity, 
when  free,  is  inherently  infinite :  the  Kingdom  of  free 
Spirit  is  therefore  the  Kingdom  of  the  Invisible, — such  as 
Hades  was  conceived  by  the  Greeks.  This  presents  itself  to 
men  first  as  the  empire  of  death,— to  the  Egyptians  as  the 
Realm  of  the  Dead. 

The  idea  that  Spirit  is  immortal,  involves  this, — that 
the  human  individual  inherently  possesses  infinite  value. 
The  merely  Natural  appears  limited,  — absolutely  dependent 
upon  something  other  than  itself, — and  has  its  existence  in 
that  other ;  but  Immortality  involves  the  inherent  infinitude 
of  Spirit.  This  idea  is  first  found  among  the  Egyptians. 
But  it  must  be  added,  that  the  soul  was  known  to  the 
Egyptians  previously  only  as  an  atom — that  is,  as  something 
concrete  and  particular.  For  with  that  view  is  immediately 
connected  the  notion  of  Metempsychosis — the  idea  that  the 
soul  of  man  may  also  become  the  tenant  of  the  body  of  a 
brute.  Aristotle  too  speaks  of  this  idea,  and  despatches  it 
in  few  words.  Every  subject,  he  says,  has  its  particular 
organs,  for  its  peculiar  mode  of  action :  so  the  smith,  the 
carpenter,  each  for  his  own  craft.  In  like  manner  the 
human  soul  has  its  peculiar  organs,  and  the  body  of  a  brute 
cannot  be  its  domicile.  Pythagoras  adopted  the  doctrine  of 
Metempsychosis  ;  but  it  could  not  find  much  support  among 
the  Greeks,  who  held  rather  to  the  concrete.  The  Hindoos 
have  also  an  indistinct  conception  of  this  doctrine,  inasmuch 
as  with  them  the  final  attainment  is  absorption  in  the  uni- 
versal Substance.  But  with  the  Egyptians  the  Soul, — the 
Spirit, — is,  at  any  rate,  an  affirmative  being,  although  only 
abstractedly  affirmative.  The  period  occupied  by  the  soul's 
migrations  was  fixed  at  three  thousand  years ;  they  affirmed, 
however,  that  a  soul  which  had  remained  faithful  to  Osiris, 

u 


226  PAET    I.      THE    ORIENTAL   WORLD. 

was   not    subject   to   such   a   degradation, — for   such  they 
deem  it. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  Egyptians  embalmed  their  dead  ; 
and  thus  imparted  such  a  degree  of  permanence,  that  they 
have  been  preserved  even  to  the  present  day,  and  may  con- 
tinue as  they  are,  for  many  centuries  to  come.  This  indeed 
seems  inconsistent  with  their  idea  of  immortality ;  for  if  the 
soul  has  an  independent  existence,  the  permanence  of  the 
body  seems  a  matter  of  indifference.  But  on  the  other  hand 
it  may  be  said,  that  if  the  soul  is  recognized  as  a  permanent 
existence,  honour  should  be  shewn  to  the  body,  as  its  former 
abode.  The  Parsees  lay  the  bodies  of  the  dead  in  exposed 
places  to  be  devoured  by  birds ;  but  among  them  the  soul  is 
regarded  as  passing  forth  into  universal  existence.  Where 
the  soul  is  supposed  to  enjoy  continued  existence,  the  body 
must  also  be  considered  to  have  some  kind  of  connection 
with  this  continuance.  Among  us,  indeed,  the  doctrine  of 
the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  assumes  the  higher  form  :  Spirit 
is  in  and  for  itself  eternal ;  its  destiny  is  eternal  blessedness. 
— The  Egyptians  made  their  dead  into  mummies ;  and  did 
not  occupy  themselves  further  with  them  ;  no  honour  was 
paid  them  beyond  this.  Herodotus  relates  of  the  Egyptians, 
that  when  any  person  died,  the  women  went  about  loudly 
lamenting ;  but  the  idea  of  Immortality  is  not  regarded  in 
the  light  of  a  consolation,  as  among  us. 

From  what  was  said  above,  respecting  the  works  for  the 
Dead,  it  is  evident  that  the  Egyptians,  and  especially  their 
kings,  made  it  the  business  of  their  life  to  build  their 
sepulchre,  and  to  give  their  bodies  a  permanent  abode.  It 
is  remarkable  that  what  had  been  needed  for  the  business  of 
life,  was  buried  with  the  dead.  Thus  the  craftsman  had  hia 
tools :  designs  on  the  coffin  shew  the  occupation  to  which 
the  deceased  had  devoted  himself ;  so  that  we  are  able  to 
become  acquainted  with  him  in  all  the  minuti®  of  his  con- 
dition and  employment.  Many  mummies  have  been  found 
with  a  roll  of  papyrus  under  their  arm,  and  this  was  formerly 
regarded  as  a  remarkable  treasure.  But  these  rolls  contain 
only  various  representations  of  the  pursuits  of  life, — together 
with  writings  in  the  Demotic  character.  They  have  been 
deciphered,  and  the  discovery  has  been  made,  that  they  are 
a]J  deeds  of  purchase,  relating  to  pieces  of  ground  and  the 


SECT.   III.      PEB8IA— EGYPT.  227 

like  ;  in  which  everything  is  most  minutely  recorded — even 
the  duties  that  had  to  be  paid  to  the  royal  chancery  on  the 
occasion.  What,  therefore,  a  person  bought  during  his  life,  is 
made  to  accompany  him — in  the  shape  of  a  legal  document — 
in  death.  In  this  monumental  way  we  are  made  acquainted 
with  the  private  life  of  the  Egyptians,  as  with  that  of  the 
Eomans  through  the  ruins  of  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum. 

After  the  death  of  an  Egyptian,  judgment  was  passed  upon 
him. — One  of  the  principal  representations  on  the  sarco- 
phagi is  this  judicial  process  in  the  realm  of  the  dead. 
Osiris— with  Isis  behind  him — appears,  holding  a  balance, 
while  before  him  stands  the  soul  of  the  deceased.  But 
judgment  was  passed  on  the  dead  by  the  living  themselves  ; 
and  that  not  merely  in  the  case  of  private  persons,  but  even 
of  kings.  The  tomb  of  a  certain  king  has  been  discovered 
• — very  large,  and  elaborate  in  its  architecture — in  whose 
hieroglyphs  the  name  of  the  principal  person  is  obliterated, 
while  in  the  bas-reliefs  and  pictorial  designs  the  chief  figure  is 
erased.  This  has  been  explained  to  import  that  the  honour 
of  being  thus  immortalized,  was  refused  this  king  by  the 
sentence  of  the  Court  of  the  Dead. 

If  Death  thus  haunted  the  minds  of  the  Egyptians  during 
life,  it  might  be  supposed  that  their  disposition  was  melan- 
choly. But  the  thought  of  death  by  no  means  occasioned 
depression.  At  banquets  they  had  representations  of  the 
dead,  (as  Herodotus  relates,)  with  the  admonition  :  "  Eat  and 
drink, — such  a  one  wilt  thou  become,  when  thou  art  dead." 
Death  was  thus  to  them  rather  a  call  to  enjoy  Life.  Osiris 
himself  dies,  and  goes  down  into  the  realm  of  death,  accord- 
ing to  the  above-mentioned  Egyptian  myth.  In  many 
places  in  Egypt,  the  sacred  grave  of  Osiris  was  exhibited. 
But  he  was  also  represented  as  president  of  the  Kingdom  of 
the  Invisible  Sphere,  and  as  judge  of  the  dead  in  it ;  later 
on,  Sera  pis  exercised  this  function  in  his  place.  Of  Anubis- 
Hermes  the  myth  says,  that  he  embalmed  the  body  of  Osiris : 
this  Anubis  sustained  also  the  office  of  leader  of  the  souls 
of  the  dead;  and  in  the  pictorial  representations  he  stands, 
with  a  writing  tablet  in  his  hand,  by  the  side  of  Osiris.  The 
reception  of  the  dead  into  the  Kingdom  of  Osiris  had  also  a 
profounder  import,  viz.,  that  the  individual  was  united  with 
Osiris.  On  the  lids  of  the  sarcophagi,  therefore,  the  defunct 


228  PJLBT   I.      THE    ORIEN'IAL   WOBLD. 

is  represented  as  having  himself  become  Osiris  ;  and  in  deci- 
phering the  hieroglyphs,  the  idea  has  been  suggested  that 
the  kings  are  called  gods.  The  human  and  the  divine  are 
thus  exhibited  as  united. 

If,  in  conclusion,  we  combine  what  has  been  said  here  of 
the  peculiarities  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit  in  all  its  aspects,  its 
pervading  principle  is  found  to  be,  that  the  two  elements  of 
reality — Spirit  sunk  in  Nature,  and  the  impulse  to  liberate  it 
— are  here  held  together  inharmoniou?ly  as  contending  ele- 
ments. We  behold  the  antithesis  of  Nature  and  Spirit, — 
not  the  primary  Immediate  Unity  [as  in  the  less  advanced 
nations],  nor  the  Concrete  Unity,  where  Nature  is  posited 
only  as  a  basis  for  the  manifestation  of  Spirit  [as  in  the 
more  advanced] ;  in  contrast  with  the  first  and  second  of 
these  Unities,  the  Egyptian  Unity — combining  contra- 
dictory elements — occupies  a  middle  place.  The  two  Rides 
of  this  unity  are  held  in  abstract  independence  of  each 
other,  and  their  veritable  union  presented  only  as  a  pro- 
blem. We  have,  therefore,  on  the  one  side,  prodigious  con- 
fusion and  limitation  to  the  particular ;  barbarous  sensuality 
with  African  hardness,  Zoolatry,  and  sensual  enjoyment. 
It  is  stated  that,  in  a  public  market-place,  sodomy  was 
committed  by  a  woman  with  a  goat.  Juvenal  relates,  that 
human  flesh  was  eaten  and  human  blood  drunk  out  of 
revenge.  The  other  side  is  the  struggle  of  Spirit  for  libera- 
tion,— fancy  displayed  in  the  forms  created  by  art,  together 
with  the  abstract  understanding  shewn  in  the  mechanical 
labours  connected  with  their  production.  The  same  intelli- 
gence— the  powerof  altering  the  form  of  individual  existences, 
and  that  steadfast  thoughtt'ulness  which  can  rise  above  mere 
phenomena — shews  itself  in  their  police  and  the  mechanism 
of  the  State,  in  agricultural  economy,  &c. ;  and  the  contrast 
to  this  is  the  severity  with  which  their  customs  bind  them, 
and  the  superstition  to  which  humanity  among  them  is 
inexorably  subject.  With  a  clear  understanding  of  the 
present,  is  connected  the  highest  degree  of  impulsiveness, 
daring  and  turbulence.  These  features  are  combined  in  the 
stories  which  Herodotus  relates  to  us  of  the  Egyptians. 
They  much  resemble  the  tales  of  the  Thousand  and  One 
N  ights ;  and  although  these  have  Bagdad  as  the  locality  of 
their  narration,  their  origin  is  no  more  limited  to  this  luxu- 
rious court,  thar.  to  the  Arabian  people,  but  must  bo  partly 


SECT.    III.      TRANSITION    TO    THE    GREEK  WORLD.      220 

traced  to  Egypt, — as  Von  Hammer  also  thinks.  The  Arabian 
world  is  quite  other  than  the  fanciful  and  enchanted  region 
there  described ;  it  has  much  more  simple  passions  and 
interests.  Love,  Martial  Daring,  the  Horse,  the  Sword,  are 
the  darling  subjects  of  the  poetry  peculiar  to  the  Arabians. 


TRANSITION    TO   THE    GREEK    WORLD. 

The  Egyptian  Spirit  has  shewn  itself  to  us  as  in  all 
respects  shut  up  within  the  limits  of  particular  conceptions, 
and,  as  it  were,  imbruted  in  them  ;  but  likewise  stirring 
itself  within  these  limits, — passing  restlessly  from  one  par- 
ticular form  into  another.  This  Spirit  never  rises  to  the 
Universal  and  Higher,  for  it  seems  to  be  blind  to  that ;  nor 
does  it  ever  withdraw  into  itself:  yet  it  symbolizes  freely 
and  boldly  with  particular  existence,  and  has  already  mas- 
tered it.  All  that  is  now  required  is  to  posit  that  particular 
existence— which  contains  the  germ  of  ideality— as  ideal, 
and  to  comprehend  Universality  itself,  which  is  already  poten- 
tially liberated  from  the  particulars  involving  it.  *  It  is  the 
free,  joyful  Spirit  of  Greece  that  accomplishes  this,  and 
makes  this  its  starting-point.  An  Egyptian  priest  is  re- 
ported to  have  said,  that  the  Greeks  remain  eternally  children. 
We  may  say,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  Egyptians  are  vigor- 
ous boys,  eager  for  self-comprehension,  who  require  nothing 
but  clear  understanding  of  themselves  in  an  ideal  form,  in 
order  to  become  Young  Men.  In  the  Oriental  Spirit  there 
remains  as  a  basis  the  massive  substantiality  of  Spirit  im- 
mersed in  Nature.  To  the  Egyptian  Spirit  it  has  become 
impossible — though  it  is  still  involved  in  infinite  embarrass- 
ment— to  remain  contented  with  that.  The  rugged  African 
nature  disintegrated  that  primitive  Unity,  and  lighted  upon 
the  problem  whose  solution  is  Free  Spirit. 

That  the  Spirit  of  the  Egyptians  presented  itself  to  their 
consciousness  in  the  form  of  a  problem,  is  evident  from  the 
celebrated  inscription  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  Goddess  Neith 

*  Abstractions  were  to  take  the  place  of  analogies.  The  power  to  con- 
nect particular  conceptions  as  analogical,  does  but  just  fall  short  oi  t he 
Ability  to  comprehend  the  general  idea  ithich  links  them.— TB. 


230  PART    II.      THE    OHIENTAL   WORLD, 

at  Sais  :  "  /  am  that  which  is,  that  wldch  was,  and  that  which 
will  be  :  no  one  has  lifted  my  veil."     This  inscription  indi- 
cates the  principle  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit  j  though  the  opinion 
has   often  been  entertained,  that  its  purport  applies  to  all 
times.     Proclus  supplies  the  addition  :  "  The  fruit  which  1 
have  produced  is  Helios."     That  which  is  clear  to  itself  is, 
therefore,  the  result  of,  and  the  solution  of,  the  problem  in 
question.     This  lucidity  is  Spirit — the  Son  of  Neith  the  con- 
cealed night-loving  divinity.     In  the  Egyptian  Neith,  Truth 
is  still  a  problem.     The  Greek  Apollo-  is  its  solution ;  hia 
utterance  is  :  "  Man,  know  thyself.''1     In  this  dictum  is  not 
intended  a  self-recognition  that  regards  the  specialities  of 
one's  own  weaknesses  and  defects  :  it  is  not  the  individual  that 
is  admonished  to  become  acquainted  with  his  idiosyncrasy, 
but   humanity  in  general  is  summoned  to  self-knowledge. 
This  mandate  was  given  for  the  Greeks,  and  in  the  Greek 
Spirit  humanity  exhibits  itself  in  its  clear  and  developed 
condition.     Wonderfully,  then,  must  the  Greek  legend  sur- 
prise us,  which  relates,  that  the  Sphinx — the  great  Egyptian 
symbol — appeared  in  Thebes,  uttering  the  words  :  "  What  is 
that  which  in  the  morning  goes  on  four  legs,  at  mid -day  on 
two,  and  in  the  evening  on  three?"     (Edipus,  giving  the 
solution,  Man,  precipitated  the  Sphinx  from  the  rock.     The 
solution   and   liberation  of  that   Oriental  Spirit,  which  in 
Egypt  had  advanced  so  far  as  to  propose  the  problem,  is 
certainly  this:  that  the  Inner  Being  [the  Essence]  of  Nature 
is  Thought,  which  has  its  existence  only  in  the  human  con- 
sciousness. But  that  time-honoured  antique  solution  given  by 
(Edipus — who  thus  shews  himself  possessed  of  knowledge—  is 
connected  with  a  dire  ignorance  of  the  character  of  his  own 
actions.     The  rise  of  spiritual  illumination  in  the  old  royal 
house  is  disparaged  by  connection  with  abominations,  the  re- 
sult of  ignorance ;  and  that  primeval  royalty  must — in  order 
to   attain   true  knowledge   and    moral    clearness — first  be 
brought   into   shapely  form,  and  be  harmonized  with   the 
Spirit  of  the  Beautiful,  by  civil  laws  and  political  freedom. 

The  inward  or  ideal  transition,  from  Egypt  to  Greece  is 
as  just  exhibited.  But  Egypt  became  a  province  of  the 
great  Persian  kingdom,  and  the  historical  transition  takes 
place  when  the  Persian  world  comes  in  contact  with  the 
Greek.  Here,  for  the  first  time,  an  historical  transition 


SECT.    III.      TRANSITION    TO    THE    GREEK.  WOULD.       231 

ittteetfc  Us,  viz.  in  the  fall  of  an  empire.  China  and  India, 
as  already  mentioned,  have  remained, — Persia  has  not.  The 
transition  to  Greece  is,  indeed,  internal ;  but  here  it  shews 
itself  also  externally,  as  a  transmission  of  sovereignty — an 
occurrence  which  from  this  time  forward  is  ever  and  anon 
repeated.  For  the  Greeks  surrender  the  sceptre  of  dominion 
and  of  civilization  to  the  Romans,  and  the  Romans  are 
subdued  by  the  Germans.  If  we  examine  this  fact  of  tran- 
sition more  closely,  the  question  suggests  itself— for  ex- 
ample, in  this  first  case  of  the  kind,  viz.  Persia — why  it  sank, 
while  China  and  India  remain.  In  the  first  place  we  must  here 
banish  from  our  minds  the  prejudice  in  favour  of  duration, 
as  if  it  had  any  advantage  as  compared  with  transience  :  the 
imperishable  mountains  are  not  superior  to  the  quickly  dis- 
mantled rose  exhaling  its  life  in  fragrance.  In  Persia  begins 
the  principle  of  Free  Spirit  as  contrasted  with  imprison- 
ment in  Nature  ;  mere  natural  existence,  therefore,  loses 
its  bloom,  and  fades  away.  The  principle  of  separation  from 
Nature  is  found  in  the  Persian  Empire,  which,  therefore, 
occupies  a  higher  grade  than  those  worlds  immersed  in  the 
Natural.  The  necessity  of  advance  has  been  thereby  pro- 
claimed. Spirit  has  disclosed  its  existence,  and  must  com- 
plete its  development.  It  is  only  when  dead  that  the 
Chinese  is  held  in  reverence.  The  Hindoo  kills  himself — 
becomes  absorbed  in  Brahm— undergoes  a  living  death  in 
the  condition  of  perfect  unconsciousness, — or  is  a  present 
god  in  virtue  of  his  birth.  Here  we  have  no  change  ;  no 
advance  is  admissible,  for  progress  is  only  possible  through 
the  recognition  of  the  independence  of  Spirit.  With  the 
"  Light "  of  the  Persians  begins  a  spiritual  view  of  things,  and 
here  Spirit  bids  adieu  to  Nature.  It  is  here,  then,  that  we 
first  find  (as  occasion  called  us  to  notice  above,)  that  the 
objective  world  remains  free, — that  the  nations  are  not  en- 
slaved, but  are  left  in  possession  of  their  wealth,  their 
political  constitution,  and  their  religion.  And,  indeed,  this 
is  the  side  on  which  Persia  itself  shews  weakness  as  com- 
pared with  Greece.  For  we  see  that  the  Persians  could 
erect  no  empire  possessing  complete  organization ;  that  they 
could  not  l  inform '  the  conquered  lands  with  their  prin- 
ciple, and  were  unable  to  make  them  into  a  harmonious 
Whole,  but  were  obliged  to  be  content  with  an  aggregate  of 


232  PART  II.   THE  GREEK  WOULD. 

the  most  diverse  individualities.  Among  these  nations  the 
Persians  secured  no  inward  recognition  of  the  legitimacy 
of  their  rule  ;  they  could  not  establish  their  legal  principles 
or  enactments,  and  in  organizing  their  dominion,  they 
only  considered  themselves,  not  the  whole  extent  of  their 
empire.  Thus,  as  Persia  did  not  constitute,  politically,  one 
Spirit,  it  appeared  weak  in  contrast  with  Greece.  It  was 
not  the  effeminacy  of  the  Persians  (although,  perhaps, 
Babylon  infused  an  enervating  element)  that  ruined  them, 
but  the  unwieldy,  unorganized  character  of  their  host,  as 
matched  against  'Greek  organization ;  i.e.,  the  superior  prin- 
ciple overcame  the  inferior.  The  abstract  principle  of  the 
Persians  displayed  its  defectiveness  as  an  unorganized,  in- 
compacted  union  of  disparate  contradictories  ;  in  which  the 
Persian  doctrine  of  Light  stood  side  by  side  with  Syrian 
voluptuousness  and  luxury,  with  the  activity  and  courage  of 
the  sea-braving  Phoenicians,  the  abstraction  of  pure  Thought 
in  the  Jewish  Keligion,  and  the  mental  unrest  of  Egypt ;— an 
aggregate  of  elements,  which  awaited  their  idealization,  and 
could  receive  it  only  in  free  Individuality.  The  Greeks  must 
be  looked  upon  as  the  people  in  whom  these  elements  inter- 
penetrated each  other  :  Spirit  became  introspective,  tri- 
umphed over  particularity,  and  thereby  emancipated  itself. 


PAET  II. 
THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

AMONG  the  Greeks  we  feel  ourselves  immediately  at 
home,  for  we  are  in  the  region  of  Spirit ;  and  though  the 
origin  of  the  nation,  as  also  its  philological  peculiarities, 
may  be  traced  farther— even  to  India — the  proper  Emergence, 
the  true  Palingenesis  of  Spirit  must  be  looked  for  in  Greece 
first.  At  an  earlier  stage  I  compared  the  Greek  world  with 
the  period  of  adolescence ;  not,  indeed,  in  that  sense,  that 
youth  bears  within  it  a  serious,  anticipative  destiny,  and 
consequently  by  the  very  conditions  of  its  culture  urges 
towards  an  ulterior  aim, — p^senting  thus  an  inherently  in- 
complete and  immature  fon*^  and  being  then  most  defective 


PART  11.   THE  GREEK  WORLD.  233 

when  it  would  deem  itself  perfect, — but  in  that  sense,  that 
youth  does  not  yet  present  the  activity  of  work, — does  not 
yet  exert  itself  for  a  definite  intelligent  aim, — but  rather 
exhibits  a  concrete  freshness  of  the  soul  s  life.  It  appears 
in  the  sensuous,  actual  world,  as  Incarnate  Spirit  and 
Spiritualized  Sense,  — in  a  Unity  which  owed  its  origin  to 
Spirit.  Greece  presents  to  us  the  cheerful  aspect  of  youth- 
ful freshness,  of  Spiritual  vitality.  It  is  here  first  that 
advancing  Spirit  makes  itself  the  content  of  its  volition  and 
its  knowledge  ;  but  in  such  a  way  that  State,  Family,  Law, 
Religion,  are  at  the  same  time  objects  aimed  at  by  indi- 
viduality, while  the  latter  is  individuality  only  in  virtue  of 
those  aims.  The  [full-grown]  man,  on  the  other  hand,  devotes 
his  life  to  labour  for  an  objective  aim  ;  which  he  pursues 
consistently,  even  ab  the  cost  of  his  individuality. 

The  highest  form  that  floated  before  Greek  imagination 
was  Achilles,  the  Son  of  the  Poet,  the  Homeric  Youth  of 
the  Trojan  War.  Homer  is  the  element  in  which  the  Greek 
world  lives,  as  man  does  in  the  air.  The  Greek  life  is  a  truly 
youthful  achievement.  Achilles,  the  ideal  youth  of  poetry, 
commenced  it  :  Alexander  the  Great,  the  ideal  youth  of 
reality,  concluded  it.  Both  appear  in  contest  with  Asia. 
Achilles,  as  the  principal  figure  in  the  national  expedition 
of  the  Greeks  against  Troy,  does  not  stand  at  its  head,  but 
is  subject  to  the  Chief  of  Chiefs  ;  he  cannot  be  made  the 
leader  without  becoming  a  fantastic  untenable  conception. 
On  the  contrary,  the  second  youth,  Alexander— the  freest 
and  finest  individuality  that  the  real  world  has  ever  pro- 
duced— advances  to  the  head  of  this  youthful  life  that  has 
now  perfected  itself,  and  accomplishes  the  revenge  against 
Asia. 

We  have,  then,  to  distinguish,  three  periods  in  Greek 
history  :  the  first,  that  of  the  growth  of  real  Individuality  ; 
the  second,  that  of  its  independence  and  prosperity  in  ex- 
ternal conquest  (through  contact  with  the  previous  World- 
historical  people)  ;  and  the  third,  the  period  of  its  decline  and 
fall,  in  its  encounter  with  the  succeeding  organ  of  World- 
History.  The  period  from  its  origin  to  its  internal  complete- 
ness, (that  which  enables  a  people  to  make  head  against  its 
predecessor)  includes  its  primary  culture.  If  the  nation  has  a 
bftflis — such  as  the  Greek  world  has  in  the  Or'.ental--a  foreign 


234  *\ST   II.      THE   GREEK  WOfcLD. 

culture  enters  as  an  element  into  its  primary  condition,  and 
it  has  a  double  culture,  one  original,  the  other  of  foreign 
suggestion.  The  uniting  of  these  two  elements  constitutes 
its  training  ;  and  the  first  period  ends  with  the  combination 
of  its  forces  to  produce  its  real  and  proper  vigour,  which 
then  turns  against  the  very  element  that  had  been  its 
basis.  The  second  period  is  that  of  victory  and  prosperity. 
But  while  the  nation  directs  its  energies  outwards,  it  be- 
comes unfaithful  to  its  principles  at  home,  and  internal 
dissension  follows  upon  the  ceasing  of  the  external  excite- 
ment. In  Art  and  Science,  too,  this  shews  itself  in  the 
separation  of  the  Ideal  from  the  Heal.  Here  is  the  point  ol 
decline.  The  third  period  is  that  of  ruin,  through  contact 
with  the  nation  that  embodies  a  higher  Spirit.  The  same 
process,  it  may  be  stated  once  for  all,  will  meet  us  in  the 
life  of  every  world-historical  people. 


SECTION  I. 
THE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  GREEK  SPIRIT. 

GREECE  is  [that  form  of]  the  Substantial  [i.e.  of  Moral  and 
Intellectual  Principle, ~]  which  is  at  the  same  time  individual. 
The  Universal  [the  Abstract],  as  such,  is  overcome  ;*  the 
submersion  in  Nature  no  longer  exists,  and  consentaneously 
the  unwieldy  character  of  geographical  relations  has  also 
vanished.  The  country  now  under  consideration  is  a  sec- 
tion of  territory  spreading  itself  in  various  forms  through 
the  sea, — a  multitude  of  islands,  and  a  continent  which 
itself  exhibits  insular  features.  The  Peloponnesus  is  con- 
nected with  the  continent  only  by  a  narrow  isthmus  :  the 
whole  of  Greece  is  indented  by  bays  in  numberless  shapes. 
The  partition  into  small  divisions  of  territory  is  the  universal 
characteristic,  while  at  the  same  time,  the  relationship  and 
connection  between  them  is  facilitated  by  the  sea.  "We  find 
here  mountains,  plains,  valleys,  and  streams  of  limited  ex- 
tent :  no  great  river,  no  absolute  Valley -Plain  presents  it- 

*  That  is,  blind  obedience  to  moral  requirements, — to  principle  ab- 
stracted from  personal  conviction  or  inclination,  as  among  the  Chinese.— 
TH. 


SECT.   Tv      THE    ELEMENTS    OP    THE    6BEEK  SPIBIT.     235 

self;  but  the  ground  is  diversified  by  mountains  and  rivera 
m  such  a  way  as  to  allow  no  prominence  to  a  single  massive 
feature.  We  see  no  such  display  of  physical  grandeur  as  is 
exhibited  in  the  East, — no  stream  such  as  the  Granges,  the 
Indus,  &c.,  on  whose  plains  a  race  delivered  over  to  mono- 
tony is  stimulated  to  no  change,  because  its  horizon  always 
exhibits  one  unvarying  form.  On  the  contrary,  that  divided 
and  multiform  character  everywhere  prevails  which  perfectly 
corresponds  with  the  varied  life  of  Greek  races  and  the 
versatility  of  the  Greek  Spirit. 

This  is  the  elementary  character  of  the  Spirit  of  the 
Greeks,  implying  the  origination  of  their  culture  from  inde- 
pendent individualities  ; — a  condition  in  which  individuals 
take  their  own  ground,  and  are  not,  from  the  very  be- 
ginning, patriarchally  united  by  a  bond  of  Nature,  but 
realize  a  union  through  some  other  medium, — through  Law 
and  Custom  having  the  sanction  of  Spirit.  For  beyond  all 
other  nations  that  of  Greece  attained  its  form  by  growth. 
At  the  origin  of  their  national  unity,  separation  as  a  genem 
feature— inherent  distinctness  of  character — is  the  chief  point 
that  has  to  be  considered.  The  first  phase  in  the  subjuga- 
tion of  this,  constitutes  the  primary  period  of  Greek  culture ; 
and  only  through  such  distinctness  of  character,  and  such  a 
subjugation  of  it,  was  the  beautiful  free  Greek  Spirit  pro- 
duced. Of  this  principle  we  must  have  a  clear  conception. 
It  is  a  superficial  and  absurd  idea  that  such  a  beautiful  and 
truly  free  life  can  be  produced  by  a  process  so  incomplex  as 
the  development  of  a  race  keeping  within  the  limits  of 
blood-relationship  and  friendship.  Even  the  plant,  which 
supplies  the  nearest  analogy  to  such  a  calm,  homogeneous 
unfolding,  lives  and  grows  only  by  means  of  the  antithetic 
activities  of  light,  air,  and  water.  The  only  real  antithesis 
that  Spirit  can  have,  is  itself  spiritual :  viz.,  its  inherent 
heterogeneity,  through  which  alone  it  acquires  the  power  of 
realizing  itself  as  Spirit.  The  history  of  Greece  exhibits  at 
its  commencement  this  interchange  and  mixture  of  partly 
homesprung,  partly  quite  foreign  stocks  ;  and  it  was  Attica 
itself— whose  people  was  destined  to  attain  the  acme  of 
Hellenic  bloom — that  was  the  asylum  of  the  most  various 
stocks  and  families.  Every  world-historical  people,  except 
the  Asiatic  kingdoms, — which  stand  detached  from  the  grand 


230  PART    II.       THE    GREEK   WOULD. 

historical  catena,— has  been  formed  in  this  way.  Thus  the 
Greeks,  like  the  Romans,  developed  themselves  from  a 
colluvies — a  conflux  of  the  most  various  nations.  Of  the 
multitude  of  tribes  which  we  meet  in  Greece,  we  cannot  say 
which  was  the  original  Greek  people,  and  which  immigrated 
from  foreign  lands  and  distant  parts  of  the  globe  ;  for  the 
period  of  which  we  speak  belongs  entirely  to  the  unhis- 
torical  and  obscure.  The  Pelasgi  were  at  that  time  a  prin- 
cipal race  in  Greece.  The  most  various  attempts  have  been 
made  by  the  learned  to  harmonize  the  confused  and  con- 
tradictory account  which  we  have  respecting  them, — a  hazy 
and  obscure  period  being  a  special  object  and  stimulus  to 
erudition.  Remarkable  as  the  earliest  centres  of  incipient 
culture  are  Thrace,  the  native  land  of  Orpheus, — and  Thee- 
saly  ;  countries  which  at  a  later  date  retreated  more  or  less 
into  the  background.  From  Phthiotis,  the  country  of 
Achvlles,  proceeds  the  common  name  Hellenes, — a  name 
which,  as  Thucydides  remarks,  presents  itself  as  little  in 
Homer  in  this  comprehensive  sense,  as  the  term  Barbarians, 
from  whom  the  Greeks  were  not  yet  clearly  distinguished. 
It  must  be  left  to  special  history  to  trace  the  several  tribes, 
and  their  transformations.  In  general  we  may  assume,  that 
the  tribes  and  individuals  were  prone  to  leave  their  country 
when  too  great  a  population  occupied  it,  and  that  conse- 
quently these  tribes  were  in  a  migratory  condition,  and 
practised  mutual  depredation.  "  Even  now,"  says  the  dis- 
cerning Thucydides,  "  the  Ozolian  Locrians,  the  JEtolians, 
and  Acarnanians  retain  their  ancient  mode  of  life  ;  the  custom 
of  carrying  weapons,  too,  has  maintained  itself  among  them 
as  a  relic  of  their  ancient  predatory  habits."  Respecting 
the  Athenians,  he  says,  that  they  were  the  first  who  laid  aside 
arms  in  time  of  peace.  In  such  a  state  of  things  agriculture 
was  not  pursued ;  the  inhabitants  had  not  only  to  defend 
themselves  against  freebooters,  but  also  to  contend  with 
wild  beasts  (even  in  Herodotus's  time  many  lions  infested 
the  banks  of  the  Nestus  and  Achelous) ;  at  a  later  time 
tame  cattle  became  especially  an  object  of  plunder,  and  even 
after  agriculture  had  become  more  general,  men  were  still 
entrapped  and  sold  for  slaves.  In  depicting  this  original 
condition  of  Greece,  Thucydides  goes  still  farther  into  de- 
tail. 


SECT.    I.      THE    ELEMENTS    OF   THE    GfcEEX    SPIBIT.     237 

Greece,  then,  was  in  this  state  of  turbulence,  insecurity, 
and  rapine,  and  its  tribes  were  continually  migrating. 

The  other  element  in  which  the  national  life  of  the 
Hellenes  was  versed,  was  the  Sea.  The  physique  of  their 
country  led  them  to  this  amphibious  existence,  and  allowed 
them  to  skim  freely  over  the  waves,  as  they  spread  them- 
selves freely  over  the  land, — not  roving  about  like  the 
nomad  populations,  nor  torpidly  vegetating  like  those  of  the 
river  districts.  Piracy,  not  trade,  was  the  chief  object  of 
maritime  occupations ;  and,  as  we  gather  from  Homer,  it 
was  not  yet  reckoned  discreditable.  The  suppression  of 
piracy  is  ascribed  to  Minos,  and  Crete  is  renowned  as  the 
land  where  security  was  first  enjoyed ;  for  there  the  state  of 
things  which  wre  meet  with  again  in  Sparta  was  early 
realized,  viz.,  the  establishment  in  power  of  one  party,  and 
the  subjugation  of  the  other,  which  was  compelled  to  obey 
and  work  for  the  former. 

We  have  just  spoken  of  heterogeneity  as  an  element  of 
the  Greek  Spirit,  and  it  is  well  known  that  the  rudiments 
of  Greek  civilization  are  connected  with  the  advent  of 
foreigners.  This  origin  of  their  moral  life  the  Greeks  have 
preserved,  with  grateful  recollection,  in  a  form  of  recogni- 
tion which  we  may  call  mythological.  In  their  mythology 
we  have  a  definite  record  of  the  introduction  of  agriculture 
by  Triptolemus,  who  was  instructed  by  Ceres,  and  of  the  insti 
tution  of  marriage,  &c.  Prometheus,  whose  origin  is  referred 
to  the  distant  Caucasus,  is  celebrated  as  having  first  taught 
men  the  production  and  the  use  of  fire.  The  introduction 
of  iron  was  likewise  of  great  importance  to  the  Greeks  ;  and 
while  Homer  speaks  only  of  bronze,  -<Eschylus  calls  iron 
"  Scythian."  The  introduction  of  the  olive,  of  the  art  of 
spinning  and  weaving,  and  the  creation  of  the  horse  by  Posei- 
don, belong  to  the  same  category. 

More  historical  than  these  rudiments  of  culture  is  the 
alleged  arrival  of  foreigners ;  tradition  tells  us  how  the 
various  states  were  founded  by  such  foreigners.  Thus, 
Athens  owes  its  origin  to  Cecrops,  an  Egyptian,  whose  his- 
tory, however,  is  involved  in  obscurity.  The  race  of  Deu- 
calion, the  son  of  Prometheus,  is  brought  into  connection 
with  the  various  Greek  tribes.  Pel  ops  of  Phrygia,  the 
son  of  Tantalus,  is  also  mentioned ;  next,  Danaus,  from 


238          PAET  II.   THE  GEEEK  WOELD. 

Egypt :  from  him  descend  Acrisius,  Danae,  and  Perseufi. 
Pelops  is  said  to  have  brought  great  wealth  with  him  to  the 
Peloponnesus,  and  to  have  acquired  great  respect  and  power 
there.  Danaus  settled  in  Argos.  Especially  important  is 
the  arrival  of  Cadmus,  of  Phoenician  origin,  with  whom 
phonetic  writing  is  said  to  have  been  introduced  into  Greece; 
Herodotus  refers  it  to  Phoenicia,  and  ancient  inscriptions 
then  extant  are  cited  to  support  the  assertion.  Cadmus, 
according  to  the  legend,  founded  Thebes. 

We  thus  observe  a  colonization  by  civilized  peoples,  who 
were  in  advance  of  the  Greeks  in  point  of  culture  :  though 
we  cannot  compare  this  colonization  with  that  of  the  English 
in  North  America,  for  the  latter  have  not  been  blended  with 
the  aborigines,  but  have  dispossessed  them  ;  whereas  in  the 
case  of  the  settlers  in  Greece  the  adventitious  and  autoch- 
thonic  elements  were  mixed  together.  The  date  assigned 
to  the  arrival  of  these  colonists  is  very  remote — the  14th  and 
15th  century  B.C.  Cadmus  is  said  to  have  founded  Thebes 
about  1490  B.C. — a  date  with  which  the  Exodus  of  Moses 
from  Egypt  (1500  B.C.)  nearly  coincides.  Amphictyon  is 
also  mentioned  among  the  Founders  of  Greek  institutions ; 
he  is  said  to  have  established  at  Thermopylae  a  union  be- 
tween many  small  tribes  of  Hellas  proper  and  Thessaly,— a 
combination  with  which  the  great  Amphictyonic  league  is 
said  to  have  originated. 

These  foreigners,  then,  are  reputed  to  have  established 
fixed  centres  in  Greece  by  the  erection  of  fortresses  and  the 
founding  of  royal  houses.  In  Argolis,  the  walls  of  which 
the  ancient  fortresses  consisted,  were  called  Cyclopian  ;  some 
of  them  have  been  discovered  even  in  recent  times,  since,  on 
account  of  their  solidity,  they  are  indestructible. 

These  walls  consist  partly  of  irregular  blocks,  whose  in- 
terstices are  filled  up  with  small  stones, — partly  of  masses  of 
stones  carefully  fitted  into  each  other.  Such  walls  are  those 
of  Tiryns  and  Mycenae.  Even  now  the  gate  with  the  lions, 
at  Mycenae,  can  be  recognized  by  the  description  of  Pau- 
sanias.  It  is  stated  of  Proetus,  who  ruled  in  Argos,  that  ho 
brought  with  him  from  Lycia  the  Cyclopes  who  built  these 
walls.  It  is,  however,  supposed  that  they  were  erected  by 
the  ancient  Pelasgi.  To  the  fortresses  protected  by  such 
walls  the  princes  of  the  heroic  times  generally  attached  their 


JECf.   I.       THE   ELEMENTS    OF    THE    OBEEE   SPIRIT.     239 

dwellings.  Especially  remarkable  are  the  Treasure-houses 
built  by  them,  such  as  the  Treasure-house  of  Minyas  a1 
Orchomenus,  and  that  of  Atreus  at  My  cense.  These  fortresses, 
then,  were  the  nuclei  of  small  states ;  they  gave  a  greater 
security  to  agriculture  ;  they  protected  commercial  inter- 
course against  robbery.  They  were,  however,  as  Thucydides 
informs  us,  not  placed  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  sea, 
on  account  of  piracy ;  maritime  towns  being  of  later  date. 
Thus  with  those  royal  abodes  originated  the  firm  establish- 
ment of  society.  The  relation  of  princes  to  subjects,  and  to 
each  other,  we  learn  best  from  Homer.  It  did  not  depend 
on  a  state  of  things  established  by  law,  but  on  superiority 
in  riches,  possessions,  martial  accoutrements,  personal  bra- 
very, preeminence  in  insight  and  wisdom,  and  lastly,  on 
descent  and  ancestry ;  for  the  princes,  as  heroes,  were  re- 
garded as  of  a  higher  race.  Their  subjects  obeyed  them,  not 
as  distinguished  from  them  by  conditions  of  Caste,  nor  as  in 
a  state  of  serfdom,  nor  in  the  patriarchal  relation — according 
to  which  the  chief  is  only  the  head  of  the  tribe  or  family  to 
which  all  belong — nor  yet  as  the  result  of  the  express  neces- 
sity for  a  constitutional  government ;  but  only  from  the 
need,  universally  felt,  of  being  held  together,  and  of  obeying 
a  ruler  accustomed  to  command — without  envy  and  ill-will 
towards  him.  The  Prince  has  just  so  much  personal  authority 
as  he  possesses  the  ability  to  acquire  and  to  assert ;  but  as 
this  superiority  is  only  the  individually  heroic,  resting  OE 
personal  merit,  it  does  not  continue  long.  Thus  in  Homer 
we  see  the  suitors  of  Penelope  taking  possession  of  the 
property  of  the  absent  Ulysses,  without  showing  the  slightest 
respect  to  his  son.  Achilles,  in  his  inquiries  about  his  father, 
when  Ulysses  descends  to  Hades,  indicates  the  supposition 
that,  as  he  is  old,  he  will  be  no  longer  honoured.  Manners 
are  still  very  simple  :  princes  prepare  their  own  repasts  ;  and 
Ulysses  labours  at  the  construction  of  his  own  house.  In 
Homer's  Iliad  we  find  a  King  of  Kings,  a  generalissimo  in  the 
great  national  undertaking, — but  the  other  magnates  environ 
him  as  a  freely  deliberating  council;  the-princeis  honoured, 
but  he  is  obliged  to  arrange  everything  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  others  ;  he  indulges  in  violent  conduct  towards  Achilles, 
but,  in  revenge,  the  latter  withdraws  from  the  struggle. 
Equally  Lax  is  the  relation  of  the  several  chiefs  to  the  people  at 


240  PART    II.       THE    GREEK    "WOULD, 

large,  among  whom  there  are  always  individuals  who  claim 
attention  and  respect  The  various  peoples  do  not  fight  as 
mercenaries  of  the  prince  in  his  battles,  nor  as  a  stupid  serf- 
like  herd  driven  to  the  contest,  nor  yet  in  their  own  interest; 
but  as  the  companions  of  their  honoured  chieftain, — as  wit- 
nesses of  his  exploits,  and  his  defenders  in  peril.  A  perfect 
resemblance  to  these  relations  is  also  presented  in  the  Greek 
Pantheon.  Zeus  is  the  Father  of  the  Gods,  but  each  one  of 
them  has  his  own  will ;  Zeus  respects  them,  and  they  him  : 
he  may  sometimes  scold  and  threaten  them,  and  they  then 
allow  his  will  to  prevail,  or  retreat  grumbling  ;  but  they  do 
not  permit  matters  to  come  to  an  extremity,  and  Zeus 
so  arranges  matters  on  the  whole — by  making  this  concession 
to  one,  that  to  another — as  to  produce  satisfaction.  In 
the  terrestrial,  as  well  as  in  the  Olympian  world,  there  is, 
therefore,  only  a  lax  bond  of  unity  maintained ;  royalty  has 
not  yet  become  monarchy,  for  it  is  only  in  a  more  extensive 
society  that  the  need  of  the  latter  is  felt. 

While  this  state  of  things  prevailed,  and  social  relations 
were  such  as  have  been  described,  that  striking  and  great 
event  took  place — the  union  of  the  whole  of  Greece  in  a 
national  undertaking,  viz.,  the  Trojan  War;  with  which 
began  that  more  extensive  connection  with  Asia  which  had 
very  important  results  for  the  Greeks.  (The  expedition  of 
Jason  to  Colchis — also  mentioned  by  the  poets — and  which 
bears  an  earlier  date,  was,  as  compared  with  the  war  of  Troy, 
a  very  limited  and  isolated  undertaking.)  The  occasion  of 
that  united  expedition  is  said  to  have  been  the  violation  of 
the  laws  of  hospitality  by  the  son  of  an  Asiatic  prince,  in 
carrying  off  the  wife  of  his  host.  Agamemnon  assembles 
the  princes  of  Greece  through  the  power  and  influence  which 
he  possesses.  Thucydides  ascribes  his  authority  to  his  here- 
ditary sovereignty,  combined  with  naval  power  (Horn.  II.  ii. 
108),  in  which  he  was  far  superior  to  the  rest.  It  appears, 
however,  that  the  combination  was  effected  without  external 
compulsion,  and  that  the  whole  armament  was  convened 
simply  on  the  strength  of  individual  consent.  The  Hellenes 
were  then  brought  to  act  unitedly,  to  an  extent  of  which 
there  is  no  subsequent  example.  The  result  of  their  exer- 
tions was  the  conquest  and  destruction  of  Troy,  though  they 
hud  no  design  of  making  it  a  permanent  possession.  No 


SECT.    I.       T1IE    ELEMENTS    OF    THE    GREEK    SPIRIT.    241 

external  result,  therefore,  in  the  way  of  settlement  ensued, 
any  more  than  an  enduring  political  union,  as  the  effect  oi 
the  uniting  of  the  nation  in  the  accomplishment  of  this  sin- 
gle achievement.  But  the  poet  supplied  an  imperishable 
portraiture  of  their  youth  and  of  their  national  spirit,  to 
the  imagination  of  the  Greek  people ;  and  the  picture  of  this 
beautiful  human  heroism  hovered  as  a  directing  ideal  before 
their  whole  development  and  culture.  So  likewise,  in  the 
Jttiddle  Ages,  we  see  the  whole  of  Christendom  united  to  at- 
tain one  object — the  conquest  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre ;  but, 
in  spite  of  all  the  victories  achieved,  with  just  as  little  per- 
manent result.  The  Crusades  are  the  Trojan  War  of  newly 
awakened  Christendom,  waged  against  the  simple,  homo- 
geneous clearness  of  Mahometanism. 

The  royal  houses  perished,  partly  as  the  consequence  of 
particular  atrocities,  partly  through  gradual  extinction. 
There  was  no  strictly  moral  bond  connecting  them  with  the 
tribes  which  they  governed.  The  same  relative  position  is 
occupied  by  the  people  and  the  royal  houses  in  the  Greek 
Tragedy  also.  The  people  is  the  Chorus, — passive,  deedless : 
the  heroes  perform  the  deeds,  and  incur  the  consequent  res- 
ponsibility. There  is  nothing  in  common  between  them  ; 
the  people  have  no  directing  power,  but  only  appeal  to  the 
gods.  Such  heroic  personalities  as  those  of  the  princes  in 
question,  are  so  remarkably  suited  for  subjects  of  dramatic 
art  on  this  very  account — that  they  form  their  resolutions 
independently  and  individually,  and  are  not  guided  by  uni- 
versal laws  binding  on  every  citizen ;  their  conduct  and 
their  ruin  is  individual.  The  people  appears  separated  from 
the  royal  houses,  and  these  are  regarded  as  an  alien 
body — a  higher  race,  fighting  out  the  battles  and  under- 
going the  penalties  of  their  fate,  for  themselves  alone. 
Royalty  having  performed  that  which,  it  had  to  perform, 
thereby  rendered  itself  superfluous.  The  several  dynasties 
are  the  agents  of  their  own  destruction,  or  perish  not  as  the 
result  of  animosity,  or  of  struggles  on  the  side  of  the  people  : 
rather  the  families  of  the  sovereigns  are  left  in  calm  enjoy- 
ment of  their  power  — a  proof  that  the  democratic  govern- 
ment which  followed  is  not  regarded  as  something  absolutely 
diverse.  How  sharply  do  the  annals  of  other  times  contrast 
with  this ! 


242  PAST  li.       THE    GREEK    WORLD. 

This  fall  of  the  royal  houses  occurs  after  the  Trojan  war, 
nnd  many  changes  now  present  themselves.  The  Pelopon- 
nesus was  conquered  by  the  Heraclidae,  who  introduced  a 
calmer  state  of  things,  which  was  not  again  interrupted  by 
the  incessant  migrations  of  races.  The  history  now  becomes 
more  obscure ;  and  though  the  several  occurrences  of  the 
Trojan  war  are  very  circumstantially  described  to  us,  we  are 
uncertain  respecting  the  important  transactions  of  the  time 
immediately  following,  for  a  space  of  many  centuries.  No 
united  undertaking  distinguishes  them,  unless  we  regard  as 
such  that  of  which  Thucydides  speaks,  viz.,  the  war  between 
the  Chalcidians  and  Eretrians  in  Euboea,  in  which  many 
nations  took  part.  The  towns  vegetate  in  isolation,  or  at 
most  distinguish  themselves  by  war  with  their  neighbours. 
Yet,  they  enjoy  prosperity  in  this  isolated  condition,  by 
means  of  trade ;  a  kind  of  progress  to  which  their  being 
rent  by  many  party- struggles  offers  no  opposition.  In  the 
same  way,  we  observe  in  the  Middle  Ages  the  towns  of 
Italy — which,  both  internally  and  externally,  were  engaged 
in  continual  struggle — attaining  so  high  a  degree  of  pros- 
perity. The  flourishing  state  of  the  Greek  towns  at  that 
time  is  proved,  according  to  Thucydides,  also  by  the  colonies 
sent  out  in  every  direction.  Thus,  Athens  colonized  Ionia 
and  several  islands ;  and  colonies  from  the  Peloponnesus  settled 
in  Italy  and  Sicily.  Colonies,  on  the  other  hand,  became 
relatively  mother  states  ;  e.g.  Miletus,  which  founded  many 
cities  on  the  Propontis  and  the  Black  Sea.  This  sending  out 
of  colonies — especially  during  the  period  between  the  Tro- 
jan war  and  Cyrus — presents  us  with  a  remarkable  pheno- 
menon. It  can  be  thus  explained.  In  the  several  towns 
the  people  had  the  governmental  power  in  their  hands,  since 
they  gave  the  final  decision  in  political  affairs.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  long  repose  enjoyed  by  them,  the  population 
and  the  development  of  the  community  advanced  rapidly  ; 
and  the  immediate  result  was  the  amassing  of  great  riches, 
contemporaneously  with  which  fact  great  want  and  poverty 
make  their  appearance.  Industry,  in  our  sense,  did  not 
exist;  and  the  lands  were  soon  occupied.  Nevertheless 
a  part  of  the  poorer  classes  would  not  submit  to  the  degra- 
dations of  poverty,  for  every  one  felt  himself  a  free  citizen. 
The  onlv  expedient,  therefore,  that  remained,  was  coloniza- 


SECT.   I.      THE   ELEMENTS   OF  Tf££   OXEEK   SPIBIT.     243 

lion.  In  another  country,  those  who  suffered  distress  in 
their  own,  might  seek  a  free  soil,  and  gain  a  living  as  free 
citizens  by  its  cultivation.  Colonization  thus  became  a 
means  of  maintaining  some  degree  of  equality  among  the 
citizens ;  but  this  means  is  only  a  palliative,  and  the  origi- 
nal inequality,  founded  on  the  difference  of  property,  imme- 
diately reappears.  The  old  passions  were  rekindled  with 
fresh  violence,  and  riches  were  soon  made  use  of  for  se- 
curing power :  thus  "  Tyrants "  gained  ascendancy  in  the 
cities  of  Greece.  Thucydides  says,  "  When  Greece  increased 
in  riches,  Tyrants  arose  in  the  cities,  and  the  Greeks  devoted 
themselves  more  zealously  to  the  sea."  At  the  time  of 
Cyrus,  the  History  of  Greece  acquires  its  peculiar  interest ; 
we  see  the  various  states  now  displaying  their  particular 
character.  This  is  the  date,  too,  of  the  formation  of  the  dis- 
tinct Greek  Spirit.  Religion  and  political  institutions  are 
developed  with  it,  and  it  is  these  important  phases  of  na- 
tional life  which  must  now  occupy  our  attention. 

In  tracing  up  the  rudiments  of  Greek  culture,  we  first 
recal  attention  to  the  fact,  that  the  physical  condition  of 
the  country  does  not  exhibit  such  a  characteristic  unity, 
such  a  uniform  mass,  as  to  exercise  a  powerful  influence 
over  the  inhabitants.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  diversified,  and 
produces  no  decided  impression.  Nor  have  we  here  the  un- 
wieldy unity  of  a  family  or  national  combination  ;  but,  in  the 
presence  of  scenery  and  displays  of  elemental  power  broken 
up  into  fragmentary  forms,  men's  attention  is  more  largely 
directed  to  themselves,  and  to  the  extension  of  their  imma- 
ture capabilities.  Thus  we  see  the  Greeks — divided  and 
separated  from  each  other — thrown  back  upon  their  inner 
spirit  and  personal  energy,  yet  at  the  same  time  most 
variously  excited  and  cautiously  circumspect.  "We  behold, 
them  quite  im  determined  and  irresolute  in  the  presence 
of  Nature,  dependent  on  its  contingencies,  and  listening 
anxiously  to  each  signal  from  the  external  world  ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  intelligently  taking  cognizance  of  and 
appropriating  that  outward  existence,  and  shewing  bold- 
ness and  independent  vigour  in  contending  with  it.  These 
are  the  simple  elements  of  their  culture  and  religion.  In 
tracing  up  their  mythological  conceptions,  we  find  naturai 
objects  forming  the  basis — not  en  masse,  however ;  only  u* 

li  2 


PART    II.      THZ    GBEEk    WORLD. 

dissevered  forms.     The  Diana  of  Ephesus  (that  is,  Nature  aa 
the  universal  Mother),  the  Cybele  and  Astarte  of  Syria, — such 
comprehensive  conceptions  remained  Asiatic,  and  were  not 
transmitted  to  Greece.      For  the  Greeks  only  watch  the 
objects  of  Nature,  and  form  surmises  respecting  them ;  in- 
quiring, in  the  depth  of  their  souls,  for  the  hidden  meaning. 
According  to  Aristotle's  dictum,  that  Philosophy  proceeds 
from  Wonder,  the  Greek  view  of  Nature  also  proceeds  from 
wonder  of  this  kind.  Not  that  in  their  experience,  Spirit  meets 
something  extraordinary,  which  it  compares  with  the  common 
order  of  things ;  for  the  intelligent  view  of  a  regular  course  of 
Nature,  and  the  reference  of  phenomena  to  that  standard,  do 
not  yet  present  themselves ;  but  the  Greek  Spirit  was  excited 
to  wonder  at  the  Natural  in  Nature.     It  does  not  maintain 
the  position  of  stupid  indifference  to  it  as  something  exist- 
ing, and  there  an  end  of  it ;  but  regards  it  as  something  in 
the  first  instance  foreign,  in  which,  however,  it  has  a  presen- 
timent of  confidence,  and  the  belief  that  it  bears  something 
within  it  which  is  friendly  to  the  human  Spirit,  and  to  which 
it   may  be   permitted  to  sustain  a  positive   relation.     This 
Wonder,  and   this   Presentiment,  are   here  the  fundamental 
categories  ;  though  the  Hellenes  did  not  content  themselves 
with  these  moods  of  feelings,  but  projected  the  hidden  mean- 
ing, which  was  the  subject  of  the  surmise,  into  a  distinct  con- 
ception as  an  object  of  consciousness.     The  Natural  holds 
its  place  in  their  minds  only  after  undergoing  some  trans- 
formation by  Spirit — not  immediately.   M&u  regards  Nature 
only  as  an  excitement  to  his  faculties,  and  only  the  Spiri- 
tual which  he  has  evolved  from  it  can  have  any  influence 
over  him.     Nor  is  this  commencement  of  the  Spiritual  ap- 
prehension  of  Nature  to   be  regarded  as  an  explanation 
suggested  by  us ;  it  meets  us  in  a  multitude  of  conceptions 
formed  by  the  Greeks  themselves.     The  position  of  curious 
surmise,   of  attentive  eagerness   to   catch  the   meaning   of 
Nature,  is  indicated  to  us  in  the  comprehensive  idea  of  Pan. 
To  the  Greeks  Pan  did  not  represent  the  objective  Whole, 
but  that  indefinite  neutral  ground  which  involves  the  ele- 
ment of  the  subjective  ;  he  embodies  that  thrill  which  per- 
vades us  in  the  silence  of  the  forests  ;  he  was,  therefore, 
especially  worshipped  in  sylvan  Arcadia :   (a  "  panic  terror  " 
b  the  common  expression  for  a  groundless  fright).     Pan, 


SECT.    I.     THE    ELEMENTS    OF    THE    GLEEK    SPIRIT.      24)5 

this  thrill- ex  citing  being,  is  also  represented  as  playing  on 
the  flute ;  we  have  not  the  bare  internal  presentiment,  for 
Pan  makes  himself  audible  on  the  seven-reeded  pipe.  In 
what  has  been  stated  we  have,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Indefinite, 
which,  however,  holds  communication  with  man ;  on  the  other 
hand  the  fact,  that  such  communication  is  only  a  subjective 
imagining — an  explanation  furnished  by  the  percipient  him- 
self. On  the  same  principle  the  Greeks  listened  to  the  mur- 
muring of  the  fountains,  and  asked  what  might  be  thereby 
signified ;  but  the  signification  which  they  were  led  to  attach 
to  it  was  not  the  objective  meaning  of  the  fountain,  but  the 
subjective — that  of  the  subject  itself,  which  further  exalts 
the  Naiad  to  a  Muse.  The  Naiads,  or  Fountains,  are  the 
external,  objective  origin  of  the  Muses.  Yet  the  immortal 
songs  of  the  Muses  are  not  that  which  is  heard  in  the  mur- 
muring of  the  fountains  ;  they  are  the  productions  of  the 
thoughtfully  listening  Spirit — creative  while  observant.  The 
interpretation  and  explanation  of  Nature  and  its  trans- 
formations— the  indication  of  their  sense  and  import— is  the 
act  of  the  subjective  Spirit ;  and  to  this  the  Greeks  at- 
tached the  name  yuavreta.  The  general  idea  which  this  em- 
bodies, is  the  form  in  which  man  realizes  his  relationship  to 
Nature.  Mavrem  has  reference  both  to  the  matter  of  the 
exposition  and  to  the  expounder  who  divines  the  weighty 
import  in  question.  Plato  speaks  of  it  in  reference  to  dreams, 
and  to  that  delirium  into  which  men  fall  during  sickness  ;  an 
interpreter,  jurWte,  is  wanted  to  explain  these  dreams  and 
this  delirium.  That  Nature  answered  the  questions  which 
the  Greek  put  to  her,  is  in  this  converse  sense  true,  that  he 
obtained  an  answer  to  the  questions  of  Nature  from  his  own 
Spirit.  The  insight  of  the  Seer  becomes  thereby  purely 
poetical ;  Spirit  supplies  the  signification  which  the  natural 
image  expresses.  Everywhere  the  Greeks  desired  a  clear  pre- 
sentation and  interpretation  of  the  Natural.  Homer  tells  us, 
in  the  last  book  of  the  Odyssey,  that  while  the  Greeks  were 
overwhelmed  with  sorrow  for  Achilles,  a  violent  agitation 
came  over  the  sea  :  the  Greeks  were  on  the  point  of  dispersing 
in  terror,  when  the  experienced  Nestor  arose  and  interpreted 
the  phenomenon  to  them.  Thetis,  he  said,  was  coming,  witli 
her  nymphs,  to  lament  for  the  death  of  her  son.  When  a 
pestik'ure  broke  out  in  the  camp  of  the  Greeks,  the  Prisst 


246  PABT   II.      THE    GBEEE   WOBLIh 

Calchas  explained  that  Apollo  was  incensed  at  their  not 
having  restored  the  daughter  of  his  priest  Chryses  when  a 
ransom  had  been  offered.  The  Oracle  was  originally  inter* 
preted  exactly  in  this  way.  The  oldest  Oracle  was  at  Bo* 
dona  (in  the  district  of  the  modern  Janina).  Herodotus 
Bays  that  the  first  priestesses  of  the  temple  there,  were  from 
Egypt  ;  yet  this  temple  is  stated  to  be  an  ancient  Greek 
one.  The  rustling  of  the  leaves  of  the  sacred  oaks  was  the 
form  of  prognostication  there.  Bowls  of  metal  were  also 
suspended  in  the  grove.  But  the  sounds  of  the  bowls 
dashing  against  each  other  were  quite  indefinite,  and  had  no 
objective  sense  ;  the  sense  —the  signification — was  imparted 
to  the  sounds  only  by  the  human  beings  who  heard  them. 
Thus  also  the  Delphic  priestesses,  in  a  senseless,  distracted 
state — in  the  intoxication  of  enthusiasm  (pavia) — uttered 
unintelligible  sounds ;  and  it  was  the  privrtg  who  gave  to  these 
utterances  a  definite  meaning.  In  the  cave  of  Trophonius 
the  noise  of  subterranean  waters  was  heard,  and  appa- 
ritions were  seen  :  but  these  indefinite  phenomena  acquired 
a  meaning  only  through  the  interpreting,  comprehending 
Spirit.  It  must  also  be  observed,  that  these  excitements  of 
Spirit  are  in  the  first  instance  external,  natural  impulses. 
Succeeding  them  are  internal  changes  taking  place  in  the 
human  being  himself — such  as  dreams,  or  the  delirium  of  the 
Delphic  priestess — which  require  to  be  made  intelligible  by 
the  fiavriQ.  At  the  commencement  of  the  Iliad,  Achilles 
is  excited  against  Agamemnon,  and  is  on  the  point  of  draw- 
ing his  sword;  but  on  a  sudden  he  checks  the  movement  of 
his  arm,  and  recollects  himself  in  his  wrath,  reflecting  on  his 
relation  to  Agamemnon.  The  Poet  explains  this  by  saying 
that  it  was  Pallas- Athene  (Wisdom  or  Consideration)  that 
restrained  him.  "When  Ulysses  among  the  Phseacians,  has 
thrown  his  discus  farther  than  the  rest,  and  one  of  the 
Phaeacians  shews  a  friendly  disposition  towards  him,  the 
Poet  recognises  in  him  Pallas- Athene.  Such  an  explanation 
denotes  the  perception  of  the  inner  meaning,  the  sense,  the 
underlying  truth ;  and  the  poets  were  in  this  way  the 
teachers  of  the  Greeks  —  especially  Homer.  Mavre/a  in 
fact  is  Poesy — not  a  capricious  indulgence  of  fancy,  but  an 
imagination  which  introduces  the  Spiritual  into  the  Natural, 
— in  short  a  richly  intelligent  perception.  The  Gre(  k  Spirit, 


I.      THE    ELEMENTS    OF    THE    GREEK    SPIEIT      2-1 7 

on  the  whole,  therefore,  is  free  from  superstition,  since  it 
changes  the  sensuow  into  the  sensible — the  Intellectual — so 
that  [oracular]  decisions  are  derived  from  Spirit ;  although 
superstition  comes  in  again  from  another  quarter,  as  will  be 
observed  when  impulsions  from  another  source  than  the 
Spiritual,  are  allowed  to  tell  upon  opinion  and  action. 

But  the  stimuli  that  operated  on  the  Spirit  of  the  Greeks 
are  not  to  be  limited  to  these  objective  and  subjective  ex- 
citements. The  traditional  element  derived  from  foreign 
countries,  the  culture,  the  divinities  and  ritual  observances 
transmitted  to  them  ab  extra  must  also  be  included.  It 
has  been  long  a  much  vexed  question  whether  the  arts  and 
the  religion  of  the  Greeks  were  developed  independently 
or  through  foreign  suggestion.  Under  the  conduct  of  a 
one-sided  understanding  the  controversy  is  interminable  ; 
for  it  is  no  less  a  fact  of  history  that  the  Greeks  derived 
conceptions  from  India,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  than  that  the  Greek 
conceptions  are  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  those  others 
alien.  Herodotus  (II.  53)  asserts,  with  equal  decision,  that 
"  Homer  and  Hesiod  invented  a  Theogony  for  the  Greeks, 
and  assigned  to  the  gods  their  appropriate  epithets  "  (a  most 
weighty  sentence,  which  has  been  the  subject  of  deep  inves- 
tigation, especially  by  Creuzer), — and,  in  another  place, 
that  Greece  took  the  names  of  its  divinities  from  Egypt,  and 
that  the  Greeks  made  inquiry  at  Dodona,  whether  they 
ought  to  adopt  these  names  or  not.  This  appears  self-con- 
tradictory :  it  is,  however,  quite  consistent ;  for  the  fact  is 
that  the  Greeks  evolved  the  Spiritual  from  the  materials 
which  they  had  received.  The  Natural,  as  explained  by 
man, — i.  e.  its  internal  essential  element — is,  as  a  universal 
principle,  the  beginning  of  the  Divine.  Just  as  in  Art  the 
Greeks  may  have  acquired  a  mastery  of  technical  matters 
from  others — from  the  Egyptians  especially — so  in  their 
religion  the  commencement  might  have  been  from  without : 
but  by  their  independent  spirit  they  transformed  the  one 
as  well  as  the  other. 

Traces  of  such  foreign  rudiments  may  be  generally  dis- 
covered (Creuzer,  in  his  "  Symbolik,"  dwells  especially  on 
this  point).  The  amours  of  Zeus  appear  indeed  as  some- 
thing isolated,  extraneous,  adventitious,  but  it  may  be  shewn 
that  foreign  theogouic  representations  form  their  taais. 


248  PAET  n.    THE  GBEEX 

Hercules  is,  among  the  Hellenes,  that  Spiritual  Humanity 
which  by  native  energy  attains  Olympus  through  the  twelve 
far-famed  labours  :  but  the  foreign  idea  that  lies  at  the 
basis  is  the  Sun,  completing  its  revolution  through  the 
twelve  signs  of  the  Zodiac.  The  Mysteries  were  only  such 
ancient  rudiments,  and  certainly  contained  no  greater  wis- 
dom than  already  existed  in  the  consciousness  of  the  Greeks. 
All  Athenians  were  initiated  in  the  mysteries— Socrates  ex- 
cepted,  who  refused  initiation,  because  he  lnii«w  well  thnt 
science  and  art  are  not  the  product  of  mysteries,  and  that 
Wisdom  never  lies  among  arcana.  True  science  has  its 
place  much  rather  in  the  open  field  of  consciousness. 

In  summing  up  the  constituents  of  the  Greek  Spirit,  we 
find  its  fundamental  characteristic  to  be,  that  the  freedom  of 
Spirit  is  conditioned  by  and  has  an  essential  relation  to  some 
stimulus  supplied  by  Nature.  Greek  freedom  of  thought  is 
excited  by  an  alien  existence  ;  but  it  is  free  because  it  trans- 
forms and  virtually  reproduces  the  stimulus  by  its  own  opera- 
tion. This  phase  of  Spirit  is  the  medium  between  the  loss 
of  individuality  on  the  part  of  man  (such  as  we  observe  in 
the  Asiatic  principle,  in  which  the  Spiritual  and  Divine 
exists  only  under  a  Natural  form),  and  Infinite  Subjectivity 
as  pure  certainty  of  itself — the  position  that  the  Ego  is  the 
ground  of  all  that  can  lay  claim  to  substantial  existence.  The 
Greek  Spirit  as  the  medium  between  these  two,  begins  with 
Nature,  but  transforms  it  into  a  mere  objective  form  of  its 
(Spirit's)  own  existence ;  Spirituality  is  therefore  not  yet 
absolutely  free  ;  not  yet  absolutely  self-produced, — is  not  self- 
stimulation.  Setting  out  from  surmise  and  wonder,  the  Greek 
Spirit  advances  to  definite  conceptions  of  the  hidden  mean- 
ings of  Nature.  In  the  subject  itself  too,  the  same  harmony 
is  produced.  In  Man,  the  side  of  his  subjective  existence 
which  he  owes  to  Nature,  is  the  Heart,  the  Disposition,  Pas- 
sion, and  Variety  of  Temperament :  this  side  is  then  deve- 
loped in  a  spiritual  direction  to  free  Individuality ;  so  that  the 
character  is  not  placed  in  a  relation  to  universally  valid 
moral  authorities,  assuming  the  form  of  duties,  bub  the 
Moral  appears  as  a  nature  peculiar  to  the  individual — an  exer- 
tion of  will,  the  result  of  disposition  and  individual  consti- 
tution. This  stamps  the  Greek  character  as  that  of  Indi- 
viduality conditioned  by  Beauty,  which  is  p "oduced  by  Spirit, 


SECT.   I.      THE    ELEMENTS   OF    THE    OHEEK   SPIilTT.    219 

transforming  the  merely  Natural  into  an  expression  of  its 
own  being.  The  activity  of  Spirit  does  not  yet  possess  in 
itself  the  material  and  organ  of  expression,  but  needs  the 
excitement  of  Nature  and  the  matter  which  Nature  supplies: 
it  is  not  free,  self- determining  Spirituality,  but  mere  natural- 
ness formed  to  Spirituality — Spiritual  Individuality.  The 
Greek  Spirit  is  the  plastic  artist,  forming  the  stone  into  a 
work  of  art.  In  this  formative  process  the  stone  does  not 
remain  mere  stone,— the  form  being  only  superinduced  from 
without;  but  it  is  made  an  expression  of  the  Spiritual,  even 
contrary  to  its  nature,  and  thus  transformed.  Conversely,  the 
artist  needs  for  his  spiritual  conceptions,  stone,  colours, 
sensuous  forms  to  express  his  idea.  Without  such  an  element 
he  can  no  more  be  conscious  of  the  idea  himself,  than  give  it 
an  objective  form  for  the  contemplation  of  others  ;  since 
it  cannot  in  Thought  alone  become  an  object  to  him.  The 
Egyptian  Spirit  also  was  a  similar  labourer  in  Matter,  but 
the  Natural  had  not  yet  been  subjected  to  the  Spiritual. 
No  advance  was  made  beyond  a  struggle  and  contest  with 
it;  the  Natural  still  took  an  independent  position,  and 
formed  one  side  of  the  image,  as  in  the  body  of  the  Sphinx. 
In  Greek  Beauty  the  Sensuous  is  only  a  sign,  an  expression, 
an  envelope,  in  which  Spirit  manifests  itself. 

It  must  be  added,  that  while  the  Greek  Spirit  is  a  trans- 
forming artist  of  this  kind,  it  knows  itself  free  in  its  pro- 
ductions ;  for  it  is  their  creator,  and  they  are  what  is  called 
the  "  work  of  man."  They  are,  however,  not  merely  this, 
but  Eternal  Truth — the  energizing  of  Spirit  in  its  innate 
essence,  and  quite  as  really  not  created  as  created  by  man. 
He  has  a  respect  and  veneration  for  these  conceptions  and 
images, — this  Olympian  Zeus — this  Pallas  of  the  Acropolis, — 
and  in  the  same  way  for  the  laws,  political  and  ethical,  that 
guide  his  actions.  But  He,  the  human  being,  is  the  womb 
that  conceived  them,  he  the  breast  that  suckled  them,  he  the 
Spiritual  to  which  their  grandeur  and  purity  is  owing.  Thus 
he  feels  himself  calm  in  contemplating  them,  and  not  only 
free  in  himself,  but  possessing  the  consciousness  of  his 
freedom  ;  thus  the  honour  of  the  Human  is  swallowed  up  in 
the  worship  of  the  Divine.  Men  honour  the  Divine  in  and  for 
itself,  but  at  the  same  time  as  their  deed,  their  product 'on, 
their  phenomenal  existence ;  thus  the  Divine  r?xjeives  its 


250  PAET    II.      THE    GREEK   WOBLB. 

honour  through  the   respect  paid  to  the  Human,  and  the 
Human  in  virtue  of  the  honour  paid  to  the  Divine. 

Such  are  the  qualities  of  that  Beautiful  Individuality^ 
which  constitutes  the  centre  of  the  Greek  character.  We 
must  now  consider  the  several  radiations  which  this  idea 
throws  out  in  realizing  itself.  All  issue  in  works  of  art,  and 
we  may  arrange  unvler  three  heads :  the  subjective  work  of 
art,  that  is,  the  culture  of  the  man  himself ;  —the  objective 
work  of  art,  i.e.,  the  shaping  of  the  world  of  divinities ; — 
lastly,  the  political  work  of  art — the  form  of  the  Constitution, 
and  the  relations  of  the  Individuals  who  compose  it. 


SECTION  II. 

PHASES  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  AESTHETICALLY   CONDITIONED. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  SUBJECTIVE  WORK  OF  ART. 

MAN  with  his  necessities  sustains  a  practical  relation  to 
external  Nature,  and  in  making  it  satisfy  his  desires,  and 
thus  using  it  up,  has  recourse  to  a  system  of  means.  For 
natural  objects  are  powerful,  and  offer  resistance  in  various 
ways.  In  order  to  subdue  them,  man  introduces  other 
natural  agents;  thus  turns  Nature  against  itself,  and 
invents  instruments  for  this  purpose.  These  human  inven- 
tions belong  to  Spirit,  and  such  an  instrument  is  to  be 
respected  more  than  a  mere  natural  object.  "We  see,  too, 
that  the  Greeks  are  accustomed  to  set  an  especial  value 
upon  them,  for  in  Homer,  man's  delight  in  them  appears  in 
a  very  striking  way.  In  the  notice  of  Agamemnon's  sceptre, 
its  origin  is  given  in  detail :  mention  is  made  of  doors  which 
turn  on  hinges,  and  of  accoutrements  and  furniture,  in  a 
way  that  expresses  satisfaction.  The  honour  of  human 
invention  in  subjugating  Nature  is  ascribed  to  the  gods. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  man  uses  Nature  for  ornament, 
which  is  intended  only  as  a  token  of  wealth  and  of  that  which 
man  hrs  made  of  himself.  We  find  Ornament,  in  this 


SECT.  II.  CHAP.  I.       THE    SUBJECTIVE    WOEK  OF  AKT.     R>1 

interest,  already  very  much  developed  among  the  Homeric 
Greeks.  It  is  true  that  both  barbarians  and  civilized 
nations  ornament  themselves ;  but  barbarians  content  them- 
selves with  mere  ornament  5-— they  intend  their  persons  to 
please  by  an  external  addition.  But  ornament  by  its  very 
nature  is  destined  only  to  beautify  something  other  than 
itself,  viz.  the  human  body,  which  is  man's  immediate  envi- 
ronment, and  which,  in  common  with  Nature  at  large,  he 
has  to  transform.  The  spiritual  interest  of  primary  import- 
ance is,  therefore,  the  development  of  the  body  to  a  perfect 
organ  for  the  Will — an  adaptation  which  may  on  the  one 
hand  itself  be  the  means  for  ulterior  objects,  and  on  the  other 
hand,  appear  as  an  object  per  se.  Among  the  Greeks,  then, 
we  find  this  boundless  impulse  of  individuals  to  display 
themselves,  and  to  find  their  enjoyment  in  so  doing.  Sen- 
suous enjoyment  does  not  become  the  basis  of  their  condition 
when  a  state  of  repose  has  been  obtained,  any  more  than  the 
dependence  and  stupor  of  superstition  which  enjoyment 
entails.  They  are  too  powerfully  excited,  too  much  bent  upon 
developing  their  individuality,  absolutely  to  adore  Nature, 
as  it  manifests  itself  in  its  aspects  of  power  and  beneficence. 
That  peaceful  condition  which  ensued  when  a  predatory  life 
had  been  relinquished,  and  liberal  nature  had  afforded 
security  and  leisure,  turned  their  energies  in  the  direction 
of  self-assertion — the  effort  to  dignify  themselves.  But 
while  on  the  one  side  they  have  too  much  independent  per- 
sonality to  be  subjugated  by  superstition,  that  sentiment  has 
not  gone  to  the  extent  of  making  them  vain ;  on  the  con- 
trary, essential  conditions  must  be  first  satisfied,  before 
this  can  become  a  matter  of  vanity  with  them.  The  exhilara- 
ting sense  of  personality,  in  contrast  with  sensuous  sub- 
jection to  nature,  and  the  need,  not  of  mere  pleasure,  but  of 
the  display  of  individual  powers,  in  order  thereby  to  gain 
special  distinction  and  consequent  enjoyment,  constitute 
therefore  the  chief  characteristic  and  principal  occupation  of 
the  Greeks.  Free  as  the  bird  singing  in  the  sky,  the  indi- 
vidual only  expresses  what  lies  in  his  untrammelled  human 
nature, — [to  give  the  world  "  assurance  of  a  man  "], — to  have 
his  importance  recognized.  This  is  the  subjective  beginning 
of  Greek  Art,— in  which  the  human  being  elaborates  his 
physical  being,  in  free,  beautiful  movement  and  agih  vigour, 


252  PART  II.   THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

to  a  work  3f  art.  The  Greeks  first  trained  their  own 
persons  to  beautiful  configurations  before  they  attempted 
the  expression  of  such  in  marble  and  in  paintings.  The 
innocuous  contests  of  games,  in  which  every  one  exhibits  his 
powers,  is  of  very  ancient  date.  Homer  gives  a  noble  descrip- 
tion of  the  games  conducted  by  Achilles,  in  honour  of  Patro- 
clus :  but  in  all  his  poems  there  is  no  notice  of  statues  of  the 
gods,  though  he  mentions  the  sanctuary  at  Dodona,  and  the 
treasure-house  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  The  games  in  Homer 
consist  in  wrestling  and  boxing,  running,  horse  and  chariot 
races,  throwing  the  discus  or  javelin,  and  archery.  With 
these  exercises  are  united  dance  and  song,  to  express  and 
form  part  of  the  enjoyment  of  social  exhilaration,  and  which 
arts  likewise  blossomed  into  beauty.  On  the  shield  of 
Achilles,  Hephaestus  represents,  among  other  things,  how 
beautiful  youths  and  maidens  move  as  quickly  "  with  well- 
taught  feet,"  as  the  potter  turns  bis  wheel.  The  multitude 
stand  round  enjoying  the  spectacle  ;  the  divine  singer  accom- 
panies the  song  with  the  harp,  and  two  chief  dancers  perform 
their  evolutions  in  the  centre  of  the  circle. 

These  games  arid  a3sthetic  displays,  with  the  pleasures  and 
honours  that  accompanied  them,  were  at  the  outset  only 
private,  originating  in  particular  occasions ;  but  in  the 
sequel  they  became  an  affair  of  the  nation,  and  were  fixed 
for  certain  times  at  appointed  places.  Besides  the  Olympic 
games  in  the  sacred  district  of  Elis,  there  were  also  held  the 
Isthmian,  the  Pythian,  and  Nemean,  at  other  places. 

If  we  look  at  the  inner  nature  of  these  sports,  we  shall 
first  observe  how  Sport  itself  is  opposed  to  serious  business, 
to  dependence  and  need.  This  wrestling,  running,  contend- 
ing was  no  serious  affair  ;  bespoke  no  obligation  of  defence, 
no  necessity  of  combat.  Serious  occupation  is  labour  that 
has  reference  to  some  want.  I  or  Nature  must  succumb  ;  if 
the  one  is  to  continue,  the  other  must  fall.  In  contrast 
with  this  kind  of  seriousness,  however,  Sport  presents  the 
higher  seriousness  ;  for  in  it  Nature  is  wrought  into  Spirit, 
and  although  in  these  contests  the  subject  haa  not  ad- 
vanced to  the  highest  grade  of  serious  thought,  yet  in  this 
exercise  of  his  physical  powers,  man  shews  his  Freedom,  viz. 
that  he  has  transformed  his  body  to  an  organ  of  Spirit. 

Man  has  immediately  in  one  of  his  organs,  the  Voice,  ail 


SECT.  II.  CHAP.  II.      Till  OBJECTITE  WORK    OF    A.BT.     253 

element  which  admits  and  requires  a  more  extensive  purport 
than  the  mere  sensuous  Present.  We  have  seen  how  Song 
is  united  with  the  Dance,  and  ministers  to  it :  but,  subse- 
quently Song  makes  itself  independent,  and  requires  musical 
instruments  to  accompany  it ;  it  then  ceases  to  be  unmean- 
ing, like  the  modulations  of  a  bird,  which  may  indeed  express 
emotion,  but  which  have  no  objective  import ;  but  it  requires 
an  import  created  by  imagination  and  Spirit,  and  which  i3 
then  further  formed  into  an  objective  work  of  art. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  OBJECTIVE  WORK  OF  ART. 

IF  the  subject  of  Song  as  thus  developed  among  the  Greeks 
is  made  a  question,  we  should  say  that  its  essential  and 
absolute  purport  is  religious.  "We  have  examined  the  Idea 
embodied  in  the  Greek  Spirit ;  and  Religion  is  nothing  else 
than  this  Idea  made  objective  as  the  essence  of  being. 
According  to  that  Idea,  we  shall  observe  also  that  the  Divine 
involves  the  vis  natures  only  as  an  element  suffering  a  pro- 
cess of  transformation  to  spiritual  power.  Of  this  Natural 
Element,  as  its  origin,  nothing  more  remains  than  the  accord 
of  analogy  involved  in  the  representations  they  formed  of 
Spiritual  power;  for  the  Greeks  worshipped  God  as  Spiri- 
tual. We  cannot,  therefore,  regard  the  Greek  divinity  as 
similar  to  the  Indian — some  Power  of  Nature  for  which 
the  human  shape  supplies  only  an  outward  form.  The 
essence  is  the  Spiritual  itself,  and  the  Natural  is  only  the 
point  of  departure.  But  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  ob- 
served, that  the  divinity  of  the  Greeks  is  not  yet  the  absolute, 
free  Spirit,  but  Spirit  in  a  particular  mode,  fettered  by  the 
limitations  of  humanity — still  dependent  as  a  determinate 
individuality  on  external  conditions.  Individualities,  objec- 
tively beautiful,  are  the  gods  of  the  Greeks.  The  divine 
Spirit  is  here  so  conditioned  as  to  be  not  yet  regarded  as 
abstract  Spirit,  but  has  a  specialized  existence — continues  to 
manifest  itself  in  sense  ;  but  so  that  the  sensuous  is  not  its 
substance,  but  is  only  an  element  of  its  manifestation.  Thia 


254  PART  II.     THE   GBEEK  WOBLI>. 

must  be  our  leading  idea  in  the  consideration  of  the  Greek 
mythology,  and  we  must  have  our  attention  fixed  upon  it  so 
much  the  more  firmly,  as — partly  through  the  influence  of 
erudition,  which  has  whelmed  essential  principles  beneath 
an  infinite  amount  of  details,  and  partly  through  that  de- 
structive analysis  which  is  the  work  of  the  abstract  Under- 
standing— this  mythology,  together  with  the  more  ancient 
periods  of  Greek  history,  has  become  a  region  of  the  greatest 
intellectual  confusion. 

In  the  Idea  of  the  Greek  Spirit  we  found  the  two  ele- 
ments, Nature  and  Spirit,  in  such  a  relation  to  each  other, 
that  Nature  forms  merely  the  point  of  departure.  This 
degradation  of  Nature  is  in  the  Greek  mythology  the  turn- 
ing point  of  the  whole, — expressed  as  the  War  of  the  Gods, 
the  overthrow  of  the  Titans  by  the  race  of  Zeus.  The 
transition  from  the  Oriental  to  the  Occidental  Spirit  is 
therein  represented,  for  the  Titans  are  the  merely  Physical — 
natural  existences,  from  whose  grasp  sovereignty  is  wrested. 
It  is  true  that  they  continue  to  be  venerated,  but  not  as 
governing  powers ;  for  they  are  relegated  to  the  verge  [the 
limbus]  of  the  world.  The  Titans  are  powers  of  Nature, 
Uranus,  Gsca,  Oceanus,  Selene,  Helios,  &c.  Chronos  ex- 
presses the  dominion  of  abstract  Time,  which  devours  its 
children.  The  unlimited  power  of  reproduction  is  restrained, 
and  Zeus  appears  as  the  head  of  the  new  divinities,  who 
embody  a  spiritual  import,  and  are  themselves  Spirit.  *  It 
is  not  possible  to  express  this  transition  more  distinctly  and 
naively  than  in  this  myth;  the  new  dynasty  of  divinities 
proclaim  their  peculiar  nature  to  be  of  a  Spiritual  order. 

The  second  point  is,  that  the  new  divinities  retain  natural 
elements,  and  consequently  in  themselves  a  determinate  re- 
lation to  the  powers  of  Nature,  as  was  previously  shewn. 
Zeus  has  his  lightnings  and  clouds,  and  Hera  is  the  creatress 
of  the  Natural,  the  producer  of  crescent  vitality.  Zeus  is  also 
the  political  god,  the  protector  of  morals  and  of  hospitality. 
Oceanus,  as  such,  is  only  the  element  of  Nature  which  his 
name  denotes.  Poseidon  has  still  the  wildness  of  that  ele- 
ment in  his  character ;  but  he  is  also  an  ethical  personage ;  to 

*  See  Hegel's  '«  Vorles.  iiber  die  Philos.  der  Religion,"  II.  p.  102.  s^\. 
(2nd  edition.) 


8S.CT.  II.    CHAP.  II.      THE    OBJECTIYE    WORK    OF    ART.    255 

him  is  ascribed  the  building  of  walls  and  the  production  of 
the  Horse.  Helios  is  the  sun  as  a  natural  element.  This 
Light, according  to  the  analogy  of  Spirit,  has  been  transformed 
to  self-consciousness,  and  Apollo  has  proceeded  from  Helios. 
The  name  AVKELOQ  points  to  the  connection  with  light ; 
Apollo  was  a  herdsman  in  the  employ  of  Admetus,  but  oxen 
not  subjected  to  the  yoke  were  sacred  to  Helios :  his  rays, 
represented  as  arrows,  kill  the  Python.  The  idea  of  Light 
as  the  natural  power  constituting  the  basis  of  the  represen- 
tation, cannot  be  dissociated  from  this  divinity;  especially  as 
the  other  predicates  attached  to  it  are  easily  united  with  it, 
and  the  explanations  of  Miiller  and  others,  who  deny  that 
basis,  are  much  more  arbitrary  and  far-fetched.  For  Apollo 
is  the  prophesying  and  discerning  god — Light,  tiiat  makes 
everything  clear.  He  is,  moreover,  the  healer  and  strength- 
ener ;  as  also  the  destroyer,  for  he  kills  men.  He  is  the 
propitiating  and  purifying  god,  e.g.,  in  contravention  of  the 
Eumenides — the  ancient  subterrene  divinities — who  exact 
hard,  stern  justice.  He  himself  is  pure ;  he  has  no  wife,  but 
only  a  sister,  and  is  not  involved  in  various  disgusting  adven- 
tures, like  Zeus  ;  moreover,  he  is  the  discerner  and  declarer, 
the  singer  and  leader  of  the  dances — as  the  sun  leads  the 
harmonious  dance  of  stars. — In  like  manner  the  Naiada 
became  the  Muses.  The  mother  of  the  gods,  Cybele — con- 
tinuing to  be  worshipped  at  Ephesus  as  Artemis— is  scarcely 
to  be  recognized  as  the  Artemis  of  the  G-reeks — the  chaste 
huntress  and  destroyer  of  wild  beasts.  Should  it  be  said 
that  this  change  of  the  Natural  into  the  Spiritual  is  owing 
to  our  allegorizing,  or  that  of  the  later  Greeks,  we  may 
reply,  that  this  transformation  of  the  Natural  to  the 
Spiritual  is  the  Greek  Spirit  itself.  The  epigrams  of  the 
Greeks  exhibit  such  advances  from  the  Sensuous  to  the 
Spiritual.  But  the  abstract  Understanding  cannot  compre- 
hend this  blending  of  the  Natural  with  the  Spiritual. 

It  must  be  further  observed,  that  the  Greek  gods  are  to  be 
regarded  as  individualities, — not  abstractions,  like  "  Know- 
ledge," "  Unity,"  "  Time,"  "Heaven,"  "  Necessity."  Such 
abstractions  do  not  form  the  substance  of  these  divinities ; 
they  are  no  allegories,  no  abstract  beings,  to  which  various 
attributes  are  attached,  like  the  Horatian  "  Necessitas  clavis 
trabalibus."  As  little  are  the  divinities  symbols,  for  a 


256  PART  II.  THE  GREEK  WO1LD. 

symbol  is  only  a  sign,  an  adumbration  of  something  el«e. 
The  Greek  gods  express  of  themselves  what  they  are.  The 
eternal  repose  and  clear  intelligence  that  dignifies  the  head 
of  Apollo,  is  not  a  symbol,  but  the  expression  in  which 
Spirit  manifests  itself,  and  shews  itself  present.  The  godj 
are  personalities,  concrete  individualities:  an  allegorica- 
being  has  no  qualities,  but  is  itself  one  quality  and  no  more. 
The  gods  are,  moreover,  special  characters,  since  in  each  of 
them  one  peculiarity  predominates  as  the  characteristic  one  ; 
but  it  would  be  vain  to  try  to  bring  this  circle  of  characters 
into  a  system.  Zeus,  perhaps,  may  be  regarded  as  ruling 
the  other  gods,  but  not  with  substantial  power  ;  so  that 
they  are  left  free  to  their  own  idiosyncrasy.  Since  the 
whole  range  of  spiritual  and  moral  qualities  was  appro- 
priated by  the  gods,  the  unity,  which  stood  above  them  all, 
necessarily  remained  abstract ;  it  was  therefore  formless 
and  unmeaning  Fact,  [the  absolute  constitution  of  things] — 
Necessity,  whose  oppressive  character  arises  from  the  ab- 
sence of  the  Spiritual  in  it ;  whereas  the  gods  hold  a  friendly 
relation  to  men,  for  they  are  Spiritual  natures.  That  higher 
thought,  the  knowledge  of  Unity  as  God,-  the  One  Spirit, 
— lay  beyond  that  grade  of  thought  which  the  Greeks  had 
attained. 

"With  regard  to  the  adventitious  and  special  that  attaches 
to  the  Greek  gods,  the  question  arises,  where  the  external 
origin  of  this  adventitious  element  is  to  be  looked  for.  It 
arises  partly  from  local  characteristics — the  scattered  con- 
dition of  the  Greeks  at  the  commencement  of  their  national 
life,  fixing  as  this  did  on  certain  points,  and  consequently 
introducing  local  representations.  The  local  divinities  stand 
alone,  and  occupy  a  much  greater  extent  than  they  do  after- 
wards, when  they  enter  into  the  circle  of  the  divinities,  and 
are  reduced  to  a  limited  position  ;  they  are  conditioned 
by  the  particular  consciousness  and  circumstances  of  the 
countries  in  which  they  appear.  There  are  a  multitude  of 
Herculeses  and  Zeuses,  that  have  their  local  history  like  the 
Indian  gods,  who  also  at  different  places  possess  temples  to 
which  a  peculiar  legend  attaches.  A  similar  relation  occurs 
in  the  case  of  the  Catholic  saints  and  their  legends  ;  though 
here,  not  the  several  localities,  but  the  one  "  Mater  Dei " 
supplies  the  point  of  departure,  being  afterwards  localized  in 


SECT.  II.  CHAP.  II.     THE    OBJECTIVE    WOBK   OF   ABT.    257 

the  most  diversified  modes.  The  Greeks  relate  the  liveliest 
and  most  attractive  stories  of  their  gods, — to  which  no  limit 
can  be  assigned,  since  rich  fancies  were  always  gushing 
forth  anew  in  the  living  Spirit  of  the  Greeks,  i  A  second 
source  from  which  adventitious  specialities  in  the  conception 
of  the  gods  arose  is  that  Worship  of  Nature,  whose  repre- 
sentations retain  a  place  in  the  Greek  myths,  as  certainly  as 
they  appear  there  also  in  a  regenerated  and  transfigured  con- 
dition. The  preservation  of  the  original  myths,  brings  us 
to  the  famous  chapter  of  the  "Mysteries"  already  men- 
tioned. These  mysteries  of  the  Greeks  present  something 
which,  as  unknown,  has  attracted  the  curiosity  of  all  times, 
under  the  supposition  of  profound  wisdom.  It  must  first 
be  remarked  that  their  antique  and  primary  character, 
in  virtue  of  its  very  antiquity,  shews  their  destitution  of 
excellence, — their  inferiority  ; — that  the  more  refined  truths 
are  not  expressed  in  these  mysteries,  and  that  the  view 
which  many  have  entertained  is  incorrect,  viz. — that  the 
Unity  of  God,  in  opposition  to  polytheism,  was  taught  in 
them.  The  mysteries  were  rather  antique  rituals ;  and  it  is 
as  unhistorical  as  it  is  foolish,  to  assume  that  profound 
philosophical  truths  are  to  be  found  there ;  since,  on  the  con- 
trary, only  natural  ideas — ruder  conceptions  of  the  metamor- 
phoses occurring  everywhere  in  nature,  and  of  the  vital  prin- 
ciple that  pervades  it— were  the  subjects  of  those  mysteries. 
If  we  put  together  all  the  historical  data  pertinent  to  the 
question,  the  result  we  shall  inevitably  arrive  at  will  be  that 
the  mysteries  did  not  constitute  a  system  of  doctrines,  but 
were  sensuous  ceremonies  and  exhibitions,  consisting  of 
symbols  of  the  universal  operations  of  Nature,  as,  e.g.,  the 
relation  of  the  earth  to  celestial  phenomena.  The  chief 
basis  of  the  representations  of  Ceres  and  Proserpine,  Bac- 
chus and  his  train,  was  the  universal  principle  of  Nature ; 
and  the  accompanying  details  were  obscure  stories  and  re- 
presentations, mainly  bearing  on  the  universal  vital  force 
and  its  metamorphoses.  An  analogous  process  to  that  of 
Nature,  Spirit  has  also  to  undergo ;  for  it  must  be  twice- 
born,  i.e.,  abnegate  itself;  and  thus  the  representations 
given  in  the  mysteries  called  attention,  though  only  feebly, 
to  the  nature  of  Spirit.  In  the  Greeks  they  produced  an 
emotion  of  shuddering  awe ;  for  an  instinctive  dread  cornea 

a 


258  PATIT   II.     THE  GREEK  WOBLD. 

over  rnen,  when  a  signification  is  perceived  m  a  form,  whicl. 
as  a  sensuous  phenomenon  does  not  express  that  signification 
and  which  therefore  both  repels  and  attracts, — awakes  sur- 
mises by  the  import  that  reverberates  through  the  whole, 
but  at  the  same  time  a  thrill  of  dread  at  the  repellent  form. 
JEschylus  was  accused  of  having  profaned  the  mysteries  in 
his  tragedies.  The  indefinite  representations  and  symbols 
of  the  Mysteries,  in  which  the  profound  import  is  only  sur- 
mised, are  an  element  alien  to  the  clear  pure  forms,  and 
threaten  them  with  destruction  ;  on  which  account  the  gods 
of  Art  remain  separated  from  the  gods  of  the  Mysteries,  and 
the  two  spheres  must  be  strictly  dissociated.  Most  of  their 
gods  the  Greeks  received  from  foreign  lands,— -as  Herodotus 
states  expressly  with  regard  to  Egypt, — but  these  exotic 
myths  were  transformed  and  spiritualized  by  the  Greeks  ; 
and  that  part  of  the  foreign  theogonies  which  accompanied 
them,  was,  in  the  mouth  of  the  Hellenes,  worked  up  into  a 
legendary  narrative  which  often  redounded  to  the  disadvan- 
tage of  the  divinities.  Thus  also  the  brutes  which  con- 
tinued to  rank  as  gods  among  the  Egyptians,  were  degraded 
to  external  signs,  accompanying  the  Spiritual  god.  While 
they  have  each  an  individual  character,  the  Greek  gods  are 
also  represented  as  human,  and  this  anthropomorphism 
is  charged  as  a  defect.  On  the  contrary  (we  may  imme- 
diately rejoin)  man  as  the  Spiritual  constitutes  the  element 
of  truth  in  the  Greek  gods,  which  rendered  them  superior  to 
all  elemental  deities,  and  all  mere  abstractions  of  the  One  and 
Highest  Being.  On  the  other  side  it  is  alleged  as  an  advan- 
tage of  the  Greek  gods,  that  they  are  represented  as  men 
— that  being  regarded  as  not  the  case  with  the  Christian 
God.  Schiller  says : 

"  While  the  gods  remained  more  human, 
The  men  were  more  divine." 

But  the  Greek  gods  must  not  be  regarded  as  more  human 
than  the  Christian  God.  Christ  is  much  more  a  Man  :  he 
lives,  dies — suffers  death  on  the  cross,— which  is  infinitely 
more  human  than  the  humanity  of  the  Greek  Idea  of  the 
Beautiful.  But  in  referring  to  this  common  element  of  the 
Greek  and  the  Christian  religion,  it  must  be  said  of  both, 
that  if  a  manifestation  of  God  is  to  be  supposed  at  all,  hia 


SECT.  II.  CHAP.  II.     THE    OJUEOTIYE    WORK    O!    ART.      259 

natural  form  must  be  that  of  Spirit,  wliich  for  sensuous 
conception  is  essentially  the  human ;  for  no  other  form  can 
lay  claim  to  spirituality.  God  appears  indeed  in  the  sun, 
in  the  mountains,  in  the  trees,  in  everything  that  has  life  ;  baft 
a  natural  appearance  of  this  kind,  is  not  the  form  proper  to 
Spirit:  here  God  is  cognizable  only  in  the  mind  of  the  per- 
cipient. If  God  himself  is  to  be  manifested  in  a  corres- 
ponding expression,  that  can  only  be  the  human  form  :  for 
from  this  the  Spiritual  beams  forth.  But  if  it  were  asked  : 
Does  God  necessarily  manifest  himself  ?  the  question  must 
be  answered  in  the  affirmative ;  for  there  is  no  essen- 
tial existence  that  does  not  manifest  itself.  The  real 
defect  of  the  Greek  religion,  as  compared  with  the  Chris- 
tian, is,  therefore,  that  in  the  former  the  manifestation  con- 
stitutes the  highest  mode  in  which  the  Divine  being  is 
conceived  to  exist — the  sum  and  substance  of  divinity ; 
while  in  the  Christian  religion  the  manifestation  is  regarded 
only  as  a  temporary  phase  of  the  Divine.  Here  the  manifested 
God  dies,  and  elevates  himself  to  glory ;  only  after  death 
is  Christ  represented  as  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 
The  Greek  god,  on  the  contrary,  exists  for  his  worshippers 
perennially  in  the  manifestation— only  in  marble,  in  metal 
or  wood,  or  as  figured  by  the  imagination.  But  why  did  God 
not  appear  to  the  Greeks  in  the  flesh  ?  Because  man  was 
not  duly  estimated,  did  not  obtain  honour  and  dignity,  till  he 
had  more  fully  elaborated  and  developed  himself  in  the 
attainment  of  the  Freedom  implicit  in  the  aesthetic  mani- 
festation in  question ;  the  form  and  shaping  of  the  divinity 
therefore  continued  to  be  the  product  of  individual  views, 
[not  a  general,  impersonal  one].  One  element  in  Spirit  is. 
that  it  produces  itself — makes  itself  what  it  is  :  and  the  othei 
is,  that  it  is  originally  free — that  Freedom  is  its  nature. and 
its  Idea.  But  the  Greeks,  since  they  had  not  attained  an 
intellectual  conception  of  themselves,  did  not  yet  realize  Spirit 
in  its  Universality — had  not  the  idea  of  man  and  the  essential 
unity  of  the  divine  and  human  nature  according  to  the 
Christian  view.  Only  the  self-reliant,  truly  subjective  Spirit 
eaii  bear  to  dispense  with  the  phenomenal  side,  and  can 
venture  to  assign  the  Divine  Nature  to  Spirit  alone.  It 
then  no  longer  needs  to  in  weave- the  Natural  into  its  idea  of 
the  Spiritual,  in  order  to  hold  fast  its  conception  of  the 

s  2 


200  PART    II.       THE    GREEK    WORLD. 

Divine,  and  to  have  its  unity  with  the  Divine,  externally 
visible ;  but  while  free  Thought  thinks  the  Phenomenal,  it  ia 
content  to  leave  it  as  it  is  ;  for  it  also  thinks  that  union  of  the 
Finite  and  the  Infinite,  and  recognizes  it  not  as  a  mere 
accidental  union,  but  as  the  Absolute — the  eternal  Idea 
itself.  Since  Subjectivity  was  not  comprehended  in  all  its 
depth  by  the  Greek  Spirit,  the  true  reconciliation  was  not 
attained  in  it,  and  the  human  Spirit  did  not  yet  assert  its 
true  position.  This  defect  shewed  itself  in  the  fact  of  Fate 
as  pure  subjectivity  appearing  superior  to  the  gods ;  it  also 
shews  itself  in  the  fact,  that  men  derive  their  resolves  not 
yet  from  themselves,  but  from  their  Oracles.  Neither  human 
nor  divine  subjectivity,  recognized  as  infinite,  has  as  yet,  ab- 
solutely decisive  authority. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    POLITICAL   WOKK    OF    ART. 

THE  State  unites  the  two  phases  just  considered,  viz.,  the 
Subjective  and  the  Objective  Work  of  Art.  In  the  State, 
Spirit  is  not  a  mere  Object,  like  the  deities,  nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  it  merely  subjectively  developed  to  a  beautiful  phy- 
sique. It  is  here  a  living,  universal  Spirit,  but  which  is  at 
the  same  time  the  self-conscious  Spirit  of  the  individuals 
composing  the  community. 

The  Democratical  Constitution  alone  was  adapted  to  the 
Spirit  and  political  condition  in  question.  In  the  East  we 
recognized  Despotism,  developed  in  magnificent  proportions, 
as  a  form  of  government  strictly  appropriate  to  the  Dawn- 
Land  of  History.  Not  less  adapted  is  the  democratical  form 
iii  Greece,  to  the  part  assigned  to  it  in  the  same  great  drama. 
In  Greece,  viz.,  we  have  ihe  freedom  of  the  Individual,  but 
it  has  not  yet  advanced  to  such  a  degree  of  abstraction,  that 
the  subjective  unit  is  conscious  of  direct  dependence  on 
the  [general]  substantial  principle — the  State  as  such.  In 
this  grade  of  Freedom,  the  individual  will  is  unfettered  in 
the  entire  range  of  its  vitality,  and  embodies  that  substantial 
principle,  [the  bond  of  the  political  union],  according  tc 


SECT.    II.  CHAP.  III.    THE  POLITICAL  WORK    OF   ART.    201 

its  particular  idiosyncrasy.  In  Borne,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  shall  observe  a  harsh  sovereignty  dominating  over  the 
individual  members  of  the  State ;  as  also  in  the  German 
Empire,  a  monarchy,  in  which  the  Individual  is  connected 
with  and  has  devoirs  to  perform  not  only  in  regard  to  the 
monarch,  but  to  the  whole  monarchical  organization. 

The  Democratical  State  is  not  Patriarchal,— does  not  re^t 
on  a  still  unreflecting,  undeveloped  confidence, — but  implies 
laws,  with  the  consciousness  of  their  being  founded  on  an 
equitable  and  moral  basis,  and  the  recognition  of  these  laws 
as  positive.  At  the  time  of  the  Kings,  no  political  life  had 
as  yet  made  its  appearance  in  Hellas ;  there  are,  therefore, 
only  slight  traces  of  Legislation.  But  in  the  interval  from 
the  Trojan  War  till  near  the  time  of  Cyrus,  its  necessity 
was  felt.  The  first  Lawgivers  are  known  under  the  name  of 
The  Seven  Sages, — a  title  which  at  that  time  did  not  imply 
any  such  character  as  that  of  the  Sophists — teachers  of 
wisdom,  designedly  [and  systematically]  proclaiming  the 
Bight  and  True— but  merely  thinking  men,  whose  thinking 
stopped  short  of  Science,  properly  so  called.  They  were 
practical  politicians  ;  the  good  counsels  which  two  of 
them — Thales  of  Miletus  and  Bias  of  Priene  — gave  to  the 
Ionian  cities,  have  been  already  mentioned.  Thus  Solon  was 
commissioned  by  the  Athenians  to  give  them  laws,  as  those 
then  in  operation  no  longer  sufficed.  Solon  gave  the  Athe- 
nians a  constitution  by  which  all  obtained  equal  rights, 
yet  not  so  as  to  render  the  Democracy  a  quite  abstract 
one.  The  main  point  in  Democracy  is  moral  disposition. 
Virtue  is  the  basis  of  Democracy,  remarks  Montesquieu ;  and 
this  sentiment  is  as  important  as  it  is  true  in  reference  to 
the  idea  of  Democracy  commonly  entertained.  The  Sub- 
stance, [the  Principle]  of  Justice,  the  common  weal,  the 
general  interest,  is  the  main  consideration ;  but  it  is  so  only 
as  Custom,  in  the  form  of  Objective  Will,  so  that  morality 
properly  so  called — subjective  conviction  and  intention — has 
not  yet  manifested  itself.  Law  exists,  and  is  in  point  of  sub- 
stance, the  Law  of  Freedom, —  rational  [in  its  form  and  pur- 
port,] and  valid  because  it  is  Law,  i.e.  without  ulterior 
sanction.  As  in  Beauty  the  Natural  element  — its  sensuous 
coefficient  — remains,  so  also  in  this  customary  morality,  laws 
assume  the  form  of  a  necessity  of  Nature.  The  Greeks  oo 


202  PAET  II.  THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

cupy  tlie  middle  ground  of  Beauty  and  have  not  yet  attained 
the  higher  stand-point  of  Truth.  While  Custom  and  Wont 
is  the  form  in  which  the  Bight  is  willed  and  done,  that  form 
is  a  stable  one,  and  has  not  yet  admitted  into  it  the  foe  of 
[unreflected]  immediacy  —  reflection  and  subjectivity  of 
Will.  The  interests  of  the  community  may,  therefore,  con- 
tinue to  be  entrusted  to  the  will  and  resolve  of  the  citizens, 
— and  this  must  be  the  basis  of  the  Greek  constitution ;  for 
no  principle  has  as  yet  manifested  itself,  which  can  contra- 
vene such  Choice  conditioned  by  Custom,  and  hinder  its 
realizing  itself  in  action.  The  Democratic  Constitu- 
tion is  here  the  only  possible  one :  the  citizens  are  still  un- 
conscious of  particular  interests,  and  therefore  of  a  corrupt- 
ing element :  the  Objective  Will  is  in  their  case  not  disin- 
tegrated. Athene  the  goddess  is  Athens  itself,  —  i.e.,  the 
real  and  concrete  spirit  of  the  citizens.  The  divinity  ceases 
to  inspire  their  life  and  conduct,  only  when  the  Will  has  re- 
treated within  itself — into  the  adytum  of  cognition  and  con- 
science,— and  has  posited  the  infinite  schism  between  the 
Subjective  and  the  Objective.  The  above  is  the  true  position 
of  the  Democratic  polity ;  its  justification  and  absolute  neces- 
sity rests  on  this  still  immanent  Objective  Morality.  For  the 
modern  conceptions  of  Democracy  this  justification  cannot  be 
pleaded.  These  provide  that  the  interests  of  the  community, 
the  affairs  of  State,  shall  be  discussed  and  decided  by 
the  People ;  that  the  individual  members  of  the  community 
shall  deliberate,  urge  their  respective  opinions,  and  give  then 
votes  ;  and  this  on  the  ground  that  the  interests  of  the  State 
and  its  concerns  are  the  interests  of  such  individual  members 
All  this  is  very  well ;  but  the  essential  condition  and  distinc- 
tion in  regard  to  various  phases  of  Democracy  is,  What  is 
the  character  of  these  individual  members  ?  They  are  abso- 
lutely authorized  to  assume  their  position,  only  in  as  far  as 
their  will  is  still  Objective  Will — not  one  that  wishes  this  or 
that,  not  mere  "good"  will.  For  good  will  is  something 
particular — rests  on  the  morality  of  individuals,  on  their  con- 
viction and  subjective  feeling.  That  very  subjective  Freedom 
which  constitutes  the  principle  and  determines  the  peculiar 
form  of  Freedom  in  our  world, — which  forms  the  absolute 
basis  of  our  political  and  religious  life,  could  not  manifest 
itself  in  Greece  otherwise  than  as  a  destructive  element. 


SECT.  II.  CHAP.  III.     THE  POLITICAL  WORK  OF  AET.    2G3 

Subjectivity  was  a  grade  not  greatly  in  advance  of  that  occu- 
pied by  the  Greek  Spirit ;  that  phase  must  of  necessity  soon 
be  attained  :  but  it  plunged  the  Greek  world  into  ruin,  for 
the  polity  which  that  world  embodied  was  not  calculated 
for  this  side  of  humanity — did  not  recognize  this  phase; 
since  it  had  not  made  its  appearance  when  that  polity  began 
to  exist.  Of  the  Greeks  in  the  first  and  genuine  form  of 
their  Freedom,  we  may  assert,  that  they  had  no  conscience  ; 
Vie  habit  of  living  for  their  country  without  farther  [analysis 
or]  reflection,  was  the  principle  dominant  among  them.  The 
consideration  of  the  State  in  the  abstract— which  to  our  un- 
derstanding is  the  essential  point—  was  alien  to  them.  Their 
grand  object  was  their  country  in  its  living  and  real  aspect ; — 
this  actual  Athens,  this  Sparta,  these  Temples,  these  Altars, 
this  form  of  social  life,  this  union  of  fellow-citizens,  these 
manners  and  customs.  To  the  Greek  his  country  was  a 
necessary  of  life,  without  which  existence  was  impossible. 
It  was  the  Sophists — the  "  Teachers  of  Wisdom  "  —  who  first 
introduced  subjective  reflection,  and  the  new  doctrine  that 
each  man  should  act  according  to  his  own  conviction.  When 
reflection  once  comes  into  play,  the  inquiry  is  started 
whether  the  Principles  of  Law  (das  Recht)  cannot  be  im- 
proved. Instead  of  holding  by  the  existing  state  of  things, 
internal  conviction  is  relied  upon ;  and  thus  begins  a  sub- 
jective independent  Freedom,  in  which  the  individual  finds 
himself  in  a  position  to  bring  everything  to  the  test  of  his 
own  conscience,  even  in  defiance  of  the  existing  constitution. 
Each  one  has  his  "  principles,"  and  that  view  which  accords 
with  his  private  judgment  he  regards  as  practically  the  best, 
and  as  claiming  practical  realization.  This  decay  even  Thucy- 
dides  notices,  when  he  speaks  of  every  one's  thinking  that 
things  are  going  on  badly  when  he  has  not  a  hand  in  the 
management. 

To  this  state  of  things — in  which  every  one  presumes  to 
have  a  judgment  of  his  own — confidence  in  Great  Men  i? 
antagonistic.  When,  in  earlier  times,  the  Athenians  com- 
mission Solon  to  legislate  for  them,  or  when  Lvcurgus  appears 
at  Sparta  as  lawgiver  and  regulator  of  the  State,  it  is  evi- 
dently not  supposed  that  the  people  in  general  think  that 
they  know  best  what  is  politically  right.  At  a  later  time 
also,  it  was  distinguished  personages  of  plastic  genius  in 


2G4  PABT  II.      THE  6BEEK  WORLD. 

whom  the  people  placed  their  confidence  :  Cleisthenes,  e.g. 
who  made  the  constitution  still  more  democratic  than  it  had 
been, — Miltiades,  Themistocles,  Aristides,  and  Cimon,  who 
in  the  Median  wars  stand  at  the  head  of  Athenian  affairs, — 
and  Pericles,  in  whom  Athenian  glory  centres  as  in  its  focus. 
But  as  soon  as  any  of  these  great  men  had  performed  what 
was  needed,  envy  'intruded — i.e.  the  recoil  of  the  sentiment 
of  equality  against  conspicuous  talent  -  and  he  was  either 
Imprisoned  or  exiled.  Finally,  the  Sycophants  arose  among 
the  people,  aspersing  all  individual  greatness,  and  reviling 
those  who  took  the  lead  in  public  affairs. 

But  there  are  three  other  points  in  the  condition  of  the 
Greek  republics  that  must  be  particularly  observed. 

1 .  With  Democracy  in  that  form  in  which  alone  it  existed 
in   Greece,  Oracles  are  intimately  connected.     To  an  inde- 
pendent resolve,  a  consolidated  Subjectivity  of  the  "Will  (in 
which  the  latter  is  determined  by  preponderating  reasons)  is 
absolutely  indispensable ;  but  the  Greeks  had  not  this  element 
of  strength  and  vigour  in  their  volition.     When  a  colony 
was  to  be  founded,  when  it  was  proposed  to  adopt  the  wor- 
ship of  foreign  deities,  or  when  a  general  was  about  to  give 
battle  to  the  enemy,  the  oracles  were  consulted.     Before  the 
battle  of  Plataea,  Pausanias  took  care  that  an  augury  should 
be  taken  from  the  animals  offered   in  sacrifice,  and  was  in- 
formed by  the  soothsayer  Tisamenus  that  the  sacrifices  were 
favourable  to  the   Greeks  provided  they  remained  on  the 
hither  side  of  the  Asopus,  but  the  contrary,  if  they  crossed 
the   stream   and  began   the   battle.     Pausanias,   therefore, 
awaited  the  attack.     In  their  private  affairs,  too,  the  Greeks 
came  to  a  determination  not  so  much  from  subjective  con- 
viction  as   from   some   extraneous  suggestion.     With  the 
advance  of  democracy  we  observe  the  oracles  no  longer  con- 
sulted on  the  most  important  matters,  but  the  particular 
views  of  popular  orators  influencing  and  deciding  the  policy 
of  the   State.      As  at  this  time  Socrates  relied  upon  his 
"  Daemon,"  so  the  popular  leaders  and  the  people  relied  on 
their  individual  convictions  in  forming  their  decisions.     But 
contemporaneously   with  this  were  introduced  corruption, 
disorder,  and  an  unintermitted  process  of  change  in  the 
constitution. 

2.  Another  circumstance  that  demands  special  attention 


SECT.    IT.  CEAP.  III.     THE  POLITICAL  WORK  OF  ART.    20)5 

here,  is  the  element  of  Slavery.  This  was  a  necessary  con- 
dition of  an  aesthetic  democracy,  where  it  was  the  right  and 
duty  of  every  citizen  to  deliver  or  to  listen  to  orations 
respecting  the  management  of  the  State  in  the  place  of 
public  assembly,  to  take  n^art  in  the  exercises  of  the  Gym- 
nasia, and  to  join  in  the  celebration  of  festivals.  It  was  a 
necessary  condition  of  such  occupations,  that  the  citizens 
should  be  freed  from  handicraft  occupations  ;  consequently, 
that  what  among  us  is  performed  by  free  citizens — the  work 
of  daily  life — should  be  done  by  slaves.  Slavery  does  not 
cease  until  the  Will  has  been  infinitely  self  reflected* — until 
Right  is  conceived  as  appertaining  to  every  freeman,  and  the 
term  freeman  is  regarded  as  a  synonyme  for  man  in  his 
generic  nature  as  endowed  with  Reason.  But  here  we  still 
occupy  the  stand-point  of  Morality  as  mere  Wont  and  Cus- 
tom, and  therefore  known  only  as  a  peculiarity  attaching  to  a 
certain  kind  of  existence,  [not  as  absolute  and  universal  Law.] 
3.  It  must  also  be  remarked,  thirdly,  that  such  democratic 
constitutions  are  possible  only  in  small  states — states  which 
do  not  much  exceed  the  compass  of  cities^  The  whole  Polis 
of  the  Athenians  is  united  in  the  one  city  of  Athens.  Tra- 
dition tells  that  Theseus  united  the  sc*ittered  Denies  into  an 
integral  totality.  In  the  time  of  Pericles,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  Peloponnesian  War,  when  the  Spartans  were  march- 
ing upon  Attica,  its  entire  population  took  refuge  in  the 
city.  Only  in  such  cities  can  the  interests  of  all  be  similar ; 
in  large  empires,  on  the  contrary,  diverse  and  conflicting 
interests  are  sure  to  present  themselves.  The  living  to- 
gether in  one  city,  the  fact  that  the  inhabitants  see  each 
other  daily,  render  a  common  culture  and  a  living  democratic 
polity  possible.  In  Democracy,  the  main  point  is  that  the 
character  of  the  citizen  be  plastic,  all  "  of  a  piece."  He 
must  be  present  at  the  critical  stages  of  public  business ;  he 
must  take  part  in  decisive  crises  with  his  entire  personality, 
— not  with  his  vote  merely  ;  he  must  mingle  in  the  heat  ot 
action, — the  passion  and  interest  of  the  whole  nvm  being 
absorbed  in  the  affair,  and  the  warmth  with  which  a  resolve 
was  made  being  equally  ardent  during  its  execution.  That 
unity  of  opinion  to  which  the  whole  community  must  be 

•  That  is— the  Objective  and  tie  Subjective  Will  must  be  harmonized, 

TB. 


266  PAET  II.   THE  GREEK  WOULD. 

brought  [when  any  political  step  is  to  be  taken,]  must  bo 
produced  in  the  individual  members  of  the  state  by  oratorical 
suasion.  If  this  were  attempted  by  writing — in  an  abstract, 
lifeless  way — no  general  fervour  would  be  excited  among  the 
social  units ;  and  the  greater  the  number,  the  less  weight 
would  each  individual  vote  have.  In  a  large  empire  a  gene- 
ral inquiry  might  be  made,  votes  might  be  gathered  in  the 
several  communities,  and  the  results  reckoned  up — as  was 
done  by  the  French  Convention.  But  a  political  existence 
of  this  kind  is  destitute  of  life,  and  the  World  is  ipso  facto 
broken  into  fragments  and  dissipated  into  a  mere  Paper- 
world.  In  the  French  Revolution,  therefore,  .the  republican 
constitution  never  actually  became  a  Democracy :  Tyranny, 
Despotism,  raised  its  voice  under  the  mask  of  Freedom 
and  Equality. 

We  come  now  to  the  Second  Period  of  Greek  History. 
The  first  period  saw  the  Greek  Spirit  attain  its  esthetic  de- 
velopment and  reach  maturity — realize  its  essential  being, 
The  second  shews  it  manifesting  itself— exhibits  it  in  its  full 
glory  as  producing  a  work  for  the  world,  asserting  its  prin- 
ciple in  the  struggle  with  an  antagonistic  force,  and  trium- 
phantly maintaining  it  against  that  attack. 


THE   WARS    WITH   THE   PERSIANS. 

THE  period  of  contact  with  the  preceding  World-His- 
torical people,  is  generally  to  be  regarded  as  the  second  in 
the  history  of  any  nation.  The  World- Historical  contact  of 
the  Greeks  was  with  the  Persians  ;  in  that,  Greece  exhibited 
itself  in  its  most  glorious  aspect.  The  occasion  of  the  Me- 
dian wars  was  the  revolt  of  the  Ionian  cities  against  the 
Persians,  in  which  the  Athenians  and  Eretriaiis  assisted 
them.  That  which,  in  particular,  induced  the  Athenians  to 
take  their  part,  was  the  circumstance  that  the  son  of  Pisis- 
tratus,  after  his  attempts  to  regain  sovereignty  in  Athens 
had  failed  in  Greece,  had  betaken  himself  to  the  King  of 
the  Persians.  The  Father  of  History  has  given  us  a  bril- 
liant description  of  these  Median  wars,  and  for  the  object 
we  are  now  pursuing  we  need  not  dwell  long  upon  them. 


SECT.  II.     THE  WAES  WITH  THE  PERSIANS,  267 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Median  wars,  Lacedaemon  was  in 
possession  of  the  Hegemony,  partly  as  the  result  of  having 
subjugated  and  enslaved  the  free  nation  of  the  Messenians, 
partly  because  it  had  assisted  many  Greek  states  to  expel 
their  Tyrants.  Provoked  by  the  part  the  Greeks  had  taken 
in  assisting  the  lonians  against  him,  the  Persian  King  sent 
heralds  to  the  Greek  cities  to  require  them  to  give  Water 
and  Earth,  i.  e.  to  acknowledge  his  supremacy.  The  Persian 
envoys  were  contemptuously  sent  back,  and  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians went  so  far  as  to  throw  them  into  a  well  -  a  deed, 
however,  of  which  they  afterwards  so  deeply  repented,  as  to 
send  two  Lacedaemonians  to  Susa  in  expiation.  The  Per- 
sian King  then  dispatched  an  army  to  invade  Greece.  With 
its  vastly  superior  force  the  Athenians  and  Plataeans,  without 
aid  from  their  compatriots,  contended  at  Marathon  under  Mil- 
tiades,  and  gained  the  victory.  Afterwards,  Xerxes  came  down 
upon  Greece  with  his  enormous  masses  of  nations  (Herodo- 
tus gives  a  detailed  description  of  this  expedition)  ;  and  with 
the  terrible  array  of  laud-forces  was  associated  the  not  less 
formidable  fleet.  Thrace,  Macedon,  and  Thessaly  were  soon 
subjugated  ;  but  the  entrance  into  Greece  Proper — the  Pass 
of  Thermopylae — was  defended  by  three  hundred  Spartans 
and  seven  hundred  Thespians,  whose  fate  is  well  known. 
Athens,  voluntarily  deserted  by  its  inhabitants,  was  ravaged  ; 
the  images  of  the  gods  which  it  contained  were  "  an  abomi- 
nation "  to  the  Persians,  who  worshipped  the  Amorphous,  the 
Unformed.  In  spite  of  the  disunion  of  the  Greeks,  the  Per- 
sian fleet  was  beaten  at  Salamis ;  and  this  glorious  battle-day 
presents  the  three  greatest  tragedians  of  Greece  in  remark- 
able chronological  association :  for  ^Cschylus  was  one  of  the 
combatants,  and  helped  to  gain  the  victory,  Sophocles 
danced  at  the  festival  that  celebrated  it,  and  on  the  same 
day  Euripides  was  born.  The  host  that  remained  in  Greece, 
under  the  command  of  Mardonius,  was  beaten  at  Plataea  by 
Pausanias,  and  the  Persian  power  was  consequently  broken 
at  various  points. 

Thus  was  Greece  freed  from  the  pressure  which  threatened 
to  overwhelm  it.  Greater  battles,  unquestionably,  have  been 
fought ;  but  these  live  immortal  not  in  the  historical  records 
of  Nations  only,  but  also  of  Science  and  of  Art — of  the 
Noble  and  the  Moral  generally.  For  these  are  World-His- 


268  PART  II.   THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

torical  victories ;  they  were  the  salvation  of  culture  and 
Spiritual  vigour,  and  they  rendered  the  Asiatic  principle 
powerless.  How  often,  on  other  occasions,  have  not  men 
sacrificed  everything  for  one  grand  object !  How  often  have 
not  warriors  fallen  for  Duty  and  Country  !  But  here  we 
are  called  to  admire  not  only  valour,  genius  and  spirit, 
but  the  purport  of  the  contest — the  effect,  the  result, 
which  are  unique  in  their  kind.  In  all  other  battles  a  par- 
ticular interest  is  predominant ;  but  the  immortal  fame  of  the 
Greeks  is  none  other  than  their  due,  in  consideration  of  the 
noble  cause  for  which  deliverance  was  achieved.  In  the  history 
of  the  world  it  is  not  the  formal  [subjective  and  individual] 
valour  that  has  been  displayed,  not  the  so-called  merit  of  the 
combatants,  but  the  importance  of  the  cause  itself,  that  must 
decide  the  fame  of  the  achievement.  In  the  case  before  us, 
the  interest  of  the  World's  History  hung  trembling  in  the 
balance.  Oriental  despotism — a  world  united  under  ono 
Wd  and  sovereign — on  the  one  side,  and  separate  states — 
insignificant  in  extent  and  resources,  but  animated  by  free 
individuality — on  the  other  side,  stood  front  to  front  in  array 
of  battle.  Never  in  History  has  the  superiority  of  spiritual 
power  over  material  bulk — and  that  of  no  contemptible 
amount — been  made  so  gloriously  manifest.  This  war,  and 
the  subsequent  development  of  the  states  which  took  the 
lead  in  it,  is  the  most  brilliant  period  of  Greece.  Every- 
thing which  the  Greek  principle  involved,  then  reached  its 
perfect  bloom  and  came  into  the  light  of  day. 

The  Athenians  continued  their  wars  of  conquest  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  thereby  attained  a  high  degree  of  prospe- 
rity ;  while  the  Lacedaemonians,  who  had  no  naval  power, 
remained  quiet.  The  antagonism  of  Athens  and  Sparta  now 
commences — a  favourite  theme  for  historical  treatment.  It 
may  be  asserted  that  it  is  an  idle  inquiry,  which  of  these  two 
states  justly  claims  the  superiority,  and  that  the  endeavour 
should  rather  be,  to  exhibit  each  as  in  its  own  depart- 
ment a  necessary  and  worthy  phase  of  the  Greek  Spirit.  On 
Sparta's  behalf,  e.  g.  many  categories  may  be  referred  to  in 
which  sne  displays  excellence  ;  strictness  in  point  of  morals, 
subjection  to  discipline,  &c.,  may  be  advantageously  cited. 
But  the  leading  principle  that  characterizes  this  state  is 
Political  Virtue,  which  Ather>s  nnd  Sparta  have,  indeed,  in 


SECT.    II.      ATHENS.  269 

common,  but  which  in  the  one  state  developed  itself  to  a 
work  of  Art,  viz.,  Free  Individuality — in  the  other  retained 
its  substantial  form.  Before  we  speak  of  the  Peloponnesian 
War,  in  which  the  jealousy  of  Sparta  and  Athens  broke  out 
into  a  flame,  we  must  exhibit  more  specifically  the  funda- 
mental character  of  the  two  states — their  distinctions  in  a 
political  and  moral  respect. 


ATHENS. 

WE  have  already  become  acquainted  with  Athens  as  an 
asylum  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  other  districts  of  Greece, 
in  which  a  very  mixed  population  was  congregated.  The 
various  branches  of  human  industry — agriculture,  handi- 
craft, and  trade  (especially  by  sea)—  were  united  in  Athens, 
but  gave  occasion  to  much  dissension.  An  antagonism  had 
early  arisen  between  ancient  and  wealthy  families  and  such 
as  were  poorer.  Three  parties,  whose  distinction  had  been 
grounded  on  their  local  position  and  the  mode  of  life  which 
that  position  suggested,  were  then  fully  recognized.  These 
were,  the  Pediaeans— inhabitants  of  the  plain,  the  rich  and 
aristocratic ;  the  Diacrians — mountaineers,  cultivators  of  the 
vine  and  olive,  and  herdsmen,  who  were  the  most  numerous 
class ;  and  between  the  two  [in  political  status  and  senti- 
ment], the  Paralians — inhabitants  of  the  coast — the  moderate 
party.  The  polity  of  the  state  was  wavering  between  Aris- 
tocracy and  Democracy.  Solon  effected,  by  his  division  into 
four  property-classes,  a  medium  between  these  opposites. 
All  these  together  formed  the  popular  assembly  for  delibe- 
ration and  decision  on  public  affairs ;  but  the  offices  of 
government  were  reserved  for  the  three  superior  classes.  It 
is  remarkable  that  even  while  Solon  was  still  living  and 
actually  present,  and  in  spite  of  his  opposition,  Pisistratus 
acquired  supremacy.  The  constitution  had,  as  it  were,  not 
yet  entered  into  the  blood  and  life  of  the  community  ;  it  had 
not  yet  become  the  habit  of  moral  and  civil  existence.  But 
it  is  still  more  remarkable  that  Pisistratus  introduced  no 
legislative  changes,  and  that  he  presented  himsejf  before  the 
Areopagus  to  answer  an  accusation  brought  against  him. 


270  PART   11.      THE    QBEEK    WOELi). 

The  rule  of  Pisistratus  and  of  his  sons  appears  to  have  been 
needed  for  repressing  the  power  of  great  families  and  factions, 
—  for  accustoming  them  to  order  and  peace,  and  the  citizens 
generally,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  Solonian  legislation. 
This  being  accomplished,  that  rule  was  necessarily  regarded 
as  superfluous,  and  the  principles  of  a  free  code  enter  into 
conflict  with  the  power  of  the  Pisistratidse.  The  Pisistra- 
tid®  were  expelled,  Hipparchus  killed,  and  Hippias  banished. 
Then  factions  were  revived  ;  the  Alcmaeonida?,  who  took  the 
lead  in  the  insurrection,  favoured  Democracy ;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  Spartans  aided  the  adverse  party  of  Isagoras, 
which  followed  the  aristocratic  direction.  The  Alcma3- 
onidae,  with  Cleisthenes  at  their  head,  kept  the  upper  hand. 
This  leader  made  the  constitution  still  more  democratic  than 
it  had  been ;  the  0v\cu,  of  which  hitherto  there  had  been 
only  four,  were  increased  to  ten,  and  this  had  the  effect  of 
diminishing  the  influence  of  the  clans.  Lastly,  Pericles 
rendered  the  constitution  yet  more  democratic  by  diminishing 
the  essential  dignity  of  the  Areopagus,  and  bringing  causes 
that  had  hitherto  belonged  to  it,  before  the  Demos  and  the 
[ordinary]  tribunals.  Pericles  was  a  statesman  of  plastic* 
^-Antique  character :  when  he  devoted  himself  to  public  life, 
he  renounced  private  life,  withdrew  from  all  feasts  and  ban- 
quets, and  pursued  without  intermission  his  aim  of  being 
useful  to  the  state, — a  course  of  conduct  by  which  he  attained 
such  an  exalted  position,  that  Aristophanes  calls  him  the 
Zeus  of  Athens.  We  cannot  but  admire  him  in  the  highest 
degree :  he  stood  at  the  head  of  a  light-minded  but  highly 
refined  and  cultivated  people ;  the  only  means  by  which  he 
could  obtain  influence  and  authority  over  them,  was  his 
personal  character  and  the  impression  he  produced  of  his 
being  a  thoroughly  noble  man,  exclusively  intent  upon  the 
weal  of  the  State,  and  of  superiority  to  his  fellow-citizens 
in  native  genius  and  acquired  knowledge.  In  force  of  indivi- 
dual character  no  statesman  can  be  compared  with  him. 

*  "  Plastic,"  intimating  his  absolute  devotion  to  statesmanship ;  the 
latter  not  being-  a  mere  mechanical  addition,  but  diffused  as  a  vitalizing 
und  formative  power  through  the  whole  man.  The  same  term  is  used 
below  to  distinguish  the  vitalizing  morality  that  pervades  the  dramas  of 
<Ksehylu8  and  Sophocles,  from  the  abstract  sentimentalities  of  Euripides. 

TR 


8EC1.    II.       ATHENS.  271 

As  a  general  principle,  the  Democratic  Constitution 
affords  the  widest  scope  for  the  development  of  great  political 
characters  ;  for  it  excels  all  others  in  virtue  of  the  fact  that 
it  not  only  allows  of  the  display  of  their  powers  on  the  part 
of  individuals,  but  summons  them  to  use  those  powers  for 
the  general  weal.  At  the  same  time,  no  member  of  the 
community  can  obtain  influence  unless  he  has  the  power  of 
satisfying  the  intellect  and  judgment,  as  well  as  the  passions 
and  volatility  of  a  cultivated  people. 

In  Athens  a  vital  freedom  existed,  and  a  vital  equality  of 
manners  and  mental  culture ;  and  if  inequality  of  property 
could  not  be  avoided,  it  nevertheless  did  not  reach  an  ex- 
treme. Together  with  this  equality,  and  within  the  compass 
of  this  freedom,  all  diversities  of  character  and  talent,  and 
all  variety  of  idiosyncrasy  could  assert  itself  in  the  most 
unrestrained  manner,  and  find  the  most  abundant  stimulus 
to  development  in  its  environment ;  for  the  predominant 
elements  of  Athenian  existence  were  the  independence  of 
the  social  units,  and  a  culture  animated  by  the  Spirit  of 
Beauty.  It  was  Pericles  who  originated  the  production  of 
those  eternal  monuments  of  sculpture,  whose  scanty  remains 
astonish  posterity ;  it  was  before  this  people  that  the  dramas 
of  jiEschylus  and  Sophocles  were  performed ;  and  later  on 
those  of  Euripides  —  which,  however,  do  not  exhibit  the 
same  plastic  moral  character,  and  in  which  the  principle  of 
corruption  is  more  manifest.  To  this  people  were  addressed 
the  orations  of  Pericles :  from  it  sprung  a  band  of  men 
whose  genius  has  become  classical  for  all  centuries ;  for  to 
this  number  belong,  besides  those  already  named,  Thucy- 
dides,  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristophanes — the  last  of  whom 
preserved  entire  the  political  seriousness  of  his  people  at  the 
time  when  it  was  being  corrupted ;  and  who,  imbued  with 
this  seriousness,  wrote  and  dramatized  with  a  view  to  his 
country's  weal.  We  recognize  in  the  Athenians  great 
industry,  susceptibility  to  excitement,  and  development  of 
individuality  within  the  sphere  of  Spirit  conditioned  by  the 
morality  of  Custom.  The  blame  with  which  we  find  them 
visited  in  Xenophon  and  Plato,  attaches  rather  to  that  later 
period  when  misfortune  and  the  corruption  of  the  democracy 
had  already  supervened.  But  if  we  would  have  the  verdict 
of  the  Ancients  on  the  political  life  of  Athens,  we  must 


272        ^  PART  II.     THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

turn,  not  to  Xenophon,  nor  even  to  Plato,  but  to  those  who 
had  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  state  in  its  full  vigour — 
who  managed  its  affairs  and  have  been  esteemed  its  greatest 
leaders — i.e.,  to  its  Statesmen.  Among  these,  Pericles  is 
the  Zeus  of  the  human  Pantheon  of  Athens.  Thucydides 
puts  into  his  mouth  the  most  profound  description  of 
Athenian  life,  on  the  occasion  of  the  funeral  obsequies  of 
the  warriors  who  fell  in  the  second  year  of  the  Pelopounesian 
War.  He  proposes  to  shew  for  what  a  city  and  in  support 
of  what  interests  they  had  died;  and  this  leads  the  speaker 
directly  to  the  essential  elements  of  the  Athenian  com- 
munity. He  goes  on  to  paint  the  character  of  Athens,  and 
what  he  says  is  most  profoundly  thoughtful,  as  well  as  most 
just  and  true.  "  We  love  the  beautiful,"  he  says,  "  but 
without  ostentation  or  extravagance;  we  philosophize  with- 
out being  seduced  thereby  into  effeminacy  and  inactivity 
(for  when  men  give  themselves  up  to  Thought,  they  get 
further  and  further  from  the  Practical — from  activity  for  the 
public,  for  the  common  weal).  We  are  bold  and  daring ; 
but  this  courageous  energy  in  action  does  not  prevent  us 
from  giving  ourselves  an  account  of  what  we  undertake  (we 
have  a  clear  consciousness  respecting  it) ;  among  other 
nations,  on  the  contrary,  martial  daring  has  its  basis  in 
deficiency  of  culture :  we  know  best  how  to  distinguish 
between  the  agreeable  and  the  irksome;  notwithstanding 
which,  we  do  not  shrink  from  perils."  Thus  Athens  ex- 
hibited the  spectacle  of  a  state  whose  existence  was  essen- 
tially directed  to  realizing  the  Beautiful,  which  had  a 
thoroughly  cultivated  consciousness  respecting  the  serious 
side  of  public  affairs  and  the  interests  of  Man's  Spirit  and 
Life,  and  united  with  that  consciousness,  hardy  courage  and 
practical  ability. 


SPARTA. 

HEBE  we  witness  on  the  other  hand  rigid  abstract  virtue, 
— a  life  devoted  to  the  State,  but  in  which  the  activity  and 
freedom  of  individuality  is  put  in  the  back-ground.  The 
polity  of  Sparta  is  based  on  institutions  which  do  full  justice 
to  the  interest  of  the  State,  but  whose  object  is  a  lifeless 


SECT.    II.      SPARTA.  273 

equality — not  free  movement.  The  very  first  steps  in 
Spartan  History  are  very  different  from  the  early  stages  ot 
Athenian  development.  The  Spartans  were  Dorians — the 
Athenians  lonians  ;  and  this  national  distinction  has  an 
influence  on  their  Constitution  also.  In  reference  to  the 
mode  in  which  the  Spartan  State  originated,  we  observe  that 
the  Dorians  invaded  the  Peloponnesus  with  the  Heracleidae, 
subdued  the  indigenous  tribes,  and  condemned  them  to 
slavery  ;  for  the  Helots  were  doubtless  aborigines.  The  fate 
that  had  befallen  the  Helots,  was  suffered  at  a  later  epoch 
by  the  Messenians ;  for  inhuman  severity  of  this  order  was 
innate  in  Spartan  character.  While  the  Athenians  had  a 
family-life,  and  slaves  among  them  were  inmates  of  the 
house,  the  relation  of  the  Spartans  to  the  subjugated  race 
was  one  of  even  greater  harshness  than  that  of  the  Turks  to 
the  Greeks  ;  a  state  of  warfare  was  constantly  kept  up  in 
Lacedsemon.  In  entering  upon  office,  the  Ephors  made  an 
unreserved  declaration  of  war  against  the  Helots,  and  the 
latter  were  habitually  given  up  to  the  younger  Spartans  to 
be  practised  upon  in  their  martial  exercises.  The  Helots 
were  on  some  occasions  set  free,  and  fought  against  the 
enemy  ;  moreover,  they  displayed  extraordinary  valour  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Spartans ;  but  on  their  return  they  were 
butchered  in  the  most  cowardly  and  insidious  way.  As  in 
a  slave-ship  the  crew  are  constantly  armed,  and  the  greatest 
care  is  taken  to  prevent  an  insurrection,  so  the  Spartans 
exercised  a  constant  vigilance  over  the  Helots,  and  were 
always  in  a  condition  of  war,  as  against  enemies. 

Property  in  land  was  divided,  even  according  to  the.  con- 
stitution of  Lycurgus  (as  Plutarch  relates)  into  equal  parts, 
of  which  9000  only  belonged  to  the  Spartans — i.e.,  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city — and  30,000  to  the  Lacedaemonians" 
or  Period.  At  the  same  time  it  was  appointed,  in  order  to 
maintain  this  equality,  that  the  portions  of  ground  should 
not  be  sold.  But  how  little  such  an  institution  avails  to 
effect  its  object,  is  proved  by  the  fact,  that  in  the  sequel 
Lacedaemon  owed  its  ruin  chiefly  to  the  inequality  of  pos 
sessions.  As  daughters  were  capable  of  inheriting,  many 
estates  had  come  by  marriage  into  the  possession  of  a  few 
families,  and  at  last  all  the  landed  property  was  in  the  hands 
of  a  limited  number ;  ad  if  to  shew  how  foolish  it  is  to 

f 


274  PAET  II.  THE  GEEEK  WOELD. 

attempt  a  forced  equality, — an  attempt  which,  while  in- 
effective in  realizing  its  professed  object,  is  also  destructive 
of  a  most  essential  point  of  liberty — the  free  disposition  of 
property.  Another  remarkable  feature  in  the  legislation  of 
Lycurgus,  is  his  forbidding  all  money  except  that  made  of 
iron — an  enactment  which  necessitated  the  abolition  of  all 
foreign  business  and  traffic.  The  Spartans  moreover  had  no 
naval  force — a  force  indispensable  to  the  support  and  fui> 
therance  of  commerce  ;  and  on  occasions  when  such  a  force 
was  required,  they  had  to  apply  to  the  Persians  for  it. 

It  was  with  an  especial  view  to  promote  similarity  of  man- 
ners, and  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  of  the  citizens  with 
each  other,  that  the  Spartans  had  meals  in  common — a 
community,  however,  which  disparaged  family  life;  for 
eating  and  drinking  is  a  private  affair,  and  consequently 
belongs  to  domestic  retirement.  It  was  so  regarded  among 
the  Athenians  ;  with,  them  association  was  not  material  but 
spiritual,  and  even  their  banquets,  as  we  see  from  Xenophon 
and  Plato,  had  an  intellectual  tone.  Among  the  Spartans, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  costs  of  the  common  meal  were  met 
by  the  contributions  of  the  several  members,  and  he  who 
was  too  poor  to  offer  such  a  contribution  was  consequently 
excluded. 

As  to  the  Political  Constitution  of  Sparta,  its  basis  may 
be  called  democratic,  but  with  considerable  modifications 
which  rendered  it  almost  an  Aristocracy  and  Oligarchy.  At 
the  head  of  the  State  were  two  Kings,  at  whose  side  was  a 
Senate  (yepovo-m),  chosen  from  the  best  men  of  the  State, 
and  which  also  performed  the  functions  of  a  court  of  justice — 
deciding  rather  in  accordance  with  moral  and  legal  customs, 
than  with  written  laws.*  The  yepovaia  was  also  the  highest 
State-Council — the  Council  of  the  Kings,  regulating  the 
most  important  affairs.  Lastly,  one  of  the  highest  magis- 
tracies was  that  of  the  Eplwrs,  respecting  whose  election  we 
have  no  definite  information ;  Aristotle  says  that  the  mode 
of  choice  was  exceedingly  childish.  "We  learn  from  Aristotle 

*  Otfried  Miiller,  in  his  History  of  the  Dorians,  gives  too  dignified  an 
aspect  to  tliis  fact ;  he  says  that  Justice  was,  as  it  were,  imprinted  on 
their  minds.  But  such  an  imprinting1  is  always  something  indefinite  ; 
laws  must  be  written,  that  it  may  be  distinctly  known  what  w  foii/iddeii 
»nd  w/jftt  is  allowed. 


6ECT.  II.   SPARTA.  273 

that  even  persons  without  nobility  or  property  could  attain 
this  dignity.  The  Ephors  had  full  authority  to  convoke 
popular  assemblies,  to  put  resolutions  to  the  vote,  and  to 
propose  laws,  almost  in  the  same  way  as  the  tribuni  plebis  in 
Borne.  Their  power  became  tyrannical,  like  that  which 
Bobespierre  and  his  party  exercised  for  a  time  in  France. 

While  the  Lacedaemonians  directed  their  entire  attention 
to  the  State,  Intellectual  Culture — Art  and  Science — was  not 
domiciled  among  them.  The  Spartans  appeared  to  the  rest 
of  the  Greeks,  stiff,  coarse,  awkward  beings,  who  could  not 
transact  business  involving  any  degree  of  intricacy,  or  at 
least  performed  it  very  clumsily.  Thucydides  makes  the 
Athenians  say  to  the  Spartans :  "  You  have  laws  and  cus- 
toms which  have  nothing  in  common  with  others ;  and 
besides  this,  you  proceed,  when  you  go  into  other  countries^, 
neither  in  accordance  with  these,  nor  with  the  traditionary 
usages  of  Hellas."  In  their  intercourse  at  home,  they  were, 
on  the  whole,  honourable ;  but  as  regarded  their  conduct 
towards  other  nations,  they  themselves  plainly  declared  that 
they  held  their  own  good  pleasure  for  the  Commendable, 
and  what  was  advantageous  for  the  Bight.  It  is  well  known 
that  in  Sparta  (as  was  also  the  case  in  Egypt)  the  taking 
away  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  under  certain  conditions, 
was  permitted ;  only  the  thief  must  not  allow  himself 
to  be  discovered.  Thus  the  two  States,  Athens  and  Sparta, 
stand  in  contrast  with  each  other.  The  morality  of  the  latter 
is  rigidly  directed  to  the  maintenance  of  the  State;  in  the 
former  we  find  a  similar  ethical  relation,  but  with  a  cultivated 
consciousness,  and  boundless  activity  in  the  production  of 
the  Beautiful, — subsequently,  of  the  True  also. 

This  Greek  morality,  though  extremely  beautiful,  attrac- 
tive and  interesting  in  its  manifestation,  is  not  the 
highest  point  of  view  for  Spiritual  self-consciousness.  It 
wants  the  form  of  Infinity,  the  reflection  of  thought  within 
itself,  the  emancipation  from  the  Natural  element — (the  Sen- 
suous that  lurks  in  the  character  of  Beauty  and  Divinity  [as 
comprehended  by  the  Greeks])  —  and  from  that  imme- 
diacy, [that  undeveloped  simplicity,]  which  attaches  to  their 
ethics.  Self- Comprehension  on  the  part  of  Thought  is  want- 
ing— illimitable  Self-Consciousness — demanding,  that  what  is 
regarded  by  uie  as  Bight  and  Morality  should  have  its  con- 

T  2 


276  PART  II.       THE    GREEK.  WORLD. 

firmation  in  myself— from  the  testimony  of  my  own  Spirit ; 
ibat  the  Beautiful  (the  Idea  as  manifested  in  sensuous  con- 
templation or  conception)  may  also  become  the  True— an 
inner,  supersensuoua  world.  The  stand-point  occupied  by 
that  ^Esthetic  Spiritual  Unity  which  we  have  just  described, 
could  not  long  be  the  resting-place  of  Spirit;  and  the 
element  in  which  farther  advance  and  corruption  originated, 
was  that  of  Subjectivity — inward  morality,  individual  reflec- 
tion, and  an  inner  life  generally.  The  perfect  bloom  of  Greek 
Life  lasted  only  about  sixty  years — from  the  Median  wars,  B.C. 
492,  to  the  Peloponnesian  '"War,  B.C.  431.  The  principle  of 
subjective  morality  which  was  inevitably  introduced,  became 
the  germ  of  corruption,  which,  however,  shewed  itself  in  a 
diiferent  form  in  Athens  from  that  which  it  assumed  in 
Sparta :  in  Athens,  as  levity  in  public  conduct,  in  Sparta,  as 
private  depravation  of  morals.  In  their  fall,  the  Athenians 
shewed  themselves  not  only  amiable,  but  great  and  noble — 
to  such  a  degree  that  we  cannot  but  lament  it ;  among  the 
Spartans,  on  the  contrary,  the  principle  of  subjectivity 
develops  itself  in  vulgar  greed,  and  issues  in  vulgar  ruin. 


THE  PELOPONNESIAN  WAR. 

THE  principle  of  corruption  displayed  itself  first  in  the 
external  political  development — in  the  contest  of  the  states 
of  Greece  with  each  other,  and  the  struggle  of  factions  within 
the  cities  themselves.  The  Greek  Morality  had  made  Hellas 
unfit  to  form  one  common  state  ;  for  the  dissociation  of 
small  states  from  each  other,  and  the  concentration  in  cities, 
where  the  interest  and  the  spiritual  culture  pervading  tho 
whole,  could  be  identical,  was  the  necessary  condition  of 
that  grade  of  Freedom  which  the  Greeks  occupied.  It  was 
only  a  momentary  combination  that  occurred  in  the  Trojan 
War,  and  even  in  the  Median  wars  a  union  could  not  be 
accomplished.  Although  the  tendency  towards  such  a  union 
is  discoverable,  the  bond  was  but  weak,  its  permanence  was 
always  endangered  by  jealousy,  and  the  contest  for  the 
Hegemony  set  the  States  at  variance  with  each  other.  A 
general  outbreak  of  hostilities  in  the  Peloponnesian  War 
was  the  consummation.  Before  it,  and  even  at  its  corn- 


SECT.    II.      THE   PELOPONNESIA.N   WAK.  277 

mencement,  Pericles  was  at  the  head  of  the  Athenian  nation 
— that  people  most  jealous  of  its  liberty ;  it  was  only  his 
elevated  personality  and  great  genius  that  enabled  him  to 
maintain  his  position.  After  the  wars  with  the  Mede, 
Athens  enjoyed  the  Hegemony  ;  a  number  of  allies — partly 
islands,  partly  towns— were  obliged  to  contribute  to  the 
supplies  required  for  continuing  the  war  against  the  Per- 
sians ;  and  instead  of  the  contribution  being  made  in  the 
form  of  fleets  or  troops,  the  subsidy  was  paid  in  money. 
Thereby  an  immense  power  was  concentrated  in  Athens  ;  a 
part  of  the  money  was  expended  in  great  architectural 
works,  in  the  enjoyment  of  which,  since  they  were  products 
of  Spirit,  the  allies  had  some  share.  But  that  Pericles  did 
not  devote  the  whole  of  the  money  to  works  of  Art,  but  also 
made  provision  for  the  Demos  in  other  ways,  was  evident 
after  his  death,  from  the  quantity  of  stores  amassed  in 
several  magazines,  but  especially  in  the  naval  arsenal. 
Xenophon  says:  "  Who  does  not  stand  in  need  of  Athens  ? 
Is  she  not  indispensable  to  all  lands  that  are  rich  in  corn 
and  herds,  in  oil  and  wine — to  all  who  wish  to  traffic  either 
in  money  or  in  mind? — to  craftsmen,  sophists,  philosophers, 
poets,  and  all  who  desire  what  is  worth  seeing  or  hearing 
in  sacred  and  public  matters  ?" 

In  the  Peloponnesian  War,  the  struggle  was  essen- 
tially between  Athens  and  Sparta.  Thucydides  has  left  us 
the  history  of  the  greater  part  of  it,  and  his  immortal  work 
is  the  absolute  gain  which  humanity  has  derived  from  that 
contest.  Athens  allowed  herself  to  be  hurried  into  the 
extravagant  projects  of  Alcibiades;  and  when  these  had 
already  much  weakened  her,  she  was  compelled  to  suc- 
cumb to  the  Spartans,  who  were  guilty  of  the  treachery  of 
applying  for  aid  to  Persia,  and  who  obtained  from  the  King 
supplies  of  money  and  a  naval  force.  They  were  also  guilty 
of  a  still  more  extensive  treason,  in  abolishing  democracy  in 
Athens  and  in  the  cities  of  Greece  generally,  and  in  giving 
a  preponderance  to  factions  that  desired  oligarchy,  but  were 
not  strong  enough  to  maintain  themselves  without  foreign 
assistance.  Lastly,  in  the  peace  of  Antalcidas,  Sparta  put 
the  finishing  stroke  to  her  treachery,  by  giving  over  the 
Greek  cities  in  Asia  Minor  to  Persian  dominion. 

Laeedaemon  had  therefore,  both  by  the  oligarchies  whicli 


278          PAKT  II.   THE  GREEK  WOELD. 

it  had  set  up  in  various  countries,  and  by  the  garrisons 
which  it  maintained  in  some  cities— as,  e.g.,  Thebes — ob- 
tained a  great  preponderance  in  Greece.  But  the  Greek 
states  were  far  more  incensed  at  Spartan  oppression  than 
they  had  previously  been  at  Athenian  supremacy.  With 
Thebes  at  their  head,  they  cast  off  the  yoke,  and  the  Thebans 
became  for  a  moment  the  most  distinguished  people  iu 
Hellas.  But  it  was  to  two  distinguished  men  among  its 
citizens  that  Thebes  owed  its  entire  power— Pelopidas  and 
Epaminondas ;  as  for  the  most  part  in  that  state  we  iind  the 
Subjective  preponderant.  In  accordance  with  this  principle, 
Lyrical  Poetry  — that  which  is  the  expression  of  subjectivity 
— especially  flourished  there ;  a  kind  of  subjective  amenity 
of  nature  shews  itself  also  iu  the  so  called  Sacred  Legion 
which  formed  the  kernel  of  the  Theban  host,  and  was  re- 
garded as  consisting  of  persons  connected  by  amatory  bonds 
[amantes  and  amati]  ;  while  the  influence  of  subjectivity 
among  them  was  especially  proved  by  the  fact,  that  after  the 
death  of  Epaminondas,  Thebes  fell  back  into  its  former 
position.  "Weakened  and  distracted,  Greece  could  no  longer 
iind  safety  in  itself,  and  needed  an  authoritative  prop.  In 
the  towns  there  were  incessant  contests  ;  the  citizens  were 
divided  into  factions,  as  in  the  Italian  cities  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  The  victory  of  one  party  entailed  the  banishment  of 
the  other ;  the  latter  then  usually  applied  to  the  enemies  of 
their  native  city,  to  obtain  their  aid  in  subjugating  it  by 
force  of  arms.  The  various  States  could  no  longer  co-exist 
peaceably  :  they  prepared  ruin  for  each  other,  as  well  as  for 
themselves. 

We  have,  then,  now  to  investigate  the  corruption  of  the 
Greek  world  in  its  profounder  import,  and  may  denote  the 
principle  of  that  corruption  as  subjectivity  obtaining  emanci- 
pation for  itself.  We  see  Subjectivity  obtruding  itself  in 
various  ways.  Thought  —  the  subjectively  Universal  — 
menaces  the  beautiful  religion  of  Greece,  while  the  passions 
of  individuals  and  their  caprice  menace  its  political  constitu- 
tion. In  short,  Subjectivity,  comprehending  and  mani- 
festing itself,  threatens  the  existing  state  of  things  in  every 
department — characterized  as  that  state  of  things  is  by 
Immediacy  [a  primitive,  unreflecting  simplicity].  Thought, 
therefore,  appears  here  as  the  principle  of  decay — decay,  viz. 


SECT.    II.      THE   PELOPONNE81JLN   WAB.  279 

of  Substantial  [prescriptive]  morality;  for  it  introduces 
an  antithesis,  and  asserts  essentially  rational  principles.  In 
the  Oriental  states,  in  which  there  is  no  such  antithesis, 
moral  freedom  cannot  be  realized,  since  the  highest  principle 
is  [Pure]  Abstraction.  But  when  Thought  recognizes  its 
positive  character,  as  in  Greece,  it  establishes  principles; 
and  these  bear  to  the  real  world  the  relation  of  Essence  to 
Form.  For  the  concrete  vitality  found  among  the  Greeks, 
is  Customary  Morality— a  life  for  Eeligion,  for  the  State, 
without  farther  reflection,  and  without  analysis  leading  to  ab- 
stract definitions,  which  must  lead  away  from  the  concrete 
embodiment  of  them,  and  occupy  an  antithetical  position  to 
that  embodiment.  Law  is  part  of  the  existing  state  of  things, 
with  Spirit  implicit  in  it.  But  as  soon  as  Thought  arises, 
it  investigates  the  various  political  constitutions:  as  the 
result  of  its  investigation  it  forms  for  itself  an  idea  of  an 
improved  state  of  society,  and  demands  that  this  ideal  should 
take  the  place  of  things  as  they  are. 

In  the  principle  of  Greek  Freedom,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
Freedom,  is  involved  the  self-emancipation  of  Thought.  We 
observed  the  dawn  of  Thought  in  the  circle  of  men  men- 
tioned above  under  their  well-known  appellation  of  the  Seven 
Sages.  It  was  they  who  first  uttered  general  propositions ; 
though  at  that  time  wisdom  consisted  rather  in  a  concrete 
insight  [into  things,  than  in  the  power  of  abstract  conception]. 
Parallel  with  the  advance  in  the  development  of  Eeligious 
Art  and  with  political  growth,  we  find  a  progressive 
strengthening  of  Thought,  its  enemy  and  destroyer ;  and  at 
the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian  War  science  was  already 
developed.  With  the  Sophists  began  the  process  of  reflec- 
tion on  the  existing  state  of  things,  and  of  ratiocination. 
That  very  diligence  and  activity  which  we  observed  among 
the  Greeks  in  their  practical  lii'e,  and  in  the  achievement  of 
works  of  art,  shewed  itself  also  in  the  turns  and  windings 
which  these  ideas  took  ;  so  that,  as  material  things  are 
changed,  worked  up  and  used  for  other  than  their  original 
purposes,  similarly  the  essential  being  of  Spirit — what  is 
thought  and  known — isvariously  handled;  itis  made  an  object 
about  which  the  mind  can  employ  itself,  and  this  occupation 
becomes  an  interest  in  and  for  itself.  The  movement  of 
Thought — that  which  goes  on  within  its  sphere  [without 


280  PART  n.      THE  GIIEEK  WORLD". 

reference  to  an  extrinsic  object] — a  process  which  had  for- 
merly no  interest — acquires  attractiveness  on  its  own  ac- 
count. The  cultivated  Sophists,  who  were  not  erudite  or 
scientific  men,  but  masters  of  subtle  turns  of  thought, 
excited  the  admiration  of  the  Greeks.  For  all  questions 
they  had  an  answer ;  for  all  interests  of  a  political  or  re- 
ligious order  they  had  general  points  of  view ;  and  in  the 
ultimate  development  of  their  art,  they  claimed  the  ability 
to  prove  everything,  to  discover  a  justifiable  side  in  every 
position.  In  a  democracy  it  is  a  matter  of  the  first  importance, 
to  be  able  to  speak  in  popular  assemblies — to  urge  one's 
opinions  on  public  matters.  Now  this  demands  the  power 
of  duly  presenting  before  them  that  point  of  view  which  we 
desire  them  to  regard  as  essential.  For  such  a  purpose, 
intellectual  culture  is  needed,  and  this  discipline  the  Greeks 
acquired  under  their  Sophists.  This  mental  culture  then 
became  the  means,  in  the  hands  of  those  who  possessed  it, 
of  enforcing  their  views  and  interests  on  the  Demos :  the 
expert  Sophist  knew  how  to  turn  the  subject  of  discussion 
this  way  or  that  way  at  pleasure,  and  thus  the  doors  were 
thrown  wide  open  to  all  human  passions.  A  leading  prin- 
ciple of  the  Sophists  was,  that  "  Man  is  the  measure  of  all 
things ; "  but  in  this,  as  in  all  their  apophthegms,  lurks  an 
ambiguity,  since  the  term  "Man"  may  denote  Spirit  in  its 
depth  and  truth,  or  in  the  aspect  of  mere  caprice  and 
private  interest.  The  Sophists  meant  Man  simply  as  sub- 
jective, and  intended  in  this  dictum  of  theirs,  that  mere 
liking  was  the  principle  of  Eight,  and  that  advantage  to  the 
individual  was  the  ground  of  final  appeal.  This  Sophistic  prin- 
ciple appears  again  and  again,  though  under  different  forms, 
in  various  periods  of  History;  thus  even  in  our. own  times 
subjective  opinion  of  what  is  right — mere  feeling — is  made 
the  ultimate  ground  of  decision. 

In  Beauty,  as  the  Greek  principle,  there  was  a  concrete 
unity  of  Spirit,  united  with  Reality,  with  Country  and 
Family,  &c.  In  this  unity  no  fixed  point  of  view  had 
as  yet  been  adopted  within  the  Spirit  itself,  and  Thought, 
as  far  as  it  transcended  this  unity,  was  still  swayed  by  mere 
Liking ;  [the  Beautiful,  the  Becoming  (TO  irplirov)  conducted 
men  in  the  path  of  moral  propriety,  but  apart  from  this  they 
bad  no  firm  abstract  principle  of  Truth  and  Virtue].  But 


SECT.    II.      THE    PELOPONNESIAtf   WAB.  281 

Anaxagoras  himself  had  taught,  that  Thought  itself  was  the 
absolute  Essence  of  the  World.  And  it  was  in  Socrates,  that 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  "War,  the  principle  of 
subjectivity — of  the  absolute  inherent  independence  of 
.Thought — attained  free  expression.  He  taught  that  man 
has  to  discover  and  recognize  in  himself  what  is  the  Bight 
and  Good,  and  that  this  Eight  and  Good  is  in  its  nature 
universal.  Socrates  is  celebrated  as  a  Teacher  of  Morality, 
but  we  should  rather  call  him  the  Inventor  of  Morality.  The 
Greeks  had  a  customary  morality  ;  but  Socrates  undertook 
to  teach  them  what  moral  virtues,  duties,  &c.  were.  The 
moral  man  is  not  he  who  merely  wills  and  does  that  which 
is  right — not  the  merely  innocent  man — but  he  who  has 
the  consciousness  of  what  he  is  doing. 

Socrates — in  assigning  to  insight,  to  conviction,  the  deter- 
mination of  men's  actions — posited  the  Individual  as  capable 
of  a  final  moral  decision,  in  contraposition  to  Country  and 
to  Customary  Morality,  and  thus  made  himself  an  Oracle, 
in  the  Greek  sense.  He  said  that  he  had  a  Bat^ovto*/  within 
him,  which  counselled  him  what  to  do,  and  revealed  to  him 
what  was  advantageous  to  his  friends.  The  rise  of  the 
inner  world  of  Subjectivity  was  the  rupture  with  the  existing 
Beality.  Though  Socrates  himself  continued  to  perform  his 
duties  as  a  citizen,  it  was  not  the  actual  State  and  its  re- 
ligion, but  the  world  of  Thought  that  was  his  true  home. 
Now  the  question  of  the  existence  and  nature  of  the  gods 
came  to  be  discussed.  The  disciple  of  Socrates,  Plato,  ban* 
ishedfrom  his  ideal  state,  Homer  and  Hesiod,  the  originators 
of  that  mode  of  conceiving  of  religious  objects  which  pre- 
vailed among  the  Greeks  ;  for  he  desiderated  a  higher  con- 
ception of  what  was  to  be  reverenced  as  divine — one  more 
in  harmony  with  Thought.  Many  citizens  now  seceded  from 
practical  and  political  life,  to  live  in  the  ideal  world.  The 
principle  of  Socrates  manifests  a  revolutionary  aspect  towards 
the  Athenian  State  ;  for  the  peculiarity  of  this  State  was, 
that  Customary  Morality  was  the  form  in  which  its  existence 
was  moulded,  viz. — an  inseparable  connection  of  Thought 
with  actual  life.  When  Socrates  wishes  to  induce  his  friends  to 
reflection,  the  discourse  has  always  a  negative  tone ;  he 
brings  them  to  the  consciousness  that  they  do  not  know 
what  the  Eight  is.  But  when  on  accoint  of  the  giving 


282  PABT   II.      THE   GREEK  WOfcLD. 

utterance  to  tliat  principle  which  was  advancing  to  re- 
cognition,  Socrates  is  condemned  to  death,  the  sentence 
bears  on  the  one  hand  the  aspect  of  unimpeachable  rectitude 
— inasmuch  as  the  Athenian  people  condemns  its  deadliest 
foe — but  on  the  other  hand,  that  of  a  deeply  tragical  cha- 
racter, inasmuch  as  the  Athenians  had  to  make  the  dis- 
covery, that  what  they  reprobated  in  Socrates  had  already 
struck  firm  root  among  themselves,  and  that  they  must  be 
pronounced  guilty  or  innocent  with  him.  "With  this  feeling 
they  condemned  the  accusers  of  Socrates,  and  declared  him 
guiltless.  In  Athens  that  higher  principle  which  proved  thox 
ruin  of  the  Athenian  state,  advanced  in  its  development 
without  intermission.  Spirit  had  acquired  the  propensity  to 
gain  satisfaction  for  itself — to  reflect^  Even  in  decay  the 
Spirit  of  Athens  appears  majestic,  because  it  manifests  itself 
as  the  free,  the  liberal — exhibiting  its  successive  phases  in 
their  pure  idiosyncrasy — in  that  form  in  which  they  really 
exist.  Amiable  and  cheerful  even  in  the  midst  of  tragedy 
is  the  light-heartedness  and  nonchalance  with  which  the  Athe- 
nians accompany  their  [national]  morality  to  its  grave.  We 
recognize  the  higher  interest  of  the  new  culture  in  the  fact 
that  the  people  made  themselves  merry  over  their  own 
follies,  and  found  great  entertainment  in  the  comedies  of 
Aristophanes,  which  have  the  severest  satire  for  their  con- 
tents, while  they  bear  the  stamp  of  the  most  unbridled 
mirth. 

In  Sparta  the  same  corruption  is  introduced,  since  the 
social  unit  seeks  to  assert  his  individuality  against  the 
moral  life  of  the  community  :  but  there  we  have  merely  the 
isolated  side  of  particular  subjectivity — corruption  in  its  un- 
disguised form,  blank  immorality,  vulgar  selfishness  and 
venality.  All  these  passions  manifest  themselves  in  Sparta, 
especially  in  the  persons  of  its  generals,  who,  for  the 
most  part  living  at  a  distance  from  their  country,  obtain  an 
opportunity  of  securing  advantages  at  the  expense  of  their 
own  state  as  well  as  of  those  to  whose  assistance  they  are 
scut. 


SECT.   II.      THE   MACEDONIAN  EMPIRE.  283 


THE  MACEDONIAN  EMPIRE. 

AFTER  the  fall  of  Athens,  Sparta  took  upon  herself  the 
Hegemony ;  but  misused  it— as  already  mentioned — so 
selfishly,  that  she  was  universally  hated.  Thebes  could  not 
long  sustain  the  part  of  humiliating  Sparta,  and  was  at  last 
exhausted  in  the  war  with  the  Phocians.  The  Spartans  and 
the  Phocians — the  former  because  they  had  surprised  the 
citadel  of  Thebes,  the  latter  because  they  had  tilled  a  piece 
of  land  belonging  to  the  Delphian  Apollo — had  been  sen- 
tenced to  pay  considerable  sums  of  money.  Both  states 
however  refused  payment ;  for  the  Amphictyonic  Council 
had  not  much  more  authority  than  the  old  German  Diet, 
which  the  German  princes  obeyed  only  so  far  as  suited  their 
inclination.  The  Phocians  were  then  to  be  punished  by  the 
Thebans ;  but  by  an  egregious  piece  of  violence— by  dese- 
crating and  plundering  the  temple  at  Delphi — the  former 
attained  momentary  superiority.  This  deed  completes  the 
ruin  of  Greece ;  the  sanctuary  was  desecrated,  the  god  so  to 
speak,  killed  ;  the  last  support  of  unity  was  thereby  anni- 
hilated ;  reverence  for  that  which  in  Greece  had  been  as  it 
were  always  the  final  arbiter  —its  monarchical  principle — was 
displaced,  insulted,  and  trodden  under  foot. 

The  next  step  in  advance  is  then  that  quite  simple  one,  that 
the  place  of  the  dethroned  oracle  should  be  taken  by  another 
deciding  will— a  real  authoritative  royalty.  The  foreign  Ma- 
cedonian King — Philip — undertook  to  avenge  the  violation 
of  the  oracle,  and  forthwith  took  its  place,  by  making  him- 
self lord  of  Greece.  Philip  reduced  under  his  dominion  the 
Hellenic  States,  and  convinced  them  that  it  was  all  over 
with  their  independence,  and  that  they  could  no  longer 
maintain  their  own  footing.  The  charge  of  littleness,  harsh- 
ness, violence,  and  political  treachery — all  those  hateful 
characteristics  with  which  Philip  has  so  often  been  re- 
proached— did  not  extend  to  the  young  Alexander,  when  he 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Greeks.  He  had  no  need 
to  incur  such  reproaches ;  he  had  not  to  form  a  military 
force,  for  he  found  one  already  in  existence.  As  he  had 
only  to  mount  Bucephalus,  and  take  the  rein  in  hand, 
to  make  him  obsequious  to  his  will,  just  so  he  found  that 
Macedonian  phalanx  prepared  for  his  purpose — that  rigid 


284  PAET   II.      THE    GREEK   WOELD. 

well-trained  iron  mass,  the  power  of  which  had  been 
demonstrated  under  Philip,  who  copied  it  from  Epami- 
nondas. 

Alexander  had  been  educated  by  the  deepest  and  also  the 
most  comprehensive  thinker  of  antiquity — Aristotle;  and  the 
education  was  worthy  of  the  man  who  had  undertaken  it. 
Alexander  was  initiated  into  the  profoundest  metaphysics  : 
therefore  his  nature  was  thoroughly  refined  and  liberated  from 
thecustomary  bonds  of  mere  opinion,  crudities  andidle  fancies. 
Aristotle  left  this  grand  nature  as  untrammelled  as  it  was 
before  his  instructions  commenced ;  but  impressed  upon  it  a 
deep  perception  of  what  the  True  is,  and  formed  the  spirit 
which  nature  had  so  richly  endowed,  to  a  plastic  being,  rolling 
freely  like  an  orb  through  its  circumambient  aether. 

Thus  accomplished,  Alexander  placed  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  Hellenes,  in  order  to  lead  Greece  over  into  Asia.  A 
youth  of  twenty,  he  commanded  a  thoroughly  experienced 
army,  whose  generals  were  all  veterans,  well  versed  in  the 
art  of  war.  It  was  Alexander's  aim  to  avenge  Greece  for  all 
that  Asia  had  inflicted  upon  it  for  so  many  years,  and  to 
fight  out  at  last  the  ancient  feud  and  contest  Tbetween  the 
East  and  the  West,  While  in  this  struggle  he  retaliated 
upon  the  Oriental  world  what  Greece  had  suffered  from  it, 
he  also  made  a  return  for  the  rudiments  of  culture  which 
had  been  derived  thence,  by  spreading  the  maturity  and 
culmination  of  that  culture  over  the  East ;  and,  as  it  were, 
changed  the  stamp  of  subjugated  Asia  and  assimilated  it 
to  an  Hellenic  land.  The  grandeur  and  the  interest  of  this 
work  were  proportioned  to  his  genius, — to  his  peculiar 
youthful  individuality, — the  like  of  which  in  so  beautiful  a 
form  we  have  not  seen  a  second  time  at  the  head  of  such  an 
undertaking.  For  not  only  were  the  genius  of  a  commander, 
the  greatest  spirit,  and  consummate  bravery  united  in  him, 
but  all  these  qualities  were  dignified  by  the  beauty  of  his 
character  as  a  man  and  an  individual.  Though  his  generals 
are  devoted  to  him,  they  had  been  the  long  tried  servants  of 
his  father  ;  and  this  made  his  position  difficult :  for  his  great- 
ness and  youth  is  a  humiliation  to  them,  as  inclined  to  re- 
gard themselves  and  the  achievements  of  the  past,  as  a  com- 
plete work  ;  so  that  while  their  envy,  as  in  Clitus'a  case,  arose 
to  blind  rage,  Alexander  also  was  excited  to  great  violence. 


SECT.    II.      THE    MACEDONIAN   EMPIRE.  2S5 

Alexander's  expedition  to  Asia  was  at  the  same  time  a 
journey  of  discovery  ;  for  it  was  he  who  first  opened  the 
Oriental  World  to  the  Europeans,  and  penetrated  into 
countries — as  e.  g.  Bactria,  Sogdiana,  northern  India — which 
have  since  been  hardly  visited  by*Europeans.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  march,  and  not  less  the  military  genius  dis- 
played in  the  disposition  of  battles,  and  in  tactics  generally, 
will  always  remain  an  object  of  admiration.  He  was  great 
as  a  commander  in  battles,  wise  in  conducting  marches  and 
marshalling  troops,  and  the  bravest  soldier  in  the  thick  of  the 
fight.  Even  the  death  of  Alexander,  which  occurred  at 
Babylon  in  the  three  and  thirtieth  year  of  his  age,  gives  us  a 
beautiful  spectacle  of  his  greatness,  and  shews  in  what  rela- 
tion he  stood  to  his  army :  for  he  takes  leave  of  it  with  the 
perfect  consciousness  of  his  dignity, 

Alexander  had  the  good  fortune  to  die  at  the  proper  time; 
i.  e.  it  may  be  called  good  fortune,  but  it  is  rather  a  neces- 
sity. That  he  may  stand  before  the  eyes  of  posterity  as  a 
youth,  an  early  death  must  hurry  him  away.  Achilles,  as 
remarked  above,  begins  the  Greek  World,  and  his  antitype 
Alexander  concludes  it :  and  these  youths  not  only  supply  a 
picture  of  the  fairest  kind  in  their  own  persons,  but  at  the 
same  time  afford  a  complete  and  perfect  type  of  Hellenic 
existence.  Alexander  finished  his  work  and  completed  his 
ideal ;  and  thus  bequeathed  to  the  world  one  of  the  noblest 
and  most  brilliant  of  visions,  which  our  poor  reflections  only 
serve  to  obscure.  For  the  great  World- Historical  form  of 
Alexander,  the  modern  standard  applied  by  recent  historical 
"  Philistines" — that  of  virtue  or  morality — will  by  no  means 
suffice.  And  if  it  be  alleged  in  depreciation  of  'his  merit, 
that  he  had  no  successor,  and  left  behind  no  dynasty,  we 
may  remark  that  the  Greek  kingdoms  that  arose  in  Asia 
after  him,  are  his  dynasty.  For  two  years  he  was  engaged 
in  a  campaign  in  Bactria,  which  brought  him  into  contact  with 
the  MassagetaB  and  Scythians  ;  and  there  arose  the  Grseco* 
Bactrian  kingdom  which  lasted  for  two  centuries.  Thence  the 
Greeks  came  into  connection  with  India,  and  even  with 
China.  The  Greek  dominion  spread  itself  over  northern 
India,  and  Sandrokottus  (Chandraguptas)  is  mentioned  as 
the  first  who  emancipated  himself  from  it.  The  same  name 
presents  itself  indeed  among  the  Hindoos,  but  for  reasons 
already  stated,  we  can  place  very  little  dependence  upon 


286  PART  II.   THE  GREEK  WORLD. 

ruch  mention.  Other  Greek  Kingdoms  arose  in  Asia 
Minor,  in  Armenia,  in  Syria  and  Babylonia.  But  Egypt  es- 
pecially, among  the  kingdoms  of  the  successors  of  Alexander, 
became  a  great  centre  of  science  and  art ;  for  a  great  num- 
ber of  its  architectural  works  belong  to  the  time  of  the 
Ptolemies,  as  has  been  made  out  from  the  deciphered  in- 
scriptions. Alexandria  became  the  chief  centre  of  com- 
merce —  the  point  of  union  for  Eastern  manners  and  tradi- 
tion with  Western  civilization.  Besides  these,  the  Mace- 
donian Kingdom,  that  of  Thrace,  stretching  beyond  the 
Danube,  that  of  Illyria,  and  that  of  Epirus,  flourished  under 
the  sway  of  Greek  princes. 

Alexander  was  also  extraordinarily  attached  to  the  sciences, 
and  he  is  celebrated  as  next  to  Pericles  the  most  liberal  patron 
of  the  arts.  Meier  says  in  his  History  of  Art,  that  his  in- 
telligent love  of  art  would  have  secured  him  an  immortality 
of  fame  not  less  than  his  conquests. 


SECTION  III. 

THE  FALL  OF  THE  GREEK  SPIRIT. 

THIS  third  period  in  the  history  of  the  Hellenic  World, 
which  embraces  the  protracted  development  of  the  evil  destiny 
of  Greece,  interests  us  less.  Those  who  had  been  Alexan- 
der's Generals,  now  assuming  an  independent  appearance 
on  the  stage  of  history  as  Kings,  carried  on  long  wars  with 
each  other,  and  experienced,  almost  all  of  them,  the  most 
romantic  revolutions  of  fortune.  Especially  remarkable  and 
prominent  in  this  respect  is  the  life  of  Demetrius  Poli- 
orcetes. 

In  Greece  the  States  had  preserved  their  existence- 
brought  to  a  consciousness  of  their  weakness  by  Philip  and 
Alexander,  they  contrived  to  enjoy  an  apparent  vitality,  and 
boasted  of  an  unreal  independence.  That  self-consciousness 
which  independence  confers,  they  could  not  have  ;  and  diplo- 
matic statesmen  took  the  lead  in  the  several  States — orators 
who  were  not  at  the  same  time  generals,  as  was  the  case 
formerly — e.g.  in  the  person  of  Pericles.  The  countries  of 
Greece  now  assume  various  relations  to  the  different  mo- 


SECT.    III.      THE    FALL   OF   THE    OBEEK   SPIEIT.       287 

narchs,  who  continued  to  contend  for  the  sovereignty  of 
the  Greek  States — partly  also  for  their  favour,  especially  for 
that  of  Athens  :  for  Athens  still  presented  an  imposing  figure, 
— if  not  as  a  Power,  yet  certainly  as  the  centre  of  the  higher 
arts  and  sciences,  especially  of  Philosophy  and  Rhetoric. 
Besides  it  kept  itself  more  free  from  the  gross  excess, 
coarseness  and  passions  which  prevailed  in  the  other  States, 
and  made  them  contemptible  ;  and  the  Syrian  and  Egyptian 
kings  deemed  it  an  honour  to  make  Athens  large  presents 
of  corn  and  other  useful  supplies.  To  some  extent  too 
the  kings  of  the  period  reckoned  it  their  greatest  glory  to 
render  and  to  keep  the  Greek  cities  and  states  independent. 
The  Emancipation  of  Greece  had  as  it  were,  become  the 
general  watch-word ;  and  it  passed  for  a  high  title  of  fame  to 
be  called  the  Deliverer  of  Greece.  If  we  examine  the  hid- 
den political  bearing  of  this  word,  we  shall  find  that  it  de- 
notes the  prevention  of  any  indigenous  Greek  State  from 
obtaining  decided  superiority,  and  keeping  all  in  a  state  ol 
weakness  by  separation  and  disorganization. 

The  special  peculiarity  by  which  each  Greek  State  was 
distinguished  from  the  others,  consisted  in  a  difference  simi- 
lar to  that  of  their  glorious  divinities,  each  one  of  whom  has 
his  particular  character  and  peculiar  being,  yet  so  that  this 
peculiarity  does  not  derogate  from  the  divinity  common  to  all. 
"When  therefore,  this  divinity  has  become  weak  and  has  van- 
ished from  the  States,  nothing  but  the  bare  particularity  re- 
mains,— the  repulsive  speciality  which  obstinately  and  way- 
wardly  asserts  itself,  and  which  on  that  very  account  assumes 
a  position  of  absolute  dependence  and  of  conflict  with  others. 
Yet  the  feeling  of  weakness  and  misery  led  to  combinations 
here  and  there.  The  Italians  and  their  allies  as  a  predatory 
people,  set  up  injustice,  violence,  fraud,  and  insolence 
to  others,  as  their  charter  of  rights.  Sparta  was  go- 
verned by  infamous  tyrants  and  odious  passions,  and  in  this 
condition  was  dependent  on  the  Macedonian  Kings.  The 
Boeotian  subjective  character  had,  after  the  extinction  ot 
Theban  glory,  sunk  down  into  indolence  and  the  vulgar  de- 
sire of  coarse  sensual  enjoyment.  The  Aclicean  league  dis- 
tinguished itself  by  the  aim  of  its  union  (the  expulsion  of 
Tyrants,)  by  rectitude  and  the  sentiment  of  community. 
But  this  too  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  the  most  coinpli- 


2SS  PA.RT    II.       THE    GEEER  WOEXD. 

cated  policy.  "What  we  see  here  on  the  whole,  is  a  diploma- 
tic condition — an  infinite  involvement  with  the  most  manifold 
foreign  interests — a  subtle  intertexture  and  play  of  parties, 
whose  threads  are  continually  being  combined  anew. 

In  the  internal  condition  of  the  states,  which,  enervated 
by  selfishness  and  debauchery,  were  broken  up  into  factions 
— each  of  which  on  the  other  hand  directs  its  attention  to  fo- 
reign lauds,  and  with  treachery  to  its  native  country  begs  for 
the  favour  of  the  Kings — the.point  of  interest  is  no  longer  the 
fate  of  these  states,  but  the  great  individuals,  who  arise  amid 
the  general  corruption,  and  honourably  devote  themselves  to 
their  country.  They  appear  as  great  tragic  characters,  who 
with  their  genius,  and  the  most  intense  exertion,  are  yet  un- 
able to  extirpate  the  evils  in  question ;  and  perish  in  the  strug- 
gle, without  having  had  the  satisfactiou  of  restoring  to  their 
Fatherland,  repose,  order  and  freedom,  nay,  even  without 
having  secured  a  reputation  with  posterity  free  from  all  stain. 
Livy  savs  in  his  prefatory  remarks  :  "  In  our  times  we  can 
neither  endure  our  faults  nor  the  means  of  correcting  them." 
And  this  is  quite  as  applicable  to  these  Last  of  the  Greeks, 
who  began  au  undertaking  which  was  as  honourable  and  no- 
ble, as  it  was  sure  of  being  frustrated.  Agis  and  Cleomenes, 
Aratus  and  Philopcemen,  thus  sunk  under  the  struggle  for 
the  good  of  their  nation.  Plutarch  sketches  for  us  a  highly 
characteristic  picture  of  these  times,  in  giving  us  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  importance  of  individuals  during  their  con- 
tinuance. 

The  third  period  of  the  history  of  the  Greeks  brings 
us  to  their  contact  with  that  people  which  was  to  play  the 
next  part  on  the  theatre  of  the  World's  History ;  and  the 
chief  excuse  for  this  contact  was — as  pretexts  had  pre- 
viously been — the  liberation  of  Greece.  After  Perseus  the  last 
Macedonian  King,  in  the  year  168  B.C.  had  been  conquered  by 
the  Romans  and  brought  in  triumph  to  Kome,  the  Achaean 
league  was  attacked  and  broken  up,  and  at  last  in  the  year 
146  B.C.  Corinth  was  destroyed.  Looking  at  Greece  as 
Polybius  describes  it,  we  see  how  a  noble  nature  such  as  his, 
has  nothing  left  for  it  but  to  despair  at  the  state  of  affairs  and 
to  retreat  into  Philosophy;  or  if  it  attempts  to  act,  can  only  die 
in  the  struggle.  In  deadly  contraposition  to  the  multiform 
variety  of  passion  which  Greece  presents — that  distracted 


PART   III.      THE    ROMAff  WORLD.  289 

condition  which  whelms  good  and  evil  in  one  common 
ruin — stands  a  blind  fate, — an  iron  power  ready  to  shew  up 
that  degraded  condition  in  all  its  weakness,  and  to  dash  it  to 
pieces  in  miserable  ruin;  for  cure, amendment,  and  consolation 
are  impossible.  And  this  crushing  Destiny  is  the  Roman 
power. 

PAKT  III. 
THE  ROMAN  WORLD. 

NAPOLEON,  in  a  conversation  which  he  once  had  with  Goethe 
on  the  nature  of  Tragedy,  expressed  the  opinion  that  its  mo- 
dern phase  differed  from  the  ancient,  through  our  no  longer 
recognizing  a  Destiny  to  which  men  are  absolutely  subject,  and 
that  Policy  occupies  the  place  of  the  ancient  Fate.  \_La  poll- 
tique  est  la  fatalitfr].  This  therefore  he  thought  must  be 
used  as  the  modern  form  of  Destiny  in  Tragedy — the  irresis- 
tible power  of  circumstances  to  which  individuality  must 
bend.  Such  a  power  is  the  Roman  World,  chosen  for  the  very 
purpose  of  casting  the  moral  units  into  bonds,  as  also  of  col- 
lecting all  Deities  and  all  Spirits  into  the  Pantheon  of  Uni- 
versal dominion,  in  order  to  make  out  of  them  an  abstract  uni- 
versality of  power.  The  distinction  between  the  Roman  and 
the  Persian  principle  is  exactly  this, — that  the  former  stifles 
all  vitality,  while  the  latter  allowed  of  its  existence  in  the 
fullest  measure.  Through  its  being  the  aim  of  the  State,  that 
the  social  units  in  their  moral  life  should  be  sacrificed  to  it, 
the  world  is  sunk  in  melancholy :  its  heart  is  broken,  and  it 
is  all  over  with  the  Natural  side  of  Spirit,  which  has  sunk  into 
a  feeling  of  unhappiness.  Yet  only  from  this  feeling  could 
arise  the  supersensuous,  the  free  Spirit  in  Christianity. 

In  the  Greek  principle  we  have  seen  spiritual  existence  in 
its  exhilaration — its  cheerfulness  and  enjoyment :  Spirit  had 
not  yet  drawn  back  into  abstraction  ;  it  was  still  involved  with 
the  Natural  element — the  idiosyncrasy  of  individuals ; — on 
which  account  the  virtues  of  individuals  themselves  became 
moral  works  of  art.  Abstract  universal  Personality  had  not 
jet  appeared,  for  Spirit  must  first  develop  itself  to  that  form 
of  abstract  Universality  which  exercised  the  severe  discipline 

U 


290  PART    III.       THE    ROMAN   WORLD 

over  humanity  now  under  consideration.  Here,  in  Rome  then, 
\ve  find  that  free  universality,  that  abstract  Freedom,  which 
on  the  one  hand  sets  an  abstract  state,  a  political  consti- 
tution and  power,  over  concrete  individuality ;  on  the  other 
side  creates  a  personality  in  opposition  to  that  universality, 
— the  inherent  freedom  of  the  abstract  Ego,  which  must  be 
distinguished  from  individual  idiosyncrasy.  For  Personality 
constitutes  the  fundamental  condition  of  legal  Eight :  it  ap- 
pears chiefly  in  the  category  of  Property,  but  it  is  indifferent 
to  the  concrete  characteristics  of  the  living  Spirit  with  which 
individuality  is  concerned.  These  two  elements,  which  con- 
stitute Rome,— political  Universality  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  abstract  freedom  of  the  individual  on  the  other, — appear, 
in  the  first  instance,  in  the  form  of  Subjectivity.  This  Sub- 
jectivity— this  retreating  into  one's  self  which  we  observed  as 
the  corruption  of  the  Greek  Spirit — becomes  here  the  ground 
on  which  a  new  side  of  the  World's  History  arises.  In  con- 
sidering the  Roman  World,  we  have  not  to  do  with  a  con- 
cretely spiritual  life,  rich  in  itself;  but  the  world-historical 
element  in  it  is  the  dbstraclum  of  Universality,  and  the  ob- 
ject which  is  pursued  with  soulless  and  heartless  severity,  is 
mere  dominion,  in  order  to  enforce  that  abstraction. 

In  Greece,  Democracy  was  the  fundamental  condition  of 
political  life,  as  in  the  East,  Despotism ;  here  we  have  Aristo- 
cracy of  a  rigid  order,  in  a  state  of  opposition  to  the  people. 
In  Greece  also  the  Democracy  was  rent  asunder,  but  only  in 
the  way  of  factions ;  in  Rome  it  is  principles  that  keep  the 
entire  community  in  a  divided  state, — they  occupy  a  hostile 
position  towards,  and  struggle  with  each  other:  first  the 
Aristocracy  with  the  Kings,  then  the  Plebs  with  the  Aristo- 
cracy, till  Democracy  gets  the  upper  hand ;  then  first 
arise  factions  in  which  originated  that  later  aristocracy  of 
commanding  individuals  which  subjugated  the  world.  It  is 
this  dualism  that,  properly  speaking,  marks  Rome's  inmost 
being. 

Erudition  has  regarded  the  Roman  History  from  various 
points  of  view,  and  has  adopted  very  different  and  opposing 
opinions  :  this  is  especially  the  case  with  the  more  ancient 
part  of  the  history,  which  has  been  taken  up  by  three  differ- 
ent classes  of  literati, — Historians,  Philologists,  and  Jurists. 
The  Historians  hold  to  the  grand  features,  and  shew  respect 


PA.IIT   III.       THE    ROMAN    WOULD.  291 

for  the  history  as  such ;  so  tbat  we  may  after  all  see  our  way 
best  under  their  guidance,  since  they  allow  the  validity  of 
the  records  in  the  case  of  leading  events.  It  is  otherwise 
with  the  Philologists,  by  whom  generally  received  traditions 
are  less  regarded,  and  who  devote  more  attention  to  small 
details  which  can  be  combined  in  various  ways.  These 
combinations  gain  a  footing  first  as  historical  hypotheses, 
but  soon  after  as  established  facts.  To  the  same  degree  as 
the  Philologists  in  their  department,  have  the  Jurists  in  that 
of  Roman  law,  instituted  the  minutest  examination  and  in- 
volved their  inferences  with  hypothesis.  The  result  is  that 
the  most  ancient  part  of  Roman  History  has  been  declared 
to  be  nothing  but  fable  ;  so  that  this  department  of  inquiry  is 
brought  entirely  within  the  province  of  learned  criticism, 
which  always  finds  the  most  to  do  where  the  least  is  to  be 
got  for  the  labour.  While  on  the  one  side  the  poetry  and 
the  myths  of  the  Greeks  are  said  to  contain  profound  his- 
torical truths,  and  are  thus  transmuted  into  history,  the 
Romans  on  the  contrary  have  myths  and  poetical  views 
affiliated  upon  them;  and  epopees  are  affirmed  to  be  at  the 
basis  of  what  has  been  hitherto  taken  forprosaicand  historical. 
With  these  preliminary  remarks  we  proceed  to  describe 
the  Locality. 

The  Roman  World  has  its  centre  in  Italy ;  which  is  ex- 
tremely similar  to  Greece,  and,  like  it,  forms  a  peninsula,  only 
not  so  deeply  indented.  Within  this  country,  the  city  of 
Rome  itself  formed  the  centre  of  the  centre.  Napoleon  in 
his  Memoirs  takes  up  the  question,  which  city — if  Italy  were 
independent  and  formed  a  totality — would  be  best  adapted 
for  its  capital.  Rome,  Venice,  and  Milan  may  put  forward 
claims  to  the  honour;  but  it  is  immediately  evident  that 
none  of  these  cities  would  supply  a  centre.  Northern  Italy 
constitutes  a  basin  of  the  river  Po,  and  is  quite  distinct 
from  the  body  of  the  peninsula ;  Venice  is  connected  only 
with  Higher  Italy,  not  with  the  south  ;  Rome,  on  the  other 
hand,  would,  perhaps,  be  naturally  a  centre  for  Middle  and 
Lower  Italy,  but  only  artificially  and  violently  for  those 
lands  which  were  subjected  to  it  in  Higher  Italy.  The  Roman 
State  rests  geographically,  as  well  as  historically,  on  the 
element  of  force. 

The  locality  of  Italy,  then,  presents  no  natural  unity — as 
the  valley  of  the  Kile ;  the  unity  was  similar  to  that 

u2 


292  PART  111.      THE    ROMAN  WORLD. 

\\hichMacedoniabyitssovereignty  gave  to  Greece;  though 
Italy  wanted  that  permeation  by  one  spirit,  which  Greece 
possessed  through  equality  of  culture ;  for  it  was  inhabited 
by  very  various  races.  Niebuhr  has  prefaced  his  Roman 
history  by  a  profoundly  erudite  treatise  on  the  peoples  of 
Italy  ;  but  from  which  no  connection  between  them  and  the 
Roman  History  is  visible.  In  fact,  Niebuhr's  History  can 
only  be  regarded  as  a  criticism  of  Eoman  History,  for  it 
consists  of  a  series  of  treatises  which  by  no  means  possess 
the  unity  of  history. 

We  observed  subjective  inwardness  as  the  general  prin- 
ciple of  the  Roman  World.  The  course  of  Roman  History, 
therefore,  involves  the  expansion  of  undeveloped  subjectivity 
—  inward  conviction  of  existence — to  the  visibility  of  the 
real  world.  The  principle  of  subjective  inwardness  receives 
positive  application  in  the  first  place  only  from  without 
— through  the  particular  volition  of  the  sovereignty,  the 
government,  &c.  The  development  consists  in  the  purifica- 
tion of  inwardness  to  abstract  personality,  which  gives  itself 
reality  in  the  existence  of  private  property ;  the  mutually 
repellent  social  units  can  then  be  held  together  only  by  des- 
potic power.  The  general  course  of  the  Roman  World 
may  be  defined  as  this;  the  transition  from  the  inner  sanctum 
of  subjectivity  to  its  direct  opposite.  The  development  is  here 
not  of  the  same  kind  as  that  in  Greece, — the  unfolding  and 
expanding  of  its  own  substance  on  the  part  of  the  principle  ; 
but  it  is  the  transition  to  its  opposite,  which  latter  does  not 
appear  as  an  element  of  corruption,  but  is  demanded  and 
posited  by  the  principle  itself. — As  to  the  particular  sections 
of  the  Roman  History,  the  common  division  is  that  into  the 
Monarchy,  the  Republic,  and  the  Empire, — as  if  in  these  forma 
different  principles  made  their  appearance  ;  but  the  same 
principle — that  of  the  Roman  Spirit — underlies  their  develop- 
ment. In  our  division,  we  must  rather  keep  in  view  the 
course  of  History  generally.  The  annals  of  every  World- 
historical  people  were  divided  above  into  three  periods,  and 
this  statement  must  prove  itself  true  in  this  case  also.  The 
-first  period  comprehends  the  rudiments  of  Rome,  in  which 
the  elements  which  are  essentially  opposed,  still  repose  in 
calm  unity ;  until  the  contrarieties  have  acquired  strength, 
and  the  unity  of  the  State  becomes  a  powerful  one,  through 
tuat  antithetical  condition  having  been  oroduced  and  ixiaiu- 


SECT.    I.      HISTOBY   TO   THE   SECOND   PUNIC   WAR.    21)3 

tained  within  i-t.  In  this  vigorous  condition  the  State  directs 
its  forces  outwards — i.  e.t  in  the  second  period -and  makes 
its  debut  on  the  theatre  of  general  history  ;  this  is  the  noblest 
period  of  E/ome— the  Punic  Wars  and  the  contact  with  the 
antecedent  World- Historical  people.  A  wider  stage  ia 
opened,  towards  the  East ;  the  history  at  the  epoch  of  this 
contact  has  been  treated  by  the  noble  Polybius.  The  Ro- 
man  Empire  now  acquired  that  world- conquering  extension 
which  paved  the  way  for  its  fall.  Internal  distraction  super- 
vened, while  the  antithesis  was  developing  itself  to  self-con- 
tradiction and  utter  incompatibility  ;  it  closes  with  Despo- 
tism, which  marks  the  third  period.  The  Roman  power 
appears  here  in  its  pomp  and  splendour ;  but  it  is  at  the 
same  time  profoundly  ruptured  within  itself,  and  the  Cknstian 
Religion,  which  begins  with  the  imperial  dominion,  re-  eives 
a  great  extension.  The  third  period  comprises  the  c<x  *.act 
of  Rome  with  the  North  and  the  German  peoples,  wi  »se 
turn  is  now  come  to  play  their  part  in  History. 


SECTION  I. 

ROME   TO   THE   TIME   OF  THE   SECOND   PUNIC   WAR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    ELEMENTS   OF   THE  ROMAN   SPIRIT. 

BEFORE  we  come  to  the  Roman  History,  we  have  to  con- 
sider the  Elements  of  the  Roman  Spirit  in  general,  and  men- 
tion and  investigate  the  origin  of  Rome  with  a  reference  to 
them.  Rome  arose  outside  recognized  countries,  viz.,  in  an 
angle  where  three  different  districts  met, — those  of  the  La- 
tins, Sabines  and  Etruscans ;  it  was  not  formed  from  some 
ancient  stem,  connected  by  natural  patriarchal  bonds,  whose 
origin  might  be  traced  up  to  remote  times  (as  seems  to  have 
been  t^ie  case  with  the  Persians,  who,  however,  even  then 
ruled  a  large  empire)  ;  but  Rome  was  from  the  very  begin- 
ning, of  artificial  and  violent,  not  spontaneous  growth.  It 
is  rekited  that  the  descendants  of  the  Trojans,  led  by  JEnena 


204  PART    III.       THE    ROMAN    VORLD, 

to  Italy,  founded  'Rome ;  for  the  connection  with  Asia 
was  a  much  cherished  tradition,  and  there  are  in  Italy, 
France,  and  Germany  itself  (Xanten)  many  towns  which 
refer  their  origin,  or  their  names,  to  the  fugitive  Trojans. 
Livy  speaks  of  the  ancient  tribes  of  Eome,  the  Bamnenses, 
Titienses,  and  Luceres.  Now  if  we  look  upon  these  as 
distinct  nations,  and  assert  that  they  were  really  the  elements 
from  which  Eome  was  formed, — a  view  which  in  recent  times 
has  very  often  striven  to  obtain  currency,— we  directly  sub- 
vert the  historical  tradition.  All  historians  agree  that  at  an 
early  period,  shepherds,  under  the  leadership  of  chieftains, 
roved  about  on  the  hills  of  Eome ;  that  the  first  Eoman  com- 
munity constituted  itself  as  a  predatory  state ;  and  that  it 
was  with  difficulty  that  the  scattered  inhabitants  of  the  vici- 
nit\  A-ere  thus  united.  The  details  of  these  circumstances  are 
als  given.  Those  predatory  shepherds  received  every  contri- 
b'  .ion  to  their  community  that  chose  to  join  them  (Livy  calls 
it  a  colluvies).  The  rabble  of  all  the  three  districts  between 
which  Eome  lay,  was  collected  in  the  new  city.  The  histo- 
rians state  that  this  point  was  very  well  chosen  on  a  hill 
close  to  the  river,  and  particularly  adapted  to  make  it  an  asy- 
lum for  all  delinquents.  It  is  equally  historical  that  in  the 
newly  formed  state  there  were  no  women,  and  that  the 
neighbouring  states  would  enter  into  no  connulia  with  it : 
both  circumstances  characterize  it  as  a  predatory  union,  with 
which  the  other  states  wished  to  have  no  connexion.  They 
also  refused  the  invitation  to  their  religious  festivals;  and  only 
the  Sabines, — a  simple  agricultural  people,  among  whom,  as 
Livy  says,  prevailed  a  tristis  atque  tetrica  superstitio, — partly 
from  superstition,  partly  from  fear,  presented  themselves  at 
them.  The  seizure  of  the  Sabine  women  is  also  a  universally 
received  historical  fact.  This  circumstance  itself  involves 
a  very  characteristic  feature,  viz.,  that  Eeligion  is  used  as  a 
means  for  furthering  the  purposes  of  the  infant  State.  An- 
other method  of  extension  was  the  conveying  to  Eome  of 
the  inhabitants  of  neighbouring  and  conquered  towns.  At 
a  later  date  there  was  also  a  voluntary  migration  of  foreigners 
to  Eome ;  as  in  the  case  of  the  so  celebrated  family  of  the 
Claudii,  bringing  their  whole  clientela.  The  Corinthian  Dema- 
ratus,  belonging  to  a  family  of  consideration,  had  settled  in 
Etriiria  ;  but  as  being  an  exile  and  a  foreigner,  he  was  little 


SECT.    I.      HISTORY   TO    THE    SECOND    PUNIC  WATl.      295 

respected  there,  and  his  son,  Lucumo,  could  no  longer  endure 
this  degradation.  He  betook  himself  to  Home,  says  Livy, 
because  a  new  people  and  a  repentina  nique  ex  virtute  nobili- 
tas  were  to  be  found  there.  Lucumo  attained,  we  are  told 
such  a  degree  of  respect,  that  he  afterwards  became  king. 

It  is  this  peculiarity  in  the  founding  of  the  State  which 
must  be  regarded  as  the  essential  basis  of  the  idiosyncrasy 
of  Rome.  For  it  directly  involves  the  severest  discipline, 
and  self-sacrifice  to  the  grand  object  of  the  union.  A  State 
which  had  first  to  form  itself,  and  which  is  based  on  force, 
must  be  held  together  by  force.  It  is  not  a  moral,  liberal 
connection,  but  a  compulsory  condition  of  subordination, 
that  results  from  such  an  origin.  The  Roman  virtus  is  valour ; 
not,  however,  the  merely  personal,  but  that  which  is  essen- 
tially connected  with  a  union  of  associates ;  which  union 
is  regarded  as  the  supreme  interest,  and  may  be  combined 
with  lawless  violence  of  all  kinds.  While  the  Romans  formed 
a  union  of  this  kind,  they  were  not,  indeed,  like  the  Lace- 
demonians, engaged  in  an  internal  contest  with  a  conquered 
and  subjugated  people  ;  but  there  arose  a  distinction  and  a 
struggle  between  Patricians  and  Plebeians.  This  distinction 
was  mythically  adumbrated  in  the  hostile  brothers,  Romu- 
lus and  Remus.  Remus  was  buried  on  the  Aventine  mount ; 
this  is  consecrated  to  the  evil  genii,  and  to  it  are  directed 
the  Secessions  of  the  Plebs.  The  question  comes,  then,  how 
this  distinction  originated  ?  It  has  been  already  said,  that 
Rome  was  formed  by  robber-herdsmen,  and  the  concourse  of 
rabble  of  all  sorts.  At  a  later  date,  the  inhabitants  of  cap- 
tured and  destroyed  towns  were  also  conveyed  thither.  The 
weaker,  the  poorer,  the  later  additions  of  population  are 
naturally  underrated  by,  and  in  a  condition  of  dependence 
upon  those  who  originally  founded  the  state,  and  those 
who  were  distinguished  by  valour,  and  also  by  wealth.  It 
is  not  necessary,  therefore,  to  take  refuge  in  a  hypothesis 
which  has  recently  been  a  favourite  one — that  the  Patricians 
formed  a  particular  race. 

The  dependence  of  the  Plebeians  on  the  Patrician  sis  often 
represented  as  a  perfectly  legal  relation, — indeed,  even  a 
sacred  one  ;  since  the  patricians  had  the  sacra  in  their  hands, 
while  the  plebs  would  have  been  godless,  as  it  were,  without 
them.  The  plebeians  left  to  the  patricians  their  hypocritical 


296  PART  in.     THE  ROMAN  WOULD. 

stuff  (ad  decipiendam  plebem,  Cic.)  and  cared  nothing  for 
their  sacra  and  auguries ;  but  in  disjoining  political  rights 
from  these  ritual  observances,  and  making  good  their  cfaim 
to  those  rights,  they  were  no  more  guilty  of  a  presumptuous 
sacrilege  than  the  Protestants,  when  they  emancipated  the 
political  power  of  the  State,  and  asserted  the  freedom  of  con- 
science. The  light  in  which,  as  previously  stated,  we  must 
regard  the  relation  of  the  Patricians  and  Plebeians  is,  that 
those  who  were  poor,  and  consequently  helpless,  were  com- 
pelled to  attach  themselves  to  the  richer  and  more  respectable, 
and  to  seek  for  their  patrocinium:  in  this  relation  of  protection 
on  the  part  of  the  more  wealthy,  the  protected  are  called 
clientes.  But  we  find  very  soon  a  fresh  distinction  between 
the  plebs  and  the  clientes.  In  the  contentions  between  the 
patricians  and  the  plebeians,  the  clientes  held  to  their  patroni, 
though  belonging  to  the  plebs  as  decidedly  as  any  class. 
That  this  relation  of  the  clientes  had  not  the  stamp  of  right 
and  law  is  evident  from  the  fact,  that  with  the  introduction 
and  knowledge  of  the  laws  among  all  classes,  the  cliental 
relation  gradually  vanished ;  for  as  soon  as  individuals  found 
protection  in  the  law,  the  temporary  necessity  for  it  could 
not  but  cease. 

In  the  first  predatory  period  of  the  state,  every  citizen 
was  necessarily  a  soldier,  for  the  state  was  based  on  war ;  this 
burden  was  oppressive,  since  every  citizen  was  obliged  to  main- 
tain himself  in  the  field.  This  circumstance,  therefore,  gave 
rise  to  the  contracting  of  enormous  debts, — the  patricians 
becoming  the  creditors  of  the  plebeians.  "With  the  intro- 
duction of  laws,  this  arbitrary  relation  necessarily  ceased;  but 
only  gradually,  for  the  patricians  were  far  from  being  imme- 
diately inclined  to  release  the  plebs  from  the  cliental  relation ; 
they  rather  strove  to  render  it  permanent.  The  laws  of  the 
Twelve  Tables  still  contained  much  that  was  undefined  ;  very 
much  was  still  left  to  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  judge — the 
patricians  alone  being  judges ;  the  antithesis,  therefore,  be- 
tween patricians  and  plebeians,  continues  till  a  much  later 
period.  Only  by  degrees  do  the  plebeians  scale  all  the 
heights  of  official  station,  and  attain  those  privileges  which 
formerly  belonged  to  the  patricians  alone. 

In  the  life  of  the  Greeks,  although  it  did  not  any  more 
than  that  of  the  Romans  originate  in  the  patriarchal  rela- 


SECT.    I.       HISTORY    TO    T1IE    SiiCONG    PUNIC   WAR.      29V 

tion,  Family  love  and  the  Family  tie  appeared  at  its  very 
commencement,  and  the  peaceful  aim  of  their  social  existence 
had  for  its  necessary  condition  the  extirpation  of  freebooters 
both  by  sea  and  land.  The  founders  of  Rome,  on  the  con- 
trary— Romulus  and  Remus — are,  according  to  the  tradition, 
themselves  freebooters— represented  as  from  their  earliest 
days  thrust  out  from  the  Family,  and  as  having  grown  up  in 
a  state  of  isolation  from  family  affection.  In  like  manner, 
the  first  Romans  are  said  to  have  got  their  wives,  not  by  free 
courtship  and  reciprocated  inclination,  but  by  force.  This 
commencement  of  the  Roman  life  in  savage  rudeness  exclud- 
ing the  sensibilities  of  natural  morality,  brings  with  it  one 
characteristic  element — harshness  in  respect  to  the  family 
relation ;  a  selfish  harshness,  which  constituted  the  funda- 
mental condition  of  Roman  manners  and  laws,  as  we  observe 
them  in  the  sequel.  "We  thus  find  family  relations  among 
the  Romans  not  as  a  beautiful,  free  relation  of  love  and  feel- 
ing ;  the  place  of  confidence  is  usurped  by  the  principle  of 
severity,  dependence,  and  subordination.  Marriage,  in  its 
strict  and  formal  shape,  bore  quite  the  aspect  of  a  mere  con- 
tract; the  wife  was  part  of  the  husband's  property  (in  ma- 
num  conventio),  and  the  marriage  ceremony  was  based  on  a 
coemtioy  in  a  form  such  as  might  have  been  adopted  on  the  oc- 
casion of  any  other  purchase.  The  husband  acquired  a  power 
over  his  wife,  such  as  he  had  over  his  daughter ;  nor  less  over 
her  property ;  so  that  everything  which  she  gained,  she  gained 
for  her  husband.  During  the  good  times  of  the  republic, 
the  celebration  of  marriages  included  a  religious  ceremony, 
— "  confarreatio  " — but  which  was  omitted  at  a  later  period. 
The  husband  obtained  not  less  power  than  by  the  coemtio, 
when  he  married  according  to  the  form  called  "usus,"— that 
is,  when  the  wife  remained  in  the  house  of  her  husband  with- 
out having  been  absent  a  "  trinoctium  "  in  a  year.  If  the 
husband  had  not  married  in  one  of  the  forms  of  the  "  in  ma- 
num  eonventio,"  the  wife  remained  either  in  the  power  ot 
her  father,  or  under  the  guardianship  of  her  "  agnates,"  and 
was  free  as  regarded  her  husband.  The  Roman  matron, 
therefore,  obtained  honour  and  dignity  only  through  inde- 
pendence of  her  husband,  instead  of  acquiring  her  honour 
through  her  husband  and  by  marriage.  If  a  husband 
who  had  married  under  the  freer  condition — that  is,  when 


298  PART    III.       THE    ROMAN    WORLD. 

the  union  was  not  consecrated  by  the  "confarreatio, — wished 
to  separate  from  his  wife,  he  dismissed  her  without  further 
ceremony.  The  relation  of  sons  was  perfectly  similar :  they 
were,  on  the  one  hand,  about  as  dependent  on  the  paternal 
power  as  the  wife  on  the  matrimonial ;  they  could  not  pos- 
sess property, — it  made  no  difference  whether  they  filled  a 
high  office  in  the  State  or  not  (though  the  "peculia  cas- 
trensia"  and  "adventtiia"  were  differently  regarded) ;  but 
on  the  other  hand,  when  they  were  emancipated,  they  had  no 
connection  with  their  father  and  their  family.  An  evi- 
dence of  the  degree  in  which  the  position  of  children  was 
regarded  as  analogous  to  that  of  slaves,  is  presented  in  the 
"  imaginaria  servitus  (mancipium) y"  through  which  emanci- 
pated children  had  to  pass.  In  reference  to  inheritance, 
inorality  would  seem  to  demand  that  children  should  share 
equally.  Among  the  Romans,  on  the  contrary,  testamentary 
caprice  manifests  itself  in  its  harshest  form. 

Thus  perverted  and  demoralized,  do  wre  here  see  the  fun- 
damental relations  of  ethics.  The  immoral  active  severity  of 
the  Romans  in  this  private  side  of  character,  necessarily  finds 
its  counterpart  in  the  passive  severity  of  their  political 
union.  For  the  severity  which  the  Roman  experienced  from 
the  State  he  was  compensated  by  a  severity,  identical  in 
nature,  which  he  was  allowed  to  indulge  towards  his  family, 
— a  servant  on  the  one  side,  a  despot  on  the  other.  This 
constitutes  the  Roman  greatness,  whose  peculiar  character- 
istic was  stern  inflexibility  in  the  union  of  individuals  with 
the  State,  and  with  its  law  and  mandate.  In  order  to  obtain 
a  nearer  view  of  this  Spirit,  we  must  not  merely  keep  in  view 
the  actions  of  Roman  heroes,  confronting  the  enemy  as  soldiers 
or  generals,  or  appearing  as  ambassadors — since  in  these 
cases  they  belong,  with  their  whole  mind  and  thought,  only 
to  the  state  and  its  mandate,  without  hesitation  or  yielding 
— but  pay  particular  attention  also  to  the  conduct  of  the 
plebs  in  times  of  revolt  against  the  patricians.  How  often 
in  insurrection  and  in  anarchical  disorder  was  the  plebs 
brought  back  into  a  state  of  tranquillity  by  a  mere  form,  and 
cheated  of  the  fulfilment  of  its  demands,  righteous  or  un 
righteous!  How  often  was  a  Dictator,  e.g.,  chosen  by  the 
senate,  when  there  was  neither  war  nor  danger  from  an 
enemy,  in  order  to  get  the  plebeians  into  tLe  army,  and  to 


SECT.    I.       niSTOBY    TO    THE    SECOND    PUNTC    WAH.      290 

bind  them  to  strict  obedience  by  the  military  oath  !  It  took 
Licinius  ten  years  to  carry  laws  favourable  to  the  plebs; 
the  latter  allowed  itself  to  be  kept  back  by  the  mere  formality 
of  the  veto  on  the  part  of  other  tribunes,  and  still  more 
patiently  did  it  wait  for  the  long-delayed  execution  of  these 
laws.  It  may  be  asked :  By  what  was  such  a  disposition 
and  character  produced  ?  Produced  it  cannot  be,  but  it  is 
essentially  latent  in  the  origination  of  the  State  from  that 
primal  robber-community,  as  also  in  the  idiosyncrasy  of  the 
people  who  composed  it,  and  lastly,  in  that  phase  of  the  World- 
Spirit  which  was  just  ready  for  development.  The  elements 
of  theB/oman  people  were  Etruscan,  Latin  and  Sabine  ;  these 
must  have  contained  an  inborn  natural  adaptation  to  produce 
the  Roman  Spirit.  Of  the  spirit,  tbe  character,  and  the  life 
of  the  ancient  Italian  peoples  we  know  very  little — thanks  to 
the  non-intelligent  character  of  Roman  historiography  ! — and 
that  little,  for  the  most  part,  from  the  Greek  writers  on 
Roman  history.  But  of  the  general  character  of  the  Romans 
we  may  say  that,  in  contrast  with  that  primeval  wild  poetry 
and  transmutation  of  the  finite,  which  we  observe  in  the 
East — in  contrast  with  the  beautiful,  harmonious  poetry  and 
well-balanced  freedom  of  Spirit  among  the  Greeks — here, 
among  the  Romans  the  prose  of  life  makes  its*  appearance — 
the  self-consciousness  of  finiteness — the  abstraction  of  the 
Understanding  and  a  rigorous  principle  of  personality,  which 
even  in  the  Family  does  not  expand  itself  to  natural  mora- 
lity, but  remains  the  unfeeling  non-spiritual  unit,  and  re- 
cognizes the  uniting  bond  of  the  several  social  units  only 
in  abstract  universality. 

This  extreme  prose  of  the  Spirit  we  find  in  Etruscan 
art,  which  though  technically  perfect  and  so  far  true  to 
nature,  has  nothing  of  Greek  Ideality  and  Beauty  :  we  also 
observe  it  in  the  development  of  Roman  Law  and  in  the 
Roman  religion. 

To  the  constrained,  non-spiritual,  and  unfeeling  intelli- 
gence of  the  Roman  world  we  owe  the  origin  and  the  de- 
velopment of  positive  law.  For  we  saw  above,  how  in  the 
East,  relations  in  their  very  nature  belonging  to  the  sphere 
of  outward  or  inward  morality,  were  made  legal  mandates ; 
even  among  the  Greeks,  morality  was  at  the  same  time 
juristic  right;,  and  on  that  very  account  the  constitution  was 


300  PART    III.      THE    ItOAlAN   WORLD. 

entirely  dependent  on  morals  and  disposition,  and  had  not 
yet  a  fixity  of  principle  within  it,  to  counterbalance  the 
mutability  of  men's  inner  life  and  individual  subjectivity. 
The  Romans  then  completed  this  important  separation,  and 
discovered  a  principle  of  right,  which  is  external— i.e.,  one 
not  dependent  on  disposition  and  sentiment.  "While  they 
have  thus  bestowed  upon  us  a  valuable  gift,  in  point  of  form, 
we  can  use  and  enjoy  it  without  becoming  victims  to  that 
sterile  Understanding,— without  regarding  it  as  the  ne  plus 
ultra  of  "Wisdom  and  Reason.  They  were  its  victims, 
living  beneath  its  sway  ;  but  they  thereby  secured  for  others 
Freedom  of  Spirit  —  viz.,  that  inward  Freedom  which  has  con- 
sequently become  emancipate  from  the  sphere  of  the  Limited 
and  the  External.  Spirit,  Soul,  Disposition,  Religion  have 
now  no  longer  to  fear  being  involved  with  that  abstract 
juristical  Understanding.  Art  too  has  its  external  side ; 
when  in  Art  the  mechanical  side  has  been  brought  to  per- 
fection, Free  Art  can  arise  and  display  itself.  But  those  must 
be  pitied  who  knew  of  nothing  but  that  mechanical  side,  and 
desired  nothing  farther ;  as  also  those  who,  when  Art  has 
arisen,  still  regard  the  Mechanical  as  the  highest. 

"We  see  the  Romans  thus  bound  up  in  that  abstract  under- 
standing which  pertains  to  finiteness.  This  is  their  highest 
characteristic,  consequently  also  their  highest  conscious- 
ness, in  Religion.  In  fact,  constraint  was  the  religion  of 
the  Romans ;  among  the  Greeks,  on  the  contrary,  it  was 
the  cheerfulness  of  free  phantasy.  We  are  accustomed  to 
regard  Greek  and  Roman  religion  as  the  same,  and  use  the 
names  Jupiter,  Minerva,  &c.  as  Roman  deities,  often  with- 
out distinguishing  them  from  those  of  Greeks.  This  is  ad- 
missible inasmuch  as  the  Greek  divinities  were  more  or 
less  introduced  among  the  Romans ;  but  as  the  Egyptian 
religion  is  by  no  means  to  be  regarded  as  identical  with  the 
Greek,  merely  because  Herodotus  and  the  Greeks  form  to 
themselves  an  idea  of  the  Egyptian  divinities  under  the 
names  "  Latona,"  "  Pallas,"  &c.,  so  neither  must  the  Roman 
be  confounded  with  the  Greek.  We  have  said  that  in  the 
Greek  religion  the  thrill  of  awe  suggested  by  Nature  was 
fully  developed  to  something  Spiritual — to  a  free  conception, 
a  spiritual  form  of  fancy — that  the  Greek  Spirit  did  not  re- 
main in  the  condition  of  inward  fear,  but  proceeded  to  make 


SECT.    I.      HISTOBY    TO   THE    SECOND    PUNIC    WAE.     301 

the  relation  borne  to  man  by  Nature,  a  relation  of  freedom 
and  cheerfulness.  The  Eomans,  on  the  contrary,  remained 
satisfied  with  a  dull,  stupid  subjectivity ;  consequently,  the 
external  was  only  an  Object — something  alien,  something 
hidden.  The  Roman  spirit  which  thus  remained  involved  in 
subjectivity,  came  into  a  relation  of  constraint  and  depen- 
dence, to  which  the  origin  of  the  word  "  religio  "  (lig-are) 
points.  The  Roman  had  always  to  do  with  something  secret ; 
in  everything  he  believed  in  and  sought  for  something  con- 
cealed ;  and  while  in  the  Greek  religion  everything  is  open 
and  clear,  present  to  sense  and  contemplation — not  pertain- 
ing to  a  future  world,  but  something  friendly,  and.  of  this 
world, — among  the  Romans  everything  exhibits  itself  as 
mysterious,  duplicate :  they  saw  in  the  object  first  itself,  and 
then  that  which  lies  concealed  in  it :  their  history  is  pervaded 
by  this  duplicate  mode  of  viewing  phenomena.  The  city  of 
Rome  had  besides  its  proper  name  another  secret  one,  known 
only  to  a  few.  It  is  believed  by  some  to  have  been  "  Valen- 
tia,"  the  Latin  translation  of  "Roma;"  others  think  it 
was  "Amor"  ("Roma"  read  backwards).  Romulus,  the 
founder  of  the  State,  had  also  another,  a  sacred  name — 
"Quirinus," — by  which  title  he  was  worshipped :  the  Romans 
too  were  also  called  Quirites.  (This  name  is  connected  with 
the  term  "curia:"  in  tracing  its  etymology,  the  name  of 
the  Sabine  town  "Cures,"  has  been  had  recourse  to.) 

Among  the  Romans  the  religious  thrill  of  awe  remained 
undeveloped  ;  it  was  shut  up  to  the  mere  subjective  certainty 
of  its  own  existence.  Consciousness  has  therefore  given 
itself  no  spiritual  objectivity — has  not  elevated  itself  to 
the  theoretical  contemplation  ol  the  eternally  divine  nature, 
and  to  freedom  in  that  contemplation ;  it  has  gained  no  reli- 
gious substantiality  for  itself  from  Spirit.  The  bare  subjecr 
tivity  of  conscience  is  characteristic  of  the  Roman  in  all  that 
he  does  and  undertakes — in  his  covenants,  political  relations, 
obligations,  family  relations,  &c. ;  and  all  these  relations 
receive  thereby  not  merely  a  legal  sanction,  but  as  it  were 
a  solemnity  analogous  to  that  of  an  oath.  The  infinite 
number  of  ceremonies  at  the  comitia,  on  assuming  offices, 
&c.,  are  expressions  and  declarations  that  concern  this  firm 
bond.  Everywhere  the  sacra  play  a  very  important  part. 
Transactions,  naturally  the  most  alien  to  constraint,  became 


302  VAHT    III.      TILE    KOMJJS    "WORLD. 

a  sacrum,  and  were  petrified,  as  it  were,  into  that.  To  this 
category  belongs,  e.g.,  in  strict  marriages,  the  confarreatio, 
and  the  auguries  and  auspices  generally.  The  knowledge  ot 
these  sacra  is  utterly  uninteresting  and  wearisome,  affording 
fresh  material  for  learned  research  as  to  whether  they  are  of 
Etruscan,  Sabine,  or  other  origin.  On  their  account  the 
Roman  people  have  been  regarded  as  extremely  pious,  both 
in  positive  and  negative  observances ;  though  it  is  ridiculous 
to  hear  recent  writers  speak  with  unction  and  respect  of 
these  sacra.  The  Patricians  were  especially  fond  of  them ; 
they  have  therefore  been  elevated  in  the  judgment  of  some, 
to  the  dignity  of  sacerdotal  families,  and  regarded  as  the 
sacred  gentes — the  possessors  and  conservators  of  Roman 
religion:  the  plebeians  then  become  the  godless  element. 
On  this  head  what  is  pertinent  has  already  been  said. 
The  ancient  kings  were  at  the  same  time  also  reges  sacrorum. 
After  the  royal  dignity  had  been  done  away  with,  there  still 
remained  a  Rex  tiacrorum ;  but  he,  like  all  the  other 
priests,  was  subject  to  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  who  presided 
over  all  the  "  sacra,"  and  gave  them  such  a  rigidity  and 
fixity  as  enabled  the  patricians  to  maintain  their  religious 
power  so  long. 

But  the  essential  point  in  pious  feeling  is  the  subject 
matter  with  which  it  occupies  itself — though  it  is  often 
asserted,  on  the  contrary,  in  modern  times,  that  if  pious 
feelings  exist,  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  what  object 
occupies  them.  It  has  been  already  remarked  of  the  Romans, 
that  their  religious  subjectivity  did  not  expand  into  a  free 
spiritual  and  moral  comprehensiveness  of  being.  It  can  be 
said  that  their  piety  did  not  develop  itself  into  religion  ;  for 
it  remained  essentially  formal,  and  this  formalism  took  its 
real  side  from  another  quarter.  From  the  very  definition 
given,  it  follows  that  it  can  only  be  of  a  finite,  unhallowed 
order,  since  it  arose  outside  the  secret  sanctum  of  religion. 
The  chief  characteristic  of  Roman  Religion  is  therefore  a  hard 
and  dry  contemplation  of  certain  voluntary  aims,  which  they 
regard  as  existing  absolutely  in  their  divinities,  and  whose 
accomplishment  they  desire  of  them  as  embodying  absolute 
power.  These  purposes  constitute  that  for  the  sake  of  which 
they  worship  the  gods,  and  by  which,  in  a  constrained,  limited 
way,  they  are  bound  to  their  deities.  The  Roman  religion 


SECT.  I.   HISTORY  TO  THE  SECOND  PUNIC  WAR.  303 

is  therefore  the  entirely  prosaic  one  of  narrow  aspirations,  ex- 
pediency, profit.  The  divinities  peculiar  to  them  are  entirely 
prosaic;  they  are  conditions  [of  mind  or  body],  sensations, 
or  useful  arts,  to  which  their  dry  fancy,  having  elevated  them 
to  independent  power,  gave  objectivity  ;  they  are  partly  ab- 
stractions, which  could  only  become  frigid  allegories,— partly 
conditions  of  being  which  appear  as  bringing  advantage  or 
injury,  and  which  were  presented  as  objects  of  worship  in 
their  original  bare  and  limited  form.  "We  can  but  briefly 
notice  a  few  examples.  The  Romans  worshipped  "  Pax," 
"  Tranquillitas,"  "Vacuna"  (Eepose),  "  Angeronia"  (Sorrow 
and  grief),  as  divinities;  they  consecrated  altars  to  the 
Plague,  to  Hunger,  to  Mildew  (Robigo),  to  Eever,  and  to  the 
Dea  Cloacina.  Juno  appears  among  the  Romans  not  merely 
as  "Luciria,"  the  obstetric  goddess,  but  also  as  "Juno 
Ossipagina,"  the  divinity  who  forms  the  bones  of  the  child, 
and  as  "  Juno  Unxia,"  who  anoints  the  hinges  of  the  doors  at 
marriages  (a  matter  which  was  also  reckoned  among  the 
"sacra").  How  little  have  these  prosaic  conceptions  in 
common  with  the  beauty  of  the  spiritual  powers  and  deities 
of  the  Greeks !  On  the  other  hand,  Jupiter  as  "  Jupiter 
Capitolinus"  represents  the  generic  essence  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  which  is  also  personified  in  the  divinities  "  Roma" 
and  "  Fortuna  Publica." 

It  was  the  Romans  especially  who  introduced  the  practice 
of  not  merely  supplicating  the  gods  in  time  of  need,  and 
celebrating  "lectisternia,"  but  of  also  making  solemn  promises 
and  vows  to  them.  For  help  in  difficulty  they  sent  even 
into  foreign  countries,  and  imported  foreign  divinities  and 
rites.  The  introduction  of  the  gods  and  most  of  the  Roman 
temples  thus  arose  from  necessity — from  a  vow  of  some  kind, 
and  an  obligatory,  not  disinterested  acknowledgment  of 
favours.  The  Greeks  on  the  contrary  erected  and  instituted 
their  beautiful  temples,  and  statues,  and  rites,  from  love  to 
beauty  and  divinity  for  their  own  sake. 

Only  one  side  of  the  Roman  religion  exhibits  something 
attractive,  and  that  is  the  festivals,  which  bear  a  relation  to 
country  life,  and  whose  observance  was  transmitted  from  the 
earliest  times.  The  idea  of  the  Saturnian  time  is  partly  their 
basis — the  conception  of  a  state  of  things  antecedent  to  and 
beyond  the  limits  of  civil  society  and  political  combination ; 


304  PAET    III.       THE    ROMAN   WOULD. 

but  their  import  is  partly  taken  from  Nature  generally —the 
Sim,  the  course  of  the  year,  the  seasons,  months,  &c.,  (with 
astronomical  intimations) — partly  from  the  particular  aspects 
of  the  course  of  Nature,  as  bearing  upon  pastoral  and  agri- 
cultural life.  There  were  festivals  of  sowing  and  harvesting 
and  of  the  seasons  ;  the  principal  was  that  of  the  Saturnalia, 
&c.  In  this  aspect  there  appears  much  that  is  naive  and  inge- 
nious in  the  tradition.  Yet  this  series  of  rites,  on  the 
whole,  presents  a  very  limited  and  prosaic  appearance ; 
deeper  views  of  the  great  powers  of  nature  and  their  generic 
processes  are  not  deducible  from  them  ;  for  they  are  entirely 
directed  to  external  vulgar  advantage,  and  the  merriment 
they  occasioned,  degenerated  into  a  buffoonery  unrelieved  by 
intellect.  While  among  the  Greeks  their  tragic  art  de- 
veloped itself  from  similar  rudiments,  it  is  on  the  other  hand 
remarkable  that  among  the  Romans  the  scurrilous  dances 
and  songs  connected  with  the  rural  festivals,  were  kept  up 
till  the  latest  periods  without  any  advance  from  this  naive 
but  rude  form  to  anything  really  artistic. 

It  has  already  been  said  that  the  Eomans  adopted  the 
Greek  Gods,  (the  mythology  of  the  Roman  poets  is  entirely- 
derived  from  the  Greeks)  ;  but  the  worship  of  these  beauti- 
ful gods  of  the  imagination  appears  to  have  been  among  them 
of  a  very  cold  and  superficial  order.  Their  talk  of  Jupiter, 
Juno,  Minerva,  sounds  like  a  mere  theatrical  mention  ol 
them.  The  Greeks  made  their  Pantheon  the  embodiment  of 
<i  rich  intellectual  material,  and  adorned  it  with  bright  fan- 
cies ;  it  was  to  them  an  object  calling  forth  continual  inven- 
tion and  exciting  thoughtful  reflection  ;  and  an  extensive,  nay 
inexhaustible  treasure  has  thus  been  created  for  sentiment, 
feeling  and  thought,  in  their  mythology.  The  Spirit  of  the 
Romans  did  not  indulge  and  delight  itself  in  that  play  of 
a  thoughtful  fancy;  the  Greek  mythology  appears  lifeless  and 
exotic  in  their  hands.  Among  the  Roman  poets  — especially 
Virgil — the  introduction  of  the  gods  is  the  product  of  a  frigid 
Understanding  and  of  imitation.  The  gods  are  used  in  these 
poems  as  machinery,  and  in  a  merely  superficial  way ;  re- 
garded much  in  the  same  way  as  in  our  didactic  treatises  on 
the  belles  lettres,  where  among  other  directions  we  find  one 
relating  to  the  use  of  such  machinery  in  epics  --JQ  order 
co  produce  astonishment. 


SECT.    I.      HISTORY    TO    THE    SECOND    PUNIC    WAR.      305 

The  Romans  were  as  essentially  different  from  the  Greeks 
in  respect  to  their  public  games.  In  these  the  Romans  were, 
properly  speaking,  only  spectators.  The  mimetic  and  the- 
atrical representation,  the  dancing,  foot-racing  and  wrestling, 
they  left  to  manumitted  slaves,  gladiators,  or  criminals  con- 
demned to  death.  iNero's  deepest  degradation  was  his 
appearing  on  a  public  stage  as  a  singer,  lyrist  and  comba- 
tant. As  the  Romans  were  only  spectators,  these  diversions 
were  something  foreign  to  them  ;  they  did  not  enter  into 
them  with  their  whole  souls.  With  increasing  luxury  the 
taste  for  the  baiting  of  beasts  and  men  became  particularly 
keen.  Hundreds  of  bears,  lions,  tigers,  elephants,  croco- 
diles, and  ostriches,  were  produced,  and  slaughtered  for  mere 
amusement.  A  body  consisting  of  hundreds,  nay  thousands 
of  gladiators,  when  entering  the  amphitheatre  at  a  certain 
festival  to  engage  in  a  sham  sea-fight,  addressed  the  Em- 
peror with  the  words:  "Those  who  are  devoted  to  death 
salute  thee,"  to  excite  some  compassion.  In  vain !  the 
whole  were  devoted  to  mutual  slaughter.  In  place  of  hu- 
man sufferings  in  the  depths  of  the  soul  and  spirit,  occasioned 
by  the  contradictions  of  life,  and  which  find  their  solution  in 
Destiny,  the  Romans  instituted  a  cruel  reality  of  corporeal 
sufferings :  blood  in  streams,  the  rattle  in  the  throat  which 
signals  death,  and  the  expiring  gasp  were  the  scenes  that 
delighted  them. — This  cold  negativity  of  naked  murder  ex- 
hibits at  the  same  time  that  murder  of  all  spiritual  objective 
aim  which  had  taken  place  in  the  soul.  I  need  only  mention  in 
addition,  the  auguries,  auspices, and  Sibylline  books,  to  remind 
you  how  fettered  the  Romans  were  by  superstitions  of  all 
kinds,  and  that  they  pursued  exclusively  their  own  aims  in 
all  the  observances  in  question.  The  entrails  of  beasts, 
flashes  of  lightning,  the  night  of  birds,  the  Sibylline  dicta 
determined  the  administration  and  projects  of  the  State. 
All  this  was  in  the  hands  of  the  patricians,  who  consciously 
made  use  of  it  as  a  mere  outward,  [non-spiritual,  secular] 
means  of  constraint  to  further  their  own  ends  and  oppress 
the  people. 

The  distinct  elements  of  "Roman  religion  are,  according  to 
what  has  been  said,  subjective  religiosity  and  a  ritualism 
having  for  its  object  purely  superficial  external  aims.  Se- 
cular aims  are  leit  entirely  free,  instead  of  being  limited 


306  FAKT    III.       THE    ROMAN    WORLD. 

by  religion— in  fact  they  are  rather  justified  by  it.  The 
liomaus  are  invariably  pious,  whatever  may  be  the  sub- 
stantial character  of  their  actions.  But  as  the  sacred  prin- 
ciple here  is  nothing  but  an  empty  form,  it  is  exactly  of  such 
a  kind  that  it  can  be  an  instrument  in  the  power  of  the  de- 
votee ;  it  is  taken  possession  of  by  the  individual,  who  seeks 
his  private  objects  and  interests  j  whereas  the  truly  Divine 
possesses  on  the  contrary  a  concrete  power  in  itself.  But 
where  there  is  only  a  powerless  form,  the  individual— the 
Will,  possessing  an  independent  concreteness  able  to  make 
that  form  its  own,  and  render  it  subservient  to  its  views — 
stands  above  it.  This  happened  in  Borne  on  the  part  of  the  pa- 
tricians. The  possessioa  of  sovereignty  by  the  patricians  is 
thereby  made  firm,  sacred,  incommunicable,  peculiar:  the 
administration  of  government,  and  political  privileges,  receive 
the  character  of  hallowed  private  property.  There  does  not 
exist  therefore  a  substantial  national  unity, — not  that  beauti- 
ful and  moral  necessity  of  united  life  in  the  Polis  ;  but  every 
"  gens"  is  itself  firm,  stern,  having  its  own  Penates  and  sa- 
cra ;  each  has  its  own  political  character,  which  it  always 
preserves  :  strict,  aristocratic  severity  distinguished  the 
Claudii ;  benevolence  towards  the  people,  the  Valerii ;  noble- 
ness of  spirit,  the  Cornelii.  Separation  and  limitation  was 
extended  even  to  marriage,  for  the  connubia  of  patricians  with 
plebeians  were  deemed  profane.  But  in  that  very  subjectivity 
of  religion  we  find  also  the  principle  of  arbitrariness:  and  while 
on  the  one  hand  we  have  arbitrary  choice  invoking  religion 
to  bolster  up  private  possession,  we  have  on  the  other  hand  the 
revolt  of  arbitrary  choice  against  religion.  Eor  the  same  or- 
der of  things  can,  on  the  one  side,  be  regarded  as  privileged 
by  its  religious  form,  and  on  the  other  side  wear  the  aspect 
of  being  merely  a  matter  of  choice — of  arbitrary  volition  on 
the  part  of  man.  When  the  time  was  come  for  it  to  be 
degraded  to  the  rank  of  a  mere  form,  it  was  necessarily 
known  and  treated  as  a  form, — trodden  underfoot, — represen- 
ted as  formalism. —  The  inequality  which  enters  into  the  do- 
main of  sacred  things  forms  the  transition  from  religion  to 
the  bare  reality  of  political  life.  The  consecrated  inequality  of 
will  and  of  private  property  constitutes  the  fundamental 
condition  of  tbn  change.  The  Itoman  princijle  admits  of 
aristocracy  aloue  as  the  constitution  proper  to  it,  but  which 


SECT    I.       HISTORY    TO    THE    SECOND    PUfflC   WAR.      307 

directly  manifests  itself  only  in  an  antithetical  form— inter- 
nal inequality.  Only  from  necessity  and  the  pressure  of 
adverse  circumstances  is  this  contradiction  momentarily 
smoothed  over  ;  for  it  involves  a  duplicate  power,  the  stern- 
ness and  malevolent  isolation  of  whose  components  can  only 
be  mastered  and  bound  together  by  a  still  greater  sternness, 
into  a  unity  maintained  by  force 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ROME  TO  THE  SECOND  PUNIC  WAR. 

IN  the  first  period,  several  successive  stages  display 
their  characteristic  varieties.  The  Roman  State  here  exhibits 
its  first  phase  of  growth,  under  Kings;  then  it  receives  a  re- 
publican constitution,  at  whose  head  stand  Consuls.  The 
struggle  between  patricians  and  plebeians  begins  ;  and  after 
this  has  been  set  at  rest  by  the  concession  of  the  plebeian 
demands,  there  ensues  a  state  of  contentment  in  the  internal 
affairs  of  Rome,  and  it  acquires  strength  to  combat  victoriously 
with  the  nation  that  preceded  ifc  on  the  stage  of  general  his- 
tory. As  regards  the  accounts  of  the  first  Roman  kings,  every 
datum  has  met  with  flat  contradiction  as  the  result  of  criti- 
cism ;  but  it  is  going  too  far  to  deny  them  all  credibility. 
Seven  kings  in  all,  are  mentioned  by  tradition  ;  and  even  the 
*  Higher  Criticism'  is  obliged  to  recognize  the  last  links  in  the 
series  as  perfectly  historical.  Romulus  is  called  the  founder  of 
this  union  of  freebooters  ;  he  organized  it  into  a  military  state. 
Although  the  traditions  respecting  him  appear  fabulous,  they 
only  contain  what  is  in  accordance  with  the  Roman  Spirit 
as  above  described.  To  the  second  king,  Nurna,  is  ascribed 
the  introduction  of  the  religious  ceremonies.  This  trait  is 
very  remarkable  from  its  implying  that  religion  was  intro- 
duced later  than  political  union,  while  among  other  peoples 
religious  traditions  make  their  appearance  in  the  remotest 
periods  and  before  all  civil  institutions.  The  king  was  at 
the  sane  time  A  priest  (rex  is  referred  by  etymologists  to 
to  sacrifice.)  As  is  the  case  with  states  generally, 


008  PAltT    111.       TI1L    HOMAS    WORLD. 

the  Political  was  at  first  united  with  the  Sacerdotal,  and  a  the- 
ocratical  state  of  things  prevailed.  The  King  stood  here  at 
the  head  of  those  who  enjoyed  privileges  in  virtue  of  the 
sacra. 

The  separation  of  the  distinguished  and  powerful  citizens 
as  senators  and  patricians  took  place  as  early  as  the  first 
kings.     Romulus  is  said  to  have  appointed  100  patres,  res- 
pecting which  however  the  Higher  Criticism  is  sceptical.    In 
religion,  arbitrary     ceremonies — the    sacra — became    fixed 
marks  of  distinction,  and  peculiarities  of  theffentes  and  ordeis. 
The  internal  organization  of  the  State  was  gradually  realized. 
Livy  says  that  as  Numa  established  all  divine  matters,  so 
Servius  Tu!l>us  introduced  the  different  Classes,  and  the  Cen- 
sus,  according  to  which  the  share  of  each  citizen  in  the 
administration  of  public  affairs  was  determined.     The  patri- 
cians  were  discontented  with   this  scheme,  especially   be- 
cause Servius  Tullius  abolished  a  part  of  the  debts  owed  by 
the  plebeians,  and  gave  public  lands  to  the  poorer  citizens, 
\\hich  made  them  possessors  of  landed  property.   He  divided 
the  people  into  six  classes,  of  which  the  first  together  with 
the    knights    formed   98    centuries,    the   inferior    classes 
proportionately  fewer.     Thus,  as  they  voted  by  centuries,  the 
class  first  in  rank  had  also  the  greatest  weight  in  the  State.  It 
appears  that  previously  the  patricians  had  the  power  exclu- 
sively in  their  hands,  but  that  after  Servius's  division  they  had 
merely  a  preponderance ;  which  explains  their  discontent  with 
his  institutions.      With  Servius   the  history  becomes  more 
distinct ;  and  under  him  and  his  predecessor,  the  elder  Tar- 
quinius,  traces  of  prosperity  are  exhibited.    Niebuhr  is  sur- 
prised  that   according   to    Dionysius  and  Livy,  the   most 
ancient  constitution  was  democratic,  inasmuch  as  the  vote  of 
every  citizen  had  equal  weight  in  the  assembly  of  the  people. 
But  Livy  only  says  that  Servius  abolished  the  sujf'ragium 
viritim.     Now  in  the  comitia  curiata — the  cliental  relation, 
which  absorbed  the  plebs,  extending  to  all — the  patricians 
alone  had  a  vote,  and  populus  denoted  at  that  time  only  the 
patricians.     Dionysius  therefore  does  not  contradict  himself, 
when  he  says  that  the  constitution  according  to  the  laws  of 
Romulus  was  strictly  aristocratic. 

Almost  all  the  Kings  were  foreigners, — a    circumstance 


SECT.    t.      HISTOltf    TO    TH2    SECOND    PUJHC    WAJt.     309 

rery  characteristic  of  the  origin  of  Rome.  Numa,  who  suc- 
ceeded the  founder  of  Rome,  was  according  to  the  tradition, 
one  of  the  Sabines— a  people  which  under  the  reign  of  Koinu- 
lus,  led  by  Tatius,  is  said  to  have  settled  on  one  of  the  Roman 
hills.  At  a  later  date  however  the  Sabiue  country  appears  as  a 
region  entirely  separated  from  the  Roman  State.  Numa  was 
followed  by  Tullus  Hostilius,  and  the  very  name  of  this  king 
points  to  his  foreign  origin.  Anew  Martins ;  the  fourth  king, 
was  the  grandson  of  Numa.  Tarquinius  Prisons  sprang 
from  a  Corinthian  family,  as  we  had  occasion  to  observe 
above.  Servius  Tullius  was  from  Corniculum,  a  conquered 
Latin  town  ;  Tarquinius  Superbus  was  descended  from  the 
elder  Tarquinius  Under  this  last  king  Rome  reached  a  high 
degree  of  prosperity  :  even  at  so  early  a  period  as  this,  a  com- 
mercial treaty  is  said  to  have  been  concluded  with  the 
Carthaginians  ;  and  to  be  disposed  to  reject  this  as  mythical 
would  imply  forgetfulness  of  the  connection  which  Rome  had, 
even  at  that  time,  with  the  Etrurians  and  other  bordering 
peoples  whose  prosperity  depended  on  trade  arid  maritime 
pursuits.  The  Romans  were  probably  even  then  acquainted 
with  the  art  of  writing,  and  already  possessed  that  clear- 
sighted comprehension  which  was  their  remarkable  character- 
istic, and  which  led  to  that  perspicuous  historical  composition 
for  which  they  are  famous. 

In  the  growth  of  the  inner  life  of  the  state,  the  power  of 
the  Patricians  had  been  much  reduced ;  and  the  kings  often 
courtedthe  support  of  the  people — as  we  see  was  frequently  the 
case  in  the  media3val  history  of  Europe — in  order  to  steal  a 
march  upon  the  Patricians.  We  have  already  observed  this 
in  Servius  Tullius.  The  last  king,  Tarquinius  Superbus, 
consulted  the  senate  but  little  in  state  affairs ;  he  also  neglected 
to  supply  the  place  of  its  deceased  members,  and  acted  in* 
every  respect  as  if  he  aimed  at  its  utter  dissolution.  Then 
ensued  a  state  of  political  excitement  which  only  needed  an 
occasion  to  break  out  into  open  revolt.  An  insult  to  the  ho- 
nour of  a  matron — the  i  nvasion  of  that  sanctum  sanctorum — 
ny  the  son  of  the  king,  supplied  such  an  occasion.  The  kings 
were  banished  in  the  year  244  of  the  City  and  510  of  the 
Christian  Era  (that  is,  'if  the  tnrildiiig  of  Rome  is  to  be  dated 
753  B.C.)  and  the  royal  dignity  abolished  for  ever. 

The  Kings  were  expelled  by  the  patricians,  not  by  the 


310  PART  III.   THE  ROMAN  WORLD. 

plebeians  ;    if  therefore  the  patricians  are  to  be  regarded  33 
possessed  of  "  divine  right"  as  being  a  sacred  race,  it  is  wor- 
thy of  note  that  we  find  them  here  contravening  such  legiti- 
mation ;  for  the  King  was  their  High  Priest.  We  observe  on 
this  occasion  witli  what  dignity  the  sanctity  of  marriage  was 
invested   in  the   eyes   of  the  Romans.      The   principle  of 
subjectivity  and  piety  (pudor)  was  with  them  the  religious 
and  guarded  element ;  and  its  violation  becomes  the  occasion 
of  the  expulsion  of  the  Kings,  and  later  on  of  the  Decem- 
A  irs  too.     We  find  monogamy  therefore  also  looked  upon  by 
the  Romans  as  an  understood  thing.     It  was  not  introduced 
by  an  express  law  ;  we  have  nothing  but  an  incidental  testi- 
mony in  the  Institutes,  where  it  is  said  that  marriages  un- 
der  certain   conditions   of  relationship   are  not   allowable, 
because  a  man  may  not  have  two  wives.     It  is  not  until  the 
reign  of  Diocletian  that  we  find  a  law  expressly  determining 
that   no   one   belonging  to   the    Roman  empire  may  have 
two  wives,  "  since  according  to  a  praetorian  edict  also,  infamy 
attaches  to  such  a  condition"  (cum  etiam  in  edicto  praBtoris 
hujusmodi  viri  infamia  notati  sunt.)       Monogamy  therefore 
is  regarded  as  naturally  valid,   and   is   based  on   the   prin- 
ciple of  subjectivity. — Lastly,  we   must  also  observe   that 
royalty  was  not  abrogated  here  as  in  Greece    by  suicidal 
destruction   on   the  part  of  the  royal  races,  but  was  ex- 
terminated in  hate.     The  King,  himself  the  chief  priest,  had 
been  guilty  of  the  grossest  profanation  ;  the  principle  of  sub- 
jectivity revolted  against  the  deed,  and  the  patricians,  there- 
by elevated  to  a  sense  of  independence,  threw  off  the  yoke 
of  royalty.      Possessed  by  the  same  feeling,  the  plebs  at  a 
later  date  rose  against  the  patricians,  and  the  Latins  and  the 
Allies  against  the  Romans ;  until  the  equality  of  the   social 
units  was  restored  through  the  whole  Roman  dominion,  (a 
multitude  of  slaves,  too,  being  emancipated)  and  they  were 
held  together  by  simple  Despotism. 

Livy  remarks  that  Brutus  hit  upon  the  right  epoch  for  the 
expulsion  of  the  kings,  for  that  if  it  had  taken  place  earlier, 
the  state  would  have  suffered  dissolution.  What  would  have 
happened,  he  asks,  if  this  homeless  crowd  had  been  liberated 
earlier,  when  living  together  had  not  yet  produced  a  mutual 
conciliation  of  dispositions  ? — The  constitution  now  became 
in  name  republican.  If  we  look  at  the  matter  more  closely 
it  is  evident  (Livy  ii.  1.)  that  no  other  essential  change  took 


SECT.    I.       HISTORY    TO    THE    SECOND    PU<*IC    WAR.       311 

place  than  the  transference  of  the  power  which  was  previously 
permanent  in  the  King,  to  two  annual  Consuls.  These  two, 
equal  in  power,  managed  military  and  judicial  as  well  as  ad- 
ministrative business ;  for  praetors,  as  supreme  judges,  do 
not  appear  till  a  later  date. 

At  first  all  authority  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  consuls; 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  republic,  externally  and  internally, 
the  state  was  in  evil  plight.  In  the  Roman  history  a  period 
occurs  as  troubled  as  that  in  the  Greek  which  followed  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  dynasties.  The  Romans  had  first  to  sustain  a 
severe  conflict  with  their  expelled  King,  who  had  sought  and 
found  help  from  the  Etrurians.  In  the  war  against  Porsena 
the  Romans  Jost  all  their  conquests,  and  even  their  indepen- 
dence :  they  were  compelled  to  lay  down  their  arms  and  to 
give  hostages  ;  according  to  an  expression  of  Tacitus  (Hist. 
3,  72.)  it  seems  as  if  Porsena  had  even  taken  Rome.  Soon 
after  the  expulsion  of  the  Kings  we  have  the  contest  between 
the  patricians  and  plebeians  ;  for  the  abolition  of  royalty  had 
taken  place  exclusively  to  the  advantage  of  the  aristocracy, 
to  which  the  royal  power  was  transferred,  while  the  plebs  lost 
the  protection  which  the  Kings  had  afforded  it.  All  magis- 
terial and  juridical  power,  and  all  property  in  land  was  at  this 
time  in  the  hands  of  the  patricians ;  while  the  people,  con- 
tinually dragged  out  to  war,  could  not  employ  themselves  in 
peaceful  occupations  :  handicrafts  could  not  flourish,  and  the 
only  acquisition  the  plebeians  could  make  was  their  share  in 
the  booty.  The  patricians  had  their  territory  and  soil  cul- 
tivated by  slaves,  and  assigned  some  of  their  land  to  their 
clients,  who  on  condition  of  paying  taxes  and  contributions, 
— as  tenant  cultivators,  therefore — had  the  usufruct  of  it.  This 
relation,  on  account  of  the  form  in  which  the  dues  were  paid 
by  the  Clieutes,  was  very  similar  to  vassalage :  they  were 
obliged  to  give  contributions  towards  the  marriage  of  the 
daughters  of  the  Patronus,  to  ransom  him  or  his  sons  when 
in  captivity,  to  assist  them  in  obtaining  magisterial  offices, 
und  to  make  up  the  losses  sustained  in  suits  at  law.  The 
administration  of  justice  was  likewise  in  the  hands  of  the 
patricians,  and  that  without  the  limitations  of  definite  and 
written  laws;  a  desideratum  which  at  n  later  period  the  Decem- 
virs were  created  to  supply.  All  the  power  of  government 


312  PABT  III.      THE  EOMAN  WOULD. 

belonged  moreover  to  the  patricians,  for  they  were  in  posses- 
sion of  aJ  offices— first  of  the  consulship,  afterwards  of  the 
military  tribuneship  and  censorship,  (instituted  A.  u.  c. 
311) — by  which  the  actual  administration  of  government  as 
likewise  the  oversight  of  it,  was  left  to  them  alone.  Lastly, 
it  was  the  patricians  who  constituted  the  Senate.  The  ques- 
tion as  to  how  that  body  was  recruited  appears  very  im- 
portant. But  in  this  matter  no  systematic  plan  was  followed. 
Komulus  is  said  to  have  founded  the  senate,  consisting  then 
of  one  hundred  members ;  the  succeeding  kings  increased 
this  number,  and  Tarquinius  Priscus  fixed  it  at  three  hun- 
dred. Junius  Brutus  restored  the  senate,  which  had  very 
much  fallen  away,  de  novo.  In  after  times  it  would  appear 
that  the  censors  and  sometimes  the  dictators  filled  up  the 
vacant  places  in  the  senate.  In  the  second  Punic  War, 
A.U.C.  538,  a  dictator  was  chosen,  who  nominated  177  new 
senators:  he  selected  those  who  had  been  invested  with 
curule  dignities,  the  plebeian  jEdiles,  Tribunes  of  the  People 
ami  Quaestors,  citizens  who  had  gained  spolia  opima  or  the 
corona  civica.  Under  Ccesar  the  number  of  the  senators  was 
raised  to  eight  hundred ;  Augustus  reduced  it  to  six  hun- 
dred. It  has  been  regarded  as  great  negligence  on  the  part 
of  the  Roman  historians,  that  they  give  us  so  little  informa- 
tion respecting  the  composition  and  redintegration  of  the 
senate.  But  this  point  which  appears  to  us  to  be  invested 
with  infinite  importance,  was  not  of  so  much  moment  to  the 
Romans  at  large ;  they  did  not  attach  so  much  weight  to  formal 
arrangements,  for  their  principal  concern  was,  how  the 
government  was  conducted.  How  in  fact  can  we  suppose 
the  constitutional  rights  of  the  ancient  Romans  to  have  been 
so  well  defined,  and  that  at  a  time  which  is  even  regarded  as 
mythical,  and  its  traditionary  history  as  epical  ? 

The  people  were  in  some  such  oppressed  condition  as,  e.g. 
the  Irish  were  a  few  years  ago  in  the  British  Isles,  while  they 
remained  at  the  same  time  entirely  excluded  from  the 
government.  Often  they  revolted  and  made  a  secession 
from  the  city.  Sometimes  they  also  refused  military  service  ; 
yet  it  always  remains  a  very  striking  fact  that  the  senate 
couJd  so  long  resist  superior  numbers  irritated  by  oppression 
and  practised  iii  war  5  for  the  main  struggle  lasted  for  more 


SJsiCT.    I.       HISTOKY    TO    THE    SECOND    PUT^IO    WA.ll.       313 

than  a  hundred  years.  In  the  fact  that  the  people  could  PO 
long  be  kept  in  check  is  manifested  its  respect  for  legal 
order  and  the  sacra.  But  of  necessity  the  plebeians  at  last 
secured  their  righteous  demands,  and  their  debts  were  often 
remitted.  The  severity  of  the  patricians  their  creditors, 
the  debts  due  to  whom  they  had  to  discharge  by  slave-work, 
drove  the  plebs  to  revolts.  At  first  it  demanded  and  re- 
ceived only  what  ithad  already  enjoyedunder  thekings — landed 
property  and  protection  against  the  powerful.  It  received 
assignments  of  land,  and  Tribunes  of  the  People  — func- 
tionaries that  is  to  say,  who  had  the  power  to  put  a  veto  on 
every  decree  of  the  senate.  When  this  office  commenced,  the 
number  of  tribunes  was  limited  to  two  :  later  there  were  ten 
of  them ;  which  however  was  rather  injurious  to  the  plebs, 
since  all  that  the  senate  had  to  do  was  to  gain  over  one  of 
the  tribunes,  in  order  to  thwart  the  purpose  of  all  the  rest 
by  his  single  opposition.  The  piebs  obtained  at  the  same  time 
the  provocatio  ad  populum :  that  is,  in  every  case  of  magisterial 
oppression,  the  condemned  person  might  appeal  to  the  deci- 
sion of  the  people  — a  privilege  of  infinite  importance  to  the 
plebs,  and  which  especially  irritated  t'ie  patricians.  At  the 
repeated  desire  of  the  people  the  Decemviri  were  nominated — 
the  Tribunate  of  the  People  being  suspended — to  supply  the 
desideratum  of  a  determinate  legislation  ;  they  perverted,  as 
is  well  known,  their  unlimited  power  to  tyranny  ;  and  were 
driven  from  power  on  an  occasion  entailing  similar  disgrace 
to  that  which  led  to  the  punishment  of  the  Kings.  The  de- 
pendence of  the  clientela  was  in  the  meantime  weakened; 
after  the  decemviral  epoch  the  clientes  are  less  and  less  pro- 
minent and  are  merged  in  the  plebs,  which  adopts  resolu- 
tions (plebiscifa)  ;  the  senate  by  itself  could  only  issue 
senatus  consults,  and  the  tribunes,  as  well  as  the  senate, 
could  now  impede  the  comitia  and  elections.  By  degrees  the 
plebeians  effected  their  admissibility  to  all  dignities  and 
offices  ;  but  at  first  a  plebeian  consul,  aedile,  censor,  &c.  was  not 
equal  to  the  patrician  one,  on  account  of  the  sacra  which  the 
latter  kept  in  his  hands  ;  and  a  long  time  intervened  after  this 
concession  before  a  plebeian  actually  became  a  consul.  It  was 
the  tribunus  plebis,  Licinius,  who  established  the  whole 
cycle  of  these  political  arrangements, — in  the  second  half  c  f 
the  fourth  century,  A.  u.  c.  387.  It  was  he  also  who  chiefly 


314  PAET    III.      THE    ROM  AX    WORLD. 

commenced  the  agitation  for  the  lex  affraria,  respecting 
which  so  much  has  been  written  and  debated  among  the 
learned  of  the  day.  The  agitators  for  this  law  excited  during 
every  period  very  great  commotions  in  Borne.  The  plebeians 
were  practically  excluded  from  almost  all  the  landed  property, 
and  the  object  of  the  Agrarian  Laws  was  to  provide  lands  for 
them — partly  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome,  partly  in  the 
conquered  districts,  to  which  colonies  were  to  be  then  led  out. 
In  the  time  of  the  Republic  we  frequently  see  military  leaders 
assigning  lands  to  the  people  ;  but  in  every  case  they 
were  accused  of  striving  after  royalty,  because  it  was  the 
kings  who  had  exalted  the  plebs.  The  Agrarian  Law  re- 
quired that  no  citizen  should  possess  more  than  five  hundred 
jugera  :  the  patricians  were  consequently  obliged  to  surrender 
a  large  part  of  their  property.  Niebulir  in  particular  has 
undertaken  extensive  researches  respecting  the  agrarian  laws, 
and  has  conceived  himself  to  have  made  great  and  important 
discoveries:  he  says,  viz.  that  an  infringement  of  the  sacred 
right  of  property  was  never  thought  of,  but  that  the  state 
had  only  assigned  a  portion  of  the  public  lands  for  the  use  of 
the  plebs,  having  always  had  the  right  of  disposing  of  tkem 
as  its  own  property.  I  only  remark  in  passing  that  Hege- 
wisch  had  made  this  discovery  before  Niebuhr,  and  that 
Niebuhr  derived  the  particular  data  on  which  his  asser- 
tion rests  from  Appian  and  Plutarch ;  that  is  from  Greek 
authors,  respecting  whom  he  himself  allows  that  we  should 
have  recourse  to  them  only  in  an  extreme  case.  How 
often  does  Livy,  as  well  as  Cicero  and  others,  speak  of  the 
Agrarian  laws,  while  nothing  definite  can  be  interred  from 
their  statements! — This  is  another  proof  of  the  inaccu- 
racy of  the  Roman  historians.  The  whole  affair  ends  in  no- 
thing but  a  useless  question  of  jurisprudence.  The  land 
which  the  patricians  had  taken  into  possession  or  in  which 
colonies  settled,  was  originally  public  land  ;  but  it  also  cer- 
tainly belonged  to  those  in  possession,  and  our  information 
is  not  at  all  promoted  by  the  assertion  that  it  always  remained 
public  land.  This  discovery  of  Niebuhr's  turns  upon  a  very 
immaterial  distinction,  existing  perhaps  in  his  ideas,  but 
not  in  reality. — The  Licinianlaw  was  indeed  carried,  but 
soon  transgressed  and  utterly  disregarded.  Licinius  Stole 
uimself,  who  had  first  '  agitated '  for  the  law,  was  punished 


S2CT.    I.       HISTORY    TO    THE    SECOND    PITtflC    WAll.      315 

because  he  possessed  a  larger  property  in  land  than  was  al- 
lowed, and  the  patricians  opposed  the  execution  of  the  law 
with  the  greatest  obstinacy.  We  must  here  call  especial  at- 
tention to  the  distinction  which  exists  between  the  Roman, 
the  Greek,  and  our  own  circumstances.  Our  civil  society  rests 
on  other  principles,  and  in  it  such  measures  are  not  necessary. 
Spartans  and  Athenians,  who  had  not  arrived  at  such  an  ab- 
stract idea  of  the  State  as  was  so  tenaciously  held  by  the 
Romans,  did  not  trouble  themselves  with  abstract  rights,  but 
simply  desired  that  the  citizens  should  have  the  means  of 
subsistence ;  and  they  required  of  the  state  that  it  should 
take  care  that  such  should  be  the  case. 

This  is  the  chief  point  in  the  first  period  of  Roman  History 
— that  the  plebs  attained  the  right  of  being  eligible  to  the 
higher  political  offices,  and  that  by  a  share  which  they  too 
managed  to  obtain  in  the  land  and  soil,  the  means  of  subsis- 
tence were  assured  to  the  citizens.  By  this  union  of  the 
patriciate  and  the  plebs,  Home  first  attained  true  internal 
consistency ;  and  only  after  this  had  been  realized  could  the 
Roman  power  develope  itself  externally.  A  period  of  satis- 
fied absorption  in  the  common  interest  ensues, and  the  citizens 
are  weary  of  internal  struggles,  "When  after  civil  discords 
nations  direct  their  energies  outward,  they  appear  in  their 
greatest  strength ;  for  the  previous  excitement  continues, 
and  no  longer  having  its  object  within,  seeks  for  it  without. 
This  direction  given  to  the  Roman  energies  was  able  for  a  mo- 
ment to  conceal  the  defect  of  that  union  ;  equilibrium  was 
restored,  but  without  an  essential  centre  of  unity  and  sup- 
port. The  contradiction  that  existed  could  not  but  break  out 
again  fearfully  at  a  later  period  ;  but  previously  to  this  time 
the  greatness  of  Rome  had  to  display  itself  in  War  and  the 
conquest  of  the  world.  The  power,  the  wealth,  the  glory 
derived  from  these  wars,  as  also  the  difficulties  to  which  they 
led,  kept  the  Romans  together  as  regards  the  internal  affairs 
of  the  state.  Their  courage  and  discipline  secured  their  vic- 
tory. As  compared  with  the  Greek  or  Macedonian,  the  Ro- 
man art  of  war  has  special  peculiarities.  The  strength  of  the 
phalanx  lay  in  its  mass  and  in  its  massive  character.  The 
Roman'  legions  also  present  a  close  array,  but  they  had 
at  the  same  time  an  articulated  organization :  they  united 
the  two  extremes  of  massiveuess  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  dii> 


816  PART    til.       Till     KOMAJ*    WORLD. 

persion  into  light  troops  on  the  other  hand :  they  held 
firmly  together,  while  at  the  same  time  they  were  capable  of 
ready  expansion.  Archers  and  slingers  preceded  the  main 
body  of  the  Roman  army  when  they  attacked  the  enemy, — 
afterwards  leaving  the  decision  to  the  sword. 

It  would  be  a  wearisome  task  to  pursue  the  wars  of  the  Ro- 
mans in  Italy ;  partly  because  they  are  in  themselves  unim- 
portant— even  the  often  empty  rhetoric  of  the  generals  in  Livy 
cannot  very  much  increase  the  interest — partly  on  account  of 
the  unintelligent  character  of  the  Roman  annalists,  in  whose 
pages  we  see  the  Romans  carrying  on  war  only  with  "enemies" 
without  learning  anything  farther  of  their  individuality — e.g. 
the  Etruscans,  the  Samnites,  the  Ligurians,  with  whom  they 
carried  on  wans  during  many  hundred  years. — It  is  singular  in 
regard  to  these  transactions  that  the  Romans,  who  have  the 
justification  conceded  by  World-History  on  their  side,  should 
also  claim  for  themselves  the  minor  justification  in  respect 
to  manifestoes  and  treaties  on  occasion  of  minor  infringe- 
ments of  them,  and  maintain  it  as  it  were  after  the 
fashion  of  advocates.  But  in  political  complications  ol 
this  kind,  either  party  may  take  offence  at  the  conduct  of  the 
other,  if  it  pleases,  and  deems  it  expedient  to  be  offended. — 
The  Romans  had  long  and  severe  contests  to  maintain  with 
the  Samnites,  the  Etruscans,  the  Gauls,  the  Marsi,  the  Um- 
brians  and  the  Bruttii,  before  they  could  make  themselves 
masters  of  the  whole  of  Italy.  Their  dominion  was  extended 
thence  in  a  southerly  direction  ;  they  gained  a  secure  footing 
in  Sicily,  where  the  Carthaginians  had  long  carried  on  war; 
then  they  extended  their  power  towards  the  west :  from 
Sardinia  and  Corsica  they  went  to  Spain.  They  thus  soon 
came  into  frequent  contact  with  the  Carthaginians,  and  were 
obliged  to  form  a  naval  power  in  opposition  to  them.  This 
transition  was  easier  in  ancient  times  than  it  would  perhaps 
be  now,  when  long  practice  and  superior  knowledge  are  re- 
quired for  maritime  service.  The  mode  of  warfare  at  sea  was 
not  very  different  from  that  on  land. 

We  have  thus  reached  the  end  of  the  first  epoch  of  Roman 
History,  in  which  the  Romans  by  their  retail  military  transac- 
tions had  become  capitalists  in  a  strength  proper  to  them- 
selves, and  with  which  they  were  to  appear  on  the  theatre  of 


SECT.  II.     THE  SECOND  PUNJC  TVAB  TO  THE  EMPEEORS.    317 

the  world.  The  Roman  dominion  was,  on  the  whole,  not  yet 
very  greatly  extended  :  only  a  few  colonies  had  settled  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Po,  and  on  the  south  a  considerable  power 
confronted  that  of  Rome.  It  was  the  Second  Punic  War, 
therefore,  that  gave  the  impulse  to  its  terrible  collision  with 
the  most  powerful  states  of  the  time;  through  it  the  Romans 
came  into  contact  with  Macedonia,  Asia,  Syria,  and  subse- 
quently also  with  Egypt.  Italy  and  Rome  remained  the  centre 
of  their  great  far-stretching  empire,  but  this  centre  was,  as  al- 
ready remarked,  not  the  less  an  artificial,  forced,  and  compul- 
sory one.  This  grand  period  of  the  contact  of  Rome  with 
other  states,  and  of  the  manifold  complications  thence  arising, 
has  been  depicted  by  the  noble  Achaean,  Polybius,  whose  fate 
it  was  to  observe  the  fall  of  his  country  through  the  dis- 
graceful passions  of  the  Greeks  and  the  baseness  and  inexor- 
able persistency  of  the  Romans. 


SECTION  II. 

ROME  FROM  THE  SECOND  PUNIC  WAR  TO   THE   EMPERORS. 

THE  second  period,  according  to  our  division,  begins  with 
the  Second  Punic  War,  that  epoch  which  decided  and 
stamped  a  character  upon  Roman  dominion.  In  the  first 
Punic  War  the  Romans  had  shewn  that  they  had  become  a 
match  for  the  mighty  Carthage,  which  possessed  a  great  part 
of  the  coast  of  Africa  and  southern  Spain,  and  had  gained  a 
firm  footing  in  Sicily  and  Sardinia.  The  second  Punic  War 
laid  the  might  of  Carthage  prostrate  in  the  dust.  The  proper 
element  of  that  state  was  the  sea ;  but  it  had  no  original 
territory,  formed  no  nation,  had  no  national  army  ;  its  hosts 
were  composed  of  the  troops  of  subjugated  and  allied  peoples. 
In  spite  of  this,  the  great  Hannibal  with  such  a  host,  formed 
from  the  most  diverse  nations,  brought  Rome  near  to  destruc- 
tion. Without  any  support  he  maintained  his  position  in 
Italy  for  sixteen  years  against  Roman  patience  and  persever- 
ance; during  which  time  however  the  Scipios  conquered  Spain 


318  PART    III.      TEE    UOMAU   WOULD. 

and  entered  into  alliances  with  the  princes  of  Africa.  Han- 
nibal was  at  last  compelled  to  hasten  to  the  assistance  of  his 
hard-pressed  country  ;  he  lost  the  battle  of  Zama  in  the  year 
552  A.  u.  c.  and  after  six  and  thirty  years  revisited  his  pater- 
nal city,  to  which  he  was  now  obliged  to  offer  pacific  counsels. 
The  second  Punic  War  thus  eventually  established  the  un- 
disputed power  of  Borne  over  Carthage ;  it  occasioned  the 
hostile  collision  of  the  Romans  with  the  king  of  Macedonia, 
who  was  conquered  five  years  later.  Now  Antiochus,  the  king 
of  Syria,  is  involved  in  the  melee.  He  opposed  a  huge  power 
to  the  Romans,  was  beaten  at  Thermopylae  and  Magnesia,  and 
was  compelled  to  surrender  to  the  Romans  Asia  Minor  as  far 
as  the  Taurus.  After  the  conquest  of  Macedonia  both  that 
country  and  Greece  were  declared  free  by  the  Romans, — a 
declaration  whose  meaning  we  have  already  investigated,  in 
treating  of  the  preceding  Historical  nation.  It  was  not 
till  this  time  that  the  Third  Punic  War  commenced,  for  Car- 
thage had  once  more  raised  its  head  and  excited  the  jealousy 
of  the  Romans.  After  long  resistance  it  was  taken  and  laid 
in  ashes.  Nor  could  the  Aeha?an  league  no\v  long  maintain 
itself  in  the  face  of  Roman  ambition :  the  Romans  were 
eager  for  war,  destroyed  Corinth  in  the  same  year  as  Carthage, 
and  made  Greece  a  province.  The  fall  of  Carthage  and  the 
subjugation  of  Greece  were  the  central  points  from  which 
the  Romans  gave  its  vast  extent  to  their  sovereignty. 

Rome  seemed  now  to  have  attained  perfect  security ;  no 
external  power  confronted  it :  she  was  the  mistress  of  the 
Mediterranean — that  is  of  the  media  terra  of  all  civilization. 
In  this  period  of  victory,  its  morally  great  and  fortunate 
personages,  especially  the  Scipios,  attract  our  attention. 
They  were  morally  fortunate — although  the  greatest  of  the 
Scipios  met  with  an  end  outwardly  unfortunate — because 
they  devoted  their  energies  to  their  country  during  a  period 
when  it  enjoyed  a  sound  and  unimpaired  condition.  But  after 
the  feeling  of  patriotism— the  dominant  instinct  of  Rome 
— had  been  satisfied,  destruction  immediately  invades  the 
state  regarded  en  masse ;  the  grandeur  of  individual  character 
becomes  stronger  in  intensity,  and  more  vigorous  in  the  use 
of  means,  on  account  of  contrasting  circumstances.  We 
see  the  internal  contradiction  of  Rome  now  beginning 
to  manifest  itself  in  another  form  ;  and  the  epoch  which  con- 


SECT.  II.     THE    SECOND    PUNIC    WAK    TO  THE   EMPERORS.  319 

eludes  the  second  period  is  also  the  second  mediation  of  that 
contradiction.  "VVe  observed  that  contradiction  previously 
in  the  struggle  of  the  patricians  against  the  plebeians  :  now 
it  assumes  the  form  of  private  interest,  contravening  pa- 
triotic sentiment ;  and  respect  for  the  state  no  longer  holds 
these  opposites  in  the  necessary  equipoise.  Bather,  we 
observe  now  side  by  side  with  wars  for  conquest,  plunder 
and  glory,  the  fearful  spectacle  of  civil  discords  in  Rome,  and 
intestine  wars.  There  does  not  follow,  as  among  the  Greeks 
after  the  Median  wars,  a  period  of  brilliant  splendour  in 
culture,  art  and  science,  in  which  Spirit  enjoys  inwardly  and 
ideally  that  which  it  had  previously  achieved  in  the  world  ol 
action.  If  inward  satisfaction  was  to  follow  the  period  oi 
that  external  prosperity  in  war,  the  principle  of  Roman  life 
must  be  more  concrete.  But  if  there  were  such  a  concrete 
life  to  evolve  as  an  object  of  consciousness  from  the  depths  of 
their  souls  by  imagination  and  thought,  what  would  it  have 
been  !  Their  chief  spectacles  were  triumphs,  the  treasures 
gained  in  war,  and  captives  from  all  nations,  unsparingly  sub- 
jected to  the  yoke  of  abstract  sovereignty.  The  concrete 
element,  which  the  Romans  actually  find  within  themselves, 
is  only  this  uuspiritual  unity,  and  any  definite  thought  or  feel- 
ing of  a  non-abstract  kind,  can  lie  only  in  the  idiosyncrasy  of 
individuals.  The  tension  of  virtue  is  now  relaxed,  because  the 
danger  is  past.  At  the  time  of  the  first  Punic  War,  necessity 
united  the  hearts  of  all  for  the  saving  of  Rome.  In  the  fol- 
lowing wars  too,  writh  Macedonia,  Syria,  and  the  Gauls  in 
Upper  Italy,  the  existence  of  the  entire  state  was  still  con- 
cerned. But  after  the  danger  from  Carthage  and  Macedon 
was  over,  the  subsequent  wars  were  more  and  more  the 
mere  consequences  of  victories,  and  nothing  else  was  needed 
than  to  gather  in  their  fruits.  The  armies  were  used  for 
particular  expeditions,  suggested  by  policy,  or  for  the  ad- 
vantages of  individuals, — for  acquiring  wealth,  glory,  sove- 
reignty in  the  abstract.  The  relation  to  other  nations  was 
pure'lj  that  of  force.  The  national  individuality  of  peoples 
did  not,  as  early  as  the  time  of  the  Romans,  excite  respect, 
as  is  the  case  in  modern  times.  The  various  peoples  were 
not  yet  recognized  as  legitimated  ;  the  various  states  had  not 
yet  acknowledged  each  other  as  real  essential  existences. 
Equal  right  to  existence  entails  an  union  of  states,  sujh  as 


320  P-UiT    III.      THE    ItOMAN    T7OELD. 

exists  in  modern  Europe,  or  a  condition  like  that  of  Greece, 
in  which  the  states  had  an  equal  right  to  existence  under  the 
protection  of  the  Delphic  god.  The  Romans  do  not  enter 
into  such  a  relation  to  the  other  nations,  for  their  god  is 
only  the  Jupiter  Capitolinus ;  neither  do  they  respect  the 
sacra  of  the  other  nations  (any  more  than  the  plebeians  those 
of  the  patricians)  ;  but  as  conquerors  in  the  strict  sense  of 
the  term,  they  plunder  the  Palladia  of  the  nations.  Rome 
kept  standing  armies  in  the  conquered  provinces,  and  pro- 
consuls and  propraetors  were  sent  into  them  as  viceroys. 
The  Equites  collected  the  taxes  and  tributes,  which  they 
farmed  under  the  State.  A  net  of  such  fiscal  farmers  (publi- 
cani)  was  thus  drawn  over  the  whole  Roman  world.  —  Cato 
used  to  say,  after  every  deliberation  of  the  senate  :  "  Cete- 
rum  censeo  Carthaginem  esse  delendam  :"  and  Cato  was  a 
thorough  Roman.  The  Roman  principle  thereby  exhibits 
itself  as  the  cold  abstraction  of  sovereignty  and  power,  as  the 
pure  egotism  of  the  will  in  opposition  to  others,  involving  no 
moral  element  of  determination,  but  appearing  in  a  concrete 
form  only  in  the  shape  of  individual  interests.  Increase  in 
the  number  of  provinces  issued  in  the  aggrandisement  of 
individuals  within  Rome  itself,  and  the  corruption  thence 
arising.  From  Asia,  luxury  and  debauchery  were  brought 
to  Rome.  Riches  flowed  in  after  the  fashion  of  spoils 
in  war,  and  were  not  the  fruit  of  industry  and  honest  ac- 
tivity ;  in  the  same  way  as  the  marine  had  arisen,  not  from 
the  necessities  of  commerce,  but  with  a  warlike  object.  The 
Roman  state,  drawing  its  resources  from  rapine,  came  to  be 
rent  in  sunder  by  quarrels  about  dividing  the  spoil.  For  the 
first  occasion  of  the  breaking  out  of  contention  within  it,  was 
the  legacy  of  Attalus,  King  of  Pergamus,  who  had  bequeathed 
his  treasures  to  the  Roman  State.  Tiberius  Gracchus  came 
forward  with  the  proposal,  to  divide  it  among  the  Roman 
citizens  ;  he  likewise  renewed  the  Licinian  Agrarian  laws, 
which  had  been  entirely  set  aside  during  the  predominance 
of  individuals  in  the  state.  His  chief  object  was  to  pro- 
cure property  for  the  free  citizens,  and  to  people  Italy  with 
citizens  instead  of  slaves.  This  noble  Roman,  however,  was 
vanquished  by  the  grasping  nobles,  for  the  Roman  constitu- 
tion was  no  longer  in  a  condition  to  be  saved  by  the  consti- 
tution itself.  Caius  Gracchus,  the  brother  of  Tiberius. 


V 


SECT.    11.     THE    SECOND    PUNIC    WAR    TO  THE    EMPERORS.  321 

prosecuted  the  same  noble  aim  as  his  brother,  and  shared  the 
same  fate.  Ruin  now  broke  in  unchecked,  and  as  there 
existed  no  generally  recognized  and  absolutely  essential  object 
to  which  the  country's  energy  could  be  devoted,  individuali- 
ties and  physical  force  were  in  the  ascendant.  The  enormous 
corruption  of  Borne  displays  itself  in  the  war  with  Jugurtha, 
who  had  gained  the  senate  by  bribery,  and  so  indulged 
himself  in  the  most  atrocious  deeds  of  violence  and  crime. 
Home  was  pervaded  by  the  excitement  of  the  struggle  against 
the  Cimbri  and  Teutones,  who  assumed  a  menacing  position 
towards  the  State.  With  great  exertions  the  latter  were 
utterly  routed  in  Provence,  near  Aix ;  the  others  in 
Lombardy  at  the  Adige  by  Marius  the  conqueror  of  Ju- 
gurtha. Then  the  Italian  allies,  whose  demand  of  Roman 
citizenship  had  been  refused,  raised  a  revolt;  and  while  the 
Romans  had  to  sustain  a  struggle  against  a  vast  power  in 
Italy,  they  received  the  news,  that  at  the  command  of 
Mithridates,  80,000  Romans  had  been  put  to  death  in  Asia 
Minor.  Mithridates  was  King  of  Pontus,  governed  Colchis 
and  the  lands  of  the  Black  Sea,  as  far  as  the  Tauric  peninsula, 
and  could  summon  to  his  standard  in  his  war  with  Rome 
the  populations  of  the  Caucasus,  of  Armenia,  Mesopotamia, 
and  a  part  of  Syria,  through  his  son-in-law  Tigranes.  Sulla, 
who  had  already  led  the  Roman  hosts  in  the  Social  War, 
conquered  him.  Athens,  which  had  hitherto  been  spared, 
was  beleaguered  and  taken,  but  "  for  the  sake  of  their  fathers" 
— as  Sulla  expressed  himself— not  destroyed.  He  then  re- 
turned to  Rome,  reduced  the  popular  faction,  headed  by 
Marius  and  Cinna,  became  master  of  the  city,  and  commenced 
systematic  massacres  of  Roman  citizens  of  consideration. 
Forty  senators  and  six  hundred  knights  were  sacrificed  to 
his  ambition  and  lust  of  power. 

Mithridates  was  indeed  defeated,  but  not  overcome,  and 
was  able  to  begin  the  war  anew.  At  the  same  time,  Ser- 
torius,  a  banished  Roman,  arose  in  revolt  in  Spain,  carried 
on  a  contest  there  for  eight  years,  and  perished  only  tli rough 
treachery.  The  war  against  Mithridates  was  terminated  by 
Pompey  ;  the  King  of  Pontus  killed  himself  when  his  re- 
sources were  exhausted.  The  Servile  War  in  Italy  is  a 
contemporaneous  event.  A  great  number  of  gladiators  and 
mountaineers  had  formed  a  union  under  Spartacus,  but 

y 


822  PART  III.   THE  KOMAN  WORLD. 

'were  vanquished  by  Crassus.  To  this  confusion  was  added 
the  universal  prevalence  of  piracy,  which  Pompey  rapidly 
reduced  by  a  large  armament. 

"We  thus  see  the  most  terrible  and  dangerous  powers  rising 
against  Home ;  yet  the  military  force  of  this  state  is  victorious 
over  all.  Great  individuals  now  appear  on  the  stage  as  during 
the  times  of  the  fall  of  Greece.  The  biographies  of  Plutarch 
are  here  also  of  the  deepest  interest.  It  was  from  the  disrup- 
tion of  the  state,  which  had  no  longer  any  consistency  or  firm- 
ness in  itself,  that  these  colossal  individualities  arose,  instinc- 
tively impelled  to  restore  that  political  unity  which  was 
no  longer  to  be  found  in  men's  dispositions.  It  is  their 
misfortune  that  they  cannot  maintain  a  pure  morality,  for 
their  course  of  action  contravenes  things  as  they  are,  and  is 
a  series  of  transgressions.  Even  the  noblest — the  Gracchi 
— were  not  merely  the  victims  of  injustice  and  violence  from 
without,  but  were  themselves  involved  in  the  corruption  and 
wrong  that  universally  prevailed.  But  that  which  these 
individuals  purpose  and  accomplish,  has  on  its  side  the 
higher  sanction  of  the  World-Spirit,  and  must  eventually 
triumph.  The  idea  of  an  organization  for  the  vast  empire 
being  altogether  absent,  the  senate  could  not  assert  the 
authority  of  government.  The  sovereignty  was  made  de- 
pendent on  the  people — that  people  which  was  now  a 
mere  mob,  and  wras  obliged  to  be  supported  by  corn  from 
the  Roman  provinces.  We  should  refer  to  Cicero  to  see 
how  all  aiiairs  of  state  were  decided  in  riotous  fashion,  and 
with  arms  in  hand,  by  the  wealth  and  power  of  the  grandees 
on  the  one  side,  and  by  a  troop  of  rabble  on  the  other.  The 
Roman  citizens  attach  themselves  to  individuals  who  natter 
them,  and  who  then  become  prominent  in  factions,  in  order 
to  make  themselves  masters  of  Rome.  Thus  we  see  in 
Pompey  and  Ca3sar  the  two  foci  of  Rome's  splendour  coming 
into  hostile  opposition  :  on  the  one  side,  Pompey  with 
the  Senate,  and  therefore  apparently  the  defender  of  the 
Republic, — on  the  other,  Caesar  with  his  legions  and  a 
superiority  of  genius.  This  contest  between  the  two  most 
powerful  individualities  could  not  be  decided  at  Rome  in  the 
Forum.  Ca3sar  made  himself  master  in  succession,  of  Italy, 
Spain,  and  Greece,  utterly  routed  his  enemy  at  Pharsalus, 
forty-eight  years  B.C.,  made  himself  sure  of  Asia,  and  so  re* 
turned  victor  to  iionie. 


V 


SECT.  IT.   PftOM  THE  SECOND  PUNIC   ff  A.R  TO  THE  EMPIRE.  323 

In  this  way  the  world-wide  sovereignty  of  Eome  became 
the  property  of  a  single  possessor.     This  important  change 
must  not  be  regarded  as  a  thing  of  chance ;  it  was  necessary 
— postulated  by  the  circumstances.  The  democratic  constitu- 
tion could  no  longer  be  really  maintained  in  Rome,  but  only 
kept  up  in  appearance.     Cicero,  who  had  procured  himself 
great  respect  through  his  high  oratorical  talent,  and  whose 
learning  acquired  him    considerable  influence,  always  attri- 
butes the  corrupt  state  of  the  republic  to  individuals  and  their 
passions.     Plato,  whom  Cicero  professedly  followed,  had  the 
full  consciousness  that  the  Athenian  state,  as  it  presented 
itself  to  him,  could  not  maintain  its  existence,  and  there- 
fore sketched  the  plan  of  a  perfect  constitution  accordant 
with  his  views.     Cicero,  on  the  contrary,  does  not  consider 
it  impossible  to  preserve  the  Roman  Republic,  and   only 
desiderates  some  temporary  assistance  for  it  in  its  adversity. 
The  nature  of  the  State,  and  of  the  Roman  State  in  par- 
ticular, transcends  his  comprehension.     Cato,  too,  says  of 
Caesar:    "His  virtues  be  execrated,  for  they  have  ruined 
my   country!"      But   it   was    not   the    mere    accident  of 
Caesar's    existence   that    destroyed   the    Republic  — it   was 
Necessity.      All    the  tendencies   of    the    Roman  principle 
were  to  sovereignty  and  military  force  :  it  contained  in  it  no 
spiritual  centre  which  it  could  make  the  object,  occupation, 
and  enjoyment  of  its  Spirit.     The  aim  of  patriotism — that 
of  preserving  the  State — ceases  when  the  lust  of  personal 
dominion    becomes   the    impelling    passion.     The    citizens 
were  alienated  from  the  state,  for  they  found  in  it  no  objective 
satisfaction  ;  and  the  interests  of  individuals  did  not  take  the 
same  direction  as  among  the  Greeks,  who  could  set  against 
the  incipient  corruption  of  the  practical  world,  the  noblest 
works  of  art  in  painting,  sculpture  and  poetry,  and  espe- 
cially a  highly  cultivated  philosophy.  Their  works  of  art  were 
only  what  they  had  collected  from  every  part  of  Greece,  and 
therefore  not  productions  of  their  own  ;  their  riches  were  not 
the  fruit  of  industry,  as  was  the  case  in  Athens,  but  the  result 
of  plunder.   Elegance — Culture — was  foreign  to  the  Romans 
per  se  ;  they  sought  to  obtain  it  from  the  Greeks,  and  for 
this  purpose  a  vast  number  of  Greek  slaves  were  brought  to 
Home.     Delos  was  the  centre  of  this  slave  trade,  and  it  is 
said  that  sometimes  on  a  single  day,  ten  thousand  slaves 

T  2 


324  PART    III.    THE    ROMAN    WORLD. 

wore  purchased  there.  To  the  Romans,  Greek  slaves  were 
their  poets,  their  authors,  the  superintendents  of  their 
manufactories,  the  instructors  of  their  children. 

The  Republic  could  not  longer  exist  in  Rome.  We  see, 
especially  from  Cicero's  writings,  how  all  public  affairs  were 
decided  by  the  private  authority  of  the  more  eminent  citizens 
— by  their  power,  their  wealth ;  and  what  tumultuary  pro- 
ceedings marked  all  political  transactions.  In  the  republic, 
therefore,  there  was  no  longer  any  security;  that  could  be 
looked  for  only  in  a  single  will.  Ca3sar,  who  may  be  ad- 
duced as  a  paragon  of  Roman  adaptation  of  means  to  ends, 
— who  formed  his  resolves  with  the  most  unerring  per- 
spicuity, and  executed  them  with  the  greatest  vigour  and 
practical  skill,  without  any  superfluous  excitement  of  mind 
—  Caesar,  judged  by  the  great  scope  of  history,  did  the  Right; 
since  he  furnished  a  mediating  element,  and  that  kind  of 
political  bond  which  men's  condition  required.  Caesar  effected 
two  objects  :  he  calmed  the  internal  strife,  and  at  the  same 
time  originated  a  new  one  outside  the  limits  of  the  empire. 
For  the  conquest  of  the  world  had  reached  hitherto  only  to 
the  circle  of  the  Alps,  but  Cajsar  opened  a  new  scene  of 
achievement:  he  founded  the  theatre  which  was  on  the 
point  of  becoming  the  centre  of  History.  He  then  achieved 
universal  sovereignty  by  a  struggle  which  was  decided  not 
in  Rome  itself,  but  by  his  conquest  of  the  whole  Roman 
World.  His  position  was  indeed  hostile  to  the  republic, 
but,  properly  speaking,  only  to  its  shadow;  for  all  that 
remained  of  that  republic  was  entirely  powerless.  Pompey, 
and  all  those  who  were  on  the  side  of  the  senate,  exalted 
their  dignitas  auctoritas — their  individual  rule — as  the  power 
of  the  republic;  and  the  mediocrity  which  needed  protection 
took  refuge  under  this  title.  Caesar  put  an  end  to  the  empty 
formalism  of  this  title,  made  himself  master,  and  held  to- 
gether the  Roman  world  by  force,  in  opposition  to  isolated 
factions.  Spite  of  this  we  see  the  noblest  men  of  Rome 
supposing  Caesar's  rule  to  be  a  merely  adventitious  thing, 
and  the  entire  position  of  affairs  to  be  dependent  on  his 
individuality.  So  thought  Cicero,  so  Brutus  and  Cassius. 
They  believed  that  if  this  one  individual  were  out  of  the 
way,  the  Republic  would  be  ipso  facto  restored.  Possessed 
by  this  remarkable  hallucination,  Brutus,  a  man  of  highly 


SECT.    III.    HOME    UNDEB    THE    EMl'EfcOKS.  av-5 

noble  character,  and  Cassius,  endowed  with  greater  practical 
energy  than  Cicero,  assassinated  the  man  whose  virtues  they 
appreciated.  But  it  became  immediately  manifest  that  only 
a  single  will  could  guide  the  Roman  State,  and  now  the 
Romans  were  compelled  to  adopt  that  opinion ;  since  in  all 
periods  of  the  world  a  political  revolution  is  sanctioned  in 
men's  opinions,  when  it  repeats  itself.  Thus  Napoleon  was 
twice  defeated,  and  the  Bourbons  twice  expelled.  By  repe- 
tition that  which  at  first  appeared  merely  a  matter  of  chance 
and  contingency,  becomes  a  real  and  ratified  existence. 


SECTION  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ROME    UNDER  THE   EMPERORS. 

DURING  this  period  the  Romans  come  into  contact  with 
the  people  destined  to  succeed  them  as  a  World-Historical 
nation ;  and  we  have  to  consider  that  period  in  two  essential 
aspects,  the  secular  and  the  spiritual.  In  the  secular  aspect 
two  leading  phases  must  be  specially  regarded  :  first,  the 
position  of  the  Ruler  ;  and  secondly,  the  conversion  of  mere 
individuals  into  persons— the  world  of  legal  relations. 

The  first  thing  to  be  remarked  respecting 'the  imperial 
rule,  is  that  the  Roman  government  was  so  abstracted  from 
interest,  that  the  great  transition  to  that  rule  hardly 
changed  anything  in  the  constitution.  The  popular  assem- 
blies alone  were  unsuited  to  the  new  state  of  tilings,  and 
disappeared.  The  emperor  was  princeps  senatus,  Censor, 
Consul,  Tribune :  he  united  all  their  nominally  continuing 
offices  in  himself ;  and  the  military  power — here  the  most 
essentially  important — was  exclusively  in  his  hands.  The 
constitution  was  an  utterly  unsubstantial  form,  from  which 
all  vitality,  consequently  all  might  and  power,  had  de- 
parted; and  the  only  means  of  maintaining  its  existence 
were  the  legions  which  the  Emperor  constantly  kept  in  tho 
vicinity  of  Rome.  Public  business  was  indeed  brought 
before  the  senate,  and  the  Emperor  appeared  simp'y  aa  oa« 


326  PABI  in.  THE  BOMAW 

of  its  members ;  but  the  senate  was  obliged  to  obey,  and 
whoever  ventured  to  gainsay  his  will  was  punished  with 
death,  and  his  property  confiscated.  Those  therefore  who 
had  certain  death  in  anticipation,  killed  themselves,  that  il 
they  could  do  nothing  more,  they  might  at  least  preserve 
their  property  to  their  family.  Tiberius  was  the  most 
odious  to  the  Romans  on  account  of  his  power  of  dissimula- 
tion :  he  knew  very  well  how  to  make  good  use  of  the  base- 
ness of  the  senate,  in  extirpating  those  among  them  whom 
he  feared.  The  power  of  the  Emperor  rested,  as  we  have 
said,  on  the  army,  and  the  Pratorian  body-guard  which  sur- 
rounded him.  But  the  legions,  and  especially  the  Praetorians, 
soon  became  conscious  of  their  importance,  and  arrogated  to 
themselves  the  disposal  of  the  imperial  throne.  At  first 
they  continued  to  shew  some  respect  for  the  family  of  Ca3sar 
Augustus,  but  subsequently  the  legions  chose  their  own 
generals ;  such,  viz.,  as  had  gained  their  good  will  and 
favour,  partly  by  courage  and  intelligence,  partly  also  by 
bribes,  and  indulgence  in  the  administration  of  military 
discipline. 

The  Emperors  conducted  themselves  in  the  enjoyment  of 
their  power  with  perfect  simplicity,  and  did  not  surround 
themselves  with  pomp  and  splendour  in  Oriental  fashion. 
We  find  in  them  traits  of  simplicity  which  astonish  us: 
Thus,  e.g.,  Augustus  writes  a  letter  to  Horace,  in  which  he 
reproaches  him  for  having  failed  to  address  any  poem  to  him, 
and  asks  him  whether  he  thinks  that  that  would  disgrace 
him  with  posterity.  Sometimes  the  Senate  made  an  attempt 
to  regain  its  consequence  by  nominating  the  Emperor  :  but 
their  nominees  were  either  unable  to  maintain  their  ground, 
or  could  do  so  only  by  bribing  the  Praetorians.  The  choice 
of  the  senators  and  the  constitution  of  the  senate  was  more- 
over left  entirely  to  the  caprice  of  the  Emperor.  The  politi- 
cal institutions  were  united  in  the  person  of  the  Emperor ; 
no  moral  bond  any  longer  existed  ;  the  will  of  the  Emperor 
was  supreme,  and  before  him  there  was  absolute  equality. 
The  freedmen  who  surrounded  the  Emperor  were  often  the 
mightiest  in  the  empire ;  for  caprice  recognizes  no  distinc- 
tion. In  the  person  of  the  Emperor  isolated  subjectivity 
has  gained  a  perfectly  unlimited  realization.  Spirit  has  re- 
nounced its  proper  nature,  inasmuch  as  Limitation  of  being 


SECT.  III.    ROME    UNDEE    THE    EMPERORS.  327 

and  of  volition  has  been  constituted  an  unlimited  absolute 
existence.  This  arbitrary  choice,  moreover,  has  only  onp 
limit,  the  limit  of  all  that  is  human — death  ;  «md  even  death 
became  a  theatrical  display.  Nero,  e.g.,  died  a  death,  which 
may  furnish  an  example  for  the  noblest  hero,  as  for  the  most 
resigned  of  sufferers.  Individual  subjectivity  thus  entirely 
emancipated  from  control,  has  no  inward  life,  no  prospective 
nor  retrospective  emotions,  no  repentance,  nor  hope, nor  fear — 
not  even  thought ;  for  all  these  involve  fixed  conditions  and 
aims,  while  here  every  condition  is  purely  contingent.  The 
springs  of  action  are  none  other  than  desire,  lust,  passion, 
fancy — in  short,  caprice  absolutely  unfettered.  It  finds  so 
little  limitation  in  the  will  of  others,  that  the  relation  of  will 
to  will  may  be  called  that  of  absolute  sovereignty  to  absolute 
slavery.  In  the  whole  known  world,  no  will  is  imagined 
that  is  not  subject  to  the  will  of  the  Emperor.  But  under 
the  sovereignty  of  that  One,  everything  is  in  a  condition  of 
order  ;  for  as  it  actually  is  [as  the  Emperor  has  willed  it],  it 
is  in  due  order,  and  government  consists  in  bringing  all  into 
harmony  with  the  sovereign  One.  The  concrete  element  in 
the  character  of  the  Emperors  is  therefore  of  itself  of  no 
interest,  because  the  concrete  is  not  of  essential  importance. 
Thus  there  were  Emperors  of  noble  character  and  noble 
nature,  and  who  highly  distinguished  themselves  by  mental 
and  moral  culture.  Titus,  Trajan,  the  Antonines,  are 
known  as  such  characters,  rigorously  strict  in  self-govern- 
ment ;  yet  even  these  produced  no  change  in  the  state.  The 
proposition  was  never  made  during  their  time,  to  give  the 
Roman  Empire  an  organization  of  free  social  relationship : 
they  were  only  a  kind  of  happy  chance,  which  passes  over 
without  a  trace,  and  leaves  the  condition  of  things  as  it 
was.  For  these  persons  find  themselves  here  in  a  position 
in  which  they  cannot  be  said  to  act,  since  no  object 
confronts  them  in  opposition  ;  they  have  only  to  will — well 
or  ill — and  it  is  so.  The  praiseworthy  emperors  Vespasian 
and  Titus  were  succeeded  by  that  coarsest  and  most  loath- 
some tyrant,  Domitian :  yet  the  Boman  historian  tells  ua 
that  the  Boman  world  enjoyed  tranquillizing  repose  under 
him.  Those  single  points  of  light,  therefore,  effected  no 
change ;  the  whole  empire  was  subject  to  the  pressure  of 
taxation  and  plunder ;  Italy  was  depopulated ;  the  mosfc 


328  PART    III.    THE    EOMAl,1    WOULD. 

fertile  lands  remained  untilled  :  and  this  state  of  things  lay 
as  a  fate  on  the  Roman  world. 

The  second  point  which  we  have  particularly  to  remark, 
is  the  position  taken  by  individuals  as  persons.  Individuals 
were  perfectly  equal  (slavery  made  only  a  trifling  distinc- 
tion), and  without  any  political  rights.  As  early  as  the 
termination  of  the  Social  "War,  the  inhabitants  of  the  whole 
of  Italy  were  put  on  an  equal  footing  with  Roman  citizens  ; 
and  under  Caracalla  all  distinction  between  the  subjects  of 
the  entire  Roman  empire  was  abolished.  Private  Right  de- 
veloped and  perfected  this  equality.  The  right  of  property 
had  been  previously  limited  by  distinctions  of  various  kinds, 
which  were  now  abrogated.  We  observed  the  Romans  pro- 
ceeding from  the  principle  of  abstract  Subjectivity,  which 
now  realizes  itself  as  Personality  in  the  recognition  of  Private 
Right.  Private  Right,  viz.,  is  this,  that  the  social  unit  as 
such  enjoys  consideration  in  the  state,  in  the  reality  which 
he  gives  to  himself — viz.,  in  property.  The  living  political 
body — that  Roman  feeling  which  animated  it  as  its  soul  — 
is  now  brought  back  to  the  isolation  of  a  lifeless  Private 
Right.  As,  when  the  physical  body  suffers  dissolution,  each 
point  gains  a  life  of  its  own,  but  which  is  only  the  miserable 
life  of  worms ;  so  the  political  organism  is  here  dissolved  into 
atoms — viz.,  private  persons.  Such  a  condition  is  Roman 
life  at  this  epoch  :  on  the  one  side,  Fate  and  the  abstract 
universality  of  sovereignty ;  on  the  other,  the  individual 
abstraction,  "  Person,"  \vhich  involves  the  recognition  ot 
the  independent  dignity  of  the  social  unit — not  on  the 
ground  of  the  display  of  the  life  which  he  possesses — in  his 
complete  individuality — but  as  the  abstract  individuum. 

It  is  the  pride  of  the  social  units  to  enjoy  absolute  im- 
portance as  private  persons ;  for  the  Ego  is  thus  enabled  to 
assert  unbounded  claims  ;  but  the  substantial  interest  thus 
comprehended — the  ineum — is  only  of  a  superficial  kind,  and 
the  development  of  private  right,  which  this  high  principle 
introduced,  involved  the  decay  of  political  life.  —  The 
Emperor  domineered  only,  and  could  not  be  said  to  rule;  for 
the  equitable  and  moral  medium  between  the  sovereign  and 
the  subjects  was  wanting — the  bond  of  a  constitution  and 
organization  of  the  stnto,  in  which  a  gradation  of  circles  of 
social  life,  enjoying  independent  recognition,  exists  in  coin- 


SECT.    lii.    HOME    UNDER    THE    EMPEKOKS.  829 

munities  and  provinces,  which,  devoting  their  energies 
to  the  general  interest,  exert  an  influence  on  the  general 
government.  There  are  indeed  Curiae  in  the  towns,  but 
they  are  either  destitute  of  weight,  or  used  only  as  means 
for  oppressing  individuals,  and  for  systematic  plunder.  That, 
therefore,  which  was  abidingly  present  to  the  minds  of  men 
was  not  their  country,  or  such  a  moral  unity  as  that  supplies : 
the  whole  state  of  things  urged  them  to  yield  themselves  to 
fate,  and  to  strive  for  a  perfect  indifference  to  life,— an  in- 
difference which  they  sought  either  in  freedom  of  thought 
or  in  directly  sensuous  enjoyment.  Thus  man  was  either  at 
war  with  existence,  or  entirely  given  up  to  mere  sen- 
suous existence.  He  either  recognized  his  destiny  in  the 
task  of  acquiring  the  means  of  enjoyment  through  the 
favour  of  the  Emperor,  or  through  violence,  testamentary 
frauds,  and  cunning ;  or  he  sought  repose  in  philosophy, 
which  alone  was  still  able  to  supply  something  firm  and 
independent :  for  the  systems  of  that  time — Stoicism,  Epi- 
cureanism, and  Scepticism — although  within  their  com- 
mon sphere  opposed  to  each  other,  had  the  same  general 
purport,  viz.,  rendering  the  soul  absolutely  indifferent  to 
everything  which  the  real  world  had  to  offer.  These  phi- 
losophies were  therefore  widely  extended  among  the  culti- 
vated: they  produced  in  man  a  self-reliant  immobility  as 
the  result  of  Thought,  i.e.  of  the  activity  which  produces  the 
Universal.  But  the  inward  reconciliation  by  means  of 
philosophy  was  itself  only  an  abstract  one — in  the  pure 
principle  of  personality  ;  for  Thought,  which,  as  perfectly 
refined,  made  itself  its  own  object,  and  thus  harmonized  itself, 
was  entirely  destitute  of  a  real  object,  and  the  immobility 
of  Scepticism  made  aimlessness  itself  the  object  of  the  Will. 
This  philosophy  knew  nothing  but  the  negativity  of  all  that 
assumed  to  be  real,  and  was  the  counsel  of  despair  to  a 
world  which  no  longer  possessed  anything  stable.  It  could 
not  satisfy  the  living  Spirit,  which  longed  after  a  higher 
recouciliatioD. 


330  PART    III.    THE    KOMJLN    WORLD. 

CHAPTEE  II. 

CHRISTIANITY. 

IT  has  been  remarked  that  Caesar  inaugurated  the  Modern 
World  on  the  side  of  reality,  while  its  spiritual  and  inward 
existence  wras  unfolded  under  Augustus.  At  the  beginning  of 
that  empire,  whose  principle  we  have  recognized  as  finiteness 
and  particular  subjectivity  exaggerated  to  infinitude,  the 
salvation  of  the  World  had  its  birth  in  the  same  principle  of 
subjectivity — viz.,  as  a  particular  person,  in  abstract  subjec- 
tivity, but  in  such  a  way  that  conversely,  finiteness  is  only 
the  form  of  his  appearance,  while  infinity  and  absolutely 
independent  existence  constitute  the  essence  and  substantial 
being  which  it  embodies.  The  Roman  World,  as  it  has  been 
described — in  its  desperate  condition  and  the  pain  of  aban- 
donment by  God — came  to  an  open  rupture  with  reality,  and 
made  prominent  the  general  desire  for  a  satisfaction  such  as 
can  only  be  attained  in  "the  inner  man,"  the  Soul, — thus 
preparing  the  ground  for  a  higher  Spiritual  World.  Rome 
was  the  Fate  that  crushed  down  the  gods  and  all  genial  life 
in  its  hard  service,  while  it  was  the  power  that  purified  the 
human  heart  from  all  speciality.  Its  entire  condition  is 
therefore  analogous  to  a  place  of  birth,  and  its  pain  is  like  the 
travail-throes  of  another  and  higher  Spirit,  which  manifested 
itself  in  connection  with  the  Christian  Religion.  This  higher 
Spirit  involves  the  reconciliation  and  emancipation  of  Spirit ; 
while  man  obtains  the  consciousness  of  Spirit  in  its  univer- 
sality and  infinity.  The  Absolute  Object,  Truth,  is  Spirit ; 
and  as  man  himself  is  Spirit,  he  is  present  [is  mirrored]  to 
himself  in  that  object,  and  thus  in  his  Absolute  Object  has 
found  Essential  Being  and  his  own  essential  being.*  But  in 
order  that  the  objectivity  of  Essential  Being  may  be  done 
away  with,  and  Spirit  be  no  longer  alien  to  itself — may  be 
with  itself,  [self-harmonized] — the  Naturalness  of  Spirit — 

*  The  harsh  requirements  of  an  ungenial  tyranny  call  forth  man's 
highest  powers  of  self-sacrifice ;  he  learns  his  moral  capacity ;  dis- 
satisfaction with  anything-  short  of  perfection  ensues, — consciousness  ol 
sin  ;  and  this  sentiment  in  its  greatest  intensity,  produces  union  with  God. 
— Ta. 


BLCT.  III.    ROME  TNBEB  THE  EMPEUOUS      CHRISTIANITY.  331 

that  in  virtue  of  which  man  is  a  special,  empirical  existence 
— must  be  removed  ;  so  that  the  alien  element  may  be  de- 
stroyed, and  the  reconciliation  of  Spirit  be  accomplished. 

God  is  thus  recognized  as  Spirit,  only  when  known  as  the 
Triune.    This  new  principle  is  the  axis  on  which  the  History 
of  the  World  turns.     This  is  the  goal  and  the  starting  point 
of  History.     "  When  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come,  God 
sent  his  Son,"  is  the  statement  of  the  Bible.     This  means 
nothing  else  than  that   self-consciousness  had  reached  the 
phases  of  development  [Momente],  whose  resultant  consti- 
tutes the  Idea  of  Spirit,  and  had  come  to  feel  the  necessity 
of  comprehending  those  phases  absolutely.     This  must  now 
be  more  fully  explained.     We  said  of  the  Greeks,  that  the 
law  for  their  Spirit  was  :  "  Man,  know  thyself."    The  Greek 
Spirit  was  a  consciousness  of  Spirit,  but  under  a  limited 
form,  having  the  element  of  Nature  as  an  essential  ingre- 
dient.    Spirit  may  have  had  the  upper  hand,  but  the  unity 
of  the  superior  and  the  subordinate  was  itself  still  Natural. 
Spirit  appeared  as  specialized  in  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the 
genius  of  the  several  Greek  nationalities  and  of  their  di- 
vinities, and  was  represented  by  Art,  in  whose  sphere  the 
Sensuous  is  elevated  only  to  the  middle  ground  of  beautiful 
form  and  shape,  but  not  to  pure  Thought.     The  element  of 
Subjectivity  that  was  wanting  to  the    Greeks,  we   found 
among  the  Romans :  but  as  it  was  merely  formal  and  in 
itself  indefinite,  it  took  its  material  from  passion  and  caprice ; 
— even  the  most  shameful  degradations  could  be  here  con- 
nected with  a  divine  dread  (vide  the  declaration  of  Hispala 
respecting  the  Bacchanalia,  Livy  xxxix.  13).     This  element 
of  subjectivity  is  afterwards  further  realized  as  Personality 
of  Individuals — a  realization  which  is  exactly  adequate   to 
the  principle,  and  is  equally  abstract  and  formal.     As  such 
an  Ego  [such  a  personality],  I  am  infinite  to  myself,  and  my 
phenomenal  existence  consists  in  the  property  recognized  as 
mine,  and  the  recognition  of  my  personality.     This  inner 
existence  goes  no  further ;  all  the  applications  of  the  prin- 
ciple merge  in  this.     Individuals   are  thereby   posited  aa 
atoms  ;  but  they  are  at  the  same  time  subject  to  the  severe 
rule  of  the  One,  which  as  monas  monadum  is  a  power  over 
private  persons   [the  connection  between  the  ruler  and  the 
ruled  is  not  mediated  by  the  claim  of  Divine  or  of  Con* 


3:>2  PABT    III.    THE    HUMAN    WOELD. 

stitutional  Eight,  or  any  general  principle,  but  is  direct 
and  individual,  the  Emperor  being  the  immediate  lord  of 
each  subject  in  the  Empire].  That  Private  Right  is  there- 
fore, ipso  facto,  a  nullity,  an  ignoring  of  the  personality  ; 
and  the  supposed  condition  of  Right  turns  out  to  be 
an  absolute  destitution  of  it.  This  contradiction  is  the 
misery  of  the  Roman  World.  Each  person  is,  according  to 
the  principle  of  his  personality,  entitled  only  to  possession, 
while  the  Person  of  Persons  lays  claim  to  the  possession  of 
all  these  individuals,  so  that  the  right  assumed  by  the  social 
unit  is  at  once  abrogated  and  robbed  of  validity.  But  the 
misery  of  this  contradiction  is  the  Discipline  of  the  World. 
"Zucht"  (discipline)  is  derived  from  "  Ziehen  "  (to  draw).* 
This  "  drawing  "  must  be  towards  something ;  there  must 
be  some  fixed  unity  in  the  background  in  whose  direction 
that  drawing  takes  place,  and  for  which  the  subject  of  it  ia 
being  trained,  in  order  that  the  standard  of  attainment  may 
be  reached.  A  renunciation,  a  disaccustoming,  is  the  means 
of  leading  to  an  absolute  basis  of  existence.  That  contra- 
diction which  afflicts  the  Roman  World  is  the  very  state  of 
things  which  constitutes  such  a  discipline — the  discipline  of 
that  culture  which  compels  personality  to  display  its  nothing- 
ness. But  it  is  reserved  for  us  of  a  later  period  to  regard 
this  as  a  training;  to  those  who  are  thus  trained  [traines, 
dragged],  it  seems  a  blind  destiny,  to  which  they  submit  in 
the  stupor  of  suffering.  The  higher  condition,  in  which  the 
soul  itself  feels  pain  and  longing  — in  which  man  is  not  only 
"  drawn,"  but  feels  that  the  drawing  is  into  himself  [into  his 
own  inmost  nature]— is  still  absent.  What  has  been  reflection 
on  our  part  must  arise  in  the  mind  of  the  subject  of  this  dis- 
cipline in  the  form  of  a  consciousness  that  in  himself  he  is 
miserable  and  null.  Outward  suffering  must,  as  already  said, 
be  merged  in  a  sorrow  of  the  inner  man.  He  must  feel  himself 
as  the  negation  of  himself;  he  must  see  that  his  misery  is 
the  misery  of  his  nature — that  he  is  in  himself  a  divided  and 
discordant  being.  This  state  of  mind,  this  self-chastening, 
this  pain  occasioned  by  our  individual  nothingness — the 
wretchedness  of  our  [isolated]  self,  and  the  longing  to  tran- 
Bcend  this  condition  of  soul— must  be  looked  for  elsewhere 

*  So  the  English  "  train  "  from  French  "  trainer  "-=  to  draw  >r  drag. — Tfc 


SEOT.  III.  HOME  UNDJKB  THE   EMPERORS CHRISTIANITY.  333 

than  in  the  properly  Roman  "World.  It  is  this  which  gives 
to  the  Jewish  People  their  World-Historical  importance  and 
weight ;  for  from  this  state  of  mind  arose  th.at  higher  phase 
in  which  Spirit  came  to  absolute  self-consciousness — passing 
from  that  alien  form  of  being  which  is  its  discord  and  pain, 
and  mirroring  itself  in  its  own  essence.  The  state  of  feeling 
in  question  we  find  expressed  most  purely  and  beautifully  in 
the  Psalms  of  David,  and  in  the  Prophets ;  the  chief  burden 
of  whose  utterances  is  the  thirst  of  the  soul  after  God,  its 
profound  sorrow  for  its  transgressions,  and  the  desire  for 
righteousness  and  holiness.  Of  this  Spirit  we  have  the 
mythical  representation  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  Jewish 
canonical  books,  in  the  account  of  the  Fall.  Man,  created 
in  the  image  of  God,  lost,  it  is  said,  his  state  of  absolute  con- 
tentment, by  eating  of  the  Tree  of  the  Knowledge  of  Good 
and  Evil.  Sin  consists  here  only  in  Knowledge :  this  is  the 
sinful  element,  and  by  it  man  is  stated  to  have  trifled  awav 
his  Natural  happiness.  This  is  a  deep  truth,  that  evil  lies  in 
consciousness :  for  the  brutes  are  neither  evil  nor  good  ;  the 
merely  Natural  Man  quite  as  little.*  Consciousness  occa- 
sions the  separation  of  the  Ego,  in  its  boundless  freedom  as 
arbitrary  choice,  from  the  pure  essence  of  the  Will — i.e., 
from  the  Good.  Knowledge,  as  the  disannulling  of  the  unity 
of  mere  Nature,  is  the  "  Fall,"  which  is  no  casual  concep- 
tion, but  the  eternal  history  of  Spirit.  For  the  state  of 
innocence,  the  paradisaical  condition,  is  that  of  the  brute. 
Paradise  is  a  park,  where  only  brutes,  not  men,  can  remain. 
For  the  brute  is  one  with  God  only  implicitly  [not  con- 
sciously]. Only  Man's  Spirit  (that  is)  has  a  self-cognizant 
existence.  This  existence  for  self,  this  consciousness,  is  at 
the  same  time  separation  from  the  Universal  and  Divine 
Spirit.  If  I  hold  to  my  abstract  Freedom,  in  contraposition 
to  the  Good,  I  adopt  the  stand-point  of  Evil.  The  Fall  is 
therefore  the  eternal  Mythua  of  Man — in  fact,  the  very 
transition  by  which  he  becomes  man.  Persistence  in  this 
stand-point  is,  however,  Evil,  and  the  feeling  of  pain  at  such 
a  condition,  and  of  longing  to  transcend  it,  we  find  in 
David,  when  he  says :  "  Lord,  create  lor  me  a  pure  heart,  a 
new  steadfast  Spirit,"  This  feeling  we  observe  even  in  the 

*  "  1  was  uliv«  without  the  law  once,  &c.'f  Rom.  vii.  9. — Ta. 


334  PA-RT    HI-    THE    ROMAN    WORLD. 

account  of  the  Fall ;  though  an  announcement  of  Reconcilia- 
tion  is  not  made  there,  but  rather  one  of  continuance  in 
misery.  Yet  we  have  in  this  narrative  the  prediction  of  re- 
conciliation in  the  sentence,  "  The  serpent's  head  shall  be 
bruised;"  but  still  more  profoundly  expressed  where  it  is 
stated  that  when  God  saw  that  Adam  had  eaten  of  that  tree, 
he  said,  "  Behold  Adam  is  become  as  one  of  us,  knowing 
Good  and  Evil."  God  confirms  the  words  of  the  Serpent. 
Implicitly  and  explicitly,  then,  we  have  the  truth,  that  man 
through  Spirit — through  cognition  of  the  Universal  and  the 
Particular — comprehends  God  Himself.  But  it  is  only  God 
that  declares  tins, — not  man :  the  latter  remains,  on  the 
contrary,  in  a  state  of  internal  discord.  The  joy  of  recon- 
ciliation is  still  distant  from  humanity ;  the  absolute  and 
final  repose  of  his  whole  being  is  not  yet  discovered  to  man. 
It  exists,  in  the  first  instance,  only  for  God.  As  far  as  the 
present  is  concerned,  the  feeling  of  pain  at  his  condition  is 
regarded  as  a  final  award.  The  satisfaction  which  man 
enjoys  at  first,  consists  in  the  finite  and  temporal  blessings 
conferred  on  the  Chosen  Family  and  the  possession  of  the 
Land  of  Canaan.  His  repose  is  not  found  in  God.  Sacri- 
fices are,  it  is  true,  offered  to  Him  in  the  Temple,  and  atone- 
ment made  by  outward  offerings  and  inward  penitence.  But 
that  mundane  satisfaction  in  the  Chosen  Family,  and  its 
possession  of  Canaan,  was  taken  from  the  Jewish  people  in 
the  chastisement  inflicted  by  the  Roman  Empire.  The 
Syrian  kings  did  indeed  oppress  it,  but  it  was  left  for  the 
Romans  to  annul  its  individuality.  The  Temple  of  Zion  is 
destroyed  ;  the  God-serving  nation  is  scattered  to  the  winds. 
Here  every  source  of  satisfaction  is  taken  away,  and  the 
nation  is  driven  back  to  the  stand-point  of  that  primeval 
mythus — the  stand-point  of  that  painful  feeling  which  hu- 
manity experiences  when  thrown  upon  itself.  Opposed  to 
the  universal  Fatum  of  the  Roman  World,  we  have  here  the 
consciousness  of  Evil  and  the  direction  of  the  mind  God- 
wards.  All  that  remains  to  be  done,  is  that  this  funda- 
mental idea  should  be  expanded  to  an  objective  universal 
sense,  and  be  taken  as  the  concrete  existence  of  man— as  the 
completion  of  his  nature.  Formerly  the  Land  of  Canaan 
and  themselves  as  the  people  of  God  had  been  regarded  bv 
the  Jews  as  that  concrete  and  complete  existence.  But  this 


BtCT.  III.  ROME  UNDER  THE  EMPERORS — CHRISTIANITY.  335 

basis  of  satisfaction  is  now  lost,  and  thence  arises  the  sense 
of  misery  and  failure  of  hope  in  God,  with  whom  that  happy 
reality  had  been  essentially  connected.     Here,  then,  misery 
is  not  the  stupid  immersion  in  a  blind  Pate,  but  a  boundless 
energy  of  longing.     Stoicism  taught  only  that  the  Negative 
is  not — that  pain  must  not  be  recognized  as  a  veritable  ex- 
istence ;  but  Jewish  feeling  persists  in  acknowledging  Reality 
and  desires  harmony  and  reconciliation  within  its  sphere ; 
for  that  feeling  is  based  on  the  Oriental  Unity  of  Nature — 
i.e.,  the  unity  of  Reality,  of  Subjectivity,  with  the  substance 
of  the  One  Essential  Being.     Through  the  loss  of  mere  out- 
ward reality  Spirit  is  driven  back  within  itself ;  the  side  of 
reality  is  thus  refined  to  Universality,  through  the  reference 
of  it  to  the   One.     The  Oriental  antithesis  of  Light  and 
Darkness  is  transferred  to  Spirit,  and  the  Darkness  becomes 
Sin.     For  the  abnegation  of  reality  there  is  no  compensation 
but  Subjectivity  itself— the  Human  Will   as   intrinsically 
universal ;   and  thereby  alone   does  reconciliation   become 
possible.     Sin  is  the  discerning  of  Good  and  Evil  as  separa- 
tion; but  this  discerning  likewise  heals  the  ancient  hurt, 
and  is  the  fountain  of  infinite  reconciliation.   The  discerning 
in  question  brings  with  it  the  destruction  of  that  which  is 
external  and  alien  in  consciousness,  and  is  consequently  the 
return  of  Subjectivity  into  itself.     This,  then,  adopted  into 
the  actual  self-consciousness  of  the  World  is  the  Reconcilia- 
tion [atonement]  of  the  World.     From  that  unrest  of  infi- 
nite sorrow — in  which  the  two  sides  of  the  antithesis  stand 
related  to  each  other — is  developed  the  unity  of  God  with 
Reality  (which  latter  had  been  posited  as  negative)  i.e.,  with 
Subjectivity   which   had  been   separated   from  Him.     The 
infinite  loss  is    counterbalanced  only  by  its  infinity,    and 
thereby  becomes  infinite  gain.     The  recognition  of  the  iden- 
tity of  the  Subject  and  God  was  introduced  into  the  World 
when  the  fulness  of  Time  was  come  :  the  consciousness  of 
this  identity  is  the  recognition  of  God  in  his  true  essence. 
The  material  of  Truth  is  Spirit  itself — inherent  vital  move- 
ment.    The  nature  of  God  as  pure  Spirit,  is  manifested  to 
man  in  the  Christian  Religion. 

But  what  is  Spirit  ?  It  is  the  one  immutably  homo- 
geneous Infinite — pure  Identity  — which  in  its  second  phase 
separates  itself  from  itself  and  makes  this  second  aspect  its  own 


33G  fART  in.  THE  BOMJLN  WUKLD. 


polar  opposite,  viz.  as  existence  for  and  in  self  as  contrasted 
T\  ith  the  Universal.  But  this  separation  is  annulled  by  the 
fact  that  atomistic  Subjectivity,  as  simple  relation  to  itself,  [as 
occupied  with  self  alone,]  is  itself  the  Universal,  the  Identical 
with  self.  If  Spirit  be  denned  as  absolute  reflection  within 
itself  in  virtue  of  its  absolute  duality  -  Love  on  the  one 
hand  as  comprehending  the  Emotional,  [Emptindung] 
Knowledge  on  the  other  hand  as  Spirit  [including  the  penetra- 
tive and  active  faculties,  as  opposed  to  the  receptive] — it  is 
recognized  as  Triune:  the  "  Father ''  and  the  "  Son,"  and  that 
duality  which  essentially  characterizes  it  as  "  Spirit.'1  It  must 
further  be  observed,  that  in  this  truth,  the  relation  of  man  to 
this  truth  is  also  posited.  For  Spirit  makes  itself  its  own 
[polar]  opposite — and  is  the  return  from  this  opposite  into 
itself.  Comprehended  in  pure  ideality,  that  antithetic  form 
of  Spirit  is  the  Son  of  God  ;  reduced  to  limited  and 
particular  conceptions,  it  is  the  World  —  Nature  and 
Finite  Spirit :  Finite  Spirit  itself  therefore  is  posited 
as  a  constituent  element  [Moment]  in  the  Divine  Being. 
Man  himself  therefore  is  comprehended  in  the  Idea  of 
God,  and  this  comprehension  may  be  thus  expressed— 
that  the  unity  of  Man  with  God  is  posited  in  the  Christian 
Religion.  But  this  unity  must  not  be  superficially  con- 
ceived,  as  if  God  were  only  Man,  and  Mz.n,  without  further 
condition,  were  God.  Man,  on  the  contrary,  is  God  only  in  so 
far  as  he  annuls  the  merely  Natural  and  Limited  in  his  Spirit 
and  elevates  himself  to  God.  That  is  to  say,  it  is  obliga- 
tory on  him  who  is  a  partaker  of  the  truth,  and  knows  that 
he  himself  is  a  constituent  [Moment]  of  the  Divine  Idea, 
to  give  up  his  merely  natural  being:  for  the  Natural  is  Ihe 
Uuspiritual.  In  this  Idea  of  God,  then,  is  to  be  found  also 
the  Reconciliation  that  heals  the  pain  and  inward  suffering  of 
man.  For  Suffering  itself  is  henceforth  recognized  as  an 
instrument  necessary  for  producing  the  unity  of  man  with 
God.  This  implicit  unity  exists  in  the  first  place  only  for 
the  thinking  speculative  consciousness;  but  it  must  also 
exist  for  the  sensuous,  representative  consciousness, — it 
must  become  an  object  for  the  "World, — it  must  appear -,  and 
that  in  the  sensuous  form  appropriate  to  Spirit,  which  is  the 
human.  Christ  has  appeared, — a  Man  who  is  God, — God 
who  is  Man ;  and  thereby  peace  and  reconciliation  have 


ted 


SECT.  III.   ROME  UFDER  THE  EMPEKOB8— CHRISTIANITY .  337 

accrued  to  the  World.  Our  thoughts  naturally  reverts  to  the 
Greek  anthropomorphism,  of  which  we  affirmed  that  it  did  not 
go  far  enough.  For  that  natural  elation  of  soul  which  charac- 
terized the  Greeks  did  not  rise  to  the  Subjective  Freedom  of 
the  Ego  itself — to  the  inwardness  that  belongs  to  the  Christian 
.Religion — to  the  recognition  of  Spirit  as  a  definite  positive 
being. — The  appearance  of  the  Chris  ian  God  involves  fur- 
ther its  being  unique  in  its  kind  ;  it  can  occur  only  once, 
for  God  is  realized  as  Subject,  and  as  manifested  Subjectivity 
is  exclusively  One  Individual.  The  Lamas  are  ever  and 
anon  chosen  anew ;  because  God  is  known  in  the  East  as 
Substance,  whose  infinity  of  form  is  recognized  merely  in  an 
unlimited  multeity  of  outward  and  particular  manifestations. 
But  subjectivity  as  infinite  relation  to  self,  has  its  form  in 
itself,  and  as  manifested,  must  be  a  unity  excluding  all  others. 
-  Moreover  the  sensuous  existence  in  which  Spirit  is  em- 
bodied is  only  a  transitional  phase.  Christ  dies ;  only  as 
dead,  is  he  exalted  to  Heaven  and  sits  at  the  right  hand  of 
God  ;  only  thus  is  he  Spirit.  He  himself  says  :  "  When  I 
am  no  longer  with  you,  the  Spirit  will  guide  you  into  all 
truth."  Not  till  the  Feast  of  Pentecost  were  the  Apostles 
filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost.  To  the  Apostles,  Christ  as 
living,  was  not  that  which  he  was  to  them  subsequently  as 
the  Spirit  of  the  Church,  in  which  he  became  to  them  for  the 
first  time  an  object  for  their  truly  spiritual  consciousness. 
On  the  same  principle,  we  do  not  adopt  the  right  point  of 
view  in  thinking  of  Christ  only  as  an  historical  bygone  per- 
sonality. So  regarded,  the  question  is  asked,  What  are  we 
to  make  of  his  birth,  his  Father  and  Mother,  his  early 
domestic  relations,  his  miracles,  &c.? — i.  e.  What  is  he  unspi- 
ritually  regarded  ?  Considered  only  in  respect  of  his  talents, 
character  and  morality — as  a  Teacher  and  so  forth — we  place 
him  in  the  same  category  with  Socrates  and  others,  though 
his  morality  may  be  ranked  higher.  But  excellence  of 
character,  morality,  &c. — all  this  is  not  the  ne  plus  ultra  in 
the  requirements  of  Spirit — does  not  enable  man  to  gain  the 
speculative  idea  of  Spirit  for  his  conceptive  faculty.  If 
Christ  is  to  be  looked  upon  only  as  an  excellent,  even  im- 
peccable individual,  and  nothing  more,  the  conception  of  the 
Speculative  Idea,  of  Absolute  Truth  is  ignored.  But  this  is 
the  desideratum,  the  point  from  which  we  have  to  start. 


338  PAHT  111.  THE  ROMAN  WORLD. 

Make  of  Christ  what  you  will,  exegetically,  critically,  histori  • 
cally, — demonstrate  as  you  please,  how  the  doctrines  of  tho 
Church  were  established  by  Councils,  attained  currency  as 
the  result  of  this  or  that  episcopal  interest  or  passion,  or 
originated  in  this  or  that  quarter ; — let  all  such  circumstances 
have  been  what  they  might, — the  only  concerning  question 
is:  What  is  the  Idea  or  the  Truth  in  and  for  itself? 

Further,  the  real  attestation  of  the  Divinity  of  Christ  is  the 
witness  of  one's  own  Spirit, — not  Miracles ;  for  only  Spirit 
recognizes  Spirit.  The  miracles  may  lead  the  way  to  such 
recognition.  A  miracle  implies  that  the  natural  course  of 
things  is  interrupted  :  but  it  is  very  much  a  question  of 
relation  what  we  call  the  "  natural  course;"  and  the 
phenomena  of  the  magnet  might  under  cover  of  this  defi- 
nition, be  reckoned  miraculous.  Nor  does  the  miracle  of  the 
.Divine  Mission  of  Christ  prove  anything ;  for  Socrates  like- 
wise introduced  a  new  self- consciousness  on  the  part  of 
Spirit,  diverse  from  the  traditional  tenor  of  men's  concep- 
tions. The  main  question  is  not  his  L'ivine  Mission  but 
the  revelation  made  in  Christ  and  the  purport  of  his  mission. 
Christ  himself  blames  the  Pharisees  for  desiring  miracles 
of  him,  and  speaks  of  false  prophets  who  will  perform 
miracles. 

We  have  next  to  consider  how  the  Christian  view  resulted 
in  the  formation  of  the  Church.  To  pursue  the  rationale  of 
*ts  development  from  the  Idea  of  Christianity  would  lead 
us  too  far,  and  we  have  here  to  indicate  only  the  general 
phases  which  the  process  assumed.  The  first  phase  is  the 
founding  of  the  Christian  religion,  in  which  its  principle  is 
expressed  with  unrestrained  energy,  but  in  the  first  instance 
abstractly.  This  we  find  in  the  Gospels,  where  the  infinity 
of  Spirit, — its  elevation  into  the  spiritual  world  [as  the  exclu- 
sively true  and  authorized  existence] — is  the  main  theme. 
With  transcendant  boldness  does  Christ  stand  forth  among 
the  Jewish  people.  *'  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they 
shall  see  God,"  he  proclaims  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
— a  dictum  of  the  noblest  simplicity,  and  pregnant  with  an 
elastic  energy  of  rebound  against  all  the  adventitious 
appliances  with  which  the  human  soul  can  bt  burdened. 
The  pure  heart  is  the  domain  in  which  God  is  present  to 
man :  he  who  is  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  this  apophthegm 


SECT.  III.  ROME  UNDEB  THE  EMPERORS — CHRISTIANITY.  339 

is  armed  against  all  alien  bonds  and  superstitions.  The  other 
utterances  are  of  the  same  tenor :  "  Blessed  are  the  peace- 
makers :  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God ;"  and, 
"  Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  for  righteousness* 
sake  :  for  their's  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;"  and,  "  Be  ye 
perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect." 
Christ  enforces  here  a  completely  unmistakeable  requirement. 
The  infinite  exaltation  of  Spirit  to  absolute  purity  is 
placed  at  the  beginning  as  the  foundation  of  all.  The  form  of 
the  instrumentality  by  which  that  result  is  to  be  accomplished 
is  not  yet  given,  but  the  result  itself  is  the  subject  of  an 
absolute  command.  As  regards  the  relation  of  this  stand- 
point of  Spirit  to  secular  existence,  we  find  that  spiritual 
purity  presented  as  the  substantial  basis.  "  Seek  ye  first 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you;"  and,  "  The  sufferings  of  this  pre- 
sent time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  that  glory."* 
Here  Christ  says  that  outward  sufferings,  as  such,  are  not  to 
be  feared  or  fled  from,  for  they  are  nothing  as  compared  with 
that  glory.  Further  on,  this  doctrine,  as  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  its  appearing  in  an  abstract  form,  assumes  a  polemi- 
cal direction.  "  If  thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out  and 
cast  it  from  thee :  if  thy  right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off  and 
cast  it  from  thee.  It  is  better  that  one  of  thy  members 
should  perish,  and  not  that  thy  whole  body  should  be  cast 
into  hell."  Whatever  might  disturb  the  purity  of  the  soul, 
should  be  destroyed.  So  in  reference  to  property  and 
worldly  gain,  it  is  said :  "  Care  not  for  your  life,  what  ye  shall 
eat  and  drink,  nor  for  your  body,  what  ye  shall  put  on.  Is  not 
the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  more  than  raiment? 
Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air :  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do 
they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns  ;  yet  your  heavenly  Father 
feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much  better  than  they  ?" 
Labour  for  subsistence  is  thus  reprobated  :  "  "Wilt  thou  be 
perfect,  go  and  sell  what  thou  hast,  and  give  it  to  the  poor,  so 
shalt  thou  have  a  treasure  in  heaven,  and  come,  follow  me." 
"Were  this  precept  directly  complied  with,  a  social  revolu- 
tion must  take  place  ;  the  poor  would  become  the  rich.  Of 

*  The  words  ;n  the  text  occur  in  Rom.  viii.   18.  but  the  import  of  Matt, 
r.  12.  j*  uear]y  me  same.  TR. 


34.0  PAET    III.       THE    ROMAN    WORLD. 

such  supreme  moment,  it  is  implied,  is  the  doctrine  of 
Chris-t,  that  all  duties  and  moral  bonds  are  unimportant  as 
compared  with  it.  To  a  youth  who  wishes  to  delay  the  duties 
of  discipleship  till  he  has  buried  his  father,  Christ  says' : 
"  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead — follow  thou  me."  "  He  that 
loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of 
me."  He  said:  "Who  is  my  mother?  and  who  are  my 
brethren  ?  and  stretched  his  hand  out  over  his  disciples  and 
said,  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren  !  For  he  that 
doeth  the  will  of  my  Father  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my 
brother,  and  sister  and  mother."  Yes,  it  is  even  said  :  "  Think 
not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  the  Earth.  I  am  not 
come  to  send  peace  but  the  sword.  For  I  am  come  to  set  a 
man  against  his  father,  and  the  daughter  against  her  mother, 
and  the  mother-in-law  against  her  daughter-in-law"  Here 
then  is  an  abstraction  from  all  that  belongs  to  reality,  even 
from  moral  ties.  We  may  say  that  nowhere  are  to  be  found 
such  revolutionary  utterances  as  in  the  Gospels  ;  for  every- 
thing that  had  been  respected,  is  treated  as  a  matter  of  in- 
dili'erence — as  worthy  of  no  regard. 

The  next  point  is  the  development  of  this  principle ; 
and  the  whole  sequel  of  History  is  the  history  of  ita 
development.  Its  first  realization  is  the  formation  by  the 
friends  of  Christ,  of  a  Society — a  Church.  It  has  been  al- 
ready remarked  that  only  after  the  death  of  Christ  could  the 
Spirit  corne  upon  his  friends ;  that  only  then  were  they  able  to 
conceive  the  true  idea  of  God,  viz.,  that  in  Christ  man  is 
redeemed  and  reconciled :  for  in  him  the  idea  of  eternal  truth 
is  recognized,  the  essence  of  man  acknowledged  to  be  Spirit, 
and  the  fact  proclaimed  that  only  by  stripping  himself  of  his 
finiteuess  and  surrendering  himself  to  pure  self-consciousness, 
does  he  attain  the  truth.  Christ — man  as  man— in  whom 
the  unity  of  God  and  man  has  appeared,  has  in  his  death,  and 
his  history  generally,  himself  presented  the  eternal  history  of 
Spirit, — a  history  which  every  man  has  to  accomplish  in  him- 
self, in  order  to  exist  as  Spirit,  or  to  become  a  child  of  God, 
a  citizen  of  his  kingdom.  The  followers  of  Christ,  who 
combine  on  this  principle  and  live  in  the  spiritual  life  as  their 
aim,  form  the  Church,  which  is  the  Kingdom  of  God.  "  W  here 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name*'  (i.e.  "in 
the  character  of  partakers  in  my  being ")  says  Chrifit, 


SECT.  III.  EOMF  UNDEE  THE  EMPERORS UlIllIS TlAJN  11  F.  311 

"there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."  The  Church  is  a  real 
present  life  in  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 

It  is  important  that  the  Christian  religion  be  not  limited 
to  the  teachings  of  Christ  himself:  it  is  in  the  Apostles 
that  the  completed  and  developed  truth  is  first  exhibited. 
This  complex  of  thought  unfolded  itself  in  the  Christian  com- 
munity. That  community,  in  its  first  experiences,  found 
itself  sustaining  a  double  relation — first,  a  relation  to  the 
Boman  World,  and  secondly,  to  the  truth  whose  develop- 
ment was  its  aim.  We  will  pursue  these  different  relations 
separately. 

The  Christian  community  found  itself  in  the  Boman  world, 
and  in  this  world  the  extension  of  the  Christian  religion 
was  to  take  place.  That  community  must  therefore  keep 
itself  removed  from  all  activity  in  the  State— constitute  it- 
self a  separate  company,  and  not  react  against  the  decrees, 
views,  and  transactions  of  the  state.  But  as  it  was  secluded 
from  the  state,  arid  consequently  did  not  hold  the  Emperor 
for  its  absolute  sovereign,  it  was  the  object  of  persecution 
and  hate.  Then  was  manifested  that  infinite  inward  liberty 
which  it  enjoyed,  in  the  great  steadfastness  with  which  suf- 
ferings and  sorrows  were  patiently  borne  for  the  sake  of  the 
highest  truth.  It  was  less  the  miracles  of  the  Apostles 
that  gave  to  Christianity  its  outward  extension  and  inward 
strength,  than  the  substance,  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  itself. 
Christ  himself  says :  "  Many  will  say  to  me  at  that  day : 
Lord,  Lord !  have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy  name,  have  we 
not  cast  out  devils  in  thy  name,  have  we  not  in  thy  name 
done  many  wonderful  deeds?  Then  will  I  profess  unto 
them :  I  never  knew  you,  depart  from  me  all  ye  workers  of 
iniquity  " 

As  regards  its  other  relation,  viz.,  that  to  the  Truth,  it 
is  especially  important  to  remark  that  the  Dogma — the 
Theoretical — was  already  matured  within  the  Boman  World, 
while  we  find  the  development  of  the  State  from  that  principle, 
a  much  later  growth.  The  Fathers  of  the  Church  and  the 
Councils  constituted  the  dogma ;  but  a  chief  element  in  this 
constitution  was  supplied  by  the  previous  development  of 
philosophy.  Let  us  examine  more  closely  how  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  time  stood  related  to  religion.  It  has  already 
been  remarked  that  the  Roman  inwardness  and  subjectivity, 


342  PAET    III.      THE    KOMAK   WORLD. 

which  presetted  itself  only  abstractly,  as  soulless  per- 
sonality in  the  exclusive  position  assumed  by  the  Ego,  was 
refined  by  the  philosophy  of  Stoicism  and  Scepticism  to  the 
form  of  Universality.  The  ground  of  Thought  was  thereby 
reached,  and  God  was  known  in  Thought  as  the  One  Infinite. 
The  Universal  stands  here  only  as  an  unimportant  predicate — 
not  itself  a  Subject,  but  requiring  a  concrete  particular  appli- 
cation to  make  it  such.  But  the  One  and  Universal,  the 
Illimitable  conceived  by  fancy,  is  essentially  Oriental ;  for 
measureless  conceptions,  carrying  all  limited  existence  beyond 
i-s  proper  bounds,  are  indigenous  to  the  East.  Presented  ia 
the  domain  of  Thought  itself,  the  Oriental  One  is  the  invisible 
and  non-sensuous  God  of  the  Israelitish  people,  but  whom 
they  also  make  an  object  of  conception  as  a  person.  This 
principle  became  World-Historical  with  Christianity. — In  the 
.  Roman  World,  the  union  of  the  East  and  West  had  taken 
place  in  the  first  instance  by  means  of  conquest :  it  took 
place  now  inwardly,  psychologically,  also;  —the  Spirit  of  the 
East  spreading  over  the  West.  The  worship  of  Isis  and 
that  of  Mithra  had  been  extended  through  the  whole  Roman 
World  ;  Spirit,  lost  in  the  outward  and  in  limited  aims, 
yearned  after  ?m  Infinite.  But  the  West  desired  a  deeper, 
purely  inward  Universality— an  Infinite  possessed  at  the 
same  time  of  positive  qualities.  Again,  it  was  in  Egypt — in 
Alexandria,  viz  ,  the  centre  of  communication  between  tho 
East  and  the  West — that  the  problem  of  the  age  was  pro- 
posed for  Thought ;  and  the  solution  now  found  was — Spirit. 
There  the  two  principles  came  into  scientific  contact,  and 
were  scientifically  worked  out.  It  is  especially  remarkable 
to  observe  there,  learned  Jews  such  as  Philo,  connecting  ab- 
stract forms  of  the  concrete,  which  they  derived  from  Plato 
and  Aristotle,  with  their  conception  of  the  Infinite,  and  re- 
cognizing God  according  to  the  more  concrete  idt-a  of  Spirit, 
under  the  definition  of  the  Aoyog.  So,  also,  did  the  pro- 
found thinkers  of  Alexandria  comprehend  the  unity  of  the 
Platonic  and  Aristotelian  Philosophy  ;  and  their  speculative 
thinking  attained  those  abstract  ideas  which  are  likewise 
the  fundamental  purport  of  the  Christian  religion.  The 
application,  by  way  of  postulate,  to  the  pagan  religion,  of 
ideas  recognized  as  true,  was  a  direction  which  philosophy 
had  already  taken  among  tl  9  heathen.  Plato  had  altogether 


SECT.  III.   ROME  TTSDER  THE  EMPEROBS— CHRISTIANITY.  343 

repudiated  the  current  mythology,  and,  with  his  followers, 
was  accused  of  Atheism.     The  Alexandrians,  on  the  con- 
trary, endeavoured  to  demonstrate  a  speculative   truth  in 
the  Greek  conceptions  of  the  gods :  and  the  Emperor  Ju- 
lian the  Apostate  resumed  the  attempt,  asserting  that  the 
pagan  ceremonials  had  a  strict  connection  with  rationality. 
The  heathen  felt,  as  it  were,  obliged  to  give  to  their  divini- 
ties the  semblance  of  something  higher  than  sensuous  con- 
ceptions ;    they   therefore  attempted  to  spiritualize  them. 
Thus  much  is  also  certain,  that  the  Greek  religion  contains 
a  degree  of  Reason  ;  for  the  substance  of  Spirit  is  Reason, 
and  its  product  must  be  something  Rational.     It   makes  u 
difference,  however,  whether  Reason  is  explicitly  developed 
in  Religion,  or  merely  adumbrated  by  it,  as  constituting  its 
hidden   basis.     And   while   the    Greeks  thus  spiritualized 
their  sensuous  divinities,  the  Christians  also,  on  their  side, 
sought  for  a  profounder  sense  in  the  historical  part  of  their 
religion.     Just  as  Philo  found  a  deeper  import  shadowed 
forth  in  the  Mosaic  record,  and  idealized  what  he  considered 
the  bare  shell  of  the  narrative,  so  also  did  the   Christians 
treat  their  records  —  partly  with  a  polemic  view,  but  still 
more  largely  from  a  free  and  spontaneous  interest  in  the 
process.     But  the  instrumentality  of  philosophy  in  introduc- 
ing these  dogmas  into  the  Christian  Religion,  is  no  suffi- 
cient ground  for  asserting  that  they  were  foreign  to  Chris- 
tianity and  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.     It  is  a  matter  of 
perfect   indifference   where   a   thing  originated ;    the  only 
question  is :  "  Is  it  true  in  and  for  itself?"     Many  think 
that  by  pronouncing  a  doctrine  to   be  Neo-Platonic,  they 
have  ipso  facto  banished  it  from  Christianity.      Whether  a 
Christian  doctrine  stands  exactly  thus  or  thus  in  the  Bible, 
— the    point  to  which  the  exegetK^l  scholars  of  modern 
times  devote  all  their  attention — is  not  the  only  question. 
The  Letter  kills,  the  Spirit  makes  alive  :  this  they  say  them- 
selves, yet  pervert  the  sentiment  by  taking  the  Understand' 
ing  for  the  Spirit.      It  was  the  Church  that  recognized  and 
established  the  doctrines  in  question — i.  e.  the  Spirit  of  the 
Church  ;  and  it  is  itself  an  Article  of  Doctrine :  "I  believe 
in  a  Holy   Church;"*  as  Christ  himself  also  said:  "The 
Spirit  will  guide  you  into  all  truth."     In  the  Nicene  Coun- 

*  In  thf  Lutheran  ritual,  "  a  holy  Catholic  Church  "  is  substituted  for 
« the  Uvly  Catholic  Church/'  ID  the  Beli«f— Ta. 


344  PART    III.      THE    EOMAN   TffOKLD. 

cil  (A.D.  325),  was  ultimately  established  a  fixed  confession 
of  faith,  to  which  we  still  adhere  :  this  confession  had  not, 
indeed,  a  speculative/brra,  but  the  profoundly  speculative  is 
most  intimately  inwoven  with  the  manifestation  of  Christ 
himself.  Even  in  John(ev  apxjf  ^v  b  X6>oe  KO.L  6  Xoyog  %v  Trpcc 
TOV  Stov,  Kai  -v£oy  ?/vo  Xoyog)  we  see  the  commencement  of  a 
profounder  comprehension.  The  profoundest  thought  is 
connected  with  the  personality  of  Christ — with  the  historical 
and  external ;  and  it  is  the  very  grandeur  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion that,  with  all  this  profundity,  it  is  easy  of  comprehen- 
sion by  our  consciousness  in  its  outward  aspect,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  it  summons  us  to  penetrate  deeper.  It  is  thus 
adapted  to  every  grade  of  culture,  and  yet  satisfies  the  highest 
requirements. 

Having  spoken  of  the  relation  of  the  Christian  commu- 
nity to  the  Roman  World  on  the  one  side,  and  to  the  truth 
contained  in  its  doctrines  on  the  other  side,  we  come  to  the 
third  point — in  which  both  doctrine  and  the  external  world 
are  concerned — the  Church.  The  Christian  community  is 
the  Kingdom  of  Christ — its  influencing  present  Spirit  being 
Christ :  for  this  kingdom  has  an  actual  existence,  not  a 
merely  future  one.  This  spiritual  actuality  has,  therefore, 
also  a  phenomenal  existence ;  and  that,  not  only  as  contrasted 
with  heathenism,  but  with  secular  existence  generally.  For 
the  Church,  as  presenting  this  outward  existence,  is  not 
merely  a  religion  as  opposed  to  another  religion,  but  is  at 
the  same  time  a  particular  form  of  secular  existence,  occu- 
pying a  place  side  by  side  with  other  secular  existence.  The 
religious  existence  of  the  Church  is  governed  by  Christ;  the 
secular  side  of  its  government  is  left  to  the  five  choice  of 
the  members  themselves.  Into  this  kingdom  of  God  an 
organization  must  be  introduced.  In  the  first  instance,  all 
the  members  know  themselves  filled  with  the  Spirit ;  the 
whole  community  perceives  the  truth  and  gives  expression 
to  it;  yet,  together  with  this  common  participation  of 
spiritual  influence,  arises  the  necessity  of  a  presidency  of 
guidance  and  teaching — a  body  distinct  from  the  community 
at  large.  Those  are  chosen  as  presidents  who  are  distin- 
guished for  talents,  character,  fervour  of  piety,  a  holy  life, 
learning,  and  culture  generally.  The  presidents, — those  who 
have  a  superior  acquaintance  with  that  substantial  Life  oi 
uhiuli  all  are  partakers,  uud  \vho  are  instructors  in  that  Life — 


.  HI.  HOME   UiNDEE,  THE  EMPEBOR8 — CHRISTIANITY.    345 

those  who  establish  what  is  truth,  and  those  who  dispense  its 
enjoyment, — are  distinguished  from  the  community  at  large, 
as  persons  endowed  with  knowledge  and  governing  power  are 
from  the  governed.  To  the  intelligent  presiding  body,  the 
Spirit  comes  in  a  fully  revealed  and  explicit  form ;  in  the  mass 
of  the  community  that  Spirit  is  only  implicit.  While,  there- 
fore, in  the  presiding  body,  the  Spirit  exists  as  self-appre- 
ciating and  self-cognizant,  it  becomes  an  authority  in  spi- 
ritual as  well  as  in  secular  matters  — an  authority  for  the 
truth  and  for  the  relation  of  each  individual  to  the  truth, 
determining  how  he  should  conduct  himself  so  as  to  act  in 
accordance  with  the  Truth.  This  distinction  occasions  the 
rise  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Kingdom  in  the  Kingdom  of  God. 
Such  a  distinction  is  inevitable  ;  but  the  existence  of  an  autho- 
ritative government  for  the  Spiritual,  when  closely  examined, 
Bhews  that  human  subjectivity  in  its  proper  form  has  not  yet 
developed  itself.  In  the  heart,  indeed,  the  evil  will  is  sur- 
rendered, but  the  will,  as  human,  is  not  yet  interpenetrated 
by  the  Deity ;  the  human  will  is  emancipated  only  ab- 
stractly—not in  its  concrete  reality — for  the  whole  sequel  of 
History  is  occupied  with  the  realization  of  this  concrete 
Freedom.  Up  to  this  point,  finite  Freedom  has  been  only 
annulled,  to  make  way  for  infinite  Freedom.  The  latter  has 
not  yet  penetrated  secular  existence  with  its  rays.  Subjective 
Freedom  has  not  yet  attained  validity  as  such  :  Insight  [spe- 
culative conviction]  does  not  yet  rest  on  a  basis  of  its  own, 
but  is  content  to  inhere  in  the  spirit  of  an  extrinsic  authority. 
That  Spiritual  [geistig]  kingdom  has,  therefore,  assumed  the 
shape  of  an  Ecclesiastical  [geistlich]  one,  as  the  relation  of 
the  substantial  being  and  essence  of  Spirit  to  human  Free- 
dom. Besides  the  interior  organization  already  mentioned, 
we  find  the  Christian  community  assuming  also  a  definite 
external  position,  and  becoming  the  possessor  of  property 
of  its  own.  As  property  belonging  to  the  spiritual  world, 
it  is  presumed  to  enjoy  special  protection  ;  and  the  immediate 
inference  from  this  is,  that  the  Church  has  no  dues  to  pay  to 
the  state,  and  that  ecclesiastical  persons  are  not  amenable  to 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  secular  courts.  This  entails  the  govern- 
ment by  the  Church  itself  of  ecclesiastical  property  and 
ecclesiastical  persons.  Thus  there  originates  with  the  Church 
the  contrasted  spectacle  of  a  body  consisting  only  of  private 


346  PAET    III.       THE    ROMAX    WOULD. 

persons  and  the  power  of  the  Emperor  on  the  secular  side ; — 
on  the  other  side,  the  perfect  democracy  of  the  spiritual  com- 
munity,  choosing  its  own  president.  Priestly  consecration, 
however,  soon  changes  this  democracy  into  aristocracy  ; — 
though  the  farther  development  of  the  Church  does  not 
belong  to  the  period  now  under  consideration,  but  must  be 
referred  to  the  world  of  a  later  date. 

It  was  then  through  the  Christian  Religion  that  the  Abso- 
lute Idea  of  God,  in  its  true  conception,  attained  conscious- 
ness. Here  Man,  too,  finds  himself  comprehended  in  his  true 
nature,  given  in  the  specific  conception  of  "  the  Son." 
Man,  finite  when  regarded  for  himself,  is  yet  at  the  same 
time  the  Image  of  God  and  a  fountain  of  infinity  in 
himself.  He  is  the  object  of  his  own  existence — has  in 
himself  an  infinite  value,  an  eternal  destiny.  Conse- 
quently he  has  Ins  true  home  in  a  super-sensuous  world— an 
infinite  subjectivity,  gained  only  by  a  rupture  with  mere 
Natural  existence  and  volition,  and  by  his  labour  to  break 
their  power  within  him.  This  is  religious  self-conscious- 
ness. But  in  order  to  enter  the  sphere  and  display  the  active 
vitality  of  that  religious  life,  humanity  must  become  capable 
of  it.  This  capability  is  the  $vva.fit£  for  that  ivipyeta.  What 
therefore  remains  to  be  considered  is,  those  conditions  of 
humanity  which  are  the  necessary  corollary  to  the  con- 
sideration that  Man  is  Absolute  Self-consciousness — his 
Spiritual  nature  being  the  starting-point  and  presupposition. 
These  conditions  are  themselves  not  yet  of  a  concrete  order, 
but  simply  the  first  abstract  principles,  which  are  won  by 
the  instrumentality  of  the  Christian  Religion  for  the  secular 
State.  First,  under  Christianity  Slavery  is  impossible  ;  for 
man  as  man — in  the  abstract  essence  of  his  nature — is  con- 
templated in  God  ;  each  unit  of  mankind  is  an  object  of  the 
grace  of  God  and  of  the  Divine  purpose :  "  God  will  have 
all  men  to  be  saved."  Utterly  excluding  all  speciality, 
therefore,  man,  in  and  for  himself— in  his  simple  quality  of 
man  —  has  infinite  value ;  and  this  infinite  value  abolishes,  ipso 
facto,  all  particularity  attaching  to  birth  or  country.  The 
other,  the  second  principle,  regards  the  subjectivity  of  man 
in  its  bearing  on  the  Fortuitous — on  Chance.  Humanity  haa 
this  sphere  of  free  Spirituality  in  and  for  itself,  and  every- 
thing else  mubt  proceed  from  it.  The  place  appropriated  to 


SECT.  III.  BOME  UNDER  TlIE  EMPERORS  -  CHEISTIANITT.    347 

the  abode  and  presence  of  the  Divine  Spirit— the  sphere  in 
question — is  Spiritual  Subjectivity,  and  is  constituted  the 
place  to  which  all  contingency  is  amenable.  It  follows 
thence,  that  what  we  observed  among  the  Greeks  as  a  form 
of  Customary  Morality,  cannot  maintain  its  position  in  the 
Christian  world.  For  that  morality  is  spontaneous  unre- 
flected  Wont ;  while  the  Christian  principle  is  independent 
subjectivity — the  soil  on  which  grows  the  True.  Now  an 
imreflected  morality  cannot  continue  to  hold  its  ground 
against  the  principle  of  Subjective  Freedom.  Greek  Free- 
dom was  that  of  Hap  and  "  Genius  ;"  it  was  still  conditioned 
by  Slaves  and  Oracles ;  but  now  the  principle  of  absolute 
Freedom  in  God  makes  its  appearance.  Man  now  no  longer 
sustains  the  relation  of  Dependence,  but  of  Love — in  the 
consciousness  that  he  is  a  partaker  in  the  Divine  existence. 
In  regard  to  particular  aims  [such  as  the  Greeks  referred  to 
oracular  decision],  man  now  forms  his  own  determinations 
and  recognizes  himself  as  plenipotentiary  in  regard  to  all 
finite  existence.  All  that  is  special  retreats  into  the  back- 
ground before  that  Spiritual  sphere  of  subjectivity,  which 
takes  a  secondary  position  only  in  presence  of  the  Divine 
Spirit.  The  superstition  of  oracles  and  auspices  is  thereby 
entirely  abrogated :  Man  is  recognized  as  the  absolute 
authority  in  crises  of  decision. 

It  is  the  two  principles  just  treated  of,  that  now  attach 
to  Spirit  in  this  its  self-contained  phase.  The  inner  shrine 
of  man  is  designed,  on  the  one  hand,  to  train  the  citizen  of 
the  religious  life  to  bring  himself  into  harmony  with  the 
Spirit  of  God ;  on  the  other  hand,  this  is  the  point  du 
depart  for  determining  secular  relations,  and  its  condition  is 
the  theme  of  Christian  History.  The  change  which  piety 
effects  must  not  remain  concealed  in  the  recesses  of  the 
heart,  but  must  become  an  actual,  present  world,  complying 
with  the  conditions  prescribed  by  that  Absolute  Spirit. 
Piety  of  heart  does  not,  per  se,  involve  the  submission 
of  the  subjective  will,  in  its  external  relations,  to  that 
piety.  On  the  contrary  we  see  all  passions  increasingly 
rampant  in  the  sphere  of  reality,  because  that  sphere  ia 
looked  down  upon  with  contempt,  from  the  lofty  position 
attained  by  the  world  of  mind,  as  one  destitute  of  all  claim 
and  value.  Th?  problem  to  be  sohed  is  therefore  the  im? 


348  PAET  in.     THE  KOMAN  WOULD. 

buing  of  the  sphere  of  [ordinary]  unreflected  Spiritual 
existence,  with  the  Idea  of  Spirit.  A  general  observation 
here  suggests  itself.  From  time  immemorial  it  has  been 
customary  to  assume  an  opposition  between  Reason  and 
Religion,  as  also  between  Religion  and  the  World;  but  on 
investigation  this  turns  out  to  be  only  a  distinction.  Reason 
in  general  is  the  Positive  Existence  [Wesen]  of  Spirit, 
divine  as  well  as  human.  The  distinction  between  Religion 
and  the  World  is  only  this — that  Religion  as  such,  is  Reason 
in  the  soul  and  heart — that  it  is  a  temple  in  which  Truth 
and  Freedom  in  God  are  presented  to  the  conceptive  faculty  : 
the  State,  on  the  other  hand,  regulated  by  the  selfsame 
Reason,  is  a  temple  of  Human  Freedom  concerned  with  the 
perception  and  volition  of  a  reality,  whose  purport  may  itself 
he  called  divine.  Thus  Freedom  in  the  State  is  preserved  and 
established  by  Religion,  since  moral  rectitude  in  the  State 
is  only  the  carrying  out  of  that  which  constitutes  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  Religion.  The  process  displayed  in 
History  is  only  the  manifestation  of  Religion  as  Human 
Reason — the  production  of  the  religious  principle  which 
dwells  in  the  heart  of  man,  under  the  form  of  Secular  Free- 
dom. Thus  the  discord  between  the  inner  life  of  the  heart 
and  the  actual  world  is  removed.  To  realize  this  is,  how- 
ever, the  vocation  of  another  people — or  other  peoples— viz., 
the  German.  In  ancient  Rome  itself,  Christianity  cannot 
find  a  ground  on  which  it  may  become  actual,  and  develop  an 
empire. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   BYZANTINE  EMPIRE. 

WITH  Constautine  the  Great  the  Christian  religion 
ascended  the  throne  of  the  empire.  He  was  followed  by  a 
succession  of  Christian  Emperors,  interrupted  only  by  Julian, 
— who  however,  could  do  but  little  for  the  prostrate  ancient 
faith.  The  Roman  Empire  embraced  the  whole  civilized 
earth,  from  the  Western  Ocean  to  the  Tigris, — from  the 
Ulterior  of  Africa,  to  the  Danube  (Pannonia,  Dacia.)  Chris- 


SECT.  III.  TJNDEB  THE  EMPERORS — ETZANT1NE  1'EBIOD.       3i9 

tianity  soon  spread  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  tliia 
enormous  realm.  Rome  had  long  ceased  to  be  the  exclusive 
residence  of  the  Emperors.  Many  of  Constantine's  pre- 
decessors had  resided  in  Milan  or  other  places ;  and  he  him- 
self established  a  second  court  in  the  ancient  Byzantium, 
which  received  the  name  of  Constantinople.  From  the  first 
its  population  consisted  chiefly  of  Christians,  and  Constan^ 
tine  lavished  every  appliance  to  render  this  new  abode  equal 
in  splendour  to  the  old.  The  empire  still  remained  in  its 
integrity  till  Theociosius  the  G-reat  made  permanent  a  separa- 
tion that  had  been  only  occasional,  and  divided  it  between 
his  two  sons.  The  reign  of  Theodosiua  displayed  the  last 
faint  glimmer  of  that  splendour  which  had  glorified  the 
Roman  world.  Under  him  the  pagan  temples  were  shut, 
the  sacrifices  and  ceremonies  abolished,  and  paganism  itself 
forbidden  :  gradually  however  it  entirely  vanished  of  itself. 
The  heathen  orators  of  the  time  cannot  sufficiently  express 
their  wonder  and  astonishment  at  the  monstrous  contrast 
between  the  days  of  their  forefathers  and  their  own. 
"  Our  Temples  have  become  Tombs.  The  places  which 
were  formerly  adorned  with  the  holy  statues  of  the  Gods 
are  now  covered  with  sacred  bones  (relics  of  the  Martyrs) ; 
men  who  have  suifered  a  shameful  death  for  their  crimes, 
whose  bodies  are  covered  with  stripes,  and  whose  heads  have 
been  embalmed,  are  the  object  of  veneration."  All  that 
was  contemned  is  exalted ;  all  that  was  formerly  revered,  is 
trodden  in  the  dust.  The  last  of  the  pagans  express  this 
enormous  contrast  with  profound  lamentation. 

The  Roman  Empire  was  divided  between  the  two  sons  of 
Theodosius.  The  elder,  Arcadius,  received  the  Eastern 
Empire  : — Ancient  Greece,  with  Thrace,  Asia  Minor,  Syria, 
Egypt ;  the  younger,  Honorius,  the  "Western  :  —  Italy, 
Africa,  Spain,  Gaul,  Britain.  Immediately  after  the  death 
of  Theodosius,  confusion  entered,  and  the  Roman  provinces 
were  overwhelmed  by  alien  peoples.  Already,  under  the 
Emperor  Valens,  the  Visigoths,  pressed  by  the  Huns,  had 
solicited  a  domicile  on  the  hither  side  of  the  Danube. 
This  was  granted  them,  on  the  condition  that  they  should 
defend  the  border  provinces  of  the  empire.  But  maltreat- 
ment roused  them  to  revolt.  Valens  was  beaten  and  fell 
on  the  field.  The  later  emperora  paid  court  to  the  leader 


350  PAKT    III.       THE    ROMAN    WOULD. 


of  those  Goths.  Alaric,  the  bold  Gothic  Chief,  turned  his 
arms  agaiust  Italy.  Stilicho,  the  general  and  minister  of  Ho- 
norius,  stayed  his  course  A.D.  403,  by  the  battle  of  Pollentia, 
as  at  a  later  date  he  also  routed  Radagaisus,  leader  of  the 
Alans,  Suevi,  and  others.  Alaric  now  attacked  Gaul  and 
Spain,  and  on  the  fall  of  Stilicho  returned  to  Italy. 
Home  was  stormed  and  plundered  by  him  A.D.  410.  After- 
wards Attila  advanced  on  it  with  the  terrible  might  of  the 
Huns, — one  of  those  purely  Oriental  phenomena,  which, 
like  a  mere  storm-torrent,  rise  to  a  furious  height  and  bear 
down  everything  in  their  course,  but  in  a  brief  space  are 
so  completely  spent,  that  nothing  is  seen  of  them  but  the 
traces  they  have  left  in  the  ruins  which  they  have  occasioned. 
Attila  pressed  into  Gaul,  where,  A.D.  451,  a  vigorous  resis- 
tance was  offered  him  by  ^JEtius,  near  Chalons  on  the  Mnrne. 
Victory  remained  doubtful.  Attila  subsequently  marched 
upon  Italy  and  died  in  the  year  453.  Soon  afterwards  how- 
ever Rome  was  taken  and  plundered  by  the  Vandals  under 
Genseric.  Finally,  the  dignity  of  the  Western  Emperors 
became  a  farce,  and  their  empty  title  was  abolished  bj 
Odoacer,  King  of  the  Heruli. 

The  Eastern  Empire  long  survived,  and  in  the  West  a 
new  Christian  population  was  formed  from  the  invading  bar- 
barian hordes.  Christianity  had  at  first  kept  aloof  from  the 
state,  and  the  development  which  it  experienced  related  to 
doctrine,  internal  organization,  discipline,  &c.  But  now  it 
had  become  dominant :  it  was  now  a  political  power,  a  poli- 
tical motive.  We  now  see  Christianity  under  two  forms : 
on  the  one  side  barbarian  nations  whose  culture  was  yet  to 
begin,  who  have  to  acquire  the  very  rudiments  of  science, 
law,  and  polity;  on  the  other  side  civilized  peoples  in  pos- 
session of  Greek  science  and  a  highly  refined  Oriental 
culture.  Municipal  legislation  among  them  was  complete 
— having  reached  the  highest  perfection  through  the  labours 
of  the  great  Roman  jurisconsults  ;  so  that  the  corpus  juris 
compiled  at  the  instance  of  the  Emperor  Justinian,  still 
excites  the  admiration  of  the  world.  Here  the  Christian 
religion  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  developed  civilization, 
which  did  not  proceed  from  it.  There,  on  the  contrary,  the 
process  of  culture  has  its  very  first  step  still  to  take,  and 
that  within  the  sphere  of  Christianity. 


SECT.  III.  UNDER  THE  EMPEKORS — BTZAirTl^E  PERIOD.     351 

These  two  empires,  therefore,  present  a  most  remarkable 
contrast,  in  which  we  have  before  our  eyes  a  grand  example 
of  the  necessity  of  a  people's  having  its  culture  developed  in 
the  spirit  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  history  of  the  highly 
civilized  Eastern  Empire — where  as  we  might  suppose,  the 
Spirit  of  Christianity  could  be  taken  up  in  its  truth  and 
purity — exhibits  to  us  a  millennial  series  of  uninterrupted 
crimes,  weaknesses,  basenesses  and  want  of  principle;  a 
most  repulsive  and  consequently  a  most  uninteresting  pic- 
ture. It  is  evident  here,  how  Christianity  may  be  abstract, 
and  how  as  such  it  is  powerless,  on  account  of  its  very  purity 
and  intrinsic  spirituality.  It  may  even  be  entirely  separated 
from  the  World,  as  e.  g.  in  Monasticism — whicli  originated 
in  Egypt.  It  is  a  common  notion  and  saying,  in  reference 
to  the  power  of  Eeligion,  abstractly  considered,  over  the  hearts 
of  men,  that  if  Christian  love  were  universal,  private  and 
political  life  would  both  be  perfect,  and  the  state  of  mankind 
would  be  thoroughly  righteous  and  moral.  Such  representa- 
tions may  be  a  pious  ivish,  but  do  not  possess  truth  ;  for 
religion  is  something  internal,  having  to  do  with  conscience 
alone.  To  it  all  the  passions  and  desires  are  opposed,  and 
in  order  that  heart,  will,  intelligence  may  become  true,  they 
must  be  thoroughly  educated ;  Eight  must  become  Custom — 
Habit ;  practical  activity  must  be  elevated  to  rational  action  ; 
the  State  must  have  a  rational  organization,  arid  then  at 
length  does  the  will  of  individuals  become  a  truly  righteous 
one.  Light  shining  in  darkness  may  perhaps  give  colour, 
but  not  a  picture  animated  by  Spirit.  The  Byzantine 
Empire  is  a  grand  example  of  how  the  Christian  religion 
may  maintain  an  abstract  character  among  a  cultivated  peo- 
ple, if  the  whole  organization  of  the  State  and  of  the  Laws  is 
not  reconstructed  in  harmony  with  its  principle.  At  Byzan- 
tium Christianity  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  dregs  of 
the  population — the  lawless  mob.  Popular  licence  on  the 
one  side  and  courtly  baseness  on  the  other  side,  take  refuge 
under  the  sanction  of  religion,  and  degrade  the  latter  to  a 
disgusting  object.  In  regard  to  religion,  two  interesto  ob- 
tained prominence :  first,  the  settlement  of  doctrine ;  and 
secondly,  the  appointment  to  ecclesiastical  offices.  Tho 
settlement  of  doctrine  pertained  to  the  Councils  and  Church 
authorities  ;  but  the  principle  of  Christianity  is  Freedom — 


852  PART    III.       THE    ROMAN    WORLD. 

subjective  insight.  These  matters  therefore,  were  special 
subjects  of  contention  for  the  populace  ;  violent  civil  wars 
arose,  and  every  where  might  be  witnessed  scenes  of  murder, 
conflagration  and  pillage,  perpetrated  in  the  cause  of  Christian 
dogmas.  A  famous  schism  e.g.  occurred  in  reference  to  the 
dogma  of  the  Tpi<rayiov.  The  words  read :  "  Holy,  Holy, 
Holy,  is  the  Lord  God  of  Zebaoth."  To  this,  one  party, 
in  honour  of  Christ,  added — "  who  was  crucified  for  us!" 
Another  party  rejected  the  addition,  and  sanguinary  strug- 
gles ensued.  In  the  contest  on  the  question  whether  Christ 
were  6/ioou<noc  or  6/zotovo-toe  — that  is  of  the  same  or  of  similar 
nature  with  God — the  one  letter  t  cost  many  thousands  their 
lives.  Especially  notorious  are  the  contentions  about 
Images,  in  which  it  often  happened,  that  the  Emperor 
declared  for  the  images  and  the  Patriarch  against,  or  con- 
versely. Streams  of  blood  flowed  as  the  result.  Gregory 
Nazianzen  says  somewhere :  "  This  city  (Constantinople,) 
is  full  of  handicraftsmen  and  slaves,  who  are  all  profound 
theologians,  and  preach  in  their  workshops  and  in  the  streets. 
If  you  want  a  man  to  change  a  piece  of  silver,  he  instructs 
you  in  what  consists  the  distinction  between  the  Father 
and  the  Son :  if  you  ask  the  price  of  a  loaf  of  bread,  you 
receive  for  answer, — that  the  Son  is  inferior  to  the  Father ; 
and  if  you  ask,  whether  the  bread  is  ready,  the  rejoinder  is 
that  the  genesis  of  the  Son  was  from  Nothing."  The  Idea  of 
Spirit  contained  in  this  doctrine  was  thus  treated  in  an  utterly 
unspiritual  manner.  The  appointment  to  the  Patriarchate 
at  Constantinople,  Antioch  and  Alexandria,  and  the  jealousy 
and  ambition  of  the  Patriarchs  likewise  occasioned  many 
intestine  struggles.  To  all  these  religious  contentions  was 
added  the  interest  in  the  gladiators  and  their  combats,  and  in 
the  parties  of  the  blue  and  green  colour,  which  likewise 
occasioned  the  bloodiest  encounters;  a  sign  of  the  most 
fearful  degradation,  as  proving  that  all  feeling  for  what  is 
serious  and  elevated  is  lost,  and  that  the  delirium  of  religious 
passion  is  quite  consistent  with  an  appetite  for  gross  and 
barbarous  spectacles. 

The  chief  points  in  the  Christian  religion  were  at  last, 
by  degrees,  established  by  the  Councils.  The  Christians  of 
the  Byzantine  Empire  remained  sunk  in  the  dream  of 
superstition — persisting  in  blind  obedience  to  the  Patriarchs 


SECT.  III.  UNDEB  THE  EMPEROKS  —  BYZANTINE  PEBIOD.    358 

and  the  priesthood.  Image-Worship,  to  which  we  alluded 
above,  occasioned  the  most  violent  struggles  and  storms. 
The  brave  Emperor  Leo  the  Isaurian  in  particular,  persecuted 
images  with  the  greatest  obstinacy,  and  in  the  year  754, 
Image- Worship  was  declared  by  a  Council  to  be  an  invention 
of  the  devil.  Nevertheless,  in  the  year  787  the  Empress 
Irene  had  it  restored  under  the  authority  of  a  Nicene 
Council,  and  the  Empress  Theodora  definitively  established  it 
^proceeding  against  its  enemies  with  energetic  rigour. 
The  iconoclastic  Patriarch  received  two  hundred  blows,  the 
bishops  trembled,  the  monks  exulted,  and  the  memory  of 
this  orthodox  proceeding  was  celebrated  by  an  annual  ec- 
clesiastical festival.  The  West,  on  the  contrary,  repudiated 
Image -Worship  as  late  as  the  year  794,  in  the  Council  held 
at  Frankfort ;  and,  though  retaining  the  images,  blamed 
most  severely  the  superstition  of  the  Greeks.  Not  till  the 
later  Middle  Ages  did  Image- Worship  meet  with  universal 
adoption  as  the  result  of  quiet  and  slow  advances. 

The  Byzantine  Empire  was  thus  distracted  by  passions  of 
all  kinds  within,  and  pressed  by  the  barbarians— to  whom 
the  Emperors  could  offer  but  feeble  resistance — without.  The 
realm  was  in  a  condition  of  perpetual  insecurity.  Its  general 
aspect  presents  a  disgusting  picture  of  imbecility ;  wretched, 
nay,  insane  passions,  stifle  the  growth  of  all  that  is  noble  in 
thoughts,  deeds,  and  persons.  Rebellion  on  the  part  of 
generals,  depositions  of  the  Emperors  by  their  means  or 
through  the  intrigues  of  the  courtiers,  assassination  or 
poisoning  of  the  Emperors  by  their  own  wives  and  sons, 
women  surrendering  themselves  to  lusts  and  abominations 
of  all  kinds — such  are  the  scenes  which  History  here  brings 
before  us  ;  till  at  last — about  the  middle  of  the  15th  century 
(A^D.  1453) — the  rotten  edifice  of  the  Eastern  Empire  crum.« 
bled  in  pieces  before  the  might  of  the  vigorous  Turk*. 


2  A 


354  PAilT  IV.       THE   GERMAN  WORLD. 

PART  IT. 

THE  GERMAN  WORLD. 

THE  German  Spirit  is  the  Spirit  of  the  new  World.  It§ 
aim  is  the  realization  of  absolute  Truth  as  the  unlimited 
self-determination  of  Freedom^ — that  Freedom  which  has 
its  own  absolute  form  itself  as  its  purport.*  The  destiny  of 
the  German  peoples  is,  to  be  the  bearers  of  the  Christian 
principle.  The  principle  of  Spiritual  Freedom— of  Recon- 
ciliation [of  the  Objective  and  Subjective], was  introduced  into 
the  still  simple,  unformed  minds  of  those  peoples;  and  the  part 
assigned  them  in  the  service  of  the  World-Spirit  was  that  of 
not  merely  possessing  the  Idea  of  Freedom  as  the  substratum 
of  their  religious  conceptions,  but  of  producing  it  in  free  and 
spontaneous  developments  from  their  subjective  self-con- 
Bciousness. 

In  entering  on  the  task  of  dividing  the  German  World 
into  its  natural  periods,  we  must  remark  that  we  have  not, 
as  was  the  case  in  treating  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  a 
double  external  relation — backwards  to  an  earlier  World- 
Historical  people,  and  forwards  to  a  later  one — to  guide  us. 
History  shews  that  the  process  of  development  among  the 
peoples  now  under  consideration,  was  an  altogether  different 
one.  The  Greeks  and  Romans  had  reached  maturity  within, 
ere  they  directed  their  energies  outwards.  The  Germans, 
on  the  contrary,  began  with  self- diffusion— deluging  the 
world,  and  overpowering  in  their  course  the  inwardly  rotten, 
hollow  political  fabrics  of  the  civilized  nations.  Only  then 
did  their  development  begin,  kindled  by  a  foreign  culture, 
a  foreign  religion,  polity  and  legislation.  The  process  of 
culture  they  underwent  consisted  in  taking  up  foreign 

*  That  is:  The  Supreme  Law  of  the  Universe  is  recognized  as 
identical  with  the  dictates  of  Conscience — becomes  a  "  law  of  liberty." 
Morality — that  authority  which  has  the  incontestable  right  to  determine 
men's  actions,  which  therefore  is  the  only  absolutely  free  and  unlimited 
power — is  no  longer  a  compulsory  enactment,  but  the  free  choice  of  human 
beings.  The  good  man  would  make  Law  for  himself  if  he  found  none  made 
for  him,— T»« 


PART   IV.       THE    GERMAN    WORLD.  355 

elements  and  reductively  amalgamating  then?  with  their 
own  national 'life.  Thus  their  history  presents  an  intro- 
version— the  attraction  of  alien  forms  of  life  and  the 
bringing  these  to  bear  upon  their  own.  In  the  Crusades, 
indeed,  and  in  the  discovery  of  America,  the  Western  World 
directed  its  energies  outwards.  But  it  was  not  thus 
brought  in  contact  with  a  World-Historical  people  that  had 
preceded  it ;  it  did  not  dispossess  a  principle  that  had  pre- 
viously governed  the  world.  The  relation  to  an  extraneous 
principle  here  only  accompanies,  [does  not  constitute]  the  his- 
tory— does  not  bring  with  it  essential  changes  in  the  nature 
of  those  conditions  which  characterize  the  peoples  in  question, 
but  rather  wears  the  aspect  of  internal  evolution.* — The  re- 
lation to  other  countries  and  periods  is  thus  entirely  different 
from  that  sustained  by  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  For  the 
Christian  world  is  the  world  of  completion  ;  the  grand  prin> 
ciple  of  being  is  realized,  consequently  the  end  of  days  is  fully 
come.  The  Idea  can  discover  in  Christianity  no  point  in 
the  aspirations  of  Spirit  that  is  not  satisfied.  For  its  indi- 
vidual members,  the  Church  is,  it  is  true,  a  preparation  for 
an  eternal  state  as  something  future  ;  since  the  units  who 
compose  it,  in  their  isolated  and  several  capacity,  occupy  a 
position  of  particularity  :  but  the  Church  has  also  the  Spirit 
of  God  actually  present  in  it,  it  forgives  the  sinner  and  is  a 
present  kingdom  of  heaven.  Thus  the  Christian  World  has 
no  absolute  existence  outside  its  sphere,  but  only  a  relative 
one  which  is  already  implicitly  vanquished,  and  in  respect 
to  which  its  only  concern  is  to  make  it  apparent  that  this 
conquest  has  taken  place.  Hence  it  follows  that  an  external 
reference  ceases  to  be  the  characteristic  element  determining 
the  epochs  of  the  modern  world.  We  have  therefore  to  look 
for  another  principle  of  division. 

The  German  World  took  up  the  Roman  culture  and  reli- 
gion in  their  completed  form.  There  was  indeed  a  German 
and  Northern  religion,  but  it  had  by  no  means  taken  deep 
root  in  the  soul ;  Tacitus  therefore  calls  the  Germans  : 
"  Securi  ad  versus  Deos."  The  Christian  Religion  which 
they  adopted,  had  received  from  Councils  and  Fathers  o. 

•  The  influence  of  the  Crusades  and  of  the  discovery  of  America  was 
simply  reflex.  No  other  phase  of  humanity  was  thereby  merged  ia 
Christendom.-— TR. 

2  A  2 


356  FABT   IT.      THE    GEEMAW   WOELD. 

the  Church,  who  possessed  the  whole  ctlture,  and  in  par- 
ticular, the  philosophy  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  World,  a 
perfected  dogmatic  system  ;  the  Church,  too,  had  a  com- 
pletely developed  hierarchy.  To  the  native  tongue  of  the 
Germans,  the  Church  likewise  opposed  one  perfectly  de- 
veloped— the  Latin.  In  art  and  philosophy  a  similar  alien 
influence  predominated.  What  of  Alexandrian  and  of  formal 
Aristotelian  philosophy  was  still  preserved  in  the  writings 
of  Boethius  and  elsewhere,  became  the  fixed  basis  of  specula- 
tive thought  in  the  West  for  many  centuries.  The  same 
principle  holds  in  regard  to  the  form  of  the  secular  sove- 
reignty. Gothic  and  other  chiefs  gave  themselves  the  name 
of  Roman  Patricians,  and  at  a  later  date  the  Roman  Empire 
was  restored.  Thus  the  German  world  appears,  superficially, 
to  be  only  a  continuation  of  the  Roman.  But  there  lived 
in  it  an  entirely  new  Spirit,  through  which  the  World  was  to 
be  regenerated — the  free  Spirit,  viz.  which  reposes  on  itself 
— the  absolute  self-determination  [Eigensinn]  of  subjec- 
tivity. To  this  self-involved  subjectivity,  the  corresponding 
objectivity  [Inhalt]  stands  opposed,  as  absolutely  alien. 
The  distinction  and  antithesis  which  is  evolved  from  these 
principles,  is  that  of  Church  and  State.  On  the  one  side, 
the  Church  develops  itself,  as  the  embodiment  of  absolute 
Truth  ;  for  it  is  the  consciousness  of  this  truth,  and  at  the 
isame  time  the  agency  for  rendering  the  Individual  harmo- 
nious with  it.  On  the  other  side  stands  secular  conscious- 
ness, which,  with  its  aims,  occupies  the  world  of  Limitation 
— the  State,  based  on  Heart  [emotional  and  thence  social 
affections]  or  mutual  confidence  and  subjectivity  generally. 
European  history  is  the  exhibition  of  the  growth  of  each  of 
these  principles  severally,  in  Church  and  State ;  then  of  an 
antithesis  on  the  part  of  both — not  only  of  the  one  to  the 
other,  but  appearing  within  the  sphere  of  each  of  these 
bodies  themselves  (since  each  of  them  is  itself  a  totality)  ; 
lastly,  of  the  harmonizing  of  the  antithesis. 

The  three  periods  of  this  world  will  have  to  be  treated 
accordingly. 

The  first  begins  with  the  appearance  of  the  G-erman 
Nations  in  the  Roman  Empire — the  incipient  development 
of  these  peoples,  converts  to  Christianity,  and  now  estab- 
lished in  the  possession  of  the  West.  Theii  barbaroui 


PAET    IV.      THE    GEEMAN    WORLD.  357 

and  simple  character  prevents  this  initial  period  from  pos- 
sessing any  great  interest.  The  Christian  world  then  pre- 
sents itself  as  "  Christendom" — one  mass,  in  which  the 
Spiritual  and  the  Secular  form  only  different  aspects.  This 
epoch  extends  to  Charlemagne. 

The  second  period  develops  the  two  sides  of  the  antithesis 
to  a  logically  consequential  independence  and  opposition — 
the  Church  for  itself  as  a  Theocracy,  and  the  State  for  itself 
as  a  Feudal  Monarchy.  Charlemagne  had  formed  an  alliance 
with  the  Holy  See  against  the  Lombards  and  the  factions  of 
the  nobles  in  E-ome.  A  union  thus  arose  between  the 
spiritual  and  the  secular  power,  and  a  kingdom  of  heaven 
on  earth  promised  to  follow  in  the  wake  of  this  conciliation. 
But  just  at  this  time,  instead  of  a  spiritual  kingdom  of 
heaven,  the  inwardness  of  the  Christian  principle  wears 
the  appearance  of  being  altogether  directed  outwards  and 
leaving  its  proper  sphere.  Christian  Freedom  is  perverted  to 
its  very  opposite,  both  in  a  religious  and  secular  respect ; 
on  the  one  hand  to  the  severest  bondage,  on  the  other  hand 
to  the  most  immoral  excess — a  barbarous  intensity  of  every 
passion.  In  this  period  two  aspects  of  society  are  to  be 
especially  noticed  :  the  first  is  the  formation  of  states — su- 
perior and  inferior  suzerainties  exhibiting  a  regulated  sub- 
ordination, so  that  every  relation  becomes  a  firmly-fixed 
Erivate  right,  excluding  a  sense  of  universality.  This  regu- 
ited  subordination  appears  in  the  Feudal  System.  The 
second  aspect  presents  the  antithesis  of  Church  and  State. 
This  antithesis  exists  solely  because  the  Church,  to  whose 
management  the  Spiritual  was  committed,  itself  sinks  down 
into  every  kind  of  worldliness — a  worldliness  which  appears 
only  the  more  detestable,  because  all  passions  assume  the 
sanction  of  religion. 

The  time  of  Charles  the  Fifth's  reign — i.  e.t  the  first  half 
of  the  sixteenth  century — forms  the  end  of  the  second,  and 
likewise  the  beginning  of  the  third  period.  Secularity 
appears  now  as  gaining  a  consciousness  of  its  intrinsic  worth 
— becomes  aware  of  its  having  a  value  of  its  own  in  the 
morality,  rectitude,  probity  and  activity  of  man.  The  con- 
s^iousness  of  independent  validity  is  aroused  through  the 
restoration  of  Christian  freedom.  The  Christian  principle 
has  now  passed  through  the  terrible  discipline  of  culture. 


358          PART  IV.   THE  GERMAN  WORLD. 

and  it  first  attains  truth  and  reality  through  the  Reforma- 
tion. This  third  period  of  the  German  World  extends 
from  the  Reformation  to  our  own  times.  The  principle  of 
Free  Spirit  is  here  made  the  banner  of  the  World,  and  from 
this  principle  are  evolved  the  universal  axioms  of  Reason. 
Formal  Thought — the  Understanding — had  been  already 
developed ;  but  Thought  received  its  true  material  first  with 
the  Reformation,  through  the  reviviscent  concrete  con- 
sciousness of  Free  Spirit.  From  that  epoch  Thought  began 
to  gain  a  culture  properly  its  own  :  principles  were  derived 
from  it  which  were  to  be  the  norm  for  the  constitution  of 
the  State.  Political  life  was  now  to  be  consciously  regulated 
by  Reason.  Customary  morality,  traditional  usage  lost  its 
validity  ;  the  various  claims  insisted  upon,  must  proTe  their 
legitimacy  as  based  on  rational  principles.  Not  till  this  era 
is  the  Freedom  of  Spirit  realized. 

We  may  distinguish  these  periods  as  Kingdoms  of  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit.*  The  Kingdom  of  the 
Father  is  the  consolidated,  undistinguished  mass,  presenting 
a  self-repeating  cycle,  mere  change — like  that  sovereignty  of 
Chronos  engulfing  his  offspring.  The  Kingdom  of  the  Son 
is  the  manifestation  of  God  merely  in  a  relation  to  secular 
existence, —  shining  upon  it  as  upon  an  alien  object.  The 
Kingdom  of  the  Spirit  is  the  harmonizing  of  the  antithesis. 

These  epochs  may  be  also  compared  with  the  earlier 
empires.  In  the  German  aeon,  as  the  realm  of  Totality, 
we  sec  the  distinct  repetition  of  the  earlier  epochs.  Charle- 
magne's time  may  be  compared  with  the  Persian  Empire ; 
it  is  the  period  of  substantial  unity — this  unity  having  its 


*  The  conception  of  a  mystical  regnum  PatHg,  regmtm  Filii  and  rcp- 
num  Spiritus  Sancti  is  perfectly  familiar  to  metaphysical  theologians. 
The  first  represents  the  period  in  which  Deity  is  not  yet  manifested — re- 
mains self-involved.  The  second  is  that  of  manifestation  in  an  individual 
being,  standing  apart  from  mankind  generally — "  the  Son."  Tne  third  ia 
that  in  which  this  barrier  is  broken  down,  and  an  intimate  mystical  com- 
munion ensues  between  God  in  Christ  and  the  Regenerated,  when  God  is 
"all  in  all."  This  remark  may  serve  to  prevent  misconception  as  to  the 
tone  of  the  remainder  of  the  paragraph.  The  mention  of  the  Greek  myth 
will  appear  pertinent  in  the  view  of  those  who  admit  what  seems  a  very 
reasonable  explanation  of  it — viz  ,  as  an  adumbration  of  the  wlf-involved 
character  of  the  pre-historical  period. — TE- 


BART    IT.      THE    GERMAN   WORLD.  359 

foundation  in  the  inner  man,  the  Heart,  and  both  in  the 
Spiritual  and  the  Secular  still  abiding  in  its  simplicity. 

To  the  Greek  world  and  its  merely  ideal  unity,  the  time 
preceding  Charles  V.  answers ;  where  real  unity  no  longer 
exists,  because  all  phases  of  particularity  have  become  fixed 
in  privileges  and  peculiar  rights.  As  in  the  interior  of  the 
realms  themselves,  the  different  estates  of  the  realm,  with 
their  several  claims,  are  isolated,  so  do  the  various  states 
in  their  foreign  aspects  occupy  a  merely  external  relation  to 
each  other.  A  diplomatic  policy  arises,  which  in  the  interest 
of  a  European  balance  of  power,  unites  them  with  and 
against  each  other.  It  is  the  time  in  which  the  world 
becomes  clear  and  manifest  to  itself  (Discovery  of  America). 
So  too  does  consciousness  gain  clearness  in  the  supersensuous 
world  and  respecting  it.  Substantial  objective  religion  brings 
itself  to  sensuous  clearness  in  the  sensuous  element  (Chris- 
tian Art  in  the  age  of  Pope  Leo),  and  also  becomes  clear  to 
itself  in  the  element  of  inmost  truth.  We  may  compare 
this  time  with  that  of  Pericles.  The  introversion  of  Spirit 
begins  (Socrates — Luther),  though  Pericles  is  wanting  in 
this  epoch.  Charles  V.  possesses  enormous  possibilities  in 
point  of  outward  appliances,  and  appears  absolute  in  his 
power ;  but  the  inner  spirit  of  Pericles,  and  therefore  the 
absolute  means  of  establishing  a  free  sovereignty,  is  not  in 
him.  This  is  the  epoch  when  Spirit  becomes  clear  to  itself  in 
separations  occurring  in  the  realm  of  reality  ;  now  the  distinct 
elements  of  the  German  world  manifest  their  essential  nature. 

The  third  epoch  may  be  compared  with  the  Roman  World. 
The  unity  of  a  universal  principle  is  here  quite  as  decidedly 
present,  yet  not  as  the  unity  of  abstract  universal  sovereignty, 
but  as  the  Hegemony  of  self-cognizant  Thought.  The  au- 
thority of  Rational  Aim  is  acknowledged,  and  privileges  and 
particularities  melt  away  before  the  common  object  of  the 
State.  Peoples  will  the  Right  in  and  for  itself ;  regard  is  not 
had  exclusively  to  particular  conventions  between  nations, 
but  principles  enter  into  the  considerations  with  which  diplo- 
macy is  occupied.  As  little  can  Religion  maintain  itself  apart 
from  Thought,  but  either  advances  to  the  comprehension  of 
the  Idea,  or,  compelled  by  thought  itself,  becomes  intensive 
belief— or  lastly,  from  despair  of  finding  itself  at  home  in 
thought,  flees  back  from  it  in  pious  horror,  and  become* 
Superstition. 


36O  PART  IT.      THE   GEBMAN  WOELD. 

SECTION  I. 
THE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  GERMAN  WORLD, 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  BARBARIAN  MIGRATIONS. 

RESPECTING  this  first  period,  we  have  on  the  whole  little 
to  say,  for  it  affords  us  comparatively  slight  materials  for  re- 
flection. We  will  not  follow  the  Germans  back  into  their 
forests,  nor  investigate  the  origin  of  their  migrations.  Those 
forests  of  theirs  have  always  passed  for  the  abodes  of  free 
peoples,  and  Tacitus  sketched  his  celebrated  picture  of  Ger- 
many with  a  certain  love  and  longing  —  contrasting  it 
with  the  corruption  and  artificiality  of  that  world  to  which  he 
himself  belonged.  But  we  must  not  on  this  account  regard 
such  a  state  of  barbarism  as  an  exalted  one,  or  fall  into 
some  such  error  as  Rousseau's,  who  represents  the  condi- 
tion of  the  American  savages  as  one  in  which  man  is  in  pos- 
session of  true  freedom.  Certainly  there  is  an  immense 
amount  of  misfortune  and  sorrow  of  which  the  savage  knows 
nothing ;  but  this  is  a  merely  negative  advantage,  while 
freedom  is  essentially  positive.  *  It  is  only  the  blessings  con- 
ferred by  aflirmative  freedom  that  are  regarded  as  such  in 
the  highest  grade  of  consciousness. 

Our  first  acquaintance  with  the  Germans  finds  each  indi- 
vidual enjoying  an  independent  freedom  ;  and  yet  there  is  a 
certain  community  of  feeling  and  interest,  though  not  yet 
matured  to  a  political  condition.  Next  we  see  them  inun- 
dating the  Roman  empire.  It  was  partly  the  fertility  of  its 
domains,  partly  the  necessity  of  seeking  other  habitations, 
that  furnished  the  inciting  cause.  In  spite  of  the  wars  in 
which  they  engage  with  the  Romans,  individuals,  and  even 
entire  clans,  enter  their  service  as  soldiers.  Even  so  early 
as  the  battle  of  Pharsalia  we  find  German  cavalry  united 
with  the  Roman  forces  of  Caesar.  In  military  service  and 
intercourse  with  civilized  peoples,  they  became  acquainted 
with  their  advantages — advantages  tending  to  the  enjoyment 
and  convenience  of  life,  but  also,  and  principally,  those  of 


SECT.  I.  ELEMENTS  OE  THE  CHBISTIAN  GERMAN  WOELD.   361 

mental  cultivation.  In  the  later  emigrations,  many  nations 
— some  entirely,  others  partially — remained  behind  in  their 
original  abodes. 

Accordingly,  a  distinction  must  be  made  between  the 
German  nations  who  remained  in  their  ancient  habitations 
and  those  who  spread  themselves  over  the  Roman  empire, 
and  mingled  with  the  conquered  peoples.  Since  in  their 
migratory  expeditions  the  G-ermans  attached  themselves 
to  their  leaders  of  their  own  free  choice,  we  find  a  pecu- 
liar duplicate  condition  of  the  great  Teutonic  families 
(Eastern  and  "Western  Goths;  Goths  in  all  parts  of  the 
world  and  in  their  original  country ;  Scandinavians  and 
Normans  in  Norway,  but  also  appearing  as  knightly  adven- 
turers in  the  wide  world).  However  different  might  be  the 
fates  of  these  peoples,  they  nevertheless  had  one  aim  in 
common — to  procure  themselves  possessions,  and  to  develop 
themselves  in  the  direction  of  political  organization.  This 
process  of  growth  is  equally  characteristic  of  all.  In  the 
"West — in  Spain  and  Portugal — the  Suevi  and  Vandals  are 
the  first  settlers,  but  are  subdued  and  dispossessed  by  the 
Visigoths.  A  great  Visigoihic  kingdom  was  established,  to 
which  Spain,  Portugal,  and  a  part  of  Southern  "France  be- 
longed. The  second  kingdom  is  that  of  the  Franks — a  name 
which,  from  the  end  of  the  second  century,  was  given  in  com- 
mon to  thelstaBVonian  races  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Weser. 
They  established  themselves  between  the  Moselle  and  the 
Scheldt,  and  under  their  leader,  Clovis,  pressed  forward  into 
Gaul  as  far  as  the  Loire.  He  afterwards  reduced  the  Franks 
on  the  Lower  Rhine,  and  the  Alemanni  on  the  Upper  Rhine ; 
his  sons  subjugated  the  Thuringians  and  Burgundians.  The 
third  kingdom  is  that  of  the  Ostrogoths  in  Italy,  founded  by 
Theodoric,  and  highly  flourishing  beneath  his  rule.  The 
learned  Romans  Cassiodorus  and  Boethius  filled  the  highest 
offices  of  state  under  Theodoric.  But  this  Ostrogothic  king- 
dom did  not  last  long  ;  it  was  destroyed  by  the  Byzantines 
under  Belisarius  and  Narsos.  In  the  second  half  (568)  of 
the  sixth  century,  the  Lombards  invaded  Italy  and  ruled  for 
two  centuries,  till  this  kingdom  also  was  subjected  to  the 
.Frank  sceptre  by  Charlemagne.  At  a  later  date,  the  Nor- 
mans also  established  themselves  in  Lower  Italy.  Our  at- 
tention is  next  claimed  by  the  Burgundians,  who  were  sub- 


862  PABT   IT.      THE    GERMAN    WORLD. 

jugated  by  the  Franks,  and  whose  kingdom  forms  a  kind  of 
partition  wall  between  France  and  Germany.  The  Angles 
and  Saxons  entered  Britain  and  reduced  it  under  their  sway. 
Subsequently,  the  Normans  make  their  appearance  her© 
also. 

These  countries— previously  a  part  of  the  Eoman  empire 
—-thus  experienced  the  fate  of  subjugation  by  the  Barba- 
rians. In  the  first  instance,  a  great  contrast  presented  itself 
between  the  already  civilized  inhabitants  of  those  countries 
and  the  victors ;  but  this  contrast  terminated  in  the  hybrid 
character  of  the  new  nations  that  were  now  formed.  The 
whole  mental  and  moral  existence  of  such  states  exhibits  a 
divided  aspect ;  in  their  inmost  being  we  have  character- 
istics that  point  to  an  alien  origin.  This  distinction  strikes 
us  even  on  the  surface,  in  their  language,  which  is  an  inter- 
mixture of  the  ancient  Eoman— already  united  with  the 
vernacular — and  the  German.  We  may  class  these  nations 
together  as  Romanic — comprehending  thereby  Italy,  Spain, 
Portugal,  and  France.  Contrasted  with  these  stand  three 
others,  more  or  less  German-speaking  nations,  which  have 
maintained  a  consistent  tone  of  uninterrupted  fidelity  to  na- 
tive character  —  Germany  itself,  Scandinavia,  and  England. 
The  last  was,  indeed,  incorporated  in  the  Roman  empire,  but 
was  affected  by  Eoman  culture  little  more  than  superficially 
— like  Germany  itself— and  was  again  Germanized  by  An- 
gles and  Saxons.  Germany  Proper  kept  itself  pure  from 
any  admixture :  only  the  southern  and  western  border — on 
the  Danube  and  the  Ehiue — had  been  subjugated  by  the 
Eomans.  The  portion  between  the  Ehine  and  the  Elbe 
remained  thoroughly  national.  This  part  of  Germany  was 
inhabited  by  several  tribes.  Besides  the  Eipuariau  Franks 
and  those  established  by  Clovis  in  the  districts  of  the  Maine, 
four  leading  tribes— the  Alemanni,  the  Boioarians,  the  Thu- 
ringians,  and  the  Saxoms — must  be  mentioned.  The  Scan- 
dinavians retained  in  their  fatherland  a  similar  purity  from 
intermixture ;  and  also  made  themselves  celebrated  by  their 
expeditions,  under  the  name  of  Normans.  They  extended 
their  chivalric  enterprises  over  almost  all  parts  of  Europe. 
Part  of  them  went  to  Eussia,  and  there  became  the  founders 
of  the  Eussian  Empire  ;  part  settled  in  Northern  France 
and  Britain  ;  another  established  principalities  in  Lower 


SECT.  I.  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  GERMAN  WOULD.    363 

Italy  and  Sicily.  Thus  a  part  of  the  Scandinavians  founded 
states  in  foreign  lands,  another  maintained  its  nationality 
by  the  ancestral  hearth. 

"We  find,  moreover,  in  the  East  of  Europe,  the  great 
Sclavonic  nation,  whose  settlements  extended  west  of  the 
Elbe  to  the  Danube.  The  Magyars  (Hungarians)  settled 
in  between  them.  In  Moldavia,  Wallachia  and  northern 
Greece  appear  the  Bulgarians,  Servians,  and  Albanians, 
likewise  of  Asiatic  origin  — left  behind  as  broken  barbarian 
remains  in  the  shocks  and  counter-shocks  of  the  advancing 
hordes.  These  people  did,  indeed,  found  kingdoms  and  sus- 
tain spirited  conflicts  with  the  various  nations  that  came 
across  their  path.  Sometimes,  as  an  advanced  guard — an 
intermediate  nationality  —  they  took  part  in  the  strug- 
gle between  Christian  Europe  and  unchristian  Asia.  The 
Poles  even  liberated  beleaguered  Vienna  from  the  Turks ; 
and  the  Sclaves  have  to  some  extent  been  drawn  within  the 
sphere  of  Occidental  Reason.  Yet  this  entire  body  of  peoples 
remains  excluded  from  our  consideration,  because  hitherto  it 
has  not  appeared  as  an  independent  element  in  the  series  of 
phases  that  Reason  has  assumed  in  the  World.  Whether  it 
will  do  so  hereafter,  is  a  question  that  does  not  concern  ua 
here ;  for  in  History  we  have  to  do  with  the  Past. 

The  G-erman  Nation  was  characterised  by  the  sense  of 
Natural  Totality — an  idiosyncrasy  which  we  may  call  Heart 
[Gremiith].*  "Heart"  is  that  undeveloped,  indeterminate 
totality  of  Spirit,  in  reference  to  the  Will,  in  which  satisfac- 
tion of  soul  is  attained  in  a  correspondingly  general  and  in- 
determinate way.  Character  is  a  particular  form  of  will  and 
interest  asserting  itself ;  but  the  quality  in  question 
[Q-emiithlichkeit]  has  no  particular  aim — riches,  honour,  or 
the  like ;  in  fact  does  not  concern  itself  with  any  objective 
condition  [a  "  position  in  the  world  "  in  virtue  of  wealth,  dig- 
nity, &c.]  but  with  the  entire  condition  of  the  soul  —  a 
general  sense  of  enjoyment.  "Will  in  the  case  of  such  an 

*  The  word  "  Gemiith"  has  no  exactly  coi  responding  term  in  English. 
It  is  used  further  on  synonymously  with  "  Herz,"  and  the  openness  to 
various  emotions  and  impressions  which  it  implies,  may  perhaps  be  ap- 
proximately rendered  by  "  Heart."  Yet  it  is  but  an  awkward  substitute. 
— TR. 


364  PA.BT  IT.      THE    GEBMAN   WORLD. 

idiosyncrasy  is  exelusivelyybrwaZ  Will* — its  purely  subjective 
Freedom  exhibits  itself  as  self-will.  To  the  disposition  thus 
designated,  every  particular  object  of  attraction  seems  impor- 
tant,  for  "  Heart "  surrenders  itself  entirely  to  each ;  but  as, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  interested  in  the  quality  of  such 
aim  in  the  abstract,  it  does  not  become  exclusively  absorbed 
in  that  aim,  so  as  to  pursue  it  with  violent  and  evil  passion 
— does  not  go  the  length  of  abstract  vice.  In  the  idiosyn- 
crasy we  term  "  Heart,"  no  such  absorption  of  interest  pre- 
sents itself ;  it  wears,  on  the  whole,  the  appearance  of  "  well- 
meaning.'*  Character  is  its  direct  opposite.f 

This  is  the  abstract  principle  innate  in  the  German  peo- 
ples, and  that  subjective  side  which  they  present  to  the  ob- 
jective in  Christianity.  "  Heart "  has  no  particular  object ; 
in  Christianity  we  have  the  Absolute  Object,  [i.e.  it  is  con- 
cerned with  the  entire  range  of  Truth] — all  that  can  engage 

•  Formal  Will  or  Subjective  Freedom  is  inclination  or  mere  casual 
liking,  and  is  opposed  to  Substantial  or  Objective  Will — also  called  Ob- 
jective Freedom — which  denotes  the  principles  that  form  the  basis  of 
society,  and  that  have  been  spontaneously  adopted  by  particular   nations 
or  by  mankind  generally.     The  latter  as  well  as  the  former  may  lay  claim 
to  being  a  manifestation  of  Human  Will.  For  however  rigid  the  restraints 
which  those  principles  impose  on  individuals,  they  are  the  result  of  no  extra- 
neous compulsion  brought  to  bear  on  the  community  at  large,  and  are  re- 
cognized as  rightfully  authoritative  even  by  the  individuals  whose  physical 
comfort  or  relative  affections  they  most  painfully  contravene.  Unquestion- 
ing homage  to  unreasonable  despotism,  and  the  severe  rubrics  of  religious 
penance,  can  be  traced  to  no  natural  necessity  or  stimulus  db  extra.  The 
principles  in  which  these  originate,  may  rather  be  called  the  settled  and 
tupreme  determination  of  the  community  that  recognizes  them.     The  term 
"  Objective  Will"  seems  therefore  not  unfitly  used  to  describe  the  psycho- 
logical phenomena  in  question.  The  term"  Substantial  Will,"  (as opposed 
to  "  Formal   Will")  denoting  the  same   phenomena,   needs  no  defence 
or  explanation.      The   third  term,  "  Objective   Freedom,"    used   syno- 
nymously with  the  two  preceding,  is  justified  on  the  ground  of  the  un- 
limited dominion  exercised  by  such  principles  as  those  mentioned  above. 
*'  Deus  solus  liber."     (See  remarks  to  this  effect  on  page  35  of  the  Intro- 
duction, and  elsewhere.) — TR. 

*  An  incapacity  for  conspiracy  has  been  remarked  as  a  characteristic 
feature  of  the  Teutonic  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  British  Isles,  an 
Compared  with  their  Celtic  countrymen.     If  such  a  difference  can  be  sub- 
stantiated, we  seem  to  have  an  important  illustration  and  confirmation  cf 
Hegel's  view.— TB. 


SECT.  I.   ELEMENTS  Of  THE  CHRISTIAN  GERMAN  WORLD.    3G5 

and  occupy  human  subjectivity.  Now  it  is  the  desire  of 
satisfaction  without  further  definition  or  restriction,  that  is 
involved  in  "  H  eart ;"  audit  is  exactly  that  for  which  we 
found  an  appropriate  application  in  the  principle  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  Indefinite  as  Substance,  in  objectivity,  is  the 
purely  Universal — God  ;  while  the  reception  of  the  indivi- 
dual will  to  a  participation  in  His  favour,  is  the  comple- 
mentary element  in  the  Christian  concrete  Unity.  The 
absolutely  Universal  is  that  which  contains  in  it  all  deter- 
minations, and  in  virtue  of  this  is  itself  indeterminate 
Subject  [individual  personality]  is  the  absolutely  determinate; 
and  these  two  are  identical.*  This  was  exhibited  above  as 
the  material  content  [Inhalt]  in  Christianity ;  here  we  find 
it  subjectively  as  "  Heart."  Subject  [Personality]  must  then 
also  gain  an  objective  form,  that  is,  be  expanded  to  an  object. 
It  is  necessary  that  for  the  indefinite  susceptibility  which  we 
designate  •"  Heart,"  the  Absolute  also  should  assume  the 
form  of  an  Object,  in  order  that  man  on  his  part  may  attain 
a  consciousness  of  his  unity  with  that  object.  But  this  re- 
cognition of  the  Absolute  [in  Christ]  requires  the  purification 
of  man's  subjectivity — requires  it  to  become  a  real,  concrete 
self,  a  sharer  in  general  interests  as  a  denizen  of  the  world 
at  large,  and  that  it  should  act  in  accordance  with  large  and 
liberal  aims,  recognize  Law,  and  find  satisfaction  in  it. — Thus 
we  find  here  two  principles  corresponding  the  one  with  the 
other,  and  recognize  the  adaptation  of  the  German  peoples 
to  be,  as  we  stated  above,  the  bearers  of  the  higher  principle 
of  Spirit. 

We   advance  then  to  the  consideration  of  the  German 


*  Pure  Self— pure  subjectivity  or  personality — not  only  excludes  all 
that  is  manifestly  objective,  all  that  is  evidently  Not-Self,  but  also  ab- 
stracts from  any  peculiar  conditions  that  may  temporarily  adhere  to  it, 
e.g.  youth  or  age,  riches  or  poverty,  a  present  or  a  future  state.  Thus 
though  it  seems,  primd  facie,  a  fixed  point  or  atom,  it  is  absolutely 
unlimited.  By  loss  or  degradation  of  bodily  and  mental  faculties,  it  is 
possible  to  conceive  one's  self  degraded  to  a  position  which  it  would  be 
impossible  to  distinguish  from  that  which  we  attribute  to  the  brutes,  or 
by  increase  and  improvement  of  those  faculties,  indefinitely  elevated  in  the 
scale  of  being,  while  yet  self — personal  identity — is  retained.  On  the 
other  hand,  Absolute  Being  in  the  Christian  concrete  view,  is  an  Infinite 
Self.  The  Absolutely  Limited  ia  thus  shewn  to  be  identical  with  th« 
Absolutely  Unlimited. — TB. 


PART   IV.         THE    OERMA1T    WORLD. 

principle  in  its  primary  phase  of  existence,  i.e.  the  earliest 
historical  condition  of  the  German  nations.  Their  quality 
of  "  Heart'*  is  in  its  first  appearance  quite  abstract,  undeve- 
loped and  destitute  of  any  particular  object ;  for  substantial 
aims  are  not  involved  in  "  Heart"  itself.  Where  this  sus- 
ceptibility stands  alone,  it  appears  as  a  want  of  character — 
mere  inanity.  "  Heart"  as  purely  abstract,  is  dulness ;  thus 
we  see  in  the  original  condition  of  the  Germans  a  barbarian 
dulness,  mental  confusion  and  vagueness.  Of  the  Religion 
of  the  Germans  we  know  little. — The  Druids  belonged  to  Gaul 
and  were  extirpated  by  the  Romans.  There  was  indeed,  a 
peculiar  northern  mythology;  but  how  slight  a  hold  the 
religion  of  the  Germans  had  upon  their  hearts,  has  been 
already  remarked,  and  it  is  also  evident  from  the  fact  that  the 
Germans  were  easily  converted  to  Christianity.  The  Saxons, 
it  is  true,  offered  considerable  resistance  to  Charlemagne ; 
but  this  was  directed,  not  so  much  against  the  religion  he 
brought  with  him,  as  against  oppression  itself.  Their  religion 
had  no  profundity  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  their  ideas  of 
law.  Murder  was  not  regarded  and  punished  as  a  crime  :  it 
was  expiated  by  a  pecuniary  fine.  This  indicates  a  deficiency 
in  depth  of  sentiment — that  absence  of  a  power  of  abstraction 
and  discrimination  that  marks  their  peculiar  temperament 
[Nichteritzweitseyn  des  Gemuthes] — a  temperament  which 
leads  them  to  regard  it  only  as  an  injury  to  the  community 
when  one  of  its  members  is  killed,  and  nothing  further. 
The  blood-revenge  of  the  Arabs  is  based  on  the  feeling  that 
the  honour  of  the  Family  is  injured.  Among  the  Germans 
the  community  had  no  dominion  over  the  individual,  for  the 
element  of  freedom  is  the  first  consideration  in  their  union 
in  a  social  relationship.  The  ancient  Germans  were 
famed  for  their  love  of  freedom ;  the  Romans  formed  a  cor- 
rect" idea  of  them  in  this  particular  from  the  first.  Freedom 
has  been  the  watchword  in  Germany  down  to  the  most  re- 
cent times,  and  even  the  league  of  princes  under  Frederick 
II.  had  its  origin  in  the  love  of  liberty.  This  element  of 
freedom,  in  passing  over  to  a  social  relationship,  can  esta- 
blish only  popular  communities  ;  so  that  these  communities 
constitute  the  whole  state,  and  every  member  of  the  com- 
munity, as  such,  is  a  free  man.  Homicide  could  be  expiated 
by  a  pecuniary  mulct,  because  the  individuality  of  the  frea 


S2CT.  1.  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  CHEISTIAN    GERMAN  WOELD.    367 

man  was  regarded  as  sacred — permanently  and  inviolably,-— 
whatever  be  might  have  done.  The  community  or  its  pre- 
siding power,  with  the  assistance  of  members  of  the  commu- 
nity, delivered  judgment  in  affairs  of  private  right,  with  a 
view  to  the  protection  of  person  and  property.  For  affaira 
affecting  the  body  politic  at  large — for  wars  and  similar 
contingencies — the  whole  community  had  to  be  consulted. 
The  second  point  to  be  observed  is,  that  social  nuclei  were 
formed  by  free  confederation,  and  by  voluntary  attachment 
to  military  leaders  and  princes.  The  connection  in  this  case 
was  that  of  Fidelity  ;  for  Fidelity  is  the  second  watch-word 
of  the  Germans,  as  Freedom  was  the  first.  Individuals  at- 
tach themselves  with  free  choice  to  an  individual,  and  with- 
out external  prompting  make  this  relation  an  inviolable  one, 
This  we  find  neither  among  the  Greeks  nor  the  Eomans. 
The  relation  of  Agamemnon  and  the  princes  who  accompanied 
him  was  not  that  of  feudal  suit  and  service  :  it  was  a  free 
association  merely  for  a  particular  purpose — a  Hegemony. 
But  the  German  confederations  have  their  being  not  in  a 
relation  to  a  mere  external  aim  or  cause,  but  in  a  relation  to 
the  spiritual  self— the  subjective  inmost  personality.  Heart, 
disposition,  the  concrete  subjectivity  in  its  integrity,  which 
does  not  attach  itself  to  any  abstract  bearing  of  an  object, 
but  regards  the  whole  of  it  as  a  condition  of  attachment — 
making  itself  dependent  on  the  person  and  the  cause — renders 
this  relation  a  compound  of  fidelity  to  a  person  and  obedience 
to  a  principle. 

The  union  of  the  two  relations — of  individual  freedom  in 
the  community,  and  of  the  bond  implied  in  association — is 
the  main  point  in  the  formation  of  the  State.  In  this, 
duties  and  rights  are  no  longer  left  to  arbitrary  choice,  but 
are  determined  as  fixed  relations  ;  — involving,  moreover,  the 
condition  that  the  State  be  the  soul  of  the  entire  body,  and 
remain  its  sovereign, — that  from  it  should  be  derived  par- 
ticular aims  and  the  authorization  both  of  political  acts  and 
political  agents, — the  generic  character  and  interests  of  the 
community  constituting  the  permanent  basis  of  the  whole. 
But  here  we  have  the  peculiarity  of  the  German  states,  that 
contrary  to  the  view  thus  presented,  social  relations  do  not 
assume  the  character  of  general  definitions  and  laws,  but  are 
entirely  split  up  into  private  rights  and  private  obligation*. 


368  PABT   IT.      THE    GEBMAN   WORLD. 

They  perhaps  exhibit  a  social  or  communal  mould  or  stamp, 
but  nothing  universal ;  the  laws  are  absolutely  particular, 
and  the  Rights  are  Privileges.  Thus  the  state  was  a  patch- 
work of  private  rights,  and  a  rational  political  life  was  the 
tardy  issue  of  wearisome  struggles  and  convulsions. 

We  have  said,  that  the  Grermans  were  predestined  to  be 
the  bearers  of  the  Christian  principle,  and  to  carry  out  the 
Idea  as  the  absolutely  Rational  aim.  In  the  first  instance  we 
have  only  vague  volition,  in  the  back  ground  of  which  lies 
the  True  and  Infinite.  The  True  is  present  only  as  an  un- 
solved problem,  for  their  Soul  is  not  yet  purified.  A  long 
process  is  required  to  complete  this  purification  so  as  to 
realize  concrete  Spirit.  Religion  comes  forward  with  a  chal- 
lenge to  the  violence  of  the  passions,  and  rouses  them  to  mad- 
ness. The  excess  of  passions  is  aggravated  by  evil  conscience, 
and  heightened  to  an  insane  rage ;  which  perhaps  would  not 
have  been  the  case,  had  that  opposition  been  absent.  We 
behold  the  terrible  spectacle  of  the  most  fearful  extravagance 
of  passion  in  all  the  royal  houses  of  that  period.  Clovis,  the 
founder  of  the  Frank  Monarchy,  is  stained  with  the  blackest 
crimes.  Barbarous  harshness  and  cruelty  characterize  all 
the  succeeding  Merovingians  ;  the  same  spectacle  is  repeated 
in  the  Thuringian  and  other  royal  houses.  The  Christian 
principle  is  certainly  the  problem  implicit  in  their  souls ;  but 
these  are  primarily  still  crude.  The  Will — potentially  true — 
mistakes  itself,  and  separates  itself  from  the  true  and  proper 
aim  by  particular,  limited  aims.  Yet  it  is  in  this  struggle 
with  itself  and  contrariety  to  its  bias,  that  it  realizes  its  wishes ; 
it  contends  against  the  object  which  it  really  desires,  and 
thus  accomplishes  it ;  for  implicitly  ^potentially^  it  is  reconciled. 
The  Spirit  of  G-od  lives  in  the  Church  ;  it  is  the  inward  im- 
pelling Spirit.  But  it  is  in  the  World  that  Spirit  is  to  be 
realized — in  a  material  not  yet  brought  into  harmony  with  it. 
Now  this  material  is  the  Subjective  Will,  which  thus  has  a 
contradiction  in  itself.  On  the  religious  side,  we  often  ob- 
serve a  change  of  this  kind  :  a  man  who  has  all  his  life  been 
fighting  and  hewing  his  way — who  with  all  vehemence  of  cha- 
racter and  passion,  has  struggled  and  revelled  in  secular  occu- 
pations— on  a  sudden  repudiates  it  all,  to  betake  himself  to  reli- 
gious seclusion.  But  in  the  World,  secular  business  cannot  be 
thus  repudiated  j  it  demands  accomplishment,  and  ultimately 


SECT   I.  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  GERMAN  WOBLD.      3G9 

the  discovery  is  made,  that  Spirit  finds  the  goal  of  its  struggle 
and  its  harmonization,  in  that  very  sphere  which  it  made  the 
object  of  its  resistance, — it  finds  that  secular  pursuits  are  a 
spiritual  occupation. 

We  thus  observe,  that  individuals  and  peoples  regard  that 
which  is  their  misfortune,  as  their  greatest  happiness,  and 
conversely,  struggle  against  their  happiness  as  their  greatest 
misery.  La  vtrite,  en  la  repoussant,  on  I'embrasse.  Europe 
comes  to  the  truth  while,  and  to  the  degree  in  which,  she  has 
repulsed  it.  It  is  in  the  agitation  thus  occasioned,  that 
Providence  especially  exercises  its  sovereignty ;  realizing  Its 
absolute  aim — its  honour — as  the  result  of  unhappiness,  gor- 
row,  private  aims  and  the  unconscious  jvill  of  the  nations  of 
the  earth. 

While,  therefore,  in  the  West  this  long  process  in  the 
world's  history — necessary  to  that  purification  by  which 
Spirit  in  the  concrete  is  realized— is  commencing,  the  purifi- 
cation requisite  for  developing  Spirit  in  the  abstract  which 
we  observe  carried  on  contemporaneously  in  the  East,  is 
more  quickly  accomplished.  The  latter  does  not  need  a  long 
process,  and  we  see  it  produced  rapidly,  even  suddenly,  in 
the  first  half  of  the  seventh  century,  in  Mahometanism. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

MAHOMETANISM. 

ON  the  one  hand  we  see  the  European  world  forming  it- 
self anew, — the  nations  taking  firm  root  there,  to  produce  a 
world  of  free  reality  expanded  and  developed  in  every  direc- 
tion. We  behold  them  beginning  their  work  by  bringing 
all  social  relations  under  the  form  of  particularity — with 
dull  and  narrow  intelligence  splitting  that  which  in  its  na- 
ture is  generic  and  normal,  into  a  multitude  of  chance  con- 
tingencies ;  rendering  that  which  ought  to  be  simple  prin- 
ciple and  law,  a  tangled  web  of  convention.  In  short,  while 
the  West  began  to  shelter  itself  in  a  political  edifice  of  chance, 
entanglement  and  particularity,  the  very  opposite  direction 
necessarily  made  its  appearance  in  the  world,  to  produce  the 
balance  of  the  totality  of  spiritual  manifestation.  This  took 

2  B 


270  PABT    IV.      THE    GEBMAN    WOBLD. 

place  in  the  Revolution  of  the  East,  which  destroyed  all  par- 
ticularity and  dependence,  and  perfectly  cleared  up  and 
purified  the  soul  and  disposition ;  making  the  abstract 
One  the  absolute  object  of  attention  and  devotion,  and  to 
the  same  extent,  pure  subjective  consciousness — the  Know- 
ledge of  this  One  alone — the  only  aim  of  reality; — making 
the  Unconditioned  [das  Verhaltnisslose]  the  condition 
[Verhaltuiss]  of  existence. 

"We  have  already  become  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the 
Oriental  principle,  and  setn  that  its  Highest  Being  is  only 
negative  ;• — that  with  it  the  positive  imports  an  abandonment 
to  mere  nature — the  enslavement  of  Spirit  to  the  world  of 
realities.  Only  among  the  Jews  have  we  observed  the  prin- 
ciple of  pure  Unity  elevated  to  a  thought ;  for  only  among 
them  was  adoration  paid  to  the  One,  as  an  object  of  thought. 
This  unity  then  remained,  when  the  purification  of  the 
mind  to  the  conception  of  abstract  Spirit  had  been  accom- 
plished; but  it  was  freed  from  the  particularity  by  which 
the  worship  of  Jehovah  had  been  hampered.  Jehovah  was 
only  the  God  of  that  one  people — the  God  of  Abraham,  of 
Isaac  and  Jacob :  only  with  the  Jews  had  this  God  made  a 
covenant;  only  to  this  people  had  he  revealed  himself.  That 
speciality  of  relation  was  done  away  with  in  Mahometanism. 
In  this  spiritual  universality,  in  this  unlimited  and  indefinite 
purity  and  simplicity  of  conception,  human  personality  has  no 
ether  aim  than  the  realization  of  this  universality  and  sim- 
plicity. Allah  has  not  the  affirmative,  limited  aim  of  the 
Judaic  God.  The  worship  of  the  One  is  the  only  final  aim 
of  Mahometauism,  and  subjectivity  has  this  worship  for  the 
Bole  occupation  of  its  activity,  combined  with  the  design  to 
subjugate  secular  existence  to  the  One.  This  One  has  in- , 
deed,  the  quality  of  Spirit  ;  yet  because  subjectivity  suffers 
itself  to  be  absorbed  in  the  object,  this  One  is  deprived  of 
every  concrete  predicate ;  so  that  neither  does  subjectivity 
become  on  its  part  spiritually  free,  nor  on  the  other  hand  is 
Ihe  object  of  its  veneration  concrete.  But  Mahometanism  is 
not  the  Hindoo,  not  the  Monastic  immersion  in  the  Absolute. 
Subjectivity  is  here  living  and  unlimited — an  energy  which 
enters  into  secular  life  with  a  purely  negative  purpose,  and 
busies  itself  and  interferes  with  the  world,  only  in  such  a 
ray  as  dhall  promote  the  pure  adoration  of  the  One.  Tha 


MAHOMET  AN  IBM.  S71 

object  of  Mahometan  worship  is  purely  intellectual ;  no  image, 
no  representation  of  Allah  is  tolerated.  Mahomet  is  a  prophet 
but  still  man, — not  elevated  above  human  weaknesses.  The 
leading  features  of  Mahometanism  involve  this — that  in  ac- 
tual existence  nothing  can  become  fixed,  but  that  everything 
is  destined  to  expand  itself  in  activity  and  life  in  the  boundless 
amplitude  of  the  world,  so  that  the  worship  of  the  One  remains 
the  only  bond  by  which  the  whole  is  capable  of  uniting.  In 
this  expansion,  this  active  energy,  all  limits,  all  national  and 
caste  distinctions  vanish ;  no  particular  race,  no  political 
claim  of  birth  or  possession  is  regarded — only  man  as  a  be- 
liever. To  adore  the  One,  to  believe  in  him,  to  fast — to 
remove  the  sense  of  speciality  and  consequent  separation  from 
the  Infinite,  arising  from  corporeal  limitation — and  to  give 
alms — that  is,  to  get  rid  of  particular  private  possession, — 
these  are  the  essence  of  Mahometan  injunctions ;  but  the 
highest  merit  is  to  die  for  the  Faith.  He  who  perishes  for 
it  in  battle,  is  sure  of  Paradise. 

The  Mahometan  religion  originated  among  the  Arabs. 
Here  Spirit  exists  in  its  simplest  form,  and  the  sense  of  the 
Formless  has  its  especial  abode  ;  for  in  their  deserts  nothing 
can  be  brought  into  a  firm  consistent  shape.  The  flight 
of  Mahomet  from  Mecca  in  the  year  622  is  the  Moslem  era. 
Even  during  his  life,  and  under  his  own  leadership,  but  espe- 
cially by  following  up  his  designs  after  his  death  under  the 
guidance  of  his  successors,  the  Arabs  achieved  their  vast  con- 
quests. They  first  came  down  upon  Syria  and  conquered  its 
capital  Damascus  in  the  year  634.  They  then  passed  the 
Euphrates  and  Tigris  and  turned  their  arms  against  Persia, 
which  soon  submitted  to  them.  In  the  West  they  conquered 
Egypt,  Northern  Africa  and  Spain,  and  pressed  into  Southern 
France  as  far  as  the  Loire,  where  they  were  defeated  by 
Charles  Martel  near  Tours,  A.D.  732.  Thus  the  dominion 
of  the  Arabs  extended  itself  in  the  West.  In  the  East  they 
reduced  successively  Persia,  as  already  stated,  Samarkand, 
and  the  South-western  part  of  Asia  Minor.  These  con- 
quests, as  also  the  spread  of  their  religion,  took  place  with 
extraordinary  rapidity.  Whoever  became  a  convert  to 
Islam,  gained  a  perfect  equality  of  rights  with  all  Mussulmen. 
Those  who  rejected  it,  were,  during  the  earliest  period, 
slaughtered.  Subsequently,  however,  the  Arabs  behaved 


o72  PART    IV.    THT!    GERMAN*    WORLP. 

more  leniently  to  the  conquered;  so  that  if  they  were  unwil- 
ing  to  go  over  to  Islam,  they  were  only  required  to  pay  au 
annual  poll-tax.  The  towns  that  immediately  submitted, 
were  obliged  to  pay  the  victor  a  tithe  of  all  their  possessions ; 
those  which  had  to  be  captured,  a. fifth. 

Abstraction  swayed  the  minds  of  the  Mahometans. 
Their  object  was,  to  establish  an  abstract  worship,  and  they 
struggled  for  its  accomplishment  with  the  greatest  enthu- 
siasm. This  enthusiasm  was  Fanaticism,  that  is,  an  enthu- 
siasm for  something  abstract — for  an  abstract  thought  which 
sustains  a  negative  position  towards  the  established  order  of 
things.  It  is  the  essence  of  fanaticism  to  bear  only  a  desolating 
destructive  relation  to  the  concrete;  but  that  of  Mahometanism 
was,  at  the  same  time,  capable  of  the  greatest  elevation— an 
elevation  free  from  all  petty  interests,  and  united  with  all 
the  virtues  that  appertain  to  magnanimity  and  valour.  La 
religion  et  la  terreur  was  the  principle  in  this  case,  as  with 
llobespierre,  la  liberte  et  la  terreur.  But  real  life  is  never- 
theless concrete,  and  introduces  particular  aims ;  conquest 
leads  to  sovereignty  and  wealth,  to  the  conferring  of  pre- 
rogatives on  a  dynastic  family,  and  to  a  union  of  individuals. 
But  all  this  is  only  contingent  and  built  on  sand  ;  it  is  to- 
day, and  to-morrow  is  not.  With  all  the  passionate  interest 
he  shews,  the  Mahometan  is  really  indifferent  to  this  social 
fabric,  and  rushes  on  in  the  ceaseless  whirl  of  fortune.  In  its 
spread  Mahometanisin  i'ounded  many  kingdoms  and  dynasties. 
On  this  boundless  sea  there  is  a  continual  onward  movement ; 
nothing  abides  firm.  Whatever  curls  up  into  a  form  remains 
all  the  while  transparent,  and  in  that  very  instant  glides 
away.  Those  dynasties  were  destitute  of  the  bond  of  an 
organic  firmness  :  the  kingdoms,  therefore,  did  nothing  but 
degenerate  ;  the  individuals  that  composed  them  simply  van« 
ished.  Where,  however,  a  noble  soul  makes  itself  prominent 
— like  a  billow  in  the  surging  of  the  sea — it  manifests  it- 
self in  a  majesty  of  freedom,  such  that  nothing  more  noble, 
more  generous,  more  valiant,  more  devoted  was  ever  witnesr 
sed.  The  particular  determinate  object  which  the  individual 
embraces  is  grasped  by  him  entirely — with  the  whole  soul. 
While  Europeans  are  involved  in  a  multitude  of  relations,  and 
form,  so  to  speak,  "  a  bundle"  of  them— in  Mahometanism  the 
ind  vidual  is  one  passion  and  that  alone  ;  he  is  superlatively 
cruel,  cunning,  bold,  or  generous.  ^vrhere  the  sentiment  of 


MAHOA1ETANISM.  373 

love  exists,  tnere  is  an  equal  abandon — love  the  most  fervid. 
The  ruler  who  kn  es  the  slave,  glorifies  the  object  of  his  love 
bv  laying  at  his  feet  all  his  magnificence,  power  and  honour, 
— forgetting  sceptre  and  throne  for  him  ;  but  on  the  other 
hand  he  will  sacrifice  him  just  as  recklessly.  This  reckless 
fervour  shews  itself  also  in  the  glowing  warmth  of  the  Arab 
and  Saracen  poetry.  That  glow  is  the  perfect  freedom  of 
fancy  from  every  fetter, — an  absorption  in  the  life  of  its  object 
and  the  sentiment  it  inspires,  so  that  selfishness  and  egotism 
are  utterly  banished. 

Never  has  enthusiasm,  as  such,  performed  greater  deeds. 
Individuals  may  be  enthusiastic  for  what  is  noble  and  exal- 
ted in  various  particular  forms.  The  enthusiasm  of  a  people 
for  its  independence,  has  also  a  definite  aim.  But  abstract 
and  therefore  all-comprehensive  enthusiasm — restrained  by 
nothing,  finding  its  limits  nowhere,  and  absolutely  indifferent 
to  all  beside — is  that  of  the  Mahometan  East. 

Proportioned  to  the  rapidity  of  the  Arab  conquests,  was 
the  speed  with  which  the  arts  and  sciences  attained  among 
them  their  highest  bloom.  At  first  we  see  the  con- 
querors destroying  everything  connected  with  art  and  science. 
Omar  is  said  to  have  caused  the  destruction  of  the  noble  Alex- 
andrian library.  "  These  books,"  said  he,  "  either  contain 
what  is  in  the  Koran,  or  something  else :  in  either  case  they 
are  superfluous."  But  soon  afterwards  the  Arabs  became 
zealous  in  promoting  the  arts  and  spreading  them  every- 
where. Their  empire  reached  the  summit  of  its  glory  under 
the  Caliphs  Al-Mansor  and  Haroun  Al-Easchid.  Large  cities 
arose  in  all  parts  of  the  empire,  where  commerce  and  manu- 
factures flourished,  splendid  palaces  were  built,  and  schools 
created.  The  learned  men  of  the  empire  assembled  at  the 
Caliph's  court,  which  not  merely  shone  outwardly  with  the 
pomp  of  the  costliest  jewels,  furniture  and  palaces,  but  was 
resplendent  with  the  glory  of  poetry  and  all  the  sciences. 
At  first  the  Caliphs  still  maintained  entire  that  simplicity 
and  plainness  which  characterized  the  Arabs  of  the  desert, 
(the  Caliph  Abubeker  is  particularly  famous  in  this  respect, ) 
and  which  acknowledged  no  distinction  of  station  and  cul- 
ture. The  meanest  Saracen,  the  most  insignificant  old 
woman  approached  the  Caliuh  as  his  equals.  Unr 


374  PJLKT   IT.    THE    OEEMA.N    WOKLB. 

naYvete  does  not  stand  in  need  of  culture ;  and  in  virtue 
of  the  freedom  of  his  Spirit,  each  one  sustains  a  relation  of 
equality  to  the  ruler. 

The  great  empire  of  the  Caliphs  did  not  last  long :  for  on 
the  basis  presented  by  Universality  nothing  is  firm.  The 
great  Arabian  empire  fell  about  the  same  time  as  that  of  the 
Franks :  thrones  were  demolished  by  slaves  and  by  fresh 
invading  hordes — the  Seljuks  and  Mongols — and  new  king- 
doms founded,  new  dynasties  raised  to  the  throne.  The 
Osman  race  at  last  succeeded  in  establishing  a  firm  dominion, 
by  forming  for  themselves  a  firm  centre  in  the  Janizaries. 
Fanaticism  having  cooled  down,  no  moral  principle  remained 
in  men's  souls.  In  the  struggle  with  the  Saracens,  Euro- 
pean valour  had  idealized  itself  to  a  fair  and  noble  chivalry. 
Science  and  knowledge,  especially  that  of  philosophy,  came 
from  the  Arabs  into  the  "West.  A  noble  poetry  and  free 
imagination  was  kindled  among  the  Germans  by  the  East — a 
fact  which  directed  Goethe's  attention  to  the  Orient  and 
occasioned  the  composition  of  a  string  of  lyric  pearls,  in  his 
"  Divan,"  which  in  warmth  and  felicity  of  fancy  cannot  be 
surpassed.  But  the  East  itself,  when  by  degrees  enthusiasm 
had  vanished,  sank  into  the  grossest  vice.  The  most  hideous 
passions  became  dominant,  and  as  sensual  enjoyment  was 
sanctioned  in  the  first  form  which  Mahometan  doctrine  as- 
sumed, and  was  exhibited  as  a  reward  of  the  faithful^  in 
Paradise,  it  took  the  place  of  fanaticism.  At  present,  driven 
back  into  its  Asiatic  and  African  quarters,  and  tolerated  only 
in  one  corner  of  Europe  through  the  jealousy  of  Christian 
Powers,  Islam  has  long  vanished  from  the  stage  of  history 
«t  large,  and  has  retreated  into  Oriental  ease  and  repose. 


CHAPTER  III. 
THE  EMPIRE  OF  CHARLEMAGNE. 

THE  empire  of  the  Franks,  as  already  stated,  was  founded 
by  Clovis.     After  his  death,  it  was  divided  among  Iris  sous. 


EMPIRE    OF    CHARLEMAGNE.  375 

Subsequently,  after  many  struggles  and  the  employment  ot 
treachery,  assassination  and  violence,  it  was  again  united,  and 
once  more  divided.  Internally  the  power  of  the  kings  was  very 
much  increased,  by  their  having  become  princes  in  conquered 
lands.  These  were  indeed  parcelled  out  among  the  Frank 
freemen  ;  but  very  considerable  permanent  revenues  accrued 
to  the  king,  together  with  what  had  belonged  to  the  em- 
perors, and  the  spoils  of  confiscation.  These  therefore  the 
king  bestowed  as  personal,  i  e.  not  heritable,  beneftcia,  on  his 
warriors,  who  in  receiving  them  entered  into  a  personal  ob- 
ligation to  him — became  his  vassals  and  formed  his  feudal 
array.  The  very  opulent  Bishops  were  united  with  them 
in  constituting  the  King's  Council,  which  however  did  not 
circumscribe  the  royal  authority.  At  the  head  of  the  feu- 
dal array  was  the  Major  Domus.  These  Majores  Domus  soon 
assumed  the  entire  power  and  threw  the  royal  authority  into 
the  shade,  while  the  kings  sank  into  a  torpid  condition  and 
became  mere  puppets.  Prom  the  former  spring  the  dynasty 
of  the  Carlovingians.  Pepin  1e  Href,  the  son  of  Charles 
Martel,  was  in  the  year  752  raised  to  the  dignity  of  King  of 
the  Franks.  Pope  Zachary  released  the  Franks  from  thei? 
oath  of  allegiance  to  the  still  living  Childeric  III — the  last 
of  the  Merovingians — who  received  the  tonsure,  i.  e.  became 
a  monk,  and  was  thus  deprived  of  the  royal  distinction  of 
long  hair.  The  last  of  the  Merovingians  were  utter  weak- 
lings, who  contented  themselves  with  the  name  of  royalty, 
and  gave  themselves  up  almost  entirely  to  luxury, — a  phe- 
nomenon that  is  quite  common  in  the  dynasties  of  the  East, 
and  is  also  met  with  again  among  the  last  of  the  Carlovin- 
gians. The  Majores  Domus,  on  the  contrary,  were  in  the 
very  vigour  of  ascendant  fortunes,  and  were  in  such  close 
alliance  \vith  the  feudal  nobility,  that  it  became  easy  for 
them  ultimately  to  secure  the  throne. 

The  Popes  were  most  severely  pressed  by  the  Lombard 
kings  and  sought  protection  from  the  Franks.  Out  of  grati- 
tude Pepin  undertook  to  defend  Stephen  II.  He  led  an  army 
twice  across  the  Alps,  and  twice  defeated  the  Lombards. 
His  victories  gave  splendour  to  his  newly  established  throne, 
and  entailed  a  considerable  heritage  on  the  Chair  of  St. 
Peter.  In  A.  D.  800  the  sou  of  Pepin — Charlemagne — waa 


376  TART  IV.  THE  GERMAN  WORLD. 

crowned  Emperor  by  the  Pope,  and  hence  originated  the  firm 
union  of  the  Carlovingians  with  the  Papal  See.  For  the 
Roman  Empire  continued  to  enjoy  among  the  barbarians 
the  prestige  of  a  great  power,  and  was  ever  regarded  by  them 
as  the  centre  from  which  civil  dignities,  religion,  laws  and 
all  branches  of  knowledge — beginning  with  written  charac- 
ters themselves — flowed  to  them.  Charles  Martel,  after  he 
had  delivered  Europe  from  Saracen  domination,  was — him- 
self and  his  successors — dignified  with  the  title  of  "  Patrician'' 
by  the  people  and  senate  of  Borne ;  but  Charlemagne  was 
crowned  Emperor,  and  that  by  the  Pope  himself. 

There  were  now,  therefore,  two  Empires,  and  in  them  the 
Christian  confession  was  gradually  divided  into  two  Churches, 
the  Greek  and  the  Roman.  The  Roman  Emperor  was  the 
born  defender  of  the  Roman  Church,  and  this  position  of  the 
Emperor  towards  the  Pope  seemed  to  declare  that  the 
Frank  sovereignty  was  only  a  continuation  of  the  Roman 
Empire. 

The  Empire  of  Charlemagne  had  a  very  considerable  ex- 
tent. Franconia  Proper  stretched  from  the  Rhine  to  the 
Loire.  Aquitania,  south  of  the  Loire,  was  in  708 — the  year 
of  Pepin's  death — entirely  subjugated.  The  Frank  Empire 
also  included  Burgundy,  Alemannia  (southern  Germany 
between  the  Lech,  the  Maine  and  the  Rhine),  Thuringia, 
which  extended  to  the  Saale,  and  Bavaria.  Charlemagne 
likewise  conquered  the  Saxons,  who  dwelt  between  the 
Rhine  and  the  Weser,  and  put  an  end  to  the  Lombard  do- 
minion, so  that  he  became  master  of  Upper  and  Central 
Italy. 

This  great  empire  Charlemagne  formed  into  a  systemati- 
cally organized  State,  and  gave  the  Frank  dominion  settled 
institutions  adapted  to  impart  to  it  strength  and  consistency. 
This  must  however  not  be  understood,  as  if  he  first  intro- 
duced the  Constitution  of  his  empire  in  its  whole  extent,  but 
as  implying  that  institutions  partly  already  in  existence,  were 
developed  under  his  guidance,  and  attained  a  more  decided 
and  unobstructed  efficiency.  The  King  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  officers  crtho  empire,  and  the  principle  of  hereditary  mon- 
archy was  already  recognized.  The  King  was  likewise  mas- 
ter of  the  armed'force,  as  alao  the  krgest  lauded  proprietor, 


EMPIRE    OF   CHARLEMAGNE.  377 

wliile  the  supreme  judicial  power  was  equally  in  bis  hands. 
The  military  constitution  was  based  on  the  "  Arrier-ban." 
,Every  freeman  was  bound  to  arm  for  the  defence  of  the 
realm,  and  had  to  provide  for  his  support  in  the  field  for  a 
certain  time.  This  militia  (as  it  would  now  be  called)  was  under 
the  command  of  Counts  and  Margraves,  which  latter  pre- 
sided over  large  districts  on  the  borders  of  the  empire, 
— the  "  Marches."  According  to  the  general  partition  of  the 
country,  it  was  divided  into  provinces  [or  counties]  over  each 
of  which  a  Count  presided.  Over  them  again,  under  the 
ater  Carlovingians,  were  Dukes,  whose  seats  were  large 
cities,  such  as  Cologne,  Eatisbon,  and  the  like.  Their  office 
gave  occasion  to  the  division  of  the  country  into  Duchies : 
thus  there  was  a  Duchy  of  Alsatia,  Lorraine,  Erisia, 
Thuringia,  Rh^tia.  These  Dukes  were  appointed  by  the 
Emperor.  Peoples  that  had  retained  their  hereditary 
princes  after  their  subjugation,  lost  this  privilege  and  re- 
ceived Dukes,  when  they  revolted ;  this  was  the  case  with 
Alemannia,  Thuringia,  Bavaria,  and  Saxony.  But  there  wraa 
also  a  kind  of  standing  army  for  readier  use.  The  vassals  oi 
the  emperor,  namely,  had  the  enjoyment  of  estates  on  the  con- 
dition of  performing  military  service,  whenever  commanded. 
And  with  a  view  to  maintain  these  arrangements,  commis- 
sioners (Missi)  were  sent  out  by  the  emperor,  to  observe  and 
report  concerning  the  affairs  of  the  Empire,  and  to  inquire 
into  the  state  of  judicial  administration  and  inspect  the 
royal  estates. 

Not  less  remarkable  is  the  management  of  the  revenues  of 
the  state.  There  were  no  direct  taxes,  and  few  tolls  on  rivers 
and  roads,  of  which  several  were  farmed  out  to  the  higher 
officers  of  the  empire.  Into  the  treasury  flowed  on  the  one 
hand  judicial  fines,  on  the  other  hand  the  pecuniary  satis- 
factions made  for  not  serving  in  the  army  at  the  emperor's 
summons.  Those  who  enjoyed  beneficia,  lost  them  on  neg- 
lecting this  duty.  The  chief  revenue  was  derived  from  the 
crown-lands,  of  which  the  emperor  had  a  great  number, 
on  which  royal  palaces  [Pfalzen]  were  erected.  It  had  been 
long  the  custom  for  the  kings  to  make  progresses  through 
the  chief  provinces,  and  to  remain  for  a  time  in  each  palati- 
nate j  the  due  preparations  for  the  maintenance  of  the 


378  PART  IV.    THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

court  having  been  already  made  by  Marshals,  Chamberlains, 
&c. 

As  regards  the  administration  of  justice,  criminal  cause? 
and  those  which  concern  real  property  were  tried  before  the 
communal  assemblies  under  the  presidency  of  a  Count. 
Those  of  less  importance  were  decided  by  at  least  seven  fres 
men — an  elective  bench  of  magistrates — under  the  presidency 
of  the  Centgraves.  The  supreme  jurisdiction  belonged  to  the 
royal  tribunals,  over  which  the  king  presided  in  his  palace  : 
to  these  the  feudatories,  spiritual  and  temporal,  were  ame- 
nable. The  royal  commissioners  mentioned  above  gave  es- 
pecial attention  in  their  inquisitorial  visits  to  the  judicial 
administration,  heard  all  complaints,  and  punished  injustice. 
A  spiritual  and  a  temporal  envoy  had  to  go  their  circuit 
four  times  a  year. 

In  Charlemagne's  time  the  ecclesiastical  body  had  already 
acquired  great  weight.  The  bishops  presided  over  great 
cathedral  establishments,  with  which  were  also  connected 
seminaries  and  scholastic  institutions.  For  Charlemagne 
endeavoured  to  restore  science,  then  almost  extinct,  by  pro- 
moting the  foundation  of  schools  in  towns  and  villages. 
Pious  souls  believed  that  they  were  doing  a  good  work  and 
earning  salvation  by  making  presents  to  the  church  ;  in  this 
way  the  most  savage  and  barbarous  monarchs  sought  to  atone 
for  their  crimes.  Private  persons  most  commonly  made 
their  offerings  in  the  form  of  a  bequest  of  their  entire  estate 
to  religious  houses,  stipulating  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  usu- 
fruct only  for  life  or  for  a  specified  time.  But  it  often  hap- 
pened that  on  the  death  of  a  bishop  or  abbot,  the  temporal 
magnates  and  their  retainers  invaded  the  possessions  of  the 
clergy,  and  fed  and  feasted  there  till  all  was  consumed  ;  for 
religion  had  not  yet  such  an  authority  over  men's  minds  as  to 
be  able  to  bridle  the  rapacity  of  the  powerful.  The  clergy 
were  obliged  to  appoint  stewards  and  bailiffs  to  manugo 
their  estates  ;  besides  this,  guardians  had  charge  of  all  their 
secular  concerns,  led  their  men  at  arms  into  the  field,  and 
gradually  obtained  from  the  king  territorial  jurisdiction, 
when  the  ecclesiastics  had  secured  the  privilege  of  beii.-g 
amenable  only  to  their  own  tribunals,  and  enjoyed  immunity 
from  the  authority  of  the  royal  officers  of  justice  (the  Counts). 


EMPIRE   OF    CHARLEMAGKE.  879 

This  involved  an  important  step  in  the  change  of  political 
relations,  inasmuch  as  the  ecclesiastical  domains  assumed 
more  and  more  the  aspect  of  independent  provinces  enjoying 
a  freedom  surpassing  any  thing  to  which  those  of  secular 
princes  had  yet  made  pretensions.  Moreover  the  clergy 
contrived  subsequently  to  free  themselves  from  the  burdens 
of  the  state,  and  opened  the  churches  and  monasteries  as 
asylums,— that  is,  inviolable  sanctuaries  for  all  offenders. 
This  institution  was  on  the  one  hand  very  beneficial  as  a 
protection  in  cases  of  violence  and  oppression ;  but  it  was 
perverted  on  the  other  hand  into  a  means  of  impunity  for 
the  grossest  crimes.  In  Charlemagne's  time,  the  law  could 
still  demand  from  conventual  authorities  the  surrender  of 
offenders.  The  bishops  were  tried  by  a  judicial  bench  con- 
sisting of  bishops  ;  as  vassals  they  were  properly  subject  to 
the  royal  tribunal.  Afterwards  the  monastic  establishments 
sought  to  free  themselves  from  episcopal  jurisdiction  also : 
and  thus  they  made  themselves  independent  even  of  the 
church.  The  bishops  were  chosen  by  the  clergy  and  the  re- 
ligious communities  at  large  ;  but  as  they  were  abo  vassals  of 
the  sovereign,  their  feudal  dignity  had  to  be  conferred  by 
him.  The  contingency  of  a  contest  was  avoided  by  the  obli- 
gation to  choose  a  person  approved  of  by  the  king. 

The  imperial  tribunals  were  held  in  the  palace  where  the 
emperor  resided.     The  sovereign  himself  presided  in  them, 
and  the  magnates  of  the  imperial  court  constituted  with  him. 
the  supreme  judicial  body.     The  deliberations  of  the  impe- 
rial council  on  the  affairs  of  the  empire  did  not  take  place  at 
appointed  times,  but  as  occasions  offered — at  military  reviews 
in  the  spring,  at  ecclesiastical  councils  and  on  court-days.  It 
was  especially  these  court-days,  to  which  the  feudal  nobles 
were  invited, — when  the  king  held  his  court  in  a  particular 
province,  generally  on  the  Rhine,  the  centre  of  the  Frank 
empire, — that  gave  occasion  to  the  deliberations  in  question. 
Custom  required  the  sovereign  to  assemble  twice  a  year  a 
eelect  body  of  the  higher  temporal  and  ecclesiastical  func- 
tionaries, but  here  also  the  king  Lad  decisive  power.     These 
conventions  are  therefore  of  a  different  character  from  the 
Imperial  Diets  of  later  times,  in  which  the  nobles  assume  a 
more  independent  position. 


380  PABT   IT.    THE    GERMAN    WOBLD. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  Frank  Empire, — that  first  con- 
solidation  of  Christianity  into  a  political  form  proceeding 
from  itself,  the  Roman  empire  having  been  swallowed 
up  by  Christianity.  The  constitution  just  described  looks 
excellent ;  it  introduced  a  firm  military  organization  and 
provided  for  the  administration  of  justice  within  the  empire. 
Yet  after  Charlemagne's  death  it  proved  itself  utterly  power- 
less,— externally  defenceless  against  the  invasions  of  the  Nor- 
mans, Hungarians,  and  Arabs,  and  internally  inefficient  in 
resisting  lawlessness,  spoliation,  and  oppression  of  every  kind. 
Thus  we  see,  side  by  side  with  an  excellent  constitution,  the 
most  deplorable  condition  of  things,  and  therefore  confusion 
in  all  directions.  Such  political  edifices  need,  for  the  very 
reason  that  they  originate  suddenly,  the  additional  strength- 
ening afforded  by  negativity  evolved  within  themselves :  they 
need  reactions  in  every  form,  such  as  manifest  themselves  in 
the  following  period. 


SECTION  II. 

THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 

WHILE  the  first  period  of  the  German  "World  ends  bril- 
liantly with  a  mighty  empire,  the  second  is  commenced  by 
the  reaction  resulting  from  the  antithesis  occasioned  by  that 
infinite  falsehood  which  rules  the  destinies  of  the  Middle  Ages 
and  constitutes  their  life  and  spirit.  This  reaction  is  first, 
that  of  the  particular  nationalities  against  the  universal  so- 
vereignty of  the  Frank  empire, — manifesting  itself  in  the 
splitting  up  of  that  great  empire.  The  second  reaction  is  that 
of  individuals  against  legal  authority  and  the  executive  power, 
— against  subordination,  and  the  military  and  judicial  ar- 
rangements of  the  constitution.  This  produced  the  isolation 
and  therefore  defencelessness  of  individuals.  The  universality 
of  the  power  of  the  state  disappeared  through  this  reaction : 
individuals  sought  protection  with  the  powerful,  and  the 
latter  became  oppressors.  Thus  was  gradually  introduced  a 
condition  of  universal  dependence,  and  this  protecting  re* 


SECT.    II.    THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  381 

lation  is  then  systematized  into  the  Feudal  System.  The 
third  reaction  is  that  of  the  church — the  reaction  of  the 
spiritual  element  against  the  existing  order  of  things.  Se- 
cular extravagances  of  passion  were  repressed  and  kept  in 
check  by  the  Church,  but  the  latter  was  itself  secularized  in 
the  process,  and  abandoned  its  proper  position.  Prom  that 
moment  begins  the  introversion  of  the  secular  principle. 
These  relations  and  reactions  all  go  to  constitute  the  history 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  culminating  point  of  this  period 
is  the  Crusades ;  for  with  them  arises  a  universal  instability, 
but  one  through  which  the  states  of  Christendom  first  attaip 
jiternal  and  external  independence. 


CHAPTEE  I. 
THE  FEUDALITY  AND  THE  HIERARCHY. 

THE  First  Reaction  is  that  of  particular  nationality 
against  the  universal  sovereignty  of  the  Franks.  It  appears 
indeed,  at  first  sight,  as  if  the  Frank  empire  was  divided  by 
the  mere  choice  of  its  sovereigns ;  but  another  consideration 
deserves  attention,  viz.  that  this  division  was  popular,  and 
was  accordingly  maintained  by  the  peoples.  It  was,  there- 
fore, not  a  mere  dynastic  act, — which  might  appear  unwise, 
since  the  princes  thereby  weakened  their  own  power, — but 
a  restoration  of  those  distinct  nationalities  which  had  been 
held  together  by  a  connecting  bond  of  irresistible  might  and 
the  genius  of  a  great  man.  Louis  the  Pious  \le  Debonnaire,~\ 
son  of  Charlemagne,  divided  the  empire  among  his  three  sons. 
But  subsequently,  by  a  second  marriage,  another  son  was 
oorn  to  him — Charles  the  Bald.  As  he  wished  to  give  him 
also  an  inheritance,  wars  and  contentions  arose  between  Louis 
and  his  other  sons,  whose  already  received  portion  would 
have  to  be  diminished  by  such  an  arrangement.  In  the  first 
instance,  therefore,  a  private  interest  was  involved  in  the  con- 
test ;  but  that  oi'the  nations  which  composed  the  empire  made 
the  issue  not  indifferent  to  them.  The  western  Franks  had 


882  PART  IV.   THE   GERMAN   WORLD. 

already  identified  themselves  with  the  Gauls,  and  with  them 
originated  a  reaction  against  the  German  Franks,  as  also  at 
a  later  epoch  one  on  the  part  of  Italy  against  the  Germans. 
By  the  treaty  of  Verdun,  A.  D.  843,  a  division  of  the  empire 
among  Charlemagne's  descendants  took  place;  the  whole 
Frank  empire,  some  provinces  excepted,  was  for  a  moment 
again  united  under  Charles  the  Gross.  It  was,  however, 
only  for  a  short  time  that  this  weak  prince  was  able  to  hold 
the  vast  empire  together ;  it  was  broken  up  into  many 
smaller  sovereignties,  which  developed  and  maintained  an  in- 
dependent position.  These  were  the  Kingdom  of  Italy, 
which  was  itself  divided,  the  two  Burgundian  sovereignties — 
Upper  Burgundy,  of  which  the  chief  centres  were  Geneva 
and  the  convent  of  St.  Maurice  in  Valaise,  and  Lower  Bur- 
gundy between  the  Jura,  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Rhone, 
— Lorraine,  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Meuse,  Normandy, 
and  Brittany.  France  Proper  was  shut  in  between  these 
sovereignties  ;  and  thus  limited  did  Hugh  Capet  find  it  when 
he  ascended  the  throne.  Eastern  Franconia,  Saxony,  Thu- 
ringia,  Bavaria,  Swabia,  remained  parts  of  the  German  Em-* 
pire.  Thus  did  the  unity  of  the  Frank  monarchy  fall  to 
pieces.  The  internal  arrangements  of  the  Frank  empire  also 
suffered  a  gradual  but  total  decay  ;  and  the  first  to  disap- 
pear was  the  military  organization.  Soon  after  Charlemagne 
we  see  the  Norsemen  from  various  quarters  making  inroads 
into  England,  France  and  Germany.  In  England  seven 
dynasties  of  Anglo-Saxon  Kings  were  originally  established, 
but  in  the  year  827  Egbert  united  these  sovereignties  into 
a  single  kingdom.  In  the  reign  of  his  successor  the  Danes 
made  very  frequent  invasions  and  pillaged  the  country.  In 
Alfred  the  Great's  time  they  met  with  vigorous  resistance,  but 
subsequently  the  Danish  King  Canute  conquered  all  England. 
The  iuroads  of  the  Normans  into  France  were  contempora- 
neous with  these  events.  They  sailed  up  the  Seine  and  the 
Loire  in  light  boats,  plundered  the  towns,  pillaged  the  con- 
vents, and  went  off  with  their  booty.  They  beleaguered  Paris 
itself,  and  the  Carlovingian  Kings  were  reduced  to  the  base 
necessity  of  purchasing  a  peace.  In  the  same  way  they  de- 
vastated the  towns  lying  on  the  Elbe  ;  and  from  the  Rhine 
plundered  Aix-la-Chapeile  and  Cologne,  and  made  Lorraine 


SECT.  II.  THE  MIDDLE  iGES.  383 

fcriotitary  to  them.  The  Diet  of  Worms,  in  882,  did  indeed 
issue  a  general  proclamation,  summoning  all  subjects  to  rise 
in  arms,  but  they  were  compelled  to  put  up  with  a  disgraceful 
composition.  These  storms  came  from  the  north  and  the 
west.  The  Eastern  side  of  the  empire  suffered  from  the 
inroads  of  the  Magyars.  These  barbarian  peoples  traversed 
the  country  in  waggons,  and  laid  waste  the  whole  of  Southern 
Germany.  Through  Bavaria,  Swabia,  and  Switzerland  they 
penetrated  into  the  interior  of  Prance  and  reached  Italy.  The 
Saracens  pressed  forward  from  the  South.  Sicily  had  been 
long  in  their  hands :  they  thence  obtained  a  firm  footing 
in  Italy,  menaced  Rome, — which  diverted  their  attack  by  a 
composition, — and  were  the  terror  of  Piedmont  and  Pro- 
vence. 

Thus  these  three  peoples  invaded  the  empire  from  all  sides 
in  great  masses,  and  in  their  desolating  marches  almost  came 
into  contact  with  each  other.  France  was  devastated  by  the 
Normans  as  far  as  the  Jura ;  the  Hungarians  reached  Swit- 
zerland, and  the  Saracens  Valaise.  Calling  to  mind  that 
organization  of  the  "  Arrier-ban,"  and  considering  it  in 
juxta-position  with  this  miserable  state  of  things,  we  cannot 
fail  to  be  struck  with  the  inefficiency  of  all  those  far-famed 
institutions,  which  at  such  a  juncture  ou-|ht  to  have  shewn 
themselves  most  effective.  We  might  be  inclined  to  regard 
the  picture  of  the  noble  and  rational  constitution  of  the 
Frank  monarchy  under  Charlemagne, — exhibiting  itself  aa 
strong,  comprehensive,  and  well  ordered,  internally  and  ex- 
ternally,— as  a  baseless  figment.  Yet  it  actually  existed  ; 
the  entire  political  system  being  held  together  only  by  the 
power,  the  greatness,  the  regal  soul  of  this  one  man, — not 
based  01:  the  spirit  of  the  people, — not  having  become  a  vital 
element  in  it.  It  was  superficially  induced — an  a  priori 
constitution  like  that  which  Napoleon  gave  to  Spain,  and 
which  disappeared  with  the  physical  power  that  sustained 
it.  That,  on  the  contrary,  which  renders  a  constitution  real, 
is  that  it  exists  as  Objective  Freedom — the  Substantial  form 
of  volition — as  duty  and  obligation  acknowledged  by  the 
subjects  themselves.  But  obligation  was  not  yet  recognized 
bv  the  Grcrman  Spirit,  which  hitherto  shewed  itself  only  as 
"'Heart"  and  subjective  cLoice  j  for  it  there  was  as  yet  no 


384  PART    IT.    THE    GEKMAlf   VORLl*. 

subjectivity  involving  unity,  but  only  a  subjectivity  condi- 
tioned by  a  careless  superficial  self-seeking.  Thus  that  con- 
stitution was  destitute  of  any  firm  bond  ;  it  had  no  objective 
support  in  subjectivity ;  for  in  fact  no  constitution  was  as 
yet  possible. 

This  leads  us  to  the  Second  Reaction—  that  of  individuals 
against  the  authority  of  law.  The  capacity  of  appreciating  legal 
order  and  the  common  weal  is  altogether  absent,  has  no  vital 
existence  in  the  peoples  themselves.  The  duties  of  every  free 
citizen,  the  authority  of  the  judge  to  give  judicial  decisions, 
that  of  the  count  of  a  province  to  hold  his  court,  and  interest 
in  the  laws  as  such,  are  no  longer  regarded  as  valid  now  that 
the  strong  hand  from  above  ceases  to  hold  the  reins  of  sove- 
reignty. The  brilliant  administration  of  Charlemagne  had  van- 
ished without  leaving  a  trace,  and  the  immediate  consequence 
was  the  general  defencelessness  of  individuals.  The  need  of 
protection  is  sure  to  be  felt  in  some  degree  in  every  well-orga- 
nized state  :  each  citizen  knows  his  rights  and  also  knows  that 
for  the  security  of  possession  the  social  state  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. Barbarians  have  not  yet  attained  this  sense  of  need 
—  the  want  of  protection  from  others.  They  look  upon  it  as  a 
limitation  of  their  freedom  if  their  rights  must  be  guaranteed 
them  by  others.  Thus,  therefore,  the  impulse  towards  a  firm 
organization  did  not  exist :  men  must  first  be  placed  in  a 
defenceless  condition,  before  they  were  sensible  of  the  neces- 
sity of  the  organization  of  a  State.  The  political  edifice  had 
to  be  reconstructed  from  the  very  foundations.  The  com- 
monwealth as  then  organized  had  no  vitality  or  firmness  at 
all  either  in  itself  or  in  the  minds  of  the  people  ;  and  its 
weakness  manifested  itself  in  the  fact  that  it  was  unable  to 
give  protection  to  its  individual  members.  As  observed 
above,  the  idea  of  duty  was  not  present  in  the  Spirit  of  the 
Germans  ;  it  had  to  be  restored.  In  the  first  instance  volition 
could  only  be  arrested  in  its  wayward  career  in  reference  to 
the  merely  external  point  of  possession  ;  and  to  make  it  feel 
the  importance  of  the  protection  of  the  State,  it  had  to  be  vio- 
lently dislodged  from  its  obtuseness  and  impelled  by  necessity 
to  seeK  union  and  a  social  condition.  Individuals  were 
therefore  obliged  to  consult  for  themselves  by  taking  re- 
fuge with  Individuals,  and  submitted  to  the  authority  of  cer- 


SLOT.    II.    THE    MIDDLE   AGES.  385 

tnir,  powerful  persons,  who  constituted  a  private  possession 
and  personal  sovereignty  out  of  that  authority  which  for- 
merly belonged  to  the  Commonwealth.  As  officers  of  the 
State,  the  counts  did  not  meet  with  obedience  from  those 
committed  to  their  charge,  and  they  were  as  little  desirous  of 
it.  Only  for  themselves  did  they  covet  it.  They  assumed  to 
themselves  the  power  of  the  State,  and  made  the  authority 
with  which  they  had  been  entrusted  as  a  beneficium,  an  he- 
ritable possession.  As  in  earlier  times  the  King  or  other 
magnates  conferred  fiefs  on  their  vassals  by  way  of  rewards, 
now,  conversely,  the  weaker  and  poorer  surrendered  their 
possessions  to  the  strong,  for  the  sake  of  gaining  efficient 
protection.  They  committed  their  estates  to  a  Lord,  a  Con- 
vent, an  Abbot,  a  Bishop  (feudum  ollatum),  and  received 
them  buck,  encumbered  with  feudal  obligations  to  these  su- 
periors. Instead  of  freemen  they  became  vassals — feudal 
dependants — and  their  possession  a  leneficium.  This  is  tlie 
constitution  of  the  Feudal  System.  "  Feudum"  is  connected 
with  "Jides"  ;  the  fidelity  implied  in  this  case  is  a  bond  es- 
tablished on  unjust  principles,  a  relation  that  does  indeed  con- 
tern  ">iate  a  legitimate  object,  but  whose  import  is  not  a  whit  the 
1-ess  ^justice  ;  for  the  fidelity  of  vassals  is  not  an  obligation 
to  t,,e  Commonwealth,  but  a  private  one — ipso facto  therefore 
subject  to  the  sway  of  chance,  caprice,  and  violence.  Univer- 
sal injustice,  universal  lawlessness  is  reduced  to  a  system  of 
dependence  on  and  obligation  to  individuals,  so  that  the 
mere  formal  side  of  the  matter,  the  mere  fact  of  compact  con- 
stitutes its  sole  connection  with  the  principle  of  Bight  — 
Since  every  man  had  to  protect  himself,  the  martial  spirit, 
which  in  point  of  external  defence  seemed  to  have  most 
ignominiously  vanished,  was  re-awakened  ;  for  torpidity 
\vas  roused  to  action  partly  by  extreme  ill-usage,  partly 
by  the  greed  and  ambition  of  individuals.  The  valour  that 
now  manifested  itself,  was  displayed  not  on  behalf  of  the 
State,  but  of  private  interests.  In  every  district  arose  cas- 
tles ;  fortresses  were  erected,  and  that  for  the  defence  of 
private  property,  and  with  a  view  to  plunder  and  tyranny, 
in  the  way  just  mentioned,  the  political  totality  was 
ignored  at  those  points  where  individual  authority  was  es- 
tablished, among  whic/'  the  seats  of  bishops  and  arch* 

2  c 


3b6  PABT  IV.    THE    GERMAN   WOELD. 

bishops  deserve  especial  mention.  The  bishoprics  had  been 
freed  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  judicial  tribunals,  and  frorr, 
the  operations  of  the  executive  generally.  The  bishops  had 
stewards  on  whom  at  their  request  the  Emperors  conferred 
the  jurisdiction  which  the  Counts  had  formerly  exercised. 
Thus  there  were  detached  ecclesiastical  domains — ecclesias- 
tical districts  which  belonged  to  a  saint  (Germ.Weichbilder). 
Similar  suzerainties  of  a  secular  kind  were  subsequently  con- 
stituted. Both  occupied  the  position  of  the  previous  Pro- 
vinces [Gaue]or  Counties  [Grafschaften.]  Only  in  a  few  towns 
where  communities  of  freemen  were  independently  strong 
enough  to  secure  protection  and  safety,  did  relics  of  the  an- 
cient free  constitution  remain.  "With  these  exceptions  the 
free  communities  entirely  disappeared,  and  became  subject  to 
the  prelates  or  to  the  Counts  and  Dukes,  thenceforth  known 
as  seigneurs  and  princes.  The  imperial  power  was  extolled 
in  general  terms,  as  something  very  great  and  exalted : 
the  Emperor  passed  for  the  secular  head  of  entire  Chris- 
tendom :  but  the  more  exalted  the  ideal  dignity  of  the 
emperors,  the  more  limited  was  it  in  reality.  France  derived 
extraordinary  advantage  from  the  fact  that  it  entirely  repu- 
diated  this  baseless  assumption,  while  in  Germany  the  ad- 
vance of  political  development  was  hindered  by  that  pretence 
of  power.  The  kings  and  emperors  were  no  longer  chiefs  of 
the  state,  but  of  the  prince s,  who  were  indeed  their  vassals, 
but  possessed  sovereignty  and  territorial  lordships  of  their 
own.  The  whole  social  condition  therefore,  being  founded  on 
individual  sovereignty,  it  might  be  supposed  that  the  advance 
to  a  State  would  be  possible  only  through  the  return  of  those 
individual  sovereignties  to  an  official  relationship.  But  to 
accomplish  this,  a  superior  power  would  have  been  required, 
such  as  was  not  in  existence  ;  for  the  feudal  lords  them- 
selves determined  how  far  they  were  still  dependent  on  the 
general  constitution  of  the  state.  No  authority  of  Law  and 
Bight  is  valid  any  Ion  go r  ;  nothing  but  chance  power, — the 
crude  caprice  of  particular  as  opposed  to  universally  valid 
Eight;  and  this  struggles  against  equality  of  Eights  and  Laws. 
Inequality  of  political  privileges — the  allotment  being  the 
work  of  the  purest  hap-hazard — is  the  predominant  feature. 
it  is  impossible  that  a  Monarchy  can  arise  from  such  a  social 


SECT.    II.      THE    M1UDLE   AttES.  887 

condition  through  the  subjugation  of  the  several  minor 
powers  under  the  Chief  of  the  State,  as  such.  Reversely, 
the  former  were  gradually  transformed  into  Principalities, 
[Fiirstenthumer,]  and  became  united  with  the  Principality 
of  the  Chief;  thus  enabling  the  authority  of  the  king  and 
of  the  state  to  assert  itself.  While,  therefore,  the  bond  of 
political  unity  was  still  wanting,  the  several  seigneuries 
attained  their  development  independently. 

In  France  the  dynasty  of  Charlemagne,  like  that  of  Clovia, 
became  extinct  through  the  weakness  of  the  sovereigns  who 
represented  it.  Their  dominion  was  finally  limited  to  the 
petty  sovereignty  of  Laon ;  and  the  last  of  the  Carlo vingians, 
Duke  Charies  of  Lorraine,  who  laid  claim  to  the  crown  after 
the  death  of  Louis  V.,  was  defeated  and  taken  prisoner. 
The  powerful  Hugh  Capet,  Duke  of  France,  was  proclaimed 
king.  The  title  of  King,  however,  gave  him  no  real  power ; 
his  authority  was  based  on  his  territorial  possessions  alone. 
At  a  later  date,  through  purchase,  marriage,  and  the  dying 
out  of  families,  the  kings  became  possessed  of  many  feudal 
domains ;  and  their  authority  was  frequently  invoked  as  a 
protection  against  the  oppressions  of  the  nobles.  The  royal 
authority  in  France  became  heritable  at  an  early  date,  be- 
cause the  fiefs  were  heritable ;  though  at  first  the  kings  took 
the  precaution  to  have  their  sons  crowned  during  their  life- 
time. France  was  divided  into  many  sovereignties:  the 
Duchy  of  Guienne,  the  Earldom  of  Flanders,  the  Duchy  of 
Gascony,  the  Earldom  of  Toulouse,  the  Duchy  of  Burgundy, 
the  Earldom  of  Vermandois  ;  Lorraine  too  had  belonged  to 
France  for  some  time.  Normandy  had  been  ceded  to  the 
Normans  by  the  kings  of  France,  in  order  to  secure  a  tem- 
porary repose  from  their  incursions.  From  Normandy  Duke 
William  passed  over  into  England  and  conquered  it  in  the 
year  1066.  Here  he  introduced  a  fully  developed  feudal 
constitution, — a  network  which,  to  a  great  extent,  encom- 
passes England  even  at  the  present  day.  And  thus  the 
Dukes  of  Normandy  confronted  the  comparatively  feeble 
Kings  of  France  with  a  power  of  no  inconsiderable  preten- 
sions.—  Germany  was  composed  of  the  great  duchies  of  Sax- 
ony, Swabia,  Bavaria,  Carinthia,  Lorraine  and  Burgundy,  the 
Margraviate  of  Thuringia,  <fcc.  with  several  bishoprics  and 


888  PA.ET    IT.       THE    ULKMAN 

archbishoprics.  Each  of  those  duchies  again  was  divided 
into  several  fiefs,  enjoying  more  or  less  independence.  The 
emperor  seems  often  to  have  united  several  duchies  under 
his  immediate  sovereignty.  The  Emperor  Henry  111.  was, 
when  he  ascended  the  throne,  lord  of  many  large  dukedoms  ; 
but  he  weakened  his  own  power  by  enfeoffing  them  to 
others.  Germany  was  radically  a  free  nation,  and  had  not, 
as  France  had,  any  dominant  family  as  a  central  authority  ;  it 
continued  an  elective  empire.  Its  princes  refused  to  sur- 
render the  privilege  of  choosing  their  sovereign  for  them- 
selves ;  and  at  every  new  election  they  introduced  new  re- 
strictive conditions,  so  that  the  imperial  power  was  degraded 
to  an  empty  shadow.— In  Italy  we  find  the  same  political 
condition.  The  German  Emperors  had  pretensions  to  it : 
but  their  authority  was  valid  only  so  far  as  they  could  sup- 
port it  by  direct  force  of  arms,  and  as  the  Italian  cities  and 
nobles  deemed  their  own  advantage  to  be  promoted  by  sub- 
'mission.  Italy  was,  like  German)',  divided  into  many  larger 
and  smaller  dukedoms,  earldoms,  bishoprics  and  seigneuries. 
The  Pope  had  very  little  power,  either  in  the  North  or  in 
the  South  ;  which  latter  was  long  divided  between  the 
Lombards  and  the  Greeks,  until  both  were  overcome  by  the 
Normans. —  Spain  maintained  a  contest  with  the  Saracens, 
cither  defensive  or  victorious,  through  the  whole  mediaeval 
period,  till  the  latter  finally  succumbed  to  the  more  matured 
power  of  Chr  stiiin  civilization. 

Thus  all  Rig'  t  vanished  before  individual  Might;  f  r 
cqiiil.ty  of  Bigh's  and  rational  Icgislafi  n,  where  the 
interests  of  the  political  Totali  y,  of  the  State,  are  kept  in 
view,  liHcl  no  existence. 

The  Third  Reaction,  noticed  above,  was  that  of  the  ele- 
ment of  Universality  against  the  R  al  World  as  s  lit  np  int  > 
particularity.  This  rt  a-timi  pr<  creeled  from  below  upwa  ds 
— from  that  condition  c  f  isolated  possession  it-elf;  and  was 
then  promoted  chiefly  by  the  church.  A  sense  of  the 
nothingness  of  its  condition  seized  on  the  world  as  it  were 
universally.  In  that  condition  of  utter  isolation,  where  only 
the  unsanctioned  might  of  individuals  had  any  validity  [where 
the  State  was  non-existent,]  men  c  uld  find  no  repose,  and 
{Christendom  was,  so  to  speak,  ng'tated  by  the  tremor  of  an  evil 


SECT.    II.      THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  389 

conscience.  In  the  eleventh  century,  the  fear  of  the  ap- 
proaching final  judgment  and  the  belief  in  the  speedy  disso- 
lution of  the  world,  spread  through  all  Europe.  This  dis* 
may  of  soul  impelled  men  to  the  most  irrational  proceedings. 
Some  bestowed  the  whole  of  their  possessions  on  the  Church, 
and  passed  their  lives  in  continual  penance ;  the  majority 
dissipated  their  worldly  all  in  riotous  debauchery.  The 
Church  alone  increased  its  riches  by  the  hallucinatioii,through 
donations  and  bequests. — About  the  same  time  too,  terrible 
famines  swept  away  their  victims :  human  flesh  was  sold 
in  open  market.  During  this  state  of  things,  lawlessness, 
brutal  lust,  the  most  barbarous  caprice,  deceit  and  cunning, 
were  the  prevailing  moral  features.  Italy,  the  centre  of 
Christendom,  presented  the  most  revolting  aspect.  Every 
virtue  was  alien  to  the  times  in  question  ;  consequently  virtus 
had  lost  its  proper  meaning  :  in  common  use  it  denoted  only 
violence  and  oppression,  sometimes  even  libidinous  outrage. 
This  corrupt  state  of  things  affected  the  clergy  equally 
with  the  laity.  Their  own  advowees  had  made  themselves 
masters  of  the  ecclesiastical  estates  entrusted  to  their 
keeping,  and  lived  on  them  quite  at  their  own  pleasure, 
restricting  the  monks  and  clergy  to  a  scanty  pittance. 
Monasteries  that  refused  to  accept  advowees  were  compelled 
to  do  so ;  the  neighbouring  lords  taking  the  office  upon 
themselves  or  giving  it  to  their  sous.  Only  bishops  and 
abbots  maintained  themselves  in  possession,  being  able  to 
protect  themselves  partly  by  their  own  power,  partly  by 
means  of  their  retainers  ;  since  they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
of  noble  families. 

The  bishoprics  being  secular  fiefs,  their  occupants  were 
bound  to  the  performance  of  imperial  and  feudal  service.  The 
investiture  of  the  bishops  belonged  to  the  sovereigns,  and  it 
was  their  interest  that  these  ecclesiastics  should  be  attached 
to  them.  Whoever  desired  a  bishopric,  therefore,  had  to 
make  application  to  the  king  ;  and  thus  a  regular  trade  was 
carried  on  in  bishoprics  and  abbacies.  Usurers  who  had 
lent  money  to  the  sovereign,  received  compensation  by  the 
bestowal  of  the  dignities  in  question  ;  the  worst  of  men  thus 
came  into  possession  of  spiritual  offices.  There  could  be  no 
question  that  the  clergy  ought  to  have  been  chosen  by  the 
religious  community,  and  there  were  always  influential  per- 


300  JrART   Iv.      THE    OEHMAtf    WORLD. 


eons  who  had  the  right  of  electing  them  ;  but  the  king  com- 
pelled them  to  yield  to  his  orders.  Nor  did  the  Papal  dig- 
nity fare  any  better.  Through  a  long  course  of  years  the 
Counts  of  Tusculum  near  Rome  conferred  it  on  members  of 
their  own  family,  or  on  persons  to  whom  they  had  sold  it  for 
large  sums  of  money.  The  state  of  things  became  at  last  so 
intolerable,  that  laymen  as  well  as  ecclesiastics  of  energetic 
character  opposed  its  continuance.  The  Emperor  Henry  ill  . 
put  an  end  to  the  strife  of  factions,  by  nominating  the  Popes 
himself,  and  supporting  them  by  his  authority  in  defiance  of 
the  opposition  of  the  Eoman  nobility.  Pope  Nicholas  II. 
decided  that  the  Popes  should  be  chosen  by  the  Cardinals  ; 
but  as  the  latter  partly  belonged  to  dominant  families,  simi- 
lar contests  of  factions  continued  to  accompany  their  election. 
Gregory  VII.  (already  famous  as  Cardinal  Hildebrand) 
sought  to  secure  the  independence  of  the  church  in  this 
frightful  condition  of  things,  by  two  measures  especially. 
First,  he  enforced  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy.  Erom  the  ear- 
liest times,  it  must  be  observed,  the  opinion  had  prevailed 
that  it  was  commendable  and  desirable  for  the  clergy  to  re- 
main unmarried.  Yet  the  annalists  and  chroniclers  inform 
us  that  this  requirement  was  but  indifferently  complied  with. 
Nicholas  II.  had  indeed  pronounced  the  married  clergy  to  be 
a  new  sect  ;  but  Gregory  VII.  proceeded  to  enforce  the  re- 
striction with  extraordinary  energy,  excommunicating  all  the 
married  clergy  and  all  laymen  who  should  hear  mass  when 
they  officiated.  In  this  way  the  ecclesiastical  body  was  shut 
up  within  itself  and  excluded  from  the  morality  of  the  State. 
—  His  second  measure  was  directed  against  simony,  i.e.  the 
sale  of  or  arbitrary  appointment  to  bishoprics  and  to  'the 
Papal  See  itself.  Ecclesiastical  offices  were  thenceforth  to 
be  filled  by  the  clergy,  who  were  capable  of  administering 
them  ;  an  arrangement  which  necessarily  brought  the  eccle- 
siastical body  into  violent  collision  with  secular  seigneurs. 

These  were  the  two  grand  measures  by  which  Gregory 
purposed  to  emancipate  the  Church  from  its  condition  of  de- 
pendence and  exposure  to  secular  violence.  But  Gregory 
made  still  further  demands  on  the  secular  power.  The 
transference  of  benefices  to  a  new  incumbent  was  to  receive 
validity  simply  in  virtue  of  his  ordination  by  his  ecclesiasti- 
cal superior,  and  the  Pope  was  to  have  exclusive  control  ovei 


SECT.  II.   THE  MIDDLE  AGES.  391 

the  vast  property  of  the  ecclesiastical  community.  The 
Church  as  a  divinely  constituted  power,  laid  claim  to  supre- 
macy over  secular  authority,— founding  that  claim  on  the 
abstract  principle  that  the  Divine  is  superior  to  the  Secular. 
The  Emperor  at  his  coronation— a  ceremony  which  only  the 
Pope  could  perform — was  obliged  to  promise  upon  oath  that 
he  would  always  be  obedient  to  the  Pope  and  the  Church. 
Whole  countries  and  states,  such  as  Naples,  Portugal,  Eng- 
land and  Ireland  came  into  a  formal  relation  of  vassalage  to 
the  Papal  chair. 

Thus  the  Church  attained  an  independent  position  :  the 
Bishops  convoked  synods  in  the  various  countries,  and  in 
these  convocations  the  clergy  found  a  permanent  centre  of 
unity  and  support.  In  this  way  the  Church  attained  the 
most  influential  position  in  secular  affairs.  It  arrogated  to 
itself  the  award  of  princely  crowns,  and  assumed  the  part  of 
mediator  between  sovereign  powers  in  war  and  peace.  The 
contingencies  which  particularly  favoured  such  interventions 
on  the  part  of  the  Church  were  the  marriages  of  princes.  It 
frequently  happened  that  princes  wished  to  be  divorced  from 
their  wives  ;  but  for  such  a  step  they  needed  the  permission 
of  the  Church.  The  latter  did  not  let  slip  the  opportunity 
of  insisting  upon  the  fulfilment  of  demands  that  might  have 
been  otherwise  urged  in  vain,  and  thence  advanced  till  it  had 
obtained  universal  influence.  In  the  chaotic  state  of 
the  community  generally,  the  intervention  of  the  authority 
of  the  Church  was  felt  as  a  necessity.  By  the  introduction 
of  the  "  Truce  of  God,"  feuds  and  private  revenge  were  sus- 
pended for  at  least  certain  days  in  the  week,  or  even  for  en- 
tire weeks  ;  and  the  Church  maintained  this  armistice  by 
the  use  of  all  its  ghostly  appliances  of  excommunication, 
interdict  and  other  threats  and  penalties.  The  secular  pos- 
sessions of  the  Church  brought  it  however  into  a  relation  to 
other  secular  princes  and  lords,  which  was  alien  to  ita 
proper  nature ;  it  constituted  a  formidable  secular  power  in 
contraposition  to  them,  and  thus  formed  in  the  first  instance 
a  centre  of  opposition  against  violence  and  arbitrary  wrong. 
It  withstood  especially  the  attacks  upon  the  ecclesiastical 
foundations — the  secular  lordships  of  the  Bishops ;  and  on 
occasion  of  opposition  on  the  part  of  vaasals  to  the  violence 


392  PART  iv.     THE  GERMAN 

and  caprice  of  princes,  the  former  had  the  support  of  the  Pope. 
But  in  these  proceedings  the  Church  brought  to  bear  against 
opponents  only  a  torce  and  arbitrary  resolve  of  the  same 
kind  as  their  own,  and  mixed  up  its  secular  interest  with  its 
interest  as  an  ecclesiastical,  i.e.  a  divinely  substantial  power. 
Sovereigns  and  peoples  were  by  no  means  incapable  of  dis- 
criminating between  the  two,  or  of  recognizing  the  worldly 
aims  that  were  apt  to  intrude  as  motives  for  ecclesiastical 
intervention.  They  therefore  stood  by  the  Church  as  far 
as  they  deemed  it  their  interest  to  do  so  ;  otherwise  they 
shewed  no  great  dread  of  excommunication  or  other  ghostly 
terrors.  Italy  was  the  country  where  the  authority  of  the 
Popes  was  least  respected  ;  and  the  worst  usage  they  experi- 
enced wras  from  the  Romans  themselves.  Thus  what  the 
Popes  acquired  in  point  of  land  and  wealth  and  direct 
sovereignty,  they  lost  in  influence  and  consideration. 

We  have  then  to  probe  to  its  depths  the  spiritual  element  in 
the  Church, — the  form  of  its  power.  The  essence  of  the 
Christian  principle  has  already  been  unfolded ;  it  is  the  prin- 
ciple  of  Mediation.  Man  realizes  his  Spiritual  essence  only 
when  he  conquers  the  Natural  that  attaches  to  him.  This 
conquest  is  possible  only  on  the  supposition  that  the  human 
and  the  divine  nature  are  essentially  one,  and  that  Man,  so 
far  as  he  is  Spirit,  also  possesses  the  essentiality  and  substan- 
tiality that  belongs  to  the  idea  of  Deity.  The  condition  of  the 
mediation  in  question  is  the  consciousness  of  this  unity;  and 
the  intuition  of  this  unity  was  given  to  man  in  Christ.  The 
object  to  be  attained  is  therefore,  that  man  should  lay  hold  on 
this  consciousness,  and  that  it  should  be  continually  excited 
in  him.  This  was  the  design  of  the  Mass:  in  theHost  Christ  is 
set  forth  as  actually  present :  the  piece  of  bread  consecrated 
by  the  priest  is  the  present  God,  subjected  to  human  con- 
templation and  ever  and  anon  offered  up.  One  feature  of  this 
representation  is  correct,  inasmuch  as  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  is 
here  regarded  as  an  actual  and  eternal  transaction,  Christ 
being  not  a  mere  sensuous  and  single,  but  a  completely  uni- 
versal, i.e.  divine  individuum  ;  but  on  the  other  hand  it  in- 
volves the  error  of  isolating  the  sensuous  phase ;  for  the 
1  Lost  is  adored  eyen  apart  from  its  being  pariakej  of  by  the 
faithful,  and  the  presence  of  Christ  is  not  exclusively  limited 


SECT.    II.       TllE    MIDDLE    AGES.  393 

mental  vision  and  Spirit.  J  ustly  therefore  did  the  Lutheran 
Reformation  make  this  dogma  an  especial  object  of  attack. 
Luther  proclaimed  the  great  doctrine  that  the  Host  had 
spiritual  value  and  Christ  was  received  only  on  the  condition 
of  faith  in  him  ;  apart  from  this,  the  Host,  he  affirmed,  was 
a  mere  external  thing,  possessed  of  no  greater  value  than 
any  other  thing.  But  the  Catholic  falls  down  before  the 
Host ;  and  thus  the  merely  outward  has  sanctity  ascribed  to 
it.  The  Holy  as  a  mere  thing  has  the  character  of  exter- 
nality ;  thus  it  is  capable  of  being  taken  possession  of  by 
another  to  my  exclusion  :  it  may  come  into  an  alien  hand, 
since  the  process  of  appropriating  it  is  not  one  that  takes 
place  in  Spirit,  but  is  conditioned  by  its  quality  as  an  ex- 
ternal object  [Dingheit].  The  highest  of  human  blessings 
is  in  the  hands  of  others.  Here  arises  ipso  facto  a  separa- 
tion between  those  who  possess  this  blessing  arid  those  who 
have  to  receive  it  from  others — between  the  Clergy  and. the 
Laity.  The  laity  as  such  are  alien  to  the  Divine.  This  is 
the  absolute  schism  in  which  the  Church  in  the  Middle 
Ages  was  involved:  it  arose  from  the  recognition  of  the 
Holy  as  something  external.  The  clergy  imposed  certain 
conditions,  to  which  the  laity  must  conform  if  they  would  be 
partakers  of  the  Holy.  The  entire  development  of  doctrine, 
spiritual  insight  and  the  knowledge  of  divine  things,  belonged 
exclusively  to  the  Church  :  it  has  to  ordain,  and  the  laity  have 
simply  to  believe  :  obedience  is  their  duty — the  obedience  of 
faith,  without  insight  on  their  part.  This  position  of  things 
rendered  faith  a  matter  of  external  legislation,  and  resulted 
in  compulsion  and  the  stake. 

The  generality  of  men  are  thus  cut  off  from  the  Church  ; 
and  on  the  same  principle  they  are  severed  from  the  Holy 
in  every  form.  For  on  the  same  principle  as  that  by  which 
the  clergy  are  the  medium  between  man  on  the  one  hand  and 
God  and  Christ  on  the  other  hand,  the  layman  cannot  directly 
apply  to  the  Divine  Being  in  his  prayers,  but  only  through 
mediators  -  human  beings  wTho  conciliate  God  for  him,  the 
Dead,  the  Perfect  -Saint*.  Thus  originated  the  adoration 
of  the  Saints,  and  with  it  that  conglomerate  of  fables  and 
falsities  with  which  the  Saints  and  their  biographies  have 
been  invested.  In  the  East  the  worship  of  images  had  early 


394)  PART    IT        THE    GERMAN    WORLD 

become  popular,  and  after  a  lengthened  struggle  had  triumph- 
antly established  itself: — an  image,  a  picture,  though  sen- 
suous, still  appeals  rather  to  the  imagination  ;  but  the  coarser 
natures  of  the  West  desired  something  more  immediate  as  the 
object  of  their  contemplation,  and  thus  arose  the  worship  of 
relics.  The  consequence  was  a  formal  resurrection  of  the  dead 
in  the  medieval  period ;  every  pious  Christian  wished  to  be  in 
possession  of  such  Racred  earthly  remains.  Among  the  Saints 
the  chief  object  of  adoration  was  the  Virgin  Mary.  She  is 
certainly  the  beautiful  concept  of  pure  love — a  mother's  love ; 
but  Spirit  and  Thought  stand  higher  than  even  this ;  and  in 
the  worship  of  this  conception  that  of  God  in  Spirit  was  lost, 
and  Christ  himself  was  set  aside.  The  element  of  media- 
tion between  God  and  man  was  thus  apprehended  and  held 
as  something  external.  Thus  through  the  perversion  of 
the  principle  of  Freedom,  absolute  Slavery  became  the  es- 
tablished law.  The  other  aspects  and  relations  of  the 
spiritual  life  of  Europe  during  this  period  flow  from  this 
principle.  Knowledge,  comprehension  of  religious  doctrine, 
is  something  of  which  Spirit  is  judged  incapable  ;  it  is  the 
exclusive  possession  of  a  class,  which  has  to  determine  the 
True.  For  man  may  not  presume  to  stand  in  a  direct  rela- 
tion to  God ;  so  that,  as  we  said  before,  if  he  would  apply 
to  Him,  he  needs  a  mediator — a  Saint.  This  view  imports 
the  denial  of  the  essential  unity  of  the  Divine  and  Human; 
since  man,  as  such,  is  declared  incapable  of  recognizing  the 
Divine  and  of  approaching  thereto.  And  while  humanity  is 
thus  separated  from  the  Supreme  Good,  no  change  of  heart, 
as  such,  is  insisted  upon, — for  this  would  suppose  that  the 
unity  of  the  Divine  and  the  Human  is  to  be  found  in  man 
himself,  —but  the  terrors  of  Hell  are  exhibited  to  man  in  the 
most  terrible  colours,  to  induce  him  to  escape  from  them,  not 
by  moral  amendment,  but  in  virtue  of  something  external 
— the  "  means  of  grace"  These,  however,  are  an  arcanum 
to  the  laity;  another — the  'Confessor,'  must  furnish  him  with 
them.  The  individual  has  to  confess  —is  bound  to  expose  all 
the  particulars  of  his  life  and  conduct  to  the  view  of  the 
Confessor — and  then  is  informed  what  course  he  has  to  pursue 
to  attain  spiritual  safety.  Thus  the  Church  took  the  place 
ol  Conscience :  it  put  men  in  leading  strings  like  children, 


SECT.    II.      THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  395 

and  told  them  that  man  could  not  be  freed  from  the  torments 
which  his  sins  had  merited,  by  any  amendment  of  his  own 
moral  condition,  but  by  outward  actions,  opera  operetta — 
actions  which  *were  not  the  promptings  of  his  own  good-will, 
but  performed  by  command  of  the  ministers  of  the  church  ; 
e.g.  hearing  mass,  doing  penance,  going  through  a  certain 
number  of  prayers,  undertaking  pilgrimages, — actions  which 
are  unspiritual,  stupefy  the  soul,  and  which  are  not  only  mere 
external  ceremonies,  but  are  such  as  can  be  even  vicariously 
performed.  The  supererogatory  works  ascribed  to  the  saints, 
could  be  purchased,  and  the  spiritual  advantage  which  they 
merited,  secured  to  the  purchaser.  Thus  was  produced  an 
utter  derangement  of  all  that  is  recognized  as  good  and 
moral  in  the  Christian  Church  :  only  external  requirements 
are  insisted  upon,  and  these  can  be  complied  with  in  a 
merely  external  way.  A  condition  the  very  reverse  of  Free- 
dom is  intruded  into  the  principle  of  Freedom  itself. 

"With  this  perversion  is  connected  the  absolute  separation 
cf  the  spiritual  from  the  secular  principle  generally.  There 
are  two  Divine  Kingdoms, — the  intellectual  in  the  heart  and 
cognitive  faculty,  and  the  socially  ethical  whose  element 
and  sphere  is  secular  existence.  It  is  science  alone  that  can 
comprehend  the  kingdom  of  God  and  the  socially  Moral 
world  as  one  Idea,  and  that  recognizes  the  fact  that  the 
course  of  Time  has  witnessed  a  process  ever  tending  to  the 
realization  of  this  unity.  But  Piety  [or  Religious  Feeling] 
as  such,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Secular  :  it  may  make 
its  appearance  in  that  sphere  on  a  mission  of  mercy,  but 
this  stops  short  of  a  strict  socially  ethical  connection  with 
it — does  not  come  up  to  the  idea  of  Freedom.  Religious 
Feeling  is  extraneous  to  History,  and  has  no  History ;  for 
History  is  rather  the  Empire  of  Spirit  recognizing  itself  ih 
its  Subjective  Freedom,  as  the  economy  of  social  morality 
[sittliches  Reich]  in  the  State.  In  the  Middle  Ages  that 
embodying  of  the  Divine  in  actual  life  was  wanting;  the  an 
tithesis  was  not  harmonized.  Social  morality  was  repro 
sented  as  worthless,  and  that  in  its  three  most  essential 
particulars. 

One  phase  of  social  morality  is  that  connected  with  Love 
—with  the  emotions  called  forth  in  the  marriage  relation. 


396  PAET    IV.       THE    GEHMAJf    WORLD. 

Tt  is  not  proper  to  say  that  Celibacy  is  contrary  to  Nature, 
but  that  it  is  adverse  to  Social  Morality  [Sittlichkeit.] 
Marriage  was  indeed  reckoned  by  the  Churc-h  among  the 
Sacraments;  but  not withstaD ding  the  position  thus  assigned 
it,  it  was  degraded,  inasmuch  as  celibacy  was  reckoned  as  the 
more  holy  state.  A  second  point  of  social  morality  is  pre- 
sented in  Activity — the  work  man  has  to  perform  for  his  sub- 
sistence. His  dignity  consists  in  his  depending  entirely  on 
his  diligence,  conduct,  and  intelligence,  for  the  supply  of  his 
wants.  In  direct  contravention  of  this  principle,  Pauperism, 
laziness,  inactivity,  was  regarded  as  nobler:  and  the  Immoral 
thus  received  the  stamp  of  consecration.  A  third  point  of 
morality  is,  that  obedience  be  rendered  to  the  Moral  and 
Rational,  as  an  obedience  to  laws  wrhich  I  recognize  as 
just ;  that  it  be  not  that  blind  and  unconditional  compliance 
which  does  not  know  what  it  is  doing,  and  whose  course  of 
action  is  a  mere  groping  about  without  clear  consciousness 
or  intelligence.  But  it  was  exactly  this  latter  kind  of  obe- 
dience that  passed  for  the  most  pleasing  to  God  ;  a  doctrine 
that  exalts  the  obedience  of  Slavery,  imposed  by  the  arbitrary 
will  of  the  Church,  above  the  true  obedience  of  Freedom. 

In  this  way  the  three  vows  of  Chastity,  Poverty,  and 
Obedience  turned  out  the  very  opposite  of  what  they  assumed 
to  be,  and  in  them  all  social  morality  was  degraded.  The 
Church  was  no  longer  a  spiritual  power,  but  an  ecclesiastical 
one  ;  and  the  relation  which  the  secular  world  sustained  to 
it  was  unspiritual,  automatic,  and  destitute  of  independent 
insight  and  conviction.  As  the  consequence  of  this,  we  see 
everywhere  vice,  utter  absence  of  respect  for  conscience, 
shauielessness,  and  a  distracted  state  of  things,  of  which  the 
entire  history  of  the  period  is  the  picture  in  detail. 

According  to  the  above,  the  Church  of  the  Middle  Ages 
exhibits  itself  as  a  manifold  Self-contradiction.  For  Subjec- 
tive Spirit,  although  testifying  of  the  Absolute,  is  at  the  same 
time  limited  and  definitely  existing  Spirit,  as  Intelligence 
and  Will.  Its  limitation  begins  in  its  taking  up  this  dis- 
tinctive position,  and  here  consentaneously  begins  its  contra- 
dictory and  self-alienated  phase  ;  for  that  intelligence  and 
will  are  not  imbued  with  the  Truth,  which  appears  in  rela- 
tiou  to  them  as  something  given  [posited  ab  extra}.  This 


SECT.    II.       THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  397 

vxi.emality  of  the  Absolute  Object  of  comprehension  affects 
the  consciousness  thus:  -that' the  Absolute  Object  presents 
itself  as  a  merely  sensuous,  external  thing — common  out- 
ward existence — and  yet  claims  to  be  Absolute:  in  the 
medieval  view  of  things  this  absolute  demand  is  made  upon 
Spirit.  The  second  form  of  the  contradiction  in  question 
has  to  do  with  the  relation  which  the  Church  itself  sustains. 
The  true  Spirit  exists  in  man — is  his  Spirit ;  and  the  indi- 
vidual gives  himself  the  certainty  of  this  identity  with  the 
Absolute,  in  worship,— the  Church  sustaining  merely  the 
relation  of  a  teacher  and  directress  of  this  worship.  But 
here,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  an  ecclesiastical  body,  like 
the  Brahmins  in  India,  in  possession  of  the  Truth, — not 
indeed  by  birth,  but  in  virtue  of  knowledge,  teaching  and 
training, — yet  with  the  proviso  that  this  alone  is  not  suffi- 
cient, an  external  -form,  an  unspiritual  title  being  judged 
essential  to  actual  possession.  This  outward  form  is  Ordi- 
nation, whose  nature  is  such  that  the  consecration  imparted 
inheres  essentially  like  a  sensuous  quality  in  the  individual, 
whatever  be  the  character  of  his  soul — be  he  irreligious,  im- 
moral, or  absolutely  ignorant.  The  third  kind  of  contradic- 
tion is  the  Church  itself,  in  its  acquisition  as  an  outward 
existence,  of  possessions  and  an  enormous  property — a  state 
of  things  which,  since  that  Church  despises  or  professes  to 
despise  rirhes,  is  none  other  than  a  Lie. 

And  we  found  the  State,  during  the  medieval  period, 
similarly  involved  in  contradictions.  We  spoke  above  of 
an  imperial  rule,  recognized  as  standing  by  the  side  of  the 
Church  and  constituting  its  secular  arm.  But  the  power 
thus  acknowledged  is  invalidated  by  the  fact  that  the  impe- 
rial dignity  in  question  is  an  empty  title,  not  regarded  by 
the  Emperor  himself  or  by  those  who  wish  to  make  him  the 
instrument  of  their  ambitious  views,  as  conferring  solid  au- 
thority on  its  possessor ;  for  passion  and  physical  force  as- 
sume an  independent  position,  and  own  no  subjection  to  that 
merely  abstract  conception.  But  secondly,  the  bond  of  union 
which  holds  the  Medieval  State  together,  and  which  we  call 
Fidelity,  is  left  to  the  arbitrary  choice  of  men's  disposition 
[Gemiith]  which  recognizes  no  objective  duties.  Conse- 
quently, this  Fidelity  is  the  most  unfaithful  thing  possible. 


398  PART   IV.      THE    GKUMAN 

German  Honour  in  the  Middle  Ages  has  become  a  proverb : 
but  examined  more  closely  as  History  exhibits  it  we  find  it 
a  veritable  Punica  fides  or  Graca  fides  ;  for  the  princes  and 
vassals  of  the  Emperor  are  true  and  honourable  only  to  theii 
selfish  aims,  individual  advantage  and  passions,  but  utterly 
untrue  to  the  Empire  and  the  Emperor ;  because  in  "  Fide- 
lity" in  the  abstract,  their  subjective  caprice  receives  a 
sanction,  and  the  State  is  not  organized  as  a  moral  totality. 
A  third  contradiction  presents  itself  in  the  character  of  in- 
dividuals, exhibiting,  as  they  do  on  the  one  hand,  piety — 
religious  devotion,  the  most  beautiful  in  outward  aspect, 
and  springing  from  the  very  depths  of  sincerity— and  on  the 
other  hand  a  barbarous  deficiency  in  point  of  intelligence 
and  will.  We  find  an  acquaintance  with  abstract  Truth, 
and  yet  the  most  uncultured,  the  rudest  ideas  of  the  Secu- 
lar and  the  Spiritual  :  a  truculent  delirium  of  passion 
and  yet  a  Christian  sanctity  which  renounces  all  that  is 
worldly,  and  devotes  itself  entirely  to  holiness.  So  self- 
contradictory,  so  deceptive  is  this  mediaeval  period  ;  and  the 
polemical  zeal  with  which  its  excellence  is  contended  for,  is 
one  of  the  absurdities  of  our  times.  Primitive  barbarism, 
rudeness  of  manners,  and  childish  fancy  are  not  revolting  ; 
they  simply  excite  our  pity.  But  the  highest  purity  of  soul 
defiled  by  the  most  horrible  barbarity;  the  Truth,  of  which 
a  knowledge  has  been  acquired,  degraded  to  a  mere  tool  by 
falsehood  and  self-seeking ;  that  which  is  most  irrational, 
coarse  and  vile,  established  and  strengthened  by  the  religious 
sentiment, — this  is  the  most  disgusting  and  revolting  spec- 
tacle that  was  ever  witnessed,  and  which  only  Philosophy 
can  comprehend  and  so  justify.  For  such  an  antithesis 
must  arise  in  man's  consciousness  of  the  Holy  while  this 
consciousness  still  remains  primitive  and  immediate ;  and  the 
profounder  the  truth  to  which  Spirit  comes  into  an  implicit 
relation, — while  it  has  not  yet  become  aware  of  its  own 
presence  in  that  profound  truth,— so  much  the  more  alien  is 
it  to  itself  in  this  its  unknown  form  :  but  only  as  the  result 
of  this  alienation  does  it  attain  its  true  harmonization. 

We  have  then  contemplated  the  Church  as  the  reaction  of 
the  Spiritual  against  the  secular  life  of  the  time  ;  but  this  re- 
action is  so  conditioned,  that  it  only  subjects  to  itself  that 


SECT.    II.       THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  309 

against  which  it  reacts, — does  not  reform  it.  While  the 
Spiritual,  repudiating  its  proper  sphere  of  action,  has  been 
acquiring  secular  power,  a  secular  sovereignty  has  also  con- 
solidated itself  and  attained  a  systematic  development — the 
Feudal  System.  As  through  their  isolation,  men  are  reduced 
to  a  dependence  on  their  individual  power  and  might,  every 
point  in  the  world  on  which  a  human  being  can  maintain  his 
ground  becomes  an  energetic  one.  While  the  Individual  still 
remains  destitute  of  the  defence  of  laws  and  is  protected 
only  by  his  own  exertion,  life,  activity  and  excitement  every- 
where manifest  themselves.  As  men  are  certain  of  eternal 
salvation  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Church,  and  to 
this  end  are  bound  to  obey  it  only  in  its  spiritual  require- 
ments, their  ardour  in  the  pursuit  of  worldly  enjoyment 
increases,  on  the  other  hand,  in  inverse  proportion  to  their 
fear  of  its  producing  any  detriment  to  their  spiritual  weal ; 
for  the  Church  bestows  indulgences,  when  required,  for  op- 
pressive, violent  and  vicious  actions  of  all.  kinds. 

The  period  from  the  eleventh  to  the  thirteenth  century 
witnessed  the  rise  of  an  impulse  which  developed  itself  in 
various  forms.  The  inhabitants  of  various  districts  be- 
gan to  build  enormous  churches — Cathedrals,  erected  to 
contain  the  whole  community.  Architecture  is  always  the 
first  art,  forming  the  inorganic  phase,  the  domiciliation  of 
the  divinity ;  not  till  this  is  accomplished  does  Art  attempt 
to  exhibit  to  the  worshippers  the  divinity  himself— the 
Objective.  Maritime  commerce  was  carried  on  with  vigour 
by  the  cities  on  the  Italian,  Spanish,  and  Flemish  coasts,  and 
this  stimulated  the  productive  industry  of  their  citizens  at 
home.  The  Sciences  began  in  some  degree  to  revive :  the 
Scholastic  Philosophy  was  in  its  glory.  Schools  for  the 
study  of  law  were  founded  at  Bologna  and  other  places,  as 
also  for  that  of  medicine.  It  is  on  the  rise  and  growing  im- 
portance of  the  Towns,  that  all  these  creations  depend  as 
their  main  condition  ;  a  favourite  subject  of  historical  treat- 
ment in  modern  times.  And  the  rise  of  such  communities  was 
greatly  desiderated.  For  the  Towns,  like  the  Church,  present 
themselves  as  reactions  against  feudal  violence — as  tho  ear- 
liest legally  and  regularly  constituted  power.  Mention  liaa 
already  been  made  of  the  fact  that  the  possessors  of  power 
compelled  others  to  put  themselves  under  their  protection. 


400  PART    IV.       THK    GERMAN    WOKLJ>. 

Such  centres  of  safety  were  castles  [Burgen],  churches  and 
monasteries,  round  which  were  collected  those  who  needed 
protection.  These  now  became  burghers  [Burger],  and 
entered  into  a  cliental  relation  to  the  lords  of  such  castles  or 
to  monastic  bodies.  Thus  a  firmly  established  community 
was  formed  in  many  places.  Many  cities  and  fortified  places 
[Castelle]  still  existed  in  Italy,  in  the  South  of  France,  and 
in.  Germany  on  the  Rhine,  which  dated  their  existence  from 
the  ancient  Roman  times,  and  which  originally  possessed 
municipal  rights,  but  subsequently  lost  them  under  the  rule 
of  feudal  governors  [Vogte].  The  citizens  like  their  rural 
neighbours  had  been  reduced  to  vassalage. 

The  principle  of  free  possession  however  began  to  develop 
itself  from  the  protective  relation  of  feudal  protection  ;  i.e. 
freedom  originated  in  its  direct  contrary.  The  feudal  lords 
or  great  barons  enjoyed,  properly  speaking,  no  free  or  ab- 
solute possession,  any  more  than  their  dependents  ;  they 
had  unlimited  power  over  the  latter,  but  at  the  same  time 
they  also  were  vassals  of  princes  higher  and  mightier  than 
themselves,  and  to  whom  they  were  under  engagements—- 
which, it  must  be  confessed,  they  did  not  fulfil  except  under 
compulsion.  The  ancient  Germans  had  known  of  none 
other  than  free  possession ;  but  this  principle  had  been 
perverted  into  its  complete  opposite,  and  now  for  the 
first  time  we  behold  the  few  feeble  commencements  ot 
a  reviving  sense  ot  freedom.  Individuals  brought  into  closer 
relation  by  the  soil  which  they  cultivated,  formed  among 
themselves  a  kind  of  union,  confederation,  or  conjuratio. 
They  agreed  to  be  and  to  perform  on  their  own  behalf  that 
which  they  had  previously  been  and  performed  in  the  service 
of  their  feudal  lord  alone.  Their  first  united  undertaking 
was  the  erection  of  a  tower  in  which  a  bell  was  sus- 
pended :  the  ringing  of  the  bell  was  a  signal  for  a  general 
rendezvous,  and  the  object  of  the  union  thus  appointed 
was  the  formation  of  a  kind  of  militia.  This  is  followed 
by  the  institution  of  a  municipal  government,  consisting 
of  magistrates,  jurors,  consuls,  and  the  establishment  of  a 
common  treasury,  the  imposition  of  taxes,  tolls,  &c. 
Trenches  are  dug  and  walls  built  for  the  common  de- 
fence, .  and  the  citizens  are  forbidden  to  erect  fortresses 
lor  themselves  individually.  In  such  a  community, .  handi* 


SECT.    II.       THE    MIDDLE    AGES.  401 

crafts,  as  distinguished  from  agriculture,  find  their  proper 
home.  Artizans  necessarily  soon  attained  a  superior  po- 
sition to  that  of  the  tillers  of  the  ground,  for  the  latter 
were  forcibly  driven  to  work  ;  the  former  displayed  activity 
really  their  own,  and  a  corresponding  diligence  and  in- 
terest in  the  results  of  their  labours.  Formerly  artizans 
had  been  obliged  to  get  permission  from  their  liege  lords 
to  sell  their  work,  and  thus  earn  something  for  themselves  : 
they  were  obliged  to  pay  them  a  certain  sum  for  this 
privilege  of  market,  besides  contributing  a  portion  of  their 
gains  to  the  baronial  exchequer.  Those  who  had  houses 
of  their  own  were  obliged  to  pay  a  considerable  quit- 
rent  for  them ;  on  all  that  was  imported  and  exported, 
the  nobility  imposed  large  tolls,  and  for  the  security 
afforded  to  travellers  they  exacted  safe-conduct  money. 
When  at  a  later  date  these  communities  became  stronger, 
all  such  feudal  rights  were  purchased  from  the  nobles, 
or  the  cession  of  them  compulsorily  extorted :  by  degrees 
the  towns  secured  an  independent  jurisdiction  and  like- 
wise freed  themselves  from  all  taxes,  tolls  and  rents.  The 
burden  which  continued  the  longest  was  the  obligation 
the  towns  were  under  to  make  provision  for  the  Emperor 
and  his  whole  retinue  during  his  stay  within  their  pre- 
cincts, as  also  for  seigneurs  of  inferior  rank  under  the 
same  circumstances.  The  trading  class  subsequently  di- 
vided itself  into  guilds,  to  each  of  which  were  attached  par- 
ticular rights  and  obligations.  The  factions  to  which 
episcopal  elections  and  other  contingencies  gave  rise,  very 
often  promoted  the  attainment  by  the  towns  of  the  rights 
above-mentioned.  As  it  would  not  unfrequently  happen 
that  two  rival  bishops  were  elected  to  the  same  see,  each 
one  sought  to  draw  the  citizens  into  his  own  interest, 
by  granting  them  privileges  and  freeing  them  from  bur- 
dens. Subsequently  arose  many  feuds  with  the  clergy, 
the  bishops  and  abbots.  In  some  towns  they  maintained 
their  position  as  lords  of  the  municipality ;  in  others  the 
citizens  got  the  upper  hand,  and  obtained  their  freedom. 
Thus,  e.y.  Cologne  threw  off  the,  yoke  of  its  bishop ;  May- 
ence  on  the  other  hand  remained  subject.  By  degrees  cities 
grew  to  be  independent  republics :  first  and  foremost  in 

2D 


402  PART    IT.      THE    GEEMAN   WOKLD. 

Italy,  then  in  the  Netherlands,  Germany,  and  France. 
They  soon  come  to  occupy  a  peculiar  position  with  re- 
spect to  the  nobility.  The  latter  united  itself  with  the 
corporations  of  the  towns,  and  constituted  as  e.g.  in  Berne, 
a  particular  guild.  It  soon  assumed  special  powers  in 
the  corporations  of  the  towns  and  attained  a  dominant 
position ;  but  the  citizens  resisted  the  usurpation  and 
secured  the  government  to  themselves.  The  rich  citizens 
(populus  crassus)  now  excluded  the  nobility  from  power. 
But  in  the  same  way  as  the  party  of  the  nobility  was  divi- 
ded into  factions — especially  those  of  Ghibellines  and  Guelfs, 
of  which  the  former  favoured  the  Emperor,  the  latter  the 
Pope — that  of  the  citizens  also  was  rent  in  sunder  by  in- 
testine strife.  The  victorious  faction  was  accustomed  to 
exclude  its  vanquished  opponents  from  power.  The 
patrician  nobility  which  supplanted  the  feudal  aristocracy, 
deprived  the  common  people  of  all  share  in  the  conduct  of 
the  state,  and  thus  proved  itself  no  less  oppressive  than 
the  original  noblesse.  The  history  of  the  cities  presents 
us  with  a  continual  change  of  constitutions,  according  as 
one  party  among  the  citizens  or  the  other — this  faction  or 
that,  got  the  upper  hand.  Originally  a  select  body  of  citizens 
chose  the  magistrates ;  but  as  in  such  elections  the  victorious 
faction  always  had  the  greatest  influence,  no  other  means  of 
securing  impartial  functionaries  was  left,  but  the  election  of 
foreigners  to  the  office  of  judge  and  podesta.  It  also  fre- 
quently happened  that  the  cities  chose  foreign  princes  as 
supreme  seigneurs,  and  entrusted  them  with  the  signoria. 
But  all  these  arrangements  were  only  of  short  continuance  ; 
the  princes  soon  misused  their  sovereignty  to  promote 
their  own  ambitious  designs  and  to  gratify  their  passions, 
and  in  a  few  years  were  once  more  deprived  of  their  su- 
premacy. —  Thus  the  history  of  these  cities  presents  on 
the  one  hand,  in  individual  characters  marked  by  the  most 
terrible  or  the  most  admirable  features,  an  astonishingly 
interesting  picture ;  on  the  other  hand  it  repels  us  by 
assuming,  as  it  unavoidably  does,  the  aspect  of  mere  chro- 
nicles. In  contemplating  the  restless  and  ever-varying  im- 
pulses that  agitate  the  very  heart  of  these  cities  and  the 
continual  struggles  of  factions,  we  are  astonished  to  eee 


SECT.    II.      THE    MIDDLE  AGES.  403 

on  the  other  side  industry — commerce  by  land  and  sea— 
in  the  highest  degree  prosperous.  It  is  the  same  principle 
of  lively  vigour,  which,  nourished  by  the  internal  excitement 
in  question,  produces  this  phenomenon. 

We  have  contemplated  the  Church,  which  extended  its 
power  over  all  the  sovereignties  of  the  time,  and  the  Cities, 
where  a  social  organization  on  a  basis  of  Bight  was  first  re- 
suscitated, as  powers  reacting  against  the  authority  of  princes 
and  feudal  lords.  Against  these  two  rising  powers,  there 
followed  a  reactionary  movement  of  princely  authority  ;  the 
Emperor  now  enters  on  a  struggle  with  the  Pope  and  the 
cities.  The  Emperor  is  recognized  as  the  apex  of  Christian, 
i.e.  secular  power,  the  Pope  on  the  other  hand  as  that  of 
Ecclesiastical  power,  which  had  now  however  become  as  de- 
cidedly a  secular  dominion.  In  theory,  it  was  not  disputed 
that  the  Roman  Emperor  was  the  Head  of  Christendom, — 
that  he  possessed  the  dominium  mundi, — that  since  all  Chris- 
tian states  belonged  to  the  Roman  Empire,  their  princes 
owed  him  allegiance  in  all  reasonable  and  equitable  require- 
ments. However  satisfied  the  emperors  themselves  might  be 
of  the  validity  of  this  claim,  they  had  too  much  good  sense  to 
attempt  seriously  to  enforce  it :  but  the  empty  title  of  Roman 
Emperor  was  a  sufficient  inducement  to  them  to  exert 
themselves  to  the  utmost  to  acquire  and  maintain  it  in  Italy. 
The  Othos  especially  cherished  the  idea  of  the  continuation 
of  the  old  Roman  empire,  and  were  ever  and  anon  summoning 
the  German  princes  to  join  them  in  an  expedition  to  Rome 
with  a  view  to  coronation  there  ; — an  undertaking  in  which 
they  were  often  deserted  by  them  and  had  to  undergo  the 
shame  of  a  retreat.  Equal  disappointment  was  experienced 
by  those  Italians  who  hoped  for  deliverance  at  the  hands  of 
the  Emperor  from  the  ochlocracy  that  domineered  over  the 
cities,  or  from  the  violence  of  the  feudal  nobility  in  the 
country  at  large.  The  Italian  princes  who  had  invoked  the 
presence  of  the  Emperor  and  had  promised  him  aid  in  assert- 
ing his  claims,  drew  back  and  left  him  in  the  lurch ;  and 
those  who  had  previously  expected  salvation  for  their  coun- 
try, then  broke  out  into  bitter  complaints  that  their  beau- 
tiful country  was  devastated  by  barbarians,  their  superior 
civilization  tnxiden  under  foot,  and  that  ri^ht  and  liberty, 
deserted  by  the  Emperor,  must  also  perish.  Especially 

2i>2 


404  PART    iV.      THE    GERMAN    WORLD. 

touching  and  deep  are  the  lamentations  and  reproaches  which 
Dante  addresses  to  the  Emperors. 

The  second  complication  with  Italy  was  that  struggle  which 
contemporaneously  with  the  former  was  sustained  chiefly  by 
the  great  Swabians — the  house  of  Hohenstaufen — and  whos'e 
object  was  to  bring  back  the  secular  power  of  the  Church, 
which  had  become  independent,  to  its  original  dependence 
on  the  state.  The  Papal  See  was  also  a  secular  power  and 
sovereignty,  and  the  Emperor  asserted  the  superior  preroga- 
tive of  choosing  the  Pope  and  investing  him  with  his  secular 
sovereignty.  It  was  these  rights  of  the  State  for  which  the 
Emperors  contended.  Bat  to  that  secular  power  which  they 
withstood,  they  were  at  the  same  time  subject,  in  virtue  of 
its  spiritual  pretensions  :  thus  the  contest  was  an  intermin- 
able contradiction.  Contradictory  as  the  varying  phases  of 
the  contest,  in  which  reconciliation  was  ever  alternating  with 
renewed  hostilities,  was  also  the  instrumentality  employed 
in  the  struggle.  For  the  power  with  which  the  Emperors 
made  head  against  their  enemy-  the  princes,  their  servants 
and  subjects,  were  divided  in  their  own  minds,  inasmuch  as 
they  were  bound  by  the  strongest  ties  of  allegiance  to  the 
Emperor  and  to  his  enemy  at  one  and  the  same  time.  The 
chief  interest  of  the  princes  lay  in  that  verv  assumption  of 
independence  in  reference  to  the  State,  against  which  on 
the  part  of  the  Papal  See  the  Emperor  was  contending  ;  so 
that  they  were  willing  to  stand  by  the  Emperor  in  cases  where 
the  empty  dignity  of  the  imperial  crown  was  impugned,  or  on 
some  particular  occasions, — e.g.  in  a  contest  with  the  cities, 
— but  abandoned  him  when  he  aimed  at  seriously  asserting 
his  authority  against  the  secular  power  of  the  clergy,  or 
against  other  princes. 

As,  on  the  one  hand,  the  German  emperors  sought  to 
realize  their  title  in  Italy,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  Italy  had  its 
political  centre  in  Germany.  The  interest  of  the  two  coun- 
tries were  thus  linked  together,  and  neither  could  gain  poli- 
tical consolidation  within  itself.  In  the  brilliant  period  of 
the  Holienstaufen  dynasty,  individuals  of  commanding  cha- 
racter sustained  the  dignity  of  the  throne ; — sovereigns  like 
Frederick  Barbarossa,  in  whom  the  imperial  power  mani- 
fested itself  in  its  greatest  majesty,  and  who  by  his  personal 
qualities  succeeded  in  attaching  the  subject  princes  to  hia 


SECT.    II.       THE    MIDDLE    AGES. — THE    CRUSADES.        405 

interests.  Tet  brilliant  as  the  history  of  the  Hohenstaufen 
dynasty  may  appear,  and  stirring  as  might  have  been  the 
contest  with  the  Church,  the  former  presents  on  the  whole 
nothing  more  than  the  tragedy  of  this  house  itself,  and  the 
latter  had  no  important  result  in  the  sphere  of  Spirit.  The 
cities  were  indeed  compelled  to  acknowledge  the  imperial 
authority,  and  their  deputies  swore  to  observe  the  decisions 
of  the  Boncalian  Diet ;  but  they  kept  their  word  no  longer 
than  they  were  compelled  to  do  so.  Their  sense  of  obliga- 
tion depended  exclusively  on  the  direct  consciousness  of  a 
superior  power  ready  to  enforce  it.  It  is  said  that  when  the 
Emperor  Frederick  1.  asked  the  deputies  of  the  cities  whether 
they  had  not  sworn  to  the  conditions  of  peace,  they  answer- 
ed :  "  Yes,  but  not  that  we  would  observe  them."  The  re- 
sult was  that  Frederick  I.  at  the  Peace  of  Constance  (11 83) 
was  obliged  to  concede  to  them  a  virtual  independence ;  al- 
though he  appended  the  stipulation,  that  in  this  concession 
their  feudal  obligations  to  the  German  Empire  were  under- 
stood to  be  reserved.  The  contest  between  the  Emperors 
and  the  Popes  regarding  investitures  was  settled  at  the  close 
of  1122  by  Henry  V.  and  Pope  Calixtus  II.  on  these  terms : 
the  Emperor  was  to  invest  with  the  sceptre  ;  the  Pope  with 
the  ring  and  crosier ;  the  chapter  were  to  elect  the  Bishops 
in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor  or  of  imperial  commissioners  ; 
then  the  Emperor  was  to  invest  the  Bishop  as  a  secular  feu- 
datory with  the  tempornlia,  while  the  ecclesiastical  investiture 
was  reserved  for  the  Pope.  Thus  the  protracted  contest 
between  the  secular  and  spiritual  powers  was  at  length  set 
at  rest. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

THE   CRUSADES. 


THE  Church  gained  the  victory  in  the  struggle  referred  to 
in  the  previous  chapter ;  and  in  this  way  secured  as  decided 
a  supremacy  in  Germany,  as  she  did  in  the  other  ^ states  of 
Europe  by  a  calmer  process.  She  made  herself  mistress  of 
all  the  relations  of  life,  and  of  science  and  art ;  and  she  was 


406          PART  IV.   THE  OEHMAS-  WOULD. 

the  permanent  repository  of  spiritual  treasures.  Yet  not- 
withstanding this  full  and  complete  development  of  ecclesias- 
tical life,  we  find  a  deficiency  and  consequent  craving  mani- 
festing itself  in  Christendom,  and  which  drove  it  out  of  itself. 
To  understand  this  want,  we  must  revert  to  the  nature  of 
the  Christian  religion  itself,  and  particularly  to  that  aspect 
if  it  by  which  it  has  a  footing  in  the  Present  in  the  con- 
piousness  of  its  votaries. 

The  objective  doctrines  of  Christianity  had  been  already  so 
firmly  settled  by  the  Councils  of  the  Church,  that  neither 
the  mediaeval  nor  any  other  philosophy  could  develope  them 
further,  except  in  the  way  of  exalting  them  intellectually,  so 
that  they  might  be  satisfactory  as  presenting  the  form  of 
Thought.  And  one  essential  point  in  this  doctrine  was  the 
recognition  of  the  Divine  Nature  as  not  in  any  sense  an 
oilier-world  existence  [ein  Jenseits],  but  as  in  unity  with 
Human  Nature  in  the  Present  and  Actual.  But  this  Presence 
is  at  the  same  time  exclusively  Spiritual  Presence.  Christ 
as  a  particular  human  personality  has  left  the  world ;  his 
temporal  existence  is  only  a  past  one — i.e.,  it  exists  only  in 
mental  conception.  And  since  the  Divine  existence  on  earth 
is  essentially  of  a  spiritual  character,  it  cannot  appear  in  the 
form  of  a  Dalai-Lama.  The  Pope,  however  high  his  position 
as  Head  of  Christendom  and  Vicar  of  Christ,  calls  himself 
only  the  Servant  of  Servants.  How  then  did  the  Church 
realize  Christ  as  a  definite  and  present  existence?  The  prin- 
cipal form  of  this  realization  was,  as  remarked  above,  the 
Holy  Supper,  in  the  form  it  presented  as  the  Mass :  in  this 
the  Life,  Suffering,  and  Death  of  the  actual  Christ  was 
verily  present,  as  an  eternal  and  daily  repeated  sacrifice. 
Christ  appears  as  a  definite  and  present  existence  in  a 
tsensuous  form  as  the  Host,  consecrated  by  the  Priest ;  so 
far  all  is  satisfactory :  that  is  to  say,  it  is  the  Church,  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  that  attains  in  this  ordinance  direct  and  full 
assurance.  But  the  most  prominent  feature  in  this  sacra- 
ment is,  that  the  process  by  which  Deity  is  manifested,  is 
conditioned  by  the  limitations  of  particularity — that  the 
Host,  this  Thing,  is  set  up  to  be  adored  as  Grod.  The 
Church  then  might  have  been  able  to  content  itself  with  this 
sensuous  presence  of  Deity ;  *oit  when  it  is  once  granted 
that  God  exists  in  external  p-K.-nemenal  presence,  this  ex- 


SECT.  II.   THE  MIDDLE  AGES.- -THE  CRUSADES.   407 

ternal  manifestation  immediately  becomes  infinitely  varied  ; 
for  the  need  of  this  presence  is  infinite.  Thus  innumerable 
instances  will  occur  in  the  experience  of  the  Church,  in 
which  Christ  has  appeared  to  one  and  another,  in  various 
places  ;  and  still  more  frequently  his  divine  Mother,  who  as 
standing  nearer  to  humanity,  is  a  second  mediator  between 
the  Mediator  and  man  (the  miracle-working  images  of  the 
Virgin  are  in  their  way  Hosts,  since  they  supply  a  benign 
and  gracious  presence  of  God).  In  all  places,  therefore, 
there  will  occur  manifestations  of  the  Heavenly,  in  specially 
gracious  appearances,  the  stigmata  of  Christ's  Passion,  <fec. ; 
and  the  Divine  will  be  realized  in  miracles  as  detached  and 
isolated  phenomena.  In  the  period  in  question  the  Church 
presents  the  aspect  of  a  world  of  miracle ;  to  the  community 
of  devout  and  pious  persons  natural  existence  has  utterly 
lost  its  stability  and  certainty:  rather,  absolute  certainty 
has  turned  against  it,  and  the  Divine  is  not  conceived  of 
by  Christendom  under  conditions  of  universality  as  the  law 
and  nature  of  Spirit,  but  reveals  itself  in  isolated  and  de- 
tached phenomena,  in  which  the  rational  form  of  existence 
is  utterly  perverted. 

In  this  complete  development  of  the  Church,  we  may  find 
a  deficiency :  but  what  can  be  felt  as  a  want  by  it  ?  What 
compels  it,  in  this  state  of  perfect  satisfaction  and  enjoy- 
ment, to  wish  for  something  else  within  the  limits  of  its  own 
principles  —without  apostatizing  from  itself  ?  Those  mira- 
culous images,  places,  and  times,  are  only  isolated  points, 
momentary  appearances, — are  not  an  embodiment  of  "Deity, 
not  of  the  highest  and  absolute  kind.  The  Host,  the  supreme 
manifestation,  is  to  be  found  indeed  in  innumerable  churches; 
Christ  is  therein  transubstantiated  to  a  present  and  parti- 
cular existence :  but  this  itself  is  of  a  vague  and  general 
character ;  it  is  not  his  actual  and  very  presence  as  particu- 
larized in  Space.  That  presence  has  passed  away,  as  regards 
time;  but  as  spatial  and  as  concrete  in  space  it  has  a  mundane 
permanence  in  this  particular  spot,  this  particular  village,  &c. 
It  is  then  this  mundane  existence  [in  Palestine]  which 
Christendom  desiderates,  which  it  is  resolved  on  attaining. 
Pilgrims  in  crowds  had  indeed  been  able  to  enjoy  it ;  but 
the  approach  to  the  hallowed  localities  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
Infidels,  and  it  is  a  reproach  to  Christendom  that  the  Holy 


PART    IV.       THE    GERMAN    WORLD. 

Places  and  the  Sepulchre  of  Christ  in  particular  are  not  in 
possession  of  the  Church.  In  this  feeling  Christendom  was 
united  ;  consequently  the  Crusades  were  undertaken,  whose 
object  was  not  the  furtherance  of  any  special  interests  on 
the  part  of  the  several  states  that  engaged  in  them,  but 
simply  and  solely  the  conquest  of  the  Holy  Land. 

The  West  once  more  sallied  forth  in  hostile  array  against 
the  East.  As  in  the  expedition  of  the  Greeks  against  Troy, 
BO  here,  the  invading  hosts  were  entirely  composed  of  inde- 
pendent feudal  lords  and  knights ;  though  they  were  not 
united  under  a  real  individuality,  as  were  the  Greeks  under 
Agamemnon  or  Alexander.  Christendom,  on  the  contrary, 
was  engaged  in  an  undertaking  whose  object  was  the  securing 
of  the  definite  and  present  existence  [of  Deity] — the  real 
culmination  of  Individuality.  This  object  impelled  the  West 
against  the  East,  and  this  is  the  essential  interest  of  the 
Crusades. 

The  first  and  immediate  commencement  of  the  Crusades 
was  made  in  the  West  itself.  Many  thousands  of  Jews  were 
massacred,  and  their  property  seized  ;  and  after  this  terrible 
prelude  Christendom  began  its  inarch.  The  monk,  Peter 
the  Hermit  of  Amiens,  led  the  way  with  an  immense  troop 
of  rabble.  This  host  passed  in  the  greatest  disorder  through 
Hungary,  and  robbed  and  plundered  as  they  went ;  but  their 
numbers  dwindled  away,and  only  afewreached  Constantinople. 
For  rational  considerations  were  out  of  the  question  ;  the  mass 
of  them  believed  that  God  would  be  their  immediate  guide  and 
protector.  The  most  striking  proof  that  enthusiasm  almost 
robbed  the  nations  of  Europe  of  their  senses,  is  supplied  by 
the  fact  that  at  a  later  time  troops  of  children  ran  away  from 
their  parents,  and  went  to  Marseilles,  there  to  take  ship  for 
the  Holy  Land.  Few  reached  it ;  the  rest  were  sold  by  the 
merchants  to  the  Saracens  as  slaves. 

At  last,  with  much  trouble  and  immense  loss,  more  regular 
armies  attained  the  desired  object ;  they  beheld  themselves 
in  possession  of  all  the  Holy  Places  of  note — Bethlehemr 
Gethsemane,  Golgotha,  and  even  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  In 
the  whole  expedition, — in  all  the  acts  of  the  Christians, — 
appeared  that  enormous  contrast  (a  feature  characteristic  of 
the  a*je)  —  the  transition  on  the  part  of  the  Crusading  host 
from  the  greatest  excesses  and  outrages  to  the  prutbuudest 


SJ5CT.    11.       THE    MIDDLE    AGES. THE    CRUSADES.       409 

contrition  and  humiliation.  Still  dripping  with  the  blood  of 
the  slaughtered  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  the  Christians  fell 
down  on  their  faces  at  the  tomb  of  the  Redeemer,  and  di- 
rected their  fervent  supplications  to  him. 

Thus  did  Christendom  come  into  the  possession  of  its 
highest  good.  Jerusalem  was  made  a  kingdom,  and  the 
entire  feudal  system  was  introduced  there — a  constitution 
which,  in  presence  of  the  Saracens,  was  certainly  the  worst 
that  could  be  adopted.  Another  crusade  in  the  year  1204 
resulted  in  the  conquest  of  Constantinople  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  Latin  Empire  there.  Christendom,  therefore, 
had  appeased  its  religious  craving ;  it  could  now  veritably 
walk  unobstructed  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Saviour.  Whole 
shiploads  of  earth  were  brought  from  the  Holy  Land  to 
Europe.  Of  Christ  himself  no  corporeal  relics  could  be 
obtained,  for  he  was  arisen :  the  Sacred  Handkerchief,  the 
Cross,  and  lastly  the  Sepulchre,  were  the  most  venerated 
memorials.  But  in  the  Grave  is  found  the  real  point  of 
retroversion ;  it  is  in  the  grave  that  all  the  vanity  of  the 
Sensuous  perishes.  At  the  Holy  Sepulchre  the  vanity  of 
[the  cherished]  opinion  passes  away  [the  fancies  by  which 
the  substance  of  truth  has  been  obscured  disappear] ;  there 
all  is  seriousness.  In  the  negation  of  that  definite  and  pre- 
sent embodiment — i.e.  of  the  Sensuous — it  is  that  the  turning- 
point  in  question  is  found,  and  those  words  have  an  ap- 
plication :  "  Thou  wouldst  not  suffer  thy  Holy  One  to  sec 
corruption."  Christendom  was  not  to  find  its  ultimatum 
of  truth  in  the  grave.  At  this  sepulchre  the  Christian 
world  received  a  second  time  the  response  given  to  the 
disciples  when  they  sought  the  body  of  the  Lord  there : 
"  Why  seek  ye  the  living  among  the  dead?  He  is  not  here, 
lut  is  risen."  You  must  not  look  for  the  principle  of  your 
religion  in  the  Sensuous,  in  the  grave  among  the  dead,  but 
in  the  living  Spirit  in  yourselves.  We  have  seen  how  the 
vast  idea  of  the  union  of  the  Finite  with  the  lufinite  was 
perverted  to  such  a  degree  as  that  men  looked  for  a  definite 
embodiment  of  the  Infinite  in  a  mere  isolated  outward  object 
[the  Host].  Christendom  found  the  empty  Sepulchre,  but 
not  the  union  of  the  Secular  and  the  Eternal ;  and  so  it  lost 
the  Holy  Land.  It  was  practically  undeceived ;  and  the 
result  which  it  brought  back  with  it  was  of  a  negative  kind : 


410  PART    IV.      THE    GERMAN    WOULD. 

viz.,  that  the  definite  embodiment  which  it  was  seeking,  wag 
to  be  looked  for  in  Subjective  Consciousness  alone,  and  in  no 
external  object;  that  the  definite  form  in  question,  presenting 
the  union  of  the  Secular  with  the  Eternal,  is  the  Spiritual 
self-cognizant  independence  of  the  individual.  Thus  the 
world  attains  the  conviction  that  man  must  look  within  him- 
self for  that  definite  embodiment  of  being  which  is  of  a  divine 
nature :  subjectivity  thereby  receives  absolute  authorization, 
and  claims  to  determine  for  itself  the  relation  [of  all  that 
exists]  to  the  Divine.*  This  then  was  the  absolute  result  of 
the  Crusades,  and  from  them  we  may  date  the  commencement 
of  self-reliance  and  spontaneous  activity.  The  West  bade 
an  eternal  farewell  to  the  East  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  and 
gained  a  comprehension  of  its  own  principle  of  subjective 
infinite  Freedom.  Christendom  never  appeared  again  on 
the  scene  of  history  as  one  body. 

Crusades  of  another  kind,  bearing  somewhat  the  character 
of  wars  with  a  view  to  mere  secular  conquest,  but  which 
imvolved  a  religious  interest  also,  were  the  contests  waged 
by  Spain  against  the  Saracens  in  the  peninsula  itself.  The 
Christians  had  been  shut  up  in  a  corner  by  the  Arabs ;  but 
they  gained  upon  their  adversaries  in  strength,  because  the 
Saracens  in  Spain  and  Africa  were  engaged  in  war  in 
various  directions,  and  were  divided  among  themselves.  The 
Spaniards,  united  with  Frank  knights,  undertook  frequent 
expeditions  against  the  Suraceris ;  and  in  this  collision  of  the 
Christians  with  the  chivalry  of  the  East — with  its  freedom 
and  perfect  independence  of  soul — the  former  became  also 
partakers  in  this  freedom.  Spain  gives  us  the  fairest  pic- 
ture of  the  knighthood  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  its  hero  is 
the  Cid.  Several  Crusades,  the  records  of  which  excite  our 
unmixed  loathing  and  detestation,  were  undertaken  against 
the  South  of  France  also.  There  an  esthetic  culture  had  de- 
veloped itself:  the  Troubadours  had  introduced  a  freedom  of 
manners  similar  to  that  which  prevailed  under  the  liohen- 
staufen  Emperors  in  Germany ;  but  with  this  difference,  that 
the  former  had  in  it  something  affected,  while  the  latter  was  of 
a  more  genuine  kind.  But  as  in  Upper  Italy,  so  also  in  the 

*  All  human  actions,  projects,  institutions,  &c.  begin  to  be  brought  to 
the  bar  of  "  principle  " — the  sanctum  of  subjectivity — for  absolute  decision 
oti  their  merits,  instead  of  being  referred  to  an  extraneous  authority. — Tit 


SECT.    II.       THE    MIDDLE    AGES. -THE    CRTTSADEB.      411 

South  of  France  fanatical  ideas  of  purity  had  been  intro- 
duced ;  *  a  Crusade  was  therefore  preached  against  that 
country  by  Papal  authority.  St.  Dominic  entered  it  with 
a  vast  host  of  invaders,  who,  in  the  most  barbarous  manner, 
pillaged  and  murdered  the  innocent  and  the  guilty  indis- 
criminately, and  utterly  laid  waste  the  fair  region  which  they 
inhabited. 

Through  the  Crusades  the  Church  reached  the  completion 
of  its  authority  :  it  had  achieved  the  perversion  of  religion 
and  of  the  divine  Spirit ;  it  had  distorted  the  principle  of 
Christian  Freedom  to  a  wrongful  and  immoral  slavery  of 
men's  souls ;  and  in  so  doing,  far  from  abolishing  lawless 
caprice  and  violence  and  supplanting  them  by  a  virtuous 
rule  of  its  own,  it  had  even  enlisted  them  in  the  service 
of  ecclesiastical  authority.  In  the  Crusades  the  Pope  stood 
at  the  head  of  the  secular  power :  the  Emperor  appeared 
only  in  a  subordinate  position,  like  the  other  princes,  and 
was  obliged  to  commit  both  the  initiative  and  the  executive 
to  the  Pope,  as  the  manifest  generalissimo  of  the  expedition. 
We  have  already  seen  the  noble  house  of  Hohenstaufen 
presenting  the  aspect  of  chivalrous,  dignified  and  cultivated 
opponents  of  the  Papal  power,  when  Spirit  [the  moral  and 
intellectual  element  in  Christendom]  had  given  up  the 
contest.  We  have  seen  how  they  were  ultimately  obliged 
to  yield  to  the  Church ;  which,  elastic  enough  to  sustain  any 
attack,  bore  down  all  opposition  and  would  not  move  a  step 
towards  conciliation.  The  fall  of  the  Church  was  not  to  be 
effected  by  open  violence ;  it  was  from  within, — by  the  power 
of  Spirit  and  by  an  influence  that  wrought  its  way  upwards, — 
that  ruin  threatened  it.  Respect  for  the  Papacy  could  not 
but  be  weakened  by  the  very  fact  that  the  lofty  aim  of  the 
Crusades— the  satisfaction  expected  from  the  enjoyment  of 
the  sensuous  Presence — was  not  attained.  As  little  did  the 
Popes  succeed  in  keeping  possession  of  the  Holy  Land. 
Zeal  for  the  holy  cause  was  exhausted  among  the  princes  of 
Europe.  Grieved  to  the  heart  by  the  defeat  of  the  Chris- 
tians, the  Popes  again  and  again  urged  them  to  advance  to 
the  rescue  ;  but  lamentations  and  entreaties  were  vain,  and 

*  The  term  "  Cathari "  (KaSrnpoi)  Purists,  was  one  of  the  most  general 
designations   of  the   disgiden*.    sects    in    question.      The  German   word 
=shei'rtw  is  by  aomr  derived  from  it.— Tft. 


PART    IV.       THE    OELlttAA     WOULD 

they  could  effect  nothing.  Spirit,  disappointed  with  regard 
to  its  craving  for  the  highest  form  of  the  sensuous  presence 
of  Deity,  fell  back  upon  itself.  A  rupture,  the  first  of  its 
kind  and  profound  as  it  was  novel,  took  place.  From  this 
time  forward  we  witness  religious  and  intellectual  move- 
ments in  which  Spirit,— transcending  the  repulsive  and  irra- 
tional existence  by  which  it  is  surrounded, — either  iinds  its 
sphere  of  exercise  within  itself,  and  draws  upon  its  own  re- 
sources for  satisfaction,  or  throws  its  energies  into  an  actual 
world  of  general  and  morally  justified  aims,  which  aro 
therefore  aims  consonant  with  Freedom.  The  efforts  thus 
originated  are  now  to  be  described :  they  were  the  means  by 
which  Spirit  was  to  be  prepared  to  comprehend  the  grand 
purpose  of  its  Freedom  in  a  form  of  greater  purity  and  moral 
elevation. 

To  this  class  of  movements  belongs  in  the  first  place  the 
establishment  of  monastic  and  chivalric  orders,  designed  to 
carry  out  those  rules  of  life  which  the  Churcli  had  distinctly 
enjoined  upon  its  members.  That  renunciation  of  property, 
riches,  pleasures,  and  free  will,  which  the  Church  had  desig- 
nated as  the  highest  of  spiritual  attainments,  was  to  be  a 
reality — not  a  mere  profession.  The  existing  monastic  and 
other  institutions  that  had  adopted  this  vow  of  renunciation, 
had  been  entirely  sunk  in  the  corruption  of  worldliness.  But 
now  Spirit  sought  to  realize  in  the  sphere  of  the  principle  of 
negativity — purely  in  itself — what  the  Church  had  demanded. 
The  more  immediate  occasion  of  this  movement  was  the  rise 
of  numerous  heresies  in  the  South  of  France  and  Italy,  whose 
tendency  was  in  the  direction  of  enthusiasm  ;  and  the  un- 
belief which  was  now  gaining  ground,  but  which  the  Church 
justly  deemed  not  so  dangerous  as  tho.se  heresies.  To  counter- 
act these  evils,  new  monastic  orders  were  founded,  the  chivf 
of  which  was  that  of  the  Franciscans,  or  Mendicant  Friar;-, 
whose  founder,  St.  Francis  of  Assisi, — a  man  possessed  by 
an  enthusiasm  and  extatic  passion  that  passed  all  bounds, — 
spent  his  life  in  continually  striving  for  the  loftiest  purity. 
He  gave  an  impulse  of  the  same  kind  to  his  order ;  the  great- 
est fervour  of  devotion,  the  saciifice  of  all  pleasures  in  con- 
travention of  the  prevailing  worldiiness  of  the  Church,  con- 
tinual penances,  the  severest  poverty  (the  Franciscans  lived 
on  daily  alms) — were  therefore  peculiarly  characteristic  of  it. 


SECT.    IT.       THE    MIDDLE    1GES.— THE    CBbSADES.      413 

Contemporaneously  with  it  arose  the  Dominican  order, 
founded  by  St.  Dominic ;  its  special  business  was  preaching. 
The  mendicant  friars  were  diffused  through  Christendom  to 
an  incredible  extent ;  they  were,  on  the  one  hand,  the  stand- 
ing apostolic  army  of  the  Pope,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
strongly  protested  against  his  worldliness.  The  Franciscans 
were  powerful  allies  of  Louis  of  Bavaria  in  his'  resistance  of 
the  Papal  assumptions,  and  they  are  said  to  have  been  the 
authors  of  the  position,  that  a  General  Council  was  higher 
authority  than  the  Pope  ;  but  subsequently  they  too  sank 
down  into  a  torpid  and  unintelligent  condition.  In  the  same 
way  the  ecclesiastical  Orders  of  Knighthood  contemplated 
the  attainment  of  purity  of  Spirit.  We  have  already  called 
attention  to  the  peculiar  chivalric  spirit  which  had  been 
developed  in  Spain  through  the  struggle  with  the  Saracens  : 
the  same  spirit  was  diffused  as  the  result  of  the  Crusades 
through  the  whole  of  Europe.  The  ferocity  and  savage 
valour  that  characterized  the  predatory  life  of  the  barbarians 
— pacified  and  brought  to  a  settled  state  by  possession,  and 
restrained  by  the  presence  of  equals— was  elevated  by  reli- 
gion and  then  kindled  to  a  noble  enthusiasm  through  con- 
templating the  boundless  magnanimity  of  Oriental  prowess. 
For  Christianity  also  contains  the  element  of  boundless  ab- 
straction and  freedom ;  the  Oriental  chivalric  spirit  found 
therefore  in  Occidental  hearts  a  response,  which  paved  the 
way  for  their  attaining  a  nobler  virtue  than  they  had  pre- 
viously known.  Ecclesiastical  orders  of  knighthood  were  in- 
stituted on  a  basis  resembling  that  of  the  monastic  fraterni- 
ties. The  same  conventual  vow  of  renunciation  was  imposed 
on  their  members — the  giving  up  of  all  that  was  worldly.  But 
at  the  same  time  they  undertook  the  defence  of  the  pilgrims: 
their  first  duty  therefore  was  knightly  bravery  ;  ultimately, 
they  were  also  pledged  to  the  sustenance  and  care  of  the 
poor  and  the  sick.  The  Orders  of  Knighthood  were  divided 
into  three :  that  of  St.  John,  that  of  the  Temple,  and  the 
Teutonic  Order.  These  associations  are  essentially  distin- 
guished from  the  self-seeking  principle  of  feudalism.  Their 
members  sacrificed  themselves  with  almost  suicidal  bravery 
for  a  common  interest.  Thus  these  Orders  transcended 
the  circle  of  their  immediate  environment,  and  formed  a 
network  of  fraternal  coalition  over  the  whole  of  Europe. 


PART    IV.       THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

But  their  members  sank  down  to  the  le^el  of  vulgar  interests, 
and  the  Orders  becan  e  in  the  sequel  a  provisional  institute 
for  the  nobility  generally,  rather  than  anything  else.  The 
Order  of  the  Temple  was  even  accused  of  forming  a  religion 
of  its  own,  and  of  having  renounced  Christ  in  the  creed  which, 
under  the  influence  of  the  Oriental  Spirit,  it  had  adopted. 

A  second  impulsion,  having  a  similar  origin,  was  that  in 
the  direction  of  Science.  The  development  of  Thought — the 
abstractly  Universal — now  had  its  commencement.  Those 
fraternal  associations  themselves,  having  a  common  object, 
in  whose  service  their  members  were  enlisted,  point  to  the 
fact  that  a  general  principle  was  beginning  to  be  recognized, 
and  which  gradually  became  conscious  of  its  power.  Thought 
was  first  directed  to  Theology,  which  now  became  Philosophy 
under  the  name  of  Scholastic  Divinity.  For  philosophy  and 
theology  have  the  Divine  as  their  common  object ;  and 
although  the  theology  of  the  Church  was  a  stereotyped 
dogma,  the  impulse  now  arose  to  justify  this  body  of  doc- 
trine in  the  view  of  Thought.  "  When  we  have  arrived  at 
Faith,"  says  the  celebrated  scholastic,  Anselm,  "  it  is  a  piece 
of  negligence  to  stop  short  of  convincing  ourselves,  by  the 
aid  of  Thought,  of  that  to  which  we  have  given  credence." 
But  thus  conditioned  Thought  was  not  free,  for  its  material 
was  already  posited  db  extra :  it  was  to  the  proof  of  this  ma- 
terial that  philosophy  devoted  its  energies.  But  Thought  sug- 
gested a  variety  of  questions,  the  complete  answer  to  which 
was  not  given  directly  in  the  symbols  of  the  Church  ;  and 
since  the  Church  had  not  decided  respecting  them,  they 
were  legitimate  subjects  of  controversy.  Philosophy  was 
indeed  called  an  ancillajidei,  for  it  was  in  subjection  to  that 
material  of  the  Church's  creed,  which  had  been  already 
definitely  settled ;  but  yet  it  was  impossible  for  the  oppo- 
sition between  Thought  and  Belief  not  to  manifest  itself. 
As  Europe  presented  the  spectacle  of  chivalric  contests 
generally  —  passages  of  arms  and  tournaments — it  was  now 
the  theatre  for  intellectual  jousting  also  It  is  incredible  to 
what  an  extent  the  abstract  forms  of  Thought  were  developed, 
and  what  dexterity  was  acquired  in  the  use  of  them.  This 
intellectual  tourneying  for  the  sake  of  exhibiting  skill,  and 
as  a  diversion  (for  it  was  not  the  doctrines  themselves,  but 
only  the  forms  in  which  they  were  couched  that  made  the 


SECT.  II.     MIDDLE  AGES.— TBAFS1TION  TO  MONARCHY.    415 

subject  of  debate),  was  chiefly  prosecuted  and  brought  to 
perfection  in  France.  France,  in  fact,  began  at  that  time  to 
be  regarded  as  the  centre  of  Christendom :  there  the  scheme 
of  the  first  Crusades  originated,  and  French  armies  carried 
it  out :  there  the  Popes  took  refuge  in  their  struggles  with 
the  German  emperors  and  with  the  Norman  princes  of 
Naples  and  Sicily,  and  there  for  a  time  they  made  a  con- 
tinuous sojourn.  —  We  also  observe  in  the  period  subsequent 
to  the  Crusades,  commencements  of  Art — of  Painting,  viz. : 
even  during  their  continuance  a  peculiar  kind  of  poetry  had 
made  its  appearance.  Spirit,  unable  to  satisfy  its  cravings, 
created  for  itself  by  imagination  fairer  forms  and  in  a  calmer 
and  freer  manner  than  the  actual  world  could  offer. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  TRANSITION  FROM  FEUDALISM  TO  MONARCHY. 

THE  moral  phenomena  above  mentioned,  tending  in  the 
direction  of  a  general  principle,  were  partly  of  a  subjective, 
partly  of  a  speculative  order.  But  we  must  now  give  par- 
ticular attention  to  the  practical  political  movements  of  the 
period.  The  advance  which  that  period  witnessed,  presents 
a  negative  aspect  in  so  far  as  it  involves  the  termination  of 
the  sway  of  individual  caprice  and  of  the  isolation  of  power. 
Its  affirmative  aspect  is  the  rise  of  a  supreme  authority 
whose  dominion  embraces  all — a  political  power  properly 
so  called,  whose  subjects  enjoy  an  equality  of  rights,  and 
in  which  the  will  of  the  individual  is  subordinated  to 
that  common  interest  which  underlies  the  whole.  This  is 
the  advance  from  Feudalism  to  Monarchy.  The  principle  of 
feudal  sovereignty  is  the  outward  force  of  individuals — 
princes,  liege  lords  ;  it  is  a  force  destitute  of  intrinsic  right. 
The  subjects  of  such  a  Constitution  are  vassals  of  a  superior 
prince  or  seignaur,  to  whom  they  have  stipulated  duties  to 
perform  :  but  whether  they  perform  these  duties  or  not, 
depends  upon  the  seigneur's  being  able  to  induce  them  so  to 
do,  by  force  of  character  or  by  grant  of  favours: — con- 
versely, the  recognition  of  those  feudal  claims  themselves  was 
extorted  by  violence  in  the  first  instance ;  and  the  fulfilment 


PART    IV.       THE    GERMAN   WOB^D. 

of  the  corresponding  duties  could  be  secured  only  by  the 
constant  exercise  of  the  power  which  was  the  sole  basis  of 
the  claims  in  question.  The  monarchical  principle  also  im- 
plies a  supreme  authority,  but  it  is  an  authority  over  persons 
possessing  no  independent  power  to  support  their  individual 
caprice;  where  we  have  no  longer  caprice  opposed  to  caprice  ; 
for  the  supremacy  implied  in  monarchy  is  essentially  a  power 
emanating  from  a  political  body,  and  is  pledged  to  the  fur- 
therance of  that  equitable  purpose  on  which  the  constitution 
of  a  state  is  based.  Feudal  sovereignty  is  a  polyarchy :  we 
see  nothing  but  Lords  and  Serfs ;  in  Monarchy,  on  the  con- 
trary, there  is  one  Lord  and  no  Serf,  for  servitude  is  abro- 
gated by  it,  and  in  it  Right  and  Law  are  recognized  ;  it  is 
the  source  of  real  freedom.  Thus  in  monarchy  the  caprice 
of  individuals  is  kept  under,  and  a  common  gubernatorial 
interest  established.  In  the  suppression  of  those  isolated 
powers,  as  also  in  the  resistance  made  to  that  suppression, 
it  seems  doubtful  whether  the  desire  for  a  lawful  and 
equitable  state  of  things,  or  the  wish  to  indulge  individual 
caprice,  is  the  impelling  motive.  Resistance  to  kingly 
authority  is  entitled  Liberty,  and  is  lauded  as  legitimate  and 
noble  when  the  idea  of  arbitrary  will  is  associated  with  that 
authority.  But  by  the  arbitrary  will  of  an  individual  exert- 
ing itself  so  as  to  subjugate  a  whole  body  of  men,  a  com- 
munity is  formed ;  and  comparing  this  state  of  things  with 
that  in  which  every  point  is  a  centre  of  capricious  violence, 
we  find  a  much  smaller  number  of  points  exposed  to  such 
violence.  The  great  extent  of  such  a  sovereignty  necessi- 
tates general  arrangements  for  the  purposes  of  organization, 
and  those  who  govern  in  accordance  with  those  arrange- 
ments are  at  the  same  time,  in  virtue  of  their  office  itself, 
obedient  to  the  state :  Vassals  become  Officers  of  State, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  execute  the  laws  by  which  the  state  is 
regulated.  But  since  this  monarchy  is  developed  from  feu- 
dalism, it  bears  in  the  first  instance  the  stamp  of  the  system 
from  which  it  spraiig.  Individuals  quit  their  isolated  capa- 
city and  become  members  of  Estates  [or  Orders  of  the 
Realm]  and  Corporations ;  the  vassals  are  powerful  only  by 
combination  as  an  Order ;  in  contraposition  to  them  the  cities 
constitute  Powers  in  virtue  of  their  communal  existence. 
Thus  the  authority  of  the  sovereign  inevitably  ceases  to  be 


SECT.  H.     MIDDLE  AGES. — THANSITIOW  TO  MONARCHY.    417 

mere  arbitrary  sway.  The  consent  of  the  Estates  and  Cor- 
porations is  essential  to  its  maintenance ;  and  if  the  prince 
wishes  to  have  that  consent,  he  must  will  what  is  just  and 
reasonable. 

We  now  see  a  Constitution  embracing  various  Orders, 
while  Feudal  rule  knows  no  such  Orders.  "We  observe  the 
transition  from  feudalism  to  monarchy  taking  place  in  three 
ways : 

1.  Sometimes  the  lord  paramount  gains  a  mastery  over 
his   independent   vassals,   by   subjugating   their   individual 
power, — thus  making  himself  sole  ruler. 

2.  Sometimes  the  princes  free  themselves  from  the  feudal 
relation   altogether,   and   become    the   territorial    lords   of 
certain  states  ;  or  lastly 

3.  The  lord   paramount  unites  the  particular  lordships 
that  own   him   as  their   superior,  with  his  own  particular 
suzerainty,  in  a  more  peaceful  way,  and.  thus  becomes  master 
of  the  whole. 

These  processes  do  not  indeed  present  themselves  in 
history  in  that  pure  and  abstract  form  in  which  they  are 
exhibited  here  :  often  we  find  more  modes  than  one  appear- 
ing contemporaneously ;  but  one  or  the  other  always  pre- 
dominates. The  cardinal  consideration  is  that  the  basis  and 
essential  condition  of  such  a  political  formation  is  to  be 
looked  for  in  the  particular  nationalities  in  which  it  had 
its  birth.  Europe  presents  particular  nations,  constituting 
a  unity  in  their  very  nature,  and  having  the  absolute  ten- 
dency to  form  a  state.  All  did  not  succeed  in  attaining 
this  political  unity  :  we  have  now  to  consider  them  severally 
in  relation fto  the  change  thus  introduced. 

First,  as  regards  the  Eoman  empire,  the  connection 
between  Germany  and  Italy  naturally  results  from  the  idea 
of  that  empire:  the  secular  dominion  united  with  the 
spiritual  was  to  constitute  one  whole;  but  this  state  of 
things  was  rather  the  object  of  constant  struggle  than  one 
actually  attained.  In  Germany  and  Italy  the  transition  from 
the  feudal  condition  to  monarchy  involved  the  entire  abro- 
gation of  the  former :  the  vassals  became  independent 
monarchs. 

Q-ermany  had  always  embraced  a  great  variety  of  stocks : — 
Swabians,  Bavarians,  Franks,  Thuringians,  Saxons,  Burgun- 

2  E 


418  PART    IV.      THE    GERMAN    WORLD. 

dians :  to  these  must  be  added  the  Sclaves  of  Bohemia,  Ger- 
manized Sclaves  in  Mecklenburg,  in  Brandenburg,  and  in  a 
part  of  Saxony  and  Austria ;  so  that  no  such  combination  as 
took  place  in  France  was  possible.  Italy  presented  a  similar 
state  of  things.  The  Lombards  had  established  themselves 
there,  while  the  Greeks  still  possessed  the  Exarchate  and 
Lower  Italy  :  the  Normans  too  established  a  kingdom  of 
their  own  in  Lower  Italy,  and  the  Saracens  maintained  their 
ground  for  a  time  in  Sicily.  When  the  rule  of  the  house  of 
Hohenstaufen  was  terminated,  barbarism  got  the  upper 
hand  throughout  Germany ;  the  country  being  broken  up 
into  several  sovereignties,  in  which  a  forceful  despotism  pre- 
vailed. It  was  the  maxim  of  the  electoral  princes  to  raise 
only  weak  princes  to  the  imperial  throne  ;  they  even  sold 
the  imperial  dignity  to  foreigners.  Thus  the  unity  of  the 
state  was  virtually  annulled.  A  number  of  centres  of  power 
were  formed,  each  of  which  was  a  predatory  state :  the  legal 
constitution  recognized  by  feudalism  was  dissolved,  and  gave 
place  to  undisguised  violence  and  plunder;  and  powerful 
princes  made  themselves  lords  of  the  country.  After  tho 
interregnum  the  Count  of  Hapsburg  was  elected  Emperor, 
and  the  House  of  Hapsburg  continued  to  fill  the  imperial 
throne  with  but  little  interruption.  These  emperors  were 
obliged  to  create  a  force  of  their  own,  as  the  princes  would 
not  grant  them  an  adequate  power  attached  to  the  empire. 
But  that  state  of  absolute  anarchy  was  at  last  put  an  end  to 
by  associations  having  general  aims  in  view.  In  the  cities 
themselves  we  see  associations  of  a  minor  order ;  but  now 
confederations  of  cities  were  formed  with  a  common  interest 
in  the  suppression  of  predatory  violence.  Of  this  kind  was 
the  Hanseatic  League  in  the  North,  the  Rhenish  League 
consisting  of  cities  lying  along  the  Khine,  and  the  Swabian 
League.  The  aim  of  all  these  confederations  was  resistance 
to  the  feudal  lords  ;  and  even  princes  united  with  the  cities, 
with  a  view  to  the  subversion  of  the  feudal  condition  and 
tbe  restoration  of  a  peaceful  state  of  things  throughout  the 
country.  What  the  state  of  society  was  under  feudal  sove- 
reignty is  evident  from  the  notorious  association  formed  for 
executing  criminal  justice :  it  was  a  private  tribunal,  which, 
under  the  name  of  the  Vehmyericht,  held  secret  sittings  ;  its 
chief  seat  was  the  north-west  of  Germany.  A  peculiar 


SECT.  II.     MIDDLE  AGES. — TRANSITION  TO  MONARCHY.   419 

peasant  association  was  also  formed.  In  Germany  llie 
peasants  were  bondmen  ;  many  of  them  took  refuge  in  the 
towns,  or  settled  down  as  freemen  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  towns  (Pfahlburger)  ;  but  in  Switzerland  a  peasant 
fraternity  was  established.  The  peasants  of  Uri,  Schwyz, 
and  Unterwalden  were  under  imperial  governors ;  for  the 
Swiss  governments  were  not  the  property  of  private  pos- 
sessors, but  were  official  appointments  of  the  Empire.  These 
the  sovereigns  of  the  Hapsburg  line  wished  to  secure  to  their 
own  house.  The  peasants,  with  club  and  iron-studded  mace 
[Morgenstern],  returned  victorious  from  a  contest  with  the 
haughty  steel-clad  nobles,  armed  with  spear  and  sword,  and 
practised  in  the  chivalric  encounters  of  the  tournament. 
Another  invention  also  tended  to  deprive  the  nobility  of  the 
ascendancy  which  they  owed  to  their  accoutrements, — that  of 
gunpowder.  Humanity  needed  it,  and  it  made  its  appear- 
ance forthwith.  It  was  one  of  the  chief  instruments  in  freeing 
the  world  from  the  dominion  of  physical  force,  and  placing 
the  various  orders  of  society  on  a  level.  "With  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  weapons  they  used,  vanished  also  that 
between  lords  and  serfs.  And  before  gun  powder  fortifiedplaces 
were  no  longer  impregnable,  so  that  strongholds  and  castles 
now  lose  their  importance.  We  may  indeed  be  led  to  lament 
the  decay  or  the  depreciation  of  the  practical  value  of  per- 
sonal valour — tjie  bravest,  the  noblest  may  be  shot  down 
by  a  cowardly  wretch  at  safe  distance  in  an  obscure  lurking 
place  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  gunpowder  has  made  a 
rational,  considerate  bravery — Spiritual  valour — the  essential 
to  martial  success.  Only  through  this  instrumentality 
could  that  superior  order  of  valour  be  called  forth — that 
valour  in  which  the  heat  of  personal  feeling  has  no  share  j 
for  the  discharge  of  fire-arms  is  directed  against  a  body  of 
men — an  abstract  enemy,  not  individual  combatants.  The 
warrior  goes  to  meet  deadly  peril  calmly,  sacrificing  himself 
for  the  common  weal ;  and  the  valour  of  cultivated  nations  ia 
characterized  by  the  very  fact,  that  it  does  not  rely  on  the 
strong  arm  alone,  but  places  its  confidence  essentially  in  the 
intelligence,  the  generalship,  the  character  of  its  commanders; 
and,  as  was  the  case  among  the  ancients,  in  a  firm  com- 
bination and  unity  of  spirit  on  the  part  of  the  forces  they 
command. 


420  PAltT    IV.       T1IE    tJEEMAN   WORLD. 

In  Italy,  as  already  noticed,  we  behold  the  same  spectacle 
as  in  Germany — the  attainment  of  an  independent  position 
by  isolated  centres  of  power.  In  that  country,  warfare  in 
the  hands  of  the  Condottieri  became  a  regular  business. 
The  towns  were  obliged  to  attend  to  their  trading  concerns, 
and  therefore  employed  mercenary  troops,  whose  leaders 
often  became  feudal  lords  ;  Francis  Sforza  even  made  himself 
Duke  of  Milan.  In  Florence,  the  Medici,  a  family  of  mer- 
chants, rose  tc  power.  On  the  other  hand,  the  larger  cities 
of  Italy  reduced  under  their  sway  several  smaller  ones  and 
iimny  feudal  chiefs.  A  Papal  territory  was  likewise  formed. 
There,  also,  a  very  large  number  of  feudal  lords  had  made 
themselves  independent ;  by  degrees  they  all  became  sub- 
ject to  the  one  sovereignty  of  the  Pope.  How  thoroughly 
equitable  in  the  view  of  social  morality  such  a  subjuga- 
tion was,  is  evident  from  Machiavelli's  celebrated  work 
'•  The  Prince."  This  book  has  often  been  thrown  aside  in 
disgust,  as  replete  with  the  maxims  of  the  most  revolting 
tyranny;  but  nothing  worse  can  be  urged  against  it  than 
that  the  writer,  having  the  profound  consciousness  of  the 
necessity  for  the  formation  of  a  State,  has  here  exhibited  the 
principles  on  which  alone  states  could  be  founded  in  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  times.  The  chiefs  who  asserted  an  isolated 
independence,  and  the  power  they  arrogated,  must  be  entirely 
subdued  ;  and  though  we  cannot  reconcile  with  our  idea  of 
Freedom,themeanswhichhe  proposes  as  the  only  efficient  ones, 
and  regards  as  perfectly  justifiable — inasmuch  as  they  involve 
the  most  reckless  violence,  all  kinds  of  deception,  assassina- 
tion, and  so  forth — we  must  nevertheless  confess  that  the 
feudal  nobility,  whose  power  was  to  be  subdued,  were  assail- 
able in  no  other  way,  since  an  indomitable  contempt  for 
principle,  and  an  utter  depravity  of  morals,  were  thoroughly 
engrained  in  them. 

In  France  we  find  the  converse  of  that  which  occurred  in 
Germany  and  Italy.  For  many  centuries  the  Kings  of 
France  possessed  only  a  very  small  domain,  so  that  many  of 
their  vassals  were  more  powerful  than  themselves :  but  it 
was  a  great  advantage  to  the  royal  dignity  in  France,  that 
the  principle  of  hereditary  monarchy  was  firmly  established 
there.  The  consideration  it  enjoyed  was  increased  by  the 
circumstance  that  the  corporations  and  cities  had  their  rights 


SECT.  II.     MIDDLE  AGES. — TKA.NSITIOH  TO  HONAECHY.    421 

and  privileges  confirmed  by  the  king,  and  that  the  appeals  to 
the  supreme  feudal  tribunal — the  Court  of  Peers,  consisting  of 
twelve  members  enjoying  that  dignity — became  increasingly 
frequent.  The  king's  influence  was  extended  by  his  afford  • 
ing  that  protection  which  only  the  throne  could  give.  But 
that  which  essentially  secured  respect  for  royalty,  even 
among  the  powerful  vassals,  was  the  increasing  personal 
power  of  the  sovereign.  In  various  ways,  by  inheritance, 
by  marriage,  by  force  of  arms,  &c.,  the  Kings  had  come  into 
possession  of  many  Earldoms  [Grafschaften]  and  several 
Duchies.  The  Dukes  of  Normandy  had,  however,  become 
Kings  of  England;  and  thus  a  formidable  power  confronted 
France,  whose  interior  lay  open  to  it  by  way  of  Normandy. 
Besides  this  there  were  powerful  Duchies  still  remaining  ; 
nevertheless,  the  King  was  not  a  mere  feudal  suzerain 
[Lehnsherr]  like  the  German  Emperors,  but  had  become  a 
territorial  possessor  [Landesherr]  :  he  had  a  number  of 
barons  and  cities  under  him,  who  were  subject  to  his  imme- 
diate jurisdiction ;  and  Louis  IX.  succeeded  in  rendering 
appeals  to  the  royal  tribunal  common  throughout  his  king- 
dom. The  towns  attained  a  position  of  greater  importance 
in  the  state.  For  when  the  king  needed  money,  and  all  his 
usual  resources — such  as  taxes  and  forced  contributions  of  all 
'iinds — were  exhausted,  he  made  application  to  the  towns  and 
entered  into  separate  negociations  with  them.  It  was  Phi- 
.ip  the  Fair  who,  in  the  year  1302,  first  convoked  the  depu- 
ties of  the  towns  as  a  Third  Estate  in  conjunction  with  the 
clergy  and  the  barons.  All  indeed  that  they  were  in  the 
first  instance  concerned  with  was  the  authority  of  the  sove- 
reign as  the  power  that  had  convoked  them,  and  the  raising 
of  taxes  as  the  object  of  their  convocation  ;  but  the  States 
nevertheless  secured  an  importance  and  weight  in  the  king- 
dom, and  as  the  natural  result,  an  influence  on  legislation 
also.  A  fact  which  is  particularly  remarkable  is  the  pro- 
clamation issued  by  the  kings  of  France,  giving  permission 
to  the  bondsmen  on  the  crown  lands  to  purchase  their  free- 
dom at  a  moderate  price.  In  the  way  we  have  indicated  the 
kings  of  France  very  soon  attained  great  power;  while  the 
flourishing  state  of  the  poetic  art  in  the  hands  of  the  Trouba- 
i-i^iii*  and  the  growth  of  the  scholastic  theology,  whose  es- 
pecial centre  was  Paris,  gave  France  a  culture  superior  to 


422  PART  iv.-    THE  GERMAN  «TORLD. 

that  of  the  other  European  states,  and  which  secured  the 
respect  of  foreign  nations. 

England,  as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  mention,  was 
subjugated  by  William  the  Conqueror,  Duke  of  Normandy. 
William  intrcduced  the  feudal  system  into  it,  and  divided 
the  kingdom  into  fiefs,  which  he  granted  almost  exclusively 
to  his  Norman  followers.  He  himself  retained  considerable 
crown  possessions ;  the  vassals  were  under  obligation  to 
perform  service  in  the  field,  and  to  aid  in  administering  jus- 
tice :  the  King  was  the  guardian  of  all  vassals  under  age ; 
they  could  not  marry  without  his  consent.  Only  by  degrees 
did  the  barons  and  the  towns  attain  a  position  of  importance. 
It  was  especially  in  the  disputes  arid  struggles  for  the  throne 
that  they  acquired  considerable  weight.  When  the  oppres- 
sive rule  and  fiscal  exactions  of  the  Kings  became  intolerable, 
contentions  and  even  war  ensued  :  the  barons  compelled 
King  John  to  swear  to  Magna  Charta,  the  basis  of  English 
liberty,  i.  e.  more  particularly  of  the  privileges  of  the  no- 
bility. Among  the  liberties  thus  secured,  that  which  con- 
cerns the  administration  of  justice  was  the  chief:  no  Eng- 
lishman was  to  be  deprived  of  personal  freedom,  property, 
or  life  without  the  judicial  verdict  of  his  peers.  Every  one, 
moreover,  was  to  be  entitled  to  the  free  disposition  of  his 
property.  Further,  the  King  was  to  impose  no  taxes  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  archbishops,  bishops,  earls,  and 
barons.  The  towns,  also,  favoured  by  the  Kings  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  barons,  soon  elevated  themselves  into  a  Third 
Estate  and  to  representation  in  the  Commons'  House  of 
Parliament.  Yet  the  King  was  always  very  powerful,  if  he 
possessed  strength  of  character :  his  crown  estates  procured 
for  him  due  consideration  ;  in  later  times,  however,  these 
were  gradually  alienated — given  away — so  that  the  King  was 
reduced  to  apply  for  subsidies  to  the  parliament. 

We  shall  not  pursue  the  minute  and  specifically  historic 
details  that  concern  the  incorporation  of  principalities  with 
states,  or  the  dissensions  and  contests  that  accompanied  such 
incorporations.  We  have  only  to  add  that  the  kings,  when 
by  weakening  the  feudal  constitution,  they  had  attained  a 
higher  degree  of  power,  began  to  use  that  power  against 
each  other  in  the  undisguised  interest  of  their  own  dominion. 
Thus  France  and  England  carried  on  wars  with  each  other 


SECT.  II.     MIDDLE  AGES.  —TRANSITION  TO  MONAKCHY.    423 

for  a  century.  The  kings  were  always  endeavouring  to  make 
foreign  conquests ;  the  towns,  which  had  the  largest  share  of 
the  burdens  and  expenses  of  such  wars,  were  opposed  to 
them,  and  in  order  to  placate  them  the  kings  granted  them 
important  privileges. 

The  Popes  endeavoured  to  make  the  disturbed  state  of 
society  to  which  each  of  these  changes  gave  rise,  an  occasion 
for  the  intervention  of  their  authority ;  but  the  interest  of 
the  growth  of  states  was  too  firmly  established  to  allow  them 
to  make  their  own  interest  of  absolute  authority  valid 
against  it.  Princes  and  peoples  were  indifferent  to  papal 
clamour  urging  them  to  new  crusades.  The  Emperor  Louis 
set  to  work  to  deduce  from  Aristotle,  the  Bible,  and  the 
Roman  Law  a  refutation  of  the  assumptions  of  the  Papal 
See  ;  and  the  electors  declared  at  the  Diet  held  at  Eense  in 
1338,  and  afterwards  still  more  decidedly  at  the  Imperial 
Diet  held  at  Frankfort,  that  they  would  defend  the  liberties 
and  hereditary  rights  of  the  Empire,  and  that  to  make  the 
choice  of  a  Roman  Emperor  or  King  valid,  no  papal  confir- 
mation was  needed.  So,  at  an  earlier  date,  1302,  on  occasion 
of  a  contest  between  Pope  Boniface  and  Philip  the  Fair, 
the  Assembly  of  the  States  convoked  by  the  latter  had 
offered  opposition  to  the  Pope.  For  states  and  communities 
had  arrived  at  the  consciousness  of  independent  moral 
worth. — Various  causes  had  united  to  weaken  the  papal 
authority:  the  Great  Schism  of  the  Church,  which  led 
men  to  doubt  the  Pope's  infallibility,  gave  occasion  to 
the  decisions  of  the  Councils  of  Constance  and  Basle, 
which  assumed  an  authority  superior  to  that  of  the  Pope, 
and  therefore  deposed  and  appointed  Popes.  The  numerous 
attempts  directed  against  the  ecclesiastical  system  confirmed 
the  necessity  of  a  reformation.  Arnold  of  Brescia,  Wick- 
liffe,  and  Huss  met  with  sympathy  in  contending  against 
the  dogma  of  the  papal  vicegerency  of  Christ,  and  the 
gross  'abuses  that  disgraced  the  hierarchy.  These  attempts 
were,  however,  only  partial  in  their,  scope.  On  the  one  hand 
the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  for  a  more  comprehensive  on- 
slaught ;  on  the  other  hand  the  assailants  in  question  did 
not  strike  at  the  heart  of  the  matter,  but  (especially  the  two 
latter)  attacked  the  teaching  of  the  Church  chiefly  with  the 
vreapons  of  erudition,  and  consequently  failed  to  excite  a 
deep  interest  among  the  people  at  large. 


PABT   IV.       THE    GERMAN    WOBLD. 

But  the  ecclesiastical  principle  had  a  more  dangerous  foe  in 
the  incipient  formation  of  political  organizations,  than  in  the 
antagonists  above  referred  to.  A  common  object,  an  aim 
intrinsically  possessed  of  perfect  moral  validity,*  presented 
itself  to  secularity  in  the  formation  of  states ;  and  to  this 
aim  of  community  the  will,  the  desire,  the  caprice  of  the 
individual  submitted  itself.  The  hardness  characteristic  of 
the  self-seeking  quality  of  "  Heart,"  maintaining  its  position 
of  isolation — the  knotty  heart  of  oak  underlying  the  na- 
tional temperament  of  the  Germans — was  broken  down  and 
mellowed  by  the  terrible  discipline  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
The  two  iron  rods  which  were  the  instruments  of  this 
discipline  were  the  Church  and  serfdom.  The  Church  drove 
the  "  Heart "  [Gremuth]  to  desperation — made  Spirit  pass 
through  the  severest  bondage,  so  that  the  soul  was  no  longer 
its  own  ;  but  it  did  not  degrade  it  to  Hindoo  torpor,  for 
Christianity  is  an  intrinsically  spiritual  principle  and,  as 
such,  has  a  boundless  elasticity.  In  the  same  way  serfdom, 
which  made  a  man's  body  not  his  own,  but  the  property  of 
another,  dragged  humanity  through  all  the  barbarism  of 
slavery  and  unbridled  desire,  and  the  latter  was  destroyed 
by  its  own  violence.  It  was  not  so  much  from  slavery  as 
through  slavery  that  humanity  was  emancipated.  For  bai- 
burism,  lust,  injustice  constitute  evil :  man,  bound  fast  in 
its  fetters,  is  unfit  for  morality  and  religiousness ;  and 
it  is  from  this  intemperate  and  ungovernable  state  of 
volition  that  the  discipline  in  question  emancipated  him. 
The  Church  fought  the  battle  with  the  violence  of  rude 
sensuality  in  a  temper  equally  wild  and  terroristic  with  that  of 
its  antagonist :  it  prostrated  the  latter  by  dint  of  the  terrors 
of  hell,  and  held  it  in  perpetual  subjection,  in  order  to  break 
down  the  spirit  of  barbarism  and  to  tame  it  into  repose. 
Theology  declares  that  every  man  has  this  struggle  to  pass 
through,  since  he  is  by  nature  evil,  and  only  by  passing 
through  a  state  of  mental  laceration  arrives  at  the  certainty 
of  Reconciliation.  But  granting  this,  it  must  on  the  other 
hand  be  maintained,  that  the  form  of  the  contest  is  very 
much  altered  when  the  conditions  of  its  commencement  are 
different,  and  when  that  reconciliation  has  had  an  actual  reali- 

*  That  is,  not  a  personal  aim,  whose  self-seeking  character  is  its  con- 
demnation, but  a  general  and  liberal,  consequently  a  mwal  aim. — TR. 


SECT.  II.     MIDDLE  AGES. — INFLUENCE  OF  ART,  ETC.    425 

zation.  The  path  of  torturous  discipline  is  in  that  case  dis- 
pensed with  (it  does  indeed  make  its  appearance  at  a  later 
date,  but  in  a  quite  different  form),  for  the  waking  up  of  con- 
sciousness finds  man  surrounded  by  the  element  of  a  moral 
state  of  society.  The  phase  of  negation  is  indeed,  a  neces- 
sary element  in  human  development,  but  it  has  now  assumed 
the  tranquil  form  of  education,  so  that  all  the  terrible  charac- 
teristics of  that  inward  struggle  vanish. 

Humanity  has  now  attained  the  consciousness  of  a  real 
internal  harmonization  of  Spirit,  and  a  good  conscience  in 
regard  to  actuality — to  secular  existence.  The  Human  Spirit 
has  come  to  stand  on  its  own  basis.  In  the  self-conscious- 
ness to  which  man  has  thus  advanced,  there  is  no  revolt 
against  the  Divine,  but  a  manifestation  of  that  better  sub- 
jectivity, which  recognizes  the  Divine  in  its  own  being ; 
which  is  imbued  with  the  Good  and  True,  and  which  directs 
its  activities  to  general  and  liberal  objects  bearing  the  stamp 
of  rationality  and  beauty. 


ART  AND  SCIENCE  AS  PUTTING  A  PERIOD  TO  THE 
MIDDLE  AGES. 

HUMANITY  beholds  its  spiritual  firmament  restored  to 
serenity.  "With  that  tranquil  settling  down  of  the  world 
into  political  order  which  we  have  been  contemplating,  was 
conjoined  an  exaltation  of  Spirit  to  a  nobler  grade  of 
humanity  in  a  sphere  involving  more  comprehensive  and 
concrete  interests  than  that  with  which  political  existence 
is  concerned.  The  Sepulchre — that  caput  mortuum  of  Spirit — 
and  the  Ultramundane  cease  to  absorb  human  attention. 
The  principle  of  a  specific  and  definite  embodiment  of  the 
Infinite — that  desideratum  which  urged  the  world  to  the 
Crusades,  now  developed  itself  in  a  quite  different  direc 
tion,  viz.  in  secular  existence  asserting  an  independent 
ground :  Spirit  made  its  embodiment  an  outward  one  and 
found  a  congenial  sphere  in  the  secular  life  thus  originated. 
The  Church,  however,  maintained  its  former  position,  and 
retained  the  principle  in  question  in  its  original  form.  Yet 
even  in  this  case,  that  principle  ceased  to  be  limited  to  a 
bare  outward  existence  [a  sacred  thing,  the  Host,  e.  g.~\  :  it 


426  PART   IV.      THE    QE11MAN   WOKLD. 

was  transformed  and  elevated  by  Art.  Art  spiritualizes,— 
animates  the  mere  outward  and  material  object  of  adoration 
with  a  form  which  expresses  soul,  sentiment,  Spirit ;  so  that 
piety  has  not  a  bare  sensuous  embodiment  of  the  Infinite  to 
contemplate,  and  does  not  lavish  its  devotion  on  a  mere 
Thing,  but  on  the  higher  element  with  which  the  material 
object  is  imbued — that  expressive  form  with  which  Spirit 
has  invested  it. — It  is  one  tiling  for  the  mind  to  have  before 
it  a  mere  Thing — such  as  the  Host  per  se,  a  piece  of  stone  or 
wood,  or  a  wretched  daub  ; — quite  another  thing  for  it  to 
contemplate  a  painting,  rich  in  thought  and  sentiment, 
or  a  beautiful  work  of  sculpture,  in  looking  at  which,  soul 
holds  converse  with  soul  and  Spirit  with  Spirit.  In  the  for- 
mer case,  Spirit  is  torn  from  its  proper  element,  bound  down 
to  something  utterly  alien  to  it — the  Sensuous,  the  Non- 
Spiritual.  In  the  latter,  on  the  contrary,  the  sensuous  ob- 
ject is  a  beautiful  one,  and  the  Spiritual  Form  with  which  it 
is  endued,  gives  it  a  soul  and  contains  truth  in  itself.  But 
on  the  one  hand,  this  element  of  truth  as  thus  exhibited,  is 
manifested  only  in  a  sensuous  mode,  not  in  its  appropriate 
form;  on  the  other  hand,  while  Religion  normally  involves 
independence  of  that  which  is  essentially  a  mere  outward 
and  material  object — a  mere  thing,  —that  kind  of  religion 
which  is  now  under  consideration,  finds  no  satisfaction  in 
being  brought  into  connection  with  the  Beautiful :  the 
coarsest,  ugliest,  poorest  representations  will  suit  its  purpose 
equally  well — perhaps  better.  Accordingly  real  master- 
pieces— e.  g.  Raphael's  Madonnas — do  not  enjoy  distin- 
guished veneration,  or  elicit  a  multitude  of  offerings  :  in- 
ferior pictures  seem  on  the  contrary  to  be  especial  favourites 
and  to  be  made  the  object  of  the  warmest  devotion  and  the 
most  generous  liberality.  Piety  passes  by  the  former  for 
this  very  reason,  that  were  it  to  linger  in  their  vicinity  it 
would  feel  an  inward  stimulus  and  attraction  ; — an  excitement 
of  a  kind  which  cannot  but  be  felt  to  be  alien,  where  all 
that  is  desiderated  is  a  sense  of  mental  bondage  in  which 
self  is  lost — the  stupor  of  abject  dependence. — Thus  Art 
in  its  very  nature  transcended  the  principle  of  the  Church. 
But  as  the  former  manifests  itself  only  under  sensuous  limi- 
tations [and  does  not  present  the  suspicious  aspect  of  abstract 
thought],  it  is  at  first  regarded  as  a  harmless  and  indifferent 


SECT.  II.  MIDDLE  AGES. — INFLUENCE  OF  ART,  ETC.  427 

matter.  The  Church,  therefore,  continued  to  follow  it ;  but 
as  soon  as  the  tree  Spirit  in  which  Art  originated,  advanced 
to  Thought  and  Science,  a  separation  ensued. 

For  Art  received  a  further  support  and  experienced  an 
elevating  influence  as  the  result  of  the  study  of  antiquity 
(the  name  humaniora  is  very  expressive,  for  in  those  works 
of  antiquity  honour  is  done  to  the  Human  and  to  the  de- 
velopment of  Humanity) :  through  this  study  the  West  be- 
came acquainted  with  the  true  and  eternal  element  in  the 
activity  of  man.  The  outward  occasion  of  this  revival  of 
science  was  the  fall  of  the  Byzantine  Empire.  Large  num- 
bers of  Greeks  took  refuge  in  the  West  and  introduced 
Greek  literature  there;  and  they  brought  with  them  not  only 
the  knowledge  of  the  Greek  language  but  also  the  treasures 
to  which  that  knowledge  was  the  key.  Very  little  of  Greek 
literature  had  been  preserved  in  the  convents,  and  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  language  could  scarcely  be  said  to  exist  at 
all.  With  the  Roman  literature  it  was  otherwise ;  in  regard  to 
that,  ancient  traditions  still  lingered :  Virgil  was  thought 
to  be  a  great  magician  (in  Dante  he  appears  as  the  guide 
in  Hell  and  Purgatory).  Through  the  influence  of  the 
Greeks,  then,  attention  was  again  directed  to  the  ancient 
(rreek  literature  ;  the  West  had  become  capable  of  enjoying 
and  appreciating  it ;  quite  other  ideals  and  a  different  order 
of  virtue  from  that  with  which  medieval  Europe  was  familiar 
were  here  presented  ;  an  altogether  novel  standard  for  judg- 
ing of  what  was  to  be  honoured,  commended  and  imitated 
was  set  up.  The  Greeks  in  their  works  exhibited  quite 
other  moral  commands  than  those  with  which  the  West  was 
acquainted  ;  scholastic  formalism  had  to  make  way  for  a  body 
of  speculative  thought  of  a  widely  different  complexion:  Plato 
became  Ttnown  in  the  West,  and  in  him  a'  new  human  world 
presented  itself.  '  These  novel  ideas  met  with  a  principal 
organ  of  diffusion  in  the  newly  discovered  Art  of  Printing, 
which,  like  the  use  of  gunpowder,  corresponds  with 
modern  character,  and  supplied  the  desideratum  of  the  age 
in  which  it  was  invented,  by  tending  to  enable  men  to  stand  in 
an  ideal  connection  with  each  other.  So  far  as  the  study  of 
the  ancients  manifested  an  interest  in  human  deeds  and  vir- 
tues, the  Church  continued  to  tolerate  it,  not  observing  that 
in  those  alien  works  an  altogether  alien  spirit  was  advancing 
to  confront  it. 


428  PART    IV.        THE    GERMAN    WORLD. 

As  a  third  leading  feature  demanding  our  notice  in  deter- 
mining the  character  of  the  period,  might  be  mentioned  that 
urging  of  Spirit  outwards — that  desire  on  the  part  of  man 
to  become  acquainted  with  his  world.  The  chivalrous  spirit 
of  the  maritime  heroes  of  Portugal  and  Spain  opened  a  new 
way  to  the  East  Indies  and  discovered  America.  This  pro- 
gressive step  also,  involved  no  transgression  of  the  limits  of 
ecclesiastical  principles  or  feeling.  The  aim  of  Columbus 
was  by  no  means  a  merely  secular  one :  it  presented  also  a 
distinctly  religious  aspect;  the  treasures  of  those  rich  Indian 
lands  which  awaited  his  discovery  were  destined  in  his  in- 
tention to  be  expended  in  a  new  Crusade,  and  the  heathen 
inhabitants  of  the  countries  themselves  were  to  be  converted 
to  Christianity.  The  recognition  of  the  spherical  figure  of 
the  earth  led  man  to  perceive  that  it  offered  him  a  defi- 
nite and  limited  object,  and  navigation  had  been  benefited 
by  the  new  found  instrumentality  of  the  magnet,  enabling  it 
to  be  something  better  than  mere  coasting :  thus  technical 
appliances  make  their  appearance  when  a  need  for  them  is 
experienced. 

These  three  events — the  so-called  Revival  of  Learning, 
the  flourishing  of  the  Fine  Arts  and  the  discovery  of  America 
and  of  the  passage  to  India  by  the  Cape — may  be  compared 
with  that  blush  of  dawn,  which  after  long  storms  first  be- 
tokens the  return  of  a  bright  and  glorious  day.  This  day  is 
the  day  of  Universality,  which  breaks  upon  the  world  after 
the  long,  eventful,  and  terrible  night  of  the  Middle  Ages  — a 
day  which  is  distinguished  by  science,  art  and  inventive  im- 
pulse,— that  is,  by  the  noblest  and  highest,  and  which  H  uma- 
nity,  rendered  free  by  Christianity  and  emancipated  through 
the  instrumentality  of  the  Church,  exhibits  as  the  eternal 
and  veritable  substance  of  its  being. 


SECTION    III. 

THE   MODERN  TIME. 


"WE  have  now  arrived  at  the  third  period  of  the  German 
World,  and  thus  enter  upon  the  period  of  Spirit  conscious 
that  it  is  free,  inasmuch  as  it  wills  the  True,  the  Eternal — 
that  which  :s  in  and  for  itself  Universal. 


SECT.  III.    THE  MODE  UN  TIME. — THE  REFOBMATIOJS'.    429 

.In  this  third  period  also,  three  divisions  present  thein- 
eelres.  First,  we  have  to  consider  the  Reformation  in  itself — 
the  all-enlightening  Sim,  following  on  that  blush  of  dawn 
which  we  observed  at  the  termination  of  the  mediaeval  period; 
next,  the  unfolding  of  that  state  of  things  which  succeeded 
the  Reformation  ;  and  lastly,  the  Modern  Times,  dating  from 
the  end  of  the  last  century. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  REFORMATION. 

THE  Reformation  resulted  from  the  corruption  of  the  Church. 
That  corruption  was  not  an  accidental  phenomenon;  it  was  not 
the  mere  abuse  of  power  and  dominion.  A  corrupt  state  of 
things  is  very  frequently  represented  as  an  '*  abuse ;"  it  is 
taken  for  granted  that  the  foundation  was  good, — the  system, 
the  institution  itself  faultless, — but  that  the  passio*n,  the 
subjective  interest,  in  short  the  arbitrary  volition  of  men  has 
made  use  of  that  which  in  itself  was  good  to  further  its  own 
selfish  ends,  and  that  all  that  is  required  to  be  done  is  to 
remove  these  adventitious  elements.  On  this  shewing  the 
institute  in  question  escapes  obuquy,  and  the  evil  that  dis- 
figures it  appears  something  foreign  to  it.  But  when  acci- 
dental abuse  of  a  good  thing  really  occurs,  it  is  limited  to  par- 
ticularity. A  great  and  general  corruption  affecting  a  body 
of  such  large  and  comprehensive  scope  as  a  Church,  is  quite 
another  thing. — The  corruption  of  the  Church  was  a  native 
growth  ;  the  principle  of  that  corruption  is  to  be  looked  for 
in  the  fact  that  the  specific  and  definite  embodiment  of  Deity 
which  it  recognizes,  is  sensuous, — that  the  external  in  a 
coarse  material  form,  is  enshrined  in  its  inmost  being.  (The 
refining  transformation  which  Art  supplied  was  not  suffi- 
cient). The  higher  Spirit — that  of  the  World — has  al- 
ready expelled  the  Spiritual  from  it ;  it  finds  nothing  to  in- 
terest it  in  the  Spiritual  or  in  occupation  with  it ;  thus  it 
retains  that  specific  and  definite  embodiment ; — i  e.,  we  have 
the  sensuous  immediate  subjectivity,  not  refined  by  it  to 


430  PART    IV.      THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

Spiritual  subjectivity. — Henceforth  it  occupies  a  position  of 
inferiority  to  the  World-Spirit ;  the  latter  has  already  trans- 
cended it,  for  it  has  become  capable  of  recognizing  the 
Sensuous  as  sensuous,  the  merely  outward  as  merely  out- 
ward ;  it  has  learned  to  occupy  itself  with  the  Finite  in  a 
finite  way,  and  in  this  very  activity  to  maintain  an  indepen- 
dent and  confident  position  as  a  valid  and  rightful  subjec- 
tivity.* 

The  element  in  question  which  is  innate  in  the  Ecclesias- 
tical principle  only  reveals  itself  as  a  corrupting  one  when 
the  Church  has  no  longer  any  opposition  to  contend  with, — 
when  it  has  become  firmly  established.  Then  its  elements 
are  free  to  display  their  tendencies  without  let  or  hindrance. 
Thus  it  is  that  externality  in  the  Church  itself  which  becomes 
evil  and  corruption,  and  develops  itself  as  a  negative  princi- 
ple in  its  own  bosom. — The  forms  which  this  corruption 
assumes  are  coextensive  with  the  relations  which  the  Church 
itself  sustains,  into  which  consequently  this  vitiating  ele- 
ment enters. 

The  ecclesiastical  piety  of  the  period  displays  the  very 
essence  of  superstition — the  fettering  of  the  mind  to  a 
sensuous  object,  a  mere  Thing — in  the  most  various  forms  : 
— slavish  deference  to  Authority;  for  Spirit,  having  renounced 
its  proper  nature  in  its  most  essential  quality  [having  sacri- 
ficed its  characteristic  liberty  to  a  mere  sensuous  object],  has 
lost  its  Freedom,  and  is  held  in  adamantine  bondage  to  what 
is  alien  to  itself; — a  credulity  of  the  most  absurd  and  child- 
ish character  in  regard  to  Miracles,  for  the  Divine  is  sup- 
posed to  manifest  itself  in  a  perfectly  disconnected  and 
limited  way,  for  purely  finite  and  particular  purposes; — 
lastly,  lust  of  power,  riotous  debauchery,  all  the  forms  of 
barbarous  and  vulgar  corruption,  hypocrisy  and  deception, 
— all  this  manifests  itself  in  the  Church;  for  in  fact  the 
Sensuous  in  it  is  not  subjugated  and  trained  by  the  Under- 

*  The  Church,  in  its  devotion  to  mere  ceremonial  observances,  supposes 
itself  to  be  engaged  with  the  Spiritual,  while  it  is  really  occupied  with  the 
Sensuous.  The  World  towards  the  close  of  the  Mediaeval  period,  is 
equally  devoted  to  the  Sensuous,  but  labours  under  no  such  hallucination 
as  to  the  character  of  its  activity  ;  and  it  has  ceased  to  feel  compunction 
at  the  merely  secular  nature  of  its  aims  and  actions,  such  as  it  might  have 
felt  (e.  g.)  in  the  eleventh  century.— Ta. 


SECT  III.     THE  MODERN  TIME. — THE  REFORMATION.    431 

standing ;  it  has  become  free,  but  only  in  a  rough  and 
barbarous  way. — On  the  other  hand  the  virtue  which  the 
Church  presents,  since  it  is  negative  only  in  opposition  to 
sensual  appetite,  is  but  abstractly  negative  ;  it  does  not 
know  how  to  exercise  a  moral  restraint  in  the  indulgence  of 
the  senses ;  in  actual  life  nothing  is  left  for  it  but  avoidance, 
renunciation,  inactivity. 

These  contrasts  which  the  Church  exhibits — of  barbarous 
vice  and  lust  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  elevation  of  soul  that 
is  ready  to  renounce  all  worldly  things,  on  the  other  hand — • 
became  still  wider  in  consequence  of  the  energetic  position 
which  man  is  sensible  of  occupying  in  his  subjective  power 
over  outward  and  material  things  in  the  natural  world,  in 
which  he  feels  himself  free,  and  so  gains  for  himself  an  abso- 
lute right. — The  Church  whose  office  it  is  to  save  souls  from 
perdition,  makes  this  salvation  itself  a  mere  external  appli- 
ance, and  is  now  degraded  so  far  as  to  perform  this  office  in 
a  merely  external  fashion.  The  remission  of  sins — the  highest 
satisfaction  which  the  soul  craves,  the  certainty  of  its  peace 
with  God,  that  which  concerns  man's  deepest  and  inmost 
nature — is  offered  to  man  in  the  most  grossly  superficial  and 
trivial  fashion, — to  be  purchased  for  mere  money ;  while  the 
object  of  this  sale  is  to  procure  means  for  dissolute  excess. 
One  of  the  objects  of  this  sale  was  indeed  the  building  of  St. 
Peter's,  that  magnificent  chef-d'oeuvre  of  Christian  fabrics 
erected  in  the  metropolis  of  religion.  But.;  as  that  paragon 
of  works  of  art  the  Athene  and  her  tern  pie- citadel  at  Athens, 
was  built  with  the  money  of  the  allies  and  issued  in  the  loss 
of  both  allies  and  power ;  so  the  completion  of  this  Church 
of  St.  Peter  and  Michael  Angelo's  "  Last  Judgment  "  in  the 
Sistine  Chapel,  were  the  Doomsday  and  the  ruin  of  this  proud 
spiritual  edifice. 

The  time-honoured  and  cherished  sincerity  of  the  German 
people  is  destined  to  effect  this  revolution  out  of  the  honest 
truth  and  simplicity  of  its  heart.  While  the  rest  of  the 
world  are  urging  their  way  to  India,  to  America — straining 
every  nerve  to  gain  wealth  and  to  acquire  a  secular 
dominion  which  shall  encompass  the  globe,  and  on  which  the 
sun  shall  never  set — we  find  a  simple  Monk  looking  for 
that  specific  embodiment  of  Deity  which  Christendom  had 
formerly  sought  in  an  earthly  sepulchre  of  stone,  rather  in 


432  PART    IV.      THE    GERMAJT   WORLD. 

the  deeper  ab)ss  of  the  Absolute  Ideality  of  all  that  is  sen« 
suous  and  external, — in  the  Spirit  and  the  Heart,—  the  heart, 
which,  wounded  unspeakably  by  the  offer  of  the  most  tri- 
vial and  superficial  appliances  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  that 
which  is  inmost  and  deepest,  now  detects  the  perversion  of 
the  absolute  relation  of  truth  in  its  minutest  features,  and 
pursues  it  to  annihilation.     Luther's  simple  doctrine  is  that 
the  specific  embodiment  of  Deity— infinite  subjectivity,  that 
is  true  spirituality,  Christ — is  in  no  way  present  and  actual  in 
an  outward  form,  but  as  essentially  spiritual  is  obtained 
only  in  being  reconciled  to  God—  in  faith  and  spiritual  en- 
joyment. These  two  words  express  every  thing.  That  which  this 
doctrine  desiderates,  is  not  the  recognition  of  a  sensuous  object 
as  God,  nor  even  of  something  merely  conceived,  and  which  is 
not  actual  and  present,  but  of  a  Reality  that  is  not  sensuous. 
This  abrogation  of  externality  imports  the  reconstruction  of 
all  the  doctrines,  and  the  reform  of  all  the  superstition  into 
which  the  Church  consistently  wandered,  and  in  which  its  spi- 
ritual life  was  dissipated.     This  change  especially  affects  the 
doctrine  of  works  ;  for  works  include  what  may  be  performed 
under  any  mental  conditions — not  necessarily  in  faith,  in 
one's  own  soul,  but  as  mere  external  observances  prescribed 
by  authority.     Faith  is  by  no  means  a  bare  assurance  re- 
specting mere  finite  things — an  assurance  which  belongs  only 
to  limited  mind — as  e.  g.  the  belief  that  such  or  such  a  per- 
son existed  and  said  this  or  that ;  or  that  the  Children  of 
Israel  passed  dry-shod  through  the  Eed  Sea — or  that  the 
trumpets  before  the  walls  of  Jericho  produced  as  powerful 
an  impression  as  our  cannons ;  for  although  nothing  of  all 
this  had  been  related  to  us,  our  knowledge  of  God  would 
not  be  the  less  complete.     In  fact  it  is  not  a  belief  in  some- 
thing that  is  absent,  past  and  gone,  but  the  subjective  as- 
surance of  the  Eternal,  of  Absolute  Truth,  the  Truth  of  God. 
Concerning  this  assurance,  the  Lutheran  Church  affirms  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  alone  produces  it — i.  e.  that  it  is  an  assur- 
ance which   the   individual  attains,   not  in   virtue   of  his 
particular  idiosyncrasy,   but   of  his   essential  being. — The 
Lutheran  doctrine  therefore  involves  the  entire  substance  of 
Catholicism,  with  the  exception  of  all  that  results  from  the 
element  of  externality — as  far  as  the  Catholic  Church  insists 
upon  that  externality.   Luther  therefore  could  not  do  other- 


SECT.  III.     THE  MODER5  TIME. — THE  REFORMATION.    433 

wise  than  refuse  to  yield  an  iota  in  regard  to  that  doctrine  of 
the  Eucharist  in  which  the  whole  question  is  concentrated. 
!Nor  could  he  concede  to  the  Reformed  [Calvinistic]  Church, 
that  Christ  is  a  mere  commemoration,  a  mere  reminiscence  : 
in  this  respect  his  view  was  rather  in  accordance  with  that 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  viz.  that  Christ  is  an  actual  presence, 
though  only  in  faith  and  in  Spirit.  He  maintained  that  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  really  fills  the  human  heart, — that  Christ 
therefore  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  merely  an  historical  per- 
son, but  that  man  sustains  an  immediate  relation  to  him  in 
Spirit. 

While,  then,  the  individual  knows  that  he  is  filled  with  the 
Divine  Spirit,  all  the  relations  that  sprung  from  that  vitiating 
element  of  externality  which  we  examined  above,  are  ipso 
facto  abrogated:  there  is  no  longer  a  distinction  between 
priests  and  laymen ;  we  no  longer  find  one  class  in  posses- 
sion of  tie  substance  of  the  Truth,  as  of  all  the  spiritual  and 
temporal  treasures  of  the  Church  ;  but  the  heart — the  emo 
tional  part  of  man's  Spiritual  nature — is  recognized  as  that 
which  can  and  ought  to  come  into  possession  of  the  Truth  ; 
and  this  subjectivity  is  the  common  property  of  all  mankind. 
Each  has  to  accomplish  the  work  of  reconciliation  in  his 
own  soul. — Subjective  Spirit  has  to  receive  the  Spirit  of 
Truth  into  itself,  and  give  it  a  dwelling  place  there.  Thus 
that  absolute  inwardness  of  soul  which  pertains  to  reli- 
gion itself,  and  Freedom  in  the  Church  are  both  secured. 
Subjectivity  therefore  makes  the  objective  purport  of  Chris- 
tianity, i.  e.  the  doctrine  of  the  Church,  its  own.  In  the 
Lutheran  Church  the  subjective  feeling  and  the  conviction 
of  the  individual  is  regarded  as  equally  necessary  with  the 
objective  side  of  Truth.  Truth  with  Lutherans  is  not  a 
finished  and  completed  thing ;  the  subject  himself  must  be 
imbued  with  Truth,  surrendering  his  particular  being  in  ex- 
change for  the  substantial  Truth,  and  making  that  Truth 
his  own.  Thus  subjective  Spirit  gains  emancipation  in  the 
Truth,  abnegates  its  particularity  and  comes  to  itself  in 
realizing  the  truth  of  its  being.  Thus  Christian  Freedom  is 
actualized.  If  Subjectivity  be  placed  in  feeling  only,  with- 
out that  objective  side,  we  have  the  stand -point  of  the  merely 
Natural  Will. 

In  the  proclamation  of  these  principles  is  unfurled  the  new 

2r 


4.34  PAKT    IV.       THE    GEHUAN    WOKLD. 

the  latest  nandard  round  which  the  peoples  rally — the 
banner  of  Free  Spirit,  independent,  though  finding  its  life  in 
the  Truth,  and  enjoying  independence  only  in  it.  This  is 
the  banner  uuder  which  we  serve,  and  which  we  bear.  Time, 
since  that  epoch,  has  had  no  other  work  to  do  than  the 
formal  imbuing  of  the  world  with  this  principle,  in  bringing 
the  Eeconciliation  implicit  [in  Christianity]  into  objective 
and  explicit  realization.  Culture  is  essentially  concerned 
with  Form ;  the  work  of  Culture  is  the  production  of  the 
Form  of  Universality,  which  is  none  other  than  Thought.* 
Consequently  Law,  Property,  Social  Morality,  Government, 
Constitutions,  &c.  must  be  conformed  to  general  principles, 
in  order  that  they  may  accord  with  the  idea  of  Free  Will 
and  be  Rational.  Thus  only  can  the  Spirit  of  Truth  mani- 
fest itself  in  Subjective  Will — in  the  particular  shapes  which 
the  activity  of  the  Will  assumes.  In  virtue  of  that  degree 
of  intensity  which  Subjective  Free  Spirit  has  attained,  ele- 
vating it  to  the  form  of  Universality,  Objective  Spirit  attains 
manifestation.  This  is  the  sense  in  which  we  must  under- 
stand the  State  to  be  based  on  Religion.  States  and  Laws 
are  nothing  else  than  Religion  manifesting  itself  in  the 
relations  of  the  actual  world. 

This  is  the  essence  of  the  Reformation  :  Man  is  in  his  very 
nature  destined  to  be  free. 

At  its  commencement,  the  Reformation  concerned  itself 
only  with  particular  aspects  of  the  Catholic  Church:  Luther 
wished  to  act  in  union  with  the  whole  Catholic  world,  and 
expressed  a  desire  that  Councils  should  be  convened.  His 
theses  found  supporters  in  every  country.  In  answer  to  the 
charge  brought  against  Luther  and  the  Protestants,  of  exag- 
geration— nay,  even  of  calumnious  misrepresentation  in  their 
descriptions  of  the  corruption  of  the  Church,  we  may  refer 
to  the  statements  of  Catholics  themselves,  bearing  upon  this 

•  The  community  of  principle  which  really  links  together  individuals 
of  the  same  class,  and  in  virtue  of  which  they  are  similarly  related  toothei 
existences,  assumes  A  form  in  human  consciousness  ;  and  that  form  is  tht 
thought  or  idea  which  summarily  comprehends  the  constituents  of  generic 
character.  The  primary  meaning'  of  the  word  idta  and  of  the  related  terms 
it£of  and  species,  is  "  form."  Every  "  Universal  **  in  Thought  has  a  corres- 
ponding generic  principle  in  Reality,  to  which  it  yives  intellectual  expre* 
won  orj'oi-m. — TK. 


SECT.  III.       THE  MODERN  TIME. — THE  REFORMATION.     435 

point,  and  particularly  to  those  contained  in  the  official 
documents  of  Ecclesiastical  Councils.  But  Luther's  on- 
slaught, which  was  at  first  limited  to  particular  points,  was 
soon  extended  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  ;  and  leaving  in- 
dividuals, he  attacked  institutions  at  large — conventual  life, 
the  secular  lordships  of  the  bishops,  &c.  His  writings  now 
controverted  not  merely  isolated  dicta  of  the  Pope  and  the 
Councils,  but  the  very  principle  on  which  such  a  mode  of 
deciding  points  in  dispute  was  based — in  fact,  the  Authority 
of  the  Church.  Luther  repudiated  that  authority,  and  set  up 
in  its  stead  the  Bible  and  the  testimony  of  the  Human 
Spirit.  And  it  is  a  fact  of  the  weightiest  import  that  the 
Bible  has  become  the  basis  of  the  Christian  Church  :  hence- 
forth each  individual  enjoys  the  right  of  deriving  instruction 
for  himself  from  it,  and  of  directing  his  conscience  in  accord- 
ance with  it.  We  see  a  vast  change  in  the  principle  by  which 
man's  religious  life  is  guided :  the  whole  system  of  Tradi- 
tion, the  whole  fabric  of  the  Church  becomes  problematical, 
and  its  authority  is  subverted.  Luther's  translation  of  the 
Bible  has  been  of  incalculable  value  to  the  German  people. 
It  has  supplied  them  with  a  People's  Book,  such  as  no 
nation  in  the  Catholic  world  can  boast ;  for  though  the 
latter  have  a  vast  number  of  minor  productions  in  the  shape 
of  prayer-books,  they  have  no  generally  recognized  and 
classical  book  for  popular  instruction.  In  spite  of  this  it 
has  been  made  a  question  in  modern  times  whether  it  is 
judicious  to  place  the  Bible  in  the  hands  of  the  People.  Yet 
the  few  disadvantages  thus  entailed  are  far  more  than  coun- 
terbalanced by  the  incalculable  benefits  thence  accruing : 
narratives,  which  in  their  external  shape  might  be  repellent 
to  the  heart  and  understanding,  can  be  discriminatingly 
treated  by  the  religious  sense,  which,  holding  fast  the  sub- 
stantial truth,  easily  vanquishes  any  such  difficulties.  Ar.d 
even  if  the  books  which  have  pretensions  to  the  character 
of  People's  Books  were  not  so  superficial  as  they  are, 
they  would  certainly  fail  in  securing  that  respect  which  a 
boo'k  claiming  such  a  title  ought  to  inspire  in  individuals. 
But  to  obviate  this  difficulty  is  no  easy  matter,  for  even 
should  a  book  adapted  to  the  purpose  in  every  other  respect 
be  produced,  every  country  parson  would  have  some  fault  to 
find  with  it,  and  think  to  better  it.  In  France  the  need  of  such 

2  F  2 


43G  PART    IT.      THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

a  book  has  been  very  much  felt ;  great  premiums  have  been 
offered  with  a  view  to  obtaining  one,  but,  from  the  reason 
stated,  without  success.  Moreover,  the  existence  of  a 
People's  Book  presupposes  as  its  primary  condition  an  ability 
to  read  on  the  part  of  the  People ;  an  ability  which  in  Catho- 
lic countries  is  not  very  commonly  to  be  met  with. 

The  denial  of  the  Authority  of  the  Church  necessarily  lea 
to  a  separation.  The  Council  of  Trent  stereotyped  the 
principles  of  Catholicism,  and  made  the  restoration  of  con- 
cord impossible.  Leibnitz  at  a  later  time  discussed  with 
Bishop  Bossuet  the  question  of  the  union  of  the  Churches  ; 
but  the  Council  of  Trent  remains  the  insurmountable  ob- 
stacle. The  Churches  became  hostile  parties,  for  even  in 
respect  to  secular  arrangements  a  striking  difference  mani- 
fested itself.  In  the  non-Catholic  countries  the  conventual 
establishments  and  episcopal  foundations  were  broken  up, 
and  the  rights  of  the  then  proprietors  ignored.  Educational 
arrangements  were  altered ;  the  fasts  and  holy  days  were 
abolished.  Thus  there  was  also  a  secular  reform — a  change 
affecting  the  state  of  things  outside  the  sphere  of  eccle- 
siastical relations :  in  many  places  a  rebellion  was  raised 
against  the  temporal  auth.  rities.  In  Miinster  the  Ana- 
baptists expelled  the  Bishop  md  established  a  government 
of  their  own ;  and  the  peasants  rose  en  masse  to  emancipate 
themselves  from  the  yoke  of  serfdom.  But  the  world  was 
not  yet  ripe  for  a  transformation  of  its  political  condition 
as  a  consequence  of  ecclesiastical  reformation.— The  Catholic 
Church  also  was  essentially  influenced  by  the  Reformation  : 
the  reins  of  discipline  were  drawn  tighter,  and  the  greatest  oc- 
casions of  scandal,  the  most  crying  abuses  were  abated.  Much 
of  the  intellectual  life  of  the  age  that  lay  outside  its  sphere, 
but  with  which  it  had  previously  maintained  friendly  relations, 
it  now  repudiated.  The  Church  came  to  a  dead  stop — "  hither- 
to and  no  farther  !'*  It  severed  itself  from  advancing  Science, 
from  philosophy  and  humanistic  literature;  and  an  occasion 
was  soon  offered  of  declaring  its  enmity  to  the  scientific 
pursuits  of  the  period.  The  celebrated  Copernicus  had  dis- 
covered that  the  win  h  and  the  planets  revolve  round  the 
gun,  but  the  Church  declared  against  this  addition  to  human 
knowledge.  G-alileo,  who  had  published  a  statement  in  the 
fym  of  a  dialogue  of  the  evidence  for  and  against  the  Coper- 


SECT.  III.       THE  MODERN  TIME. — THE  REFORMATION.    437 

nit-flu  discovery  (declaring  indeed  his  own  conviction  of  itt 
truth),  was  obliged  to  crave  pardon  for  the  offence  on  his 
knees.  The  Greek  literature  was  not  made  the  basis  of  cul- 
ture; education  was  entrusted  to  the  Jesuits.  Thus  does 
the  Spirit  of  the  Catholic  world  in  general  sink  behind  the 
Spirit  of  the  Age. 

Here  an  important  question  solicits  investigation  : — why 
the  Reformation  was  limited  to  certain  nations,  and  why  it 
did  not  permeate  the  whole  Catholic  world.  The  Reforma- 
tion originated  in  Germany,  and  struck  firm  root  only  in  the 
purely  German  nations ;  outside  of  Germany  itself  it  estab- 
lished itself  in  Scandinavia  and  England.  But  the  Romanic 
and  Sclavonic  nations  kept  decidedly  aloof  from  it.  Even 
South  Germany  has  only  partially  adopted  the  Reformation 
— a  fact  which  is  consistent  with  the  mingling  of  elements 
which  is  the  general  characteristic  of  its  nationality.  In 
S\vabia,  Franconia,  and  the  Rhine  countries  there  were  many 
convents  and  bishoprics,  as  also  many  free  imperial  towns ; 
and  the  reception  or  rejection  of  the  Reformation  very  much 
depended  on  the  influences  which  these  ecclesiastical  and 
civil  bodies  respectively  exercised ;  for  we  have  already 
noticed  that  the  Reformation  was  a  change  influencing  the 
political  life  of  the  age  as  well  as  its  religious  and  intellectual 
condition.  "We  must  further  observe,  that  authority  has 
much  greater  weight  in  determining  men's  opinions  than 
people  are  inclined  to  believe.  There  are  certain  fun- 
damental principles  which  men  are  in  the  habit  of  receiving 
on  the  strength  of  authority  ;  and  it  was  mere  authority 
which  in  the  case  of  many  countries  decided  for  or  against 
the  adoption  of  the  Reformation.  In  Austria,  in  Bavaria,  in 
Bohemia,  the  Reformation  had  already  made  great  progress  ; 
and  though  it  is  commonly  said  that  when  truth  has  once  pene- 
trated men's  souls,  it  cannot  be  rooted  out  again,  it  was 
indisputably  stifled  in  the  countries  in  question,  by  force  of 
arms,  by  stratagem  or  persuasion.  The  Sclavonic  nations  were 
agricultural.  This  condition  of  life  brings  with  it  the  rela- 
tion of  lord  and  serf.  In  agriculture  the  agency  of  nature 
predominates  ;  human  industry  and  subjective  activity  are 
on  the  whole  less  brought  into  play  in  this  department  of 
labour  than  elsewhere.  The  Sclavonians  therefore  did  not 
attain  so  quickly  or  readily  as  other  nations  the  fundamental 


438  PART    IT.       THE    GERMAN    WOELP. 

&en«e  ' }  lire  individuality — the  consciousness  of  Universality 
— thst  whic'ti  we  designated  above  as  "political  power" 
[p.  415],  and  could  not  share  the  benefits  of  dawning 
freedom.  —  But  the  Romanic  nations  also  —  Italy,  Spain, 
Portugal,  and  in  part  France — were  not  imbued  with  the 
Reformed  doctrines.  Physical  force  perhaps  did  much  to 
repress  them  ;  yet  this  alone  would  not  be  sufficient  to  ex- 
plain the  fact,  for  when  the  Spirit  of  a  Nation  craves 
anything  no  force  can  preyent  its  attaining  the  desired 
object :  nor  can  it  be  said  that  these  nations  were  deficient 
in  culture ;  on  the  contrary,  they  were  in  advance  of  the 
Germans  in  this  respoct.  It  was  rather  owing  to  the  funda- 
mental character  of  these  nations,  that  they  did  not  adopt 
the  Reformation.  But  what  is  this  peculiarity  of  character 
which  hindered  the  attainment  of  Spiritual  Freedom  ?  "We 
answer:  the  pure  inwardness  of  the  German  Nation  was 
the  proper  soil  for  the  emancipation  of  Spirit;  the  Romanic 
Nations,  on  the  contrary,  have  maintained  in  the  very  depth 
•of  their  soul — in  their  Spiritual  Consciousness — the  principle 
of  Disharmony  :  *  they  are  a  product  of  the  fusion  of  Roman 
and  German  blood,  and  still  retain  the  heterogeneity  thence 
resulting.  The  German  cannot  deny  that  the  French,  the 
Italians,  the  Spaniards,  possess  more  determination  of  charac- 
ter— that  they  pursue  a  settled  aim  (even  though  it  have  a 
fixed  idea  for  its  object)  with  perfectly  clear  consciousness 
and  the  greatest  attention — that  they  carry  out  a  plan  with 
great  circumspection,  and  exhibit  the  greatest  decision  in 
regard  to  specific  objects.  The  French  call  the  Germans 
entiers,  "entire" — i.e.,  stubborn  ;  they  are  also  strangers  to 
the  whimsical  originality  of  the  English.  The  Englishman 
attaches  his  idea  of  liberty  to  the  special  [as  opposed  to  the 
general]  ;  he  does  not  trouble  himself  about  the  Understand- 
ing [logical  inference],  but  on  the  contrary  feels  himself  so 
much  the  more  at  liberty,  the  more  his  course  of  action  01 
his  license  to  act  contravenes  the  Understanding—  i.e.,  runs 
counter  to  [logical  inferences  or]  general  principles.  On 
the  other  hand,  among  the  Romanic  peoples  we  immediately 
encounter  that  internal  schism,  that  holding  fast  by  an  ab- 

*  The  acknowledgment  of  an  external  power  authorized  to  command 
the  entire  soul  of  man  was  not  supplanted  in  their  case  by  H  deference  to 
Conscience  and  subjective  Principle  (i.e..  the  imiou  of  Objective  and  Sub- 
jective freedom)  a*  ihe  supreme  authority. — A*. 


SECT.  Ill        THE  MODEUN  TIME.— THE  EEFORMATION.    4J59 

§tract  principle,  and  as  the  counterpart  of  this,  an  absence  oft  he 
Totality  of  Spirit  and  sentiment  which  we  call  "Heart:"  there 
is  not  that  meditative  introversion  of  the  soul  upon  itself; — in 
their  inmost  being  they  maybe  said  to  be  alienated  from  them- 
selves [abstract  principles  carry  them  away\.  With  them  the 
inner  life  is  a  region  whose  depth  they  do  not  appreciate;  for  it 
is  given  over  'bodily*  to  particular  [absorbing]  interests,  and 
the  infinity  that  belongs  to  Spirit  is  not  to  be  looked  for 
there.  Their  inmost  being  is  not  their  own.  They  leave  it 
as  an  alien  and  indifferent  matter,  and  are  glad  to  have  its 
concerns  settled  for  them  by  another.  That  other  to  which 
they  leave  it  is  the  Church.  They  have  indeed  something 
to  do  with  it  themselves ;  but  since  that  which  they  have  to 
do  is  not  self-originated  and  self-prescribed,  not  their  very 
own,  they  are  content  to  leave  the  affair  to  be  settled  in  a 
superficial  way.  "  Eh  bien,"  said  Napoleon,  "  we  shall  go 
to  mass  again,  and  my  good  fellows  will  say  :  '  That  is  the 
word  of  command!"  This  is  the  leading  feature  in  the 
character  of  these  nations — the  separation  of  the  religious 
from  the  secular  interest,  i.e.,  from  the  special  interest  of 
individuality  ;  and  the  ground  of  this  separation  lies  in  their 
inmost  soul,  which  has  lost  its  independent  entireness  of 
being,  its  profoundest  unity.  Catholicism  does  not  claim 
the  essential  direction  of  the  Secular ;  religion  remains  an 
indifferent  matter  on  the  one  side,  while  the  other  side  of 
life  is  dissociated  from  it,  and  occupies  a  sphere  exclusively 
its  own.  Cultivated  Frenchmen  therefore  feel  an  antipathy 
to  Protestantism  because  it  seems  to  them  something  pedan- 
tic, dull,  minutely  captious  in  its  morality  ;  since  it  requires 
that  Spirit  and  Thought  should  be  directly  engaged  in  reli- 
gion :  in  attending  mass  and  other  ceremonies,  on  the  con- 
trary, no  exertion  of  thought  is  required,  but  an  imposing 
sensuous  spectacle  is  presented  to  the  eye,  which  does  not 
make  such  a  demand  on  one's  attention  as  entirely  to  exclude 
a  little  chat,  while  yet  the  duties  of  the  occasion  are  not 
neglected. 

We  spoke  above  of  the  relation  which  the  new  doctrine 
sustained  to  secular  life,  and  now  we  have  only  to  exhibit 
that  relation  in  detail.  The  development  and  advance  ot' 
Spirit  from  the  time  of  the  Reformation  onwards  consists  in 
this,  that  Spirit,  having  now  gained  the  consciousness  of  ita 


0  PART      IV.      THE    GERMAN    WOULD. 

Freedom,  through  that  process  of  mediation  which  takes 
place  between  man  and  God — that  is,  in  the  full  recognition 
of  the  objective  process  as  the  existence  [the  positive  and 
definite  manifestation]  of  the  Divine  essence — now  takes  it 
up  and  follows  it  out  in  building  up  the  edifice  of  secular 
relations.  That  harmony  [of  Objective  and  Subjective  Will] 
which  has  resulted  from  the  painful  struggles  of  History, 
involves  the  recognition  of  the  Secular  as  capable  of  being 
an  embodiment  of  Truth  ;  whereas  it  had  been  formerly  re- 
garded as  evil  only,  as  incapable  of  Good — the  latter  being 
considered  essentially  ultramundane.  It  is  now  perceived 
that  Morality  and  Justice  in  the  State  are  also  divine 
and  commanded  by  God,  and  that  in  point  of  substance 
there  is  nothing  higher  or  more  sacred.  One  inference  is 
that  Marriage  is  no  longer  deemed  less  holy  than  Celibacy, 
Luther  took  a  wife  to  shew  that  he  respected  marriage, 
defying  the  calumnies  to  which  he  exposed  himself  by  such 
a  step.  It  was  his  duty  to  do  so,  as  it  was  also  to  eat  meat 
on  Fridays ;  to  prove  that  such  things  are  lawful  and  right, 
in  opposition  to  the  imagined  superiority  of  abstinence. 
The  Family  introduces  man  to  community — to  the  relation  of 
interdependence  in  society;  and  this  union  is  a  moral  one: 
while  on  the  other  hand  the  monks,  separated  from  the  sphere 
of  social  morality,  formed  as  it  were  the  standing  army  of  the 
Pope,  as  the  janizaries  formed  the  basis  of  the  Turkish 
power.  The  marriage  of  the  priests  entails  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  outward  distinction  between  laity  and  clergy. — 
Jkoreover  the  repudiation  of  work  no  longer  earned  the  repu- 
lation  of  sanctity ;  it  was  acknowledged  to  be  more  commen- 
dable for  men  to  rise  from  a  state  of  dependence  by  activity, 
intelligence,  and  industry,  and  make  themselves  independent. 
It  is  more  consonant  with  justice  that  he  who  has  money 
should  spend  it  even  in  luxuries,  than  that  he  should  give  it 
away  to  idlers  and  beggars;  for  he  bestows  it  on  an  equal  num- 
ber of  persons  by  so  doing,  and  these  must  at  any  rate  have 
worked  diligently  for  it.  Industry,  crafts  and  trades  now  have 
their  moral  validity  recognized,  and  the  obstacles  to  their 
prosperity  which  originated  with  the  Church,  have  vanished. 
For  the  Church  had  pronounced  it  a  sin  to  lend  money  on 
interest :  but  the  necessity  of  so  doing  led  to  the  direct 
violation  of  her  injunctions.  The  Lombards  (a  fact  which 


SECT.  III.      THE  MODERN  TIME. — THE  REFORMATION,    441 

accounts  for  the  use  of  the  term  "lombard"  in  French  to 
denote  a  loan-office),  and  particularly  the  House  of  Medici, 
advanced  money  to  princes  in  every  part  of  Europe.  The 
third  point  of  sanctity  in  the  Catholic  Church,  —  blind 
obedience,  was  likewise  denuded  of  its  false  pretensions. 
Obedience  to  the  laws  of  the  State,  as  the  Rational  element 
in.  volition  and  action,  was  made  the  principle  of  human  con- 
duct. In  this  obedience  man  is  free,  for  all  that  is  demanded 
is  that  the  Particular  should  yield  to  the  General.  Man 
himself  has  a  conscience ;  consequently  the  subjection  re- 
quired of  him  is  a  free  allegiance.  This  involves  the  possi- 
bility of  a  development  of  Reason  and  Freedom,  and  of  their 
introduction  into  human  relations ;  and  Reason  and  the 
Divine  commands  are  now  synonymous.  The  Rational  no 
longer  meets  with  contradiction  on  the  part  of  the  religious 
conscience;  it  is  permitted  to  develop  itself  in  its  own 
sphere  without  disturbance,  without  being  compelled  to 
resort  to  force  in  defending  itself  against  an  adverse  power. 
But  in  the  Catholic  Church,  that  adverse  element  is  uncon- 
ditionally sanctioned.  Where  the  Reformed  doctrine  pre- 
vails, princes  may  still  be  bad  governors,  but  they  are  uo> 
longer  sanctioned  and  solicited  thereto  by  the  promptings 
of  their  religious  conscience.  In  the  Catholic  Church  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  nothing  singular  for  the  conscience  to  be 
found  in  opposition  to  the  laws  of  the  State.  Assassinations 
of  sovereigns,  conspiracies  against  the  state,  and  the  like, 
have  often  been  supported  and  carried  into  execution  by  the 
priests. 

This  harmony  between  the  State  and  the  Church  has  now 
attained  immediate  realization.*  We  have,  as  yet,  no  recon- 
struction of  the  State,  of  the  system  of  jurisprudence,  &c.  for 
thought  must  first  discover  the  essential  principles  of  Right. 
The  Laws  of  Freedom  had  first  to  be  expanded  to  a  system 
as  deduced  from  an  absolute  principle  of  Right.  Spirit  does 
not  assume  this  complete  form  immediately  after  the  Refor- 
mation ;  it  limits  itself  at  first  to  direct  and  simple  changes, 
as  e.g.  the  doing  away  with  conventual  establishments  and 
episcopal  jurisdiction,  &c.  The  reconciliation  between  God 

*  That  is,  the  harmony  in  question  simply  exist*;  its  development  wxd 
reaulu  imve  uot  yet  manifested  themselves. — T*. 


442  PAET   IV.      THE    QliUMAF   WORLD. 

and  the  World  was  limited  in  the  first  instance  to  an  abstract 
form  ;  it  was  not  yet  expanded  into  a  system  by  which  the 
moral  world  could  be  regulated. 

In  the  first  instance  this  reconciliation  must  take  place  in 
the  individual  soul,  must  be  realized  by  feeling  ;  the  indivi- 
dual must  gain  the  assurance  that  the  Spirit  dwells  in  him, — 
that,  in  the  language  of  the  Church,  a  brokenness  of  heart  has 
been  experienced,  and  that  Divine  grace  has  entered  into  the 
heart  thus  broken.  By  Nature  man  is  not  what  he  ought 
to  be ;  only  through  a  transforming  process  does  he  arrive 
at  truth.  The  general  and  speculative  aspect  of  the  matter 
is  just  this — that  the  human  heart  is  not  what  it  should  be. 
It  was  then  required  of  the  individual  that  he  should  know 
what  he  is  in  himself;  that  is,  the  teaching  of  the  Churcn 
insisted  upon  man's  becoming  conscious  that  he  is  evil.  But 
the  individual  is  evil  only  when  the  Natural  manifests  itself  in 
mere  sensual  desire — when  an  unrighteous  will  presents 
itself  in  its  untamed,  untrained,  violent  shape ;  and  yet  it  is 
required  that  such  a  person  should  know  that  he  is  depraved, 
and  that  the  good  Spirit  dwells  in  him;  in  fact  he  is  required 
to  have  a  direct  consciousness  of  and  to  "  experience  "  that 
which  was  presented  to  him  as  a  speculative  and  implicit 
truth.  The  Reconciliation  having,  then,  assumed  this  ab- 
stract form,  men  tormented  themselves  with  a  view  to  force 
upon  their  souls  the  consciousness  of  their  sinfulness  and 
to  know  themselves  as  evil.  The  most  simple  souls,  the  most 
innocent  natures  were  accustomed  in  painful  introspection  to 
observe  the  most  secret  workings  of  the  heart,  with  a  view  to  a 
rigid  examination  of  them.  With  this  duty  was  conjoined  that 
of  an  entirely  opposite  description  ;  it  was  required  that  man 
should  attain  the  consciousness  that  the  good  Spirit  dwells 
in  him — that  Divine  Grace  has  found  an  entrance  into  his 
poul.  In  fact  the  important  distinction  between  the  know- 
ledge of  abstract  truth  and  the  knowledge  of  what  has 
actual  existence  was  left  out  of  sight.  Men  became  the  victims 
of  a  tormenting  uncertainty  as  to  whether  the  good  Spirit 
has  an  abode  in  thewi,  and  it  was  deemed  indispensable  that 
the  entire  process  of  spiritual  transformation  should  become 
perceptible  to  the  individual  himself.  An  echo  of  this  self 
tormenting  process  may  still  be  traced  in  much  of  the  reli- 
gious poetrj  of  that  time ;  the  Psalms  of  David  which  exhibit 


SECT.  III.       THE  MODERN  TIME. — THE  BEFORMATION.   443 

a  similar  character  were  then  introduced  as  hymns  into  the 
ritual  of  Protestant  Churches.  Protestantism  took  this  turn 
of  minute  and  painful  introspection,  possessed  with  the  con- 
viction of  the  importance  of  the  exercise,  and  was  for  a  long 
time  characterized  by  a  self-tormenting  disposition  and  an 
aspect  of  spiritual  wretchedness  ;  which  in  the  present  day 
has  induced  many  persons  to  enter  the  Catholic  pale,  that  they 
might  exchange  this  inward  uncertainty  for  a  formal  broa'd 
certainty  based  on  the  imposing  totality  of  the  Church.  A 
more  refined  order  of  reflection  upon  the  character  of  human 
actions  was  introduced  into  the  Catholic  Church  also.  The 
Jesuits  analysed  the  first  rudiments  of  volition  (velleitas) 
with  as  painful  minuteness  as  was  displayed  in  the  pious 
exercises  of  Protestantism  ;  but  they  had  a  science  of  casuis- 
try which  enabled  them  to  discover  a  good  reason  for  every 
thing,  and  so  get  rid  of  the  burden  of  guilt  which  this  rigid 
investigation  seemed  to  aggravate. 

"With  this  was  connected  another  remarkable  phenomenon, 
common  to  the  Catholic  with  the  Protestant  World.  The  hu- 
man mind  was  driven  into  the  Inward,  the  Abstract,  and  the 
Religious  element  was  regarded  as  utterly  alien  to  the  secular. 
That  lively  consciousness  of  his  subjective  life  and  of  the 
inward  origin  of  his  volition  that  had  been  awakened  in  man, 
brought  with  it  the  belief  in  Evil,  as  a  vast  power  the  sphere 
of  whose  malign  dominion  is  the  Secular.  This  belief  presents 
a  parallelism  with  the  view  in  which  the  sale  of  Indulgences 
originated:  for  as  eternal  salvation  could  be  secured  for 
money,  so  by  paying  the  price  of  one's  salvation  through 
a  compact  made  with  the  Devil,  the  riches  of  the  world  and 
the  unlimited  gratification  of  desires  and  passions  could  be 
secured.  Thus  arose  that  famous  legend  of  Faust,  who  in  dis- 
gust at  the  unsatisfactory  character  of  speculative  science/  is 
said  to  have  plunged  into  the  world  and  purchased  all  its  glory 
at  the  expense  of  his  salvation.  Faust,  if  we  may  trust  the 
poet,  had  the  enjoyment  of  all  that  the  world  could  give, 
in  exchange  for  his  soul's  weal ;  but  those  poor  women  who 
were  called  Witches  were  reputed  to  get  nothing  more  by  the 
bargain  than  the  gratification  of  a  petty  revenge  by  making 
a  neighbour's  cow  go  dry  or  giving  a  child  the  measles. 
But  in  awarding  punishment  it  was  not  the  magnitude  of 
the  injury  in  the  loss  of  the  milk  or  the  sickness  of  the 


444  PA.RT   IT.      THE    GERMAN   "WOBLD, 

child  that  was  considered  ;  it  was  the  abstract  power  of  the 
Evil  One  in  them  that  was  attacked.  The  belief  in  this 
abstract,  special  power  whose  dominion  is  the  world— in  the 
"Devil  and  his  devices — occasioned  an  incalculable  number 
of  trials  for  witchcraft  both  in  Catholic  and  Protestant 
countries.  It  was  impossible  to  prove  the  guilt  of  the  ac- 
cused ;  they  were  only  suspected :  it  was  therefore  only  a 
direct  knowledge  [one  not  mediated  by  proofs]  on  which 
this  fury  against  the  evil  principle  professed  to  be  based. 
Jt  was  indeed  necessary  to  have  recourse  to  evidence,  but 
the  basis  of  these  judicial  processes  was  simply  the  belief 
that  certain  individuals  were  possessed  by  the  power  of  the 
Evil  One.  This  delusion  raged  among  the  nations  in  the 
sixteenth  century  with  the  fury  of  a  pestilence.  The  main 
impulse  was  suspicion.  The  principle  of  suspicion  assumes 
a  similarly  terrible  shape  during  the  sway  of  the  Roman 
Emperors,  and  under  Robespierre's  Reign  of  Terror ;  when 
mere  disposition,  unaccompanied  by  any  overt  act  or  ex- 
pression, was  made  an  object  of  punishment.  Among  the 
Catholics,  it  was  the  Dominicans  to  whom  (as  was  the  Inqui- 
sition in  all  its  branches)  the  trials  for  witchcraft  were 
entrusted.  Father  Spec,  a  noble  Jesuit,  wrote  a  treatise 
against  them  (he  is  also  the  author  of  a  collection  of  fine 
poems  bearing  the  title  of  "  TrutznacJitigall^}  giving  a  full 
exposure  of  the  terrible  character  of  criminal  justice  in  pro- 
ceedings of  this  kind.  To^ure,  which  was  only  to  be  applied 
once,  was  continued  until  a  confession  was  extorted.  If  the 
accused  fainted  under  the  torture  it  was  averred  that  the 
Devil  was  giving  them  sleep  :  if  convulsions  supervened,  it 
was  said  that  the  Devil  was  laughing  in  them  ;  if  they  held 
out  steadfastly,  the  Devil  was  supposed  to  give  them  power. 
These  persecutions  spread  like  an  epidemic  sickness  through 
Italy,  France,  Spain  and  Germany.  The  earnest  remon- 
strances of  enlightened  men,  such  as  Spee  and  others, 
already  produced  a  considerable  effect.  But  it  was  Thoma- 
sius,  a  Professor  of  Halle,  who  first  opposed  this  prevalent 
superstition  with  very  decided  success.  The  entire  phenome- 
non is  in  itself  most  remarkable  when  we  reflect  that  we 
have  not  long  been  quit  of  this  frightful  barbarity  (even 
as  late  as  the  year  1780  a  witch  was  publicly  burned  at 
Glurus  in  Switzerland).  Among  the  Catholics  persecution 


BECT.    III.      THE    BEFORMAT1ON    AND    THE    STATE.       *45 

was  directed  against  heretics  as  well  as  against  witches :  we 
might  say  indeed  that  they  were  placed  in  one  category  ; 
the  unbelief  of  the  heretics  was  regarded  as  none  other 
than  the  indwelling  principle  of  Evil — a  possession  similar 
to  the  other. 

Leaving  this  abstract  form  of  Subjectiveness  we  have  now 
to  consider  the  secular  side — the  constitution  of  the  State 
and  the  advance  of  Universality — the  recognition  of  the 
universal  laws  of  Freedom.  This  is  the  second  and  the  essen- 
tial point. 


CHAPTER  II. 

INFLUENCE  OP  THE  REFORMATION  ON  POLITICAL 
DEVELOPMENT. 

IN  tracing  the  course  of  the  political  development  of  the 
period,  we  observe  in  the  first  place  the  consolidation  of 
Monarchy,  and  the  Monarch  invested  with  an  authority 
emanating  from  the  State.  The  incipient  -stage  in  the  rise 
of  royal  power,  and  the  commencement  of  that  unity  which 
the  states  of  Europe  attained,  belong  to  a  still  earlier  period. 
While  these  changes  were  going  forward,  the  entire  body  of 
private  obligations  and  rights  which  had  been  handed  down 
from  the  Middle  Age,  still  retained  validity.  Infinitely  im- 
portant is  this  form  of  private  rights,  which  the  organic 
constituents  of  the  executive  power  of  the  State  have  as- 
sumed. At  their  apex  we  find  a  fixed  and  positive  principle 
— the  exclusive  right  of  one  family  to  the  possession  of  the 
throne,  and  the  hereditary  succession  of  sovereigns  further 
restricted  by  the  law  of  primogeniture.  This  gives  the  State 
an  immovable  centre.  The  fact  that  Germany  was  an  elec- 
tive empire  prevented  its  being  consolidated  into  one  state  ; 
and  for  the  same  reason  Poland  has  vanished  from  the  circle 
of  independent  states.  The  State  must  have  a  final  decisive 
will :  but  if  an  individual  is  to  be  the  final  deciding  power, 
he  must  be  so  in  a  direct  and  natural  way,  not  as  deter- 
mined by  choice  and  theoretic  views,  <fcc.  Even  among 


416  PAUT  IT.    THE  GERMAN  WOELD. 

the  free  Greeks  the  oracle  was  the  external  power  which 
decided  their  policy  on  critical  occasions ;  here  birth  is  the 
oracle — something  independent  of  any  arbitrary  volition. 
But  the  circumstance  that  the  highest  station  in  a  monarchy 
is  assigned  to  a  family,  seems  to  indicate  that  the  sovereignty 
is  the  private  property  of  that  family.  As  such  that  sove- 
reignty would  seem  to  be  divisible ;  but  since  the  idea  of 
division  of  power  is  opposed  to  the  principle  of  the  state, 
the  rights  of  the  monarch  and  his  family  required  to  be 
more  strictly  defined.  Sovereign  possession  is  not  a  pecu- 
lium  of  the  individual  ruler,  but  is  consigned  to  the  dynastic 
family  as  a  trust;  and  the  estates  of  the  realm  possess  security 
that  that  trust  shall  be  faithfully  discharged,  for  they  have  to 
guard  the  unity  of  the  body  politic.  Thus,  then,  royal 
possession  no  longer  denotes  a  kind  of  private  property,  pri- 
vate possession  of  estates,  demesnes,  jurisdiction,  &c.,  but 
has  become  a  State-property — a  function  pertaining  to  and 
involved  with  the  State. 

Equally  important,  and  connected  with  that  just  no- 
ticed, is  the  change  of  executive  powers,  functions,  duties 
and  rights,  which  naturally  belong  to  the  State,  but  which 
had  become  private  property  and  private  contracts  or  obliga- 
tions— into  possession  conferred  by  the  State.  The  rights  of 
seigneurs  and  barons  were  annulled,  and  they  were  obliged 
to  content  themselves  with  official  positions  in  the  State. 
This  transformation  of  the  rights  of  vassals  into  official  func- 
tions took  place  in  the  several  kingdoms  in  various  ways. 
In  France,  e.g.,  the  great  Barons,  who  were  governors  of 
provinces,  who  could  claim  such  offices  as  a  mntter  of  right, 
and  who  like  the  Turkish  Pashas,  maintained  a  body  of 
troops  with  the  revenues  thence  derived — troops  which  they 
might  at  any  moment  bring  into  the  field  against  the  King — 
were  reduced  to  the  position  of  mere  landed  proprietors  or 
court  nobility,  and  those  Pashalics  became  offices  held  under 
the  government ;  or  the  nobility  were  employed  as  officers — 
generuls  of  the  army,  an  army  belonging  to  the  State.  In 
this  aspect  the  origination  of  standing  armies  is  so  important 
an  event;  for  they  supply  the  monarchy  with  an  independent 
force  and  are  as  necessary  for  the  security  of  the  central  au- 
thority against  the  rebellion  of  the  subject  individuals  as  for 
the  defence  of  the  state  against  foreign  enemies.  The  fiscal 


SECT.   III.      THE    REFORMATION    AND    THE    STATE.       4  17 

system  indeed  had  not  as  yet  assumed  a  systematic  charao 
tor,  —the  revenue  being  derived  from  customs,  taxes  and 
tolls  in  countless  variety,  besides  the  subsidies  and  contribu- 
tions paid  by  the  estates  of  the  realm  ;  in  return  for  which 
the  right  of  presenting  a  statement  of  grievances  was  con- 
ceded to  them,  as  is  now  the  case  in  Hungary. — In  Spain 
the  spirit  of  chivalry  had  assumed  a  very  beautiful  and  noble 
form.  This  chivalric  spirit,  this  knightly  dignity,  degraded 
to  a  mere  inactive  sentiment  of  honour,  has  attained 
notoriety  as  the  Spanish  grandezza.  The  Grandees  were 
no  longer  allowed  to  maintain  troops  of  their  own,  and  were 
also  withdrawn  from  the  command  of  the  armies ;  desti- 
tute of  power  they  had  to  content  themselves  as  private 
persons  with  an  empty  title.  But  the  means  by  which  the 
royal  power  in  Spain  was  consolidated,  was  the  Inquisition. 
This,  which  was  established  for  the  persecution  of  those  who 
secretly  adhered  to  Judaism,  and  of  Moors  and  heretics,  soon 
assumed  a  political  character,  being  directed  against  the  ene- 
mies of  the  State.  Thus  the  Inquisition  confirmed  the  despotic 
power  of  the  King:  it  claimed  supremacy  even  over  bishops 
and  archbishops,  and  could  cite  them  before  its  tribunal. 
The  frequent  confiscation  of  property — one  of  the  most  cus- 
tomary penalties  —  tended  to  enrich  the  treasury  of  the 
State.  Moreover,  the  Inquisition  was  a  tribunal  which  took 
cognizance  of  mere  suspicion;  and  while  it  consequently 
exercised  a  fearful  authority  over  the  clergy,  it  had  a  peculiar 
support  in  the  national  pride.  For  every  Spaniard  wished 
to  be  considered  Christian  by  descent,  and  this  species  of 
vanity  fell  in  with  the  views  and  tendency  of  the  Inquisition. 
Particular  provinces  of  the  Spanish  monarchy,  as  e.  g.  Arra- 
gon,  still  retained  many  peculiar  rights  and  privileges  ;  but 
the  Spanish  Kings  from  Philip  II.  downwards  proceeded  to 
suppress  them  altogether. 

It  would  lead  us  too  far  to  pursue  in  detail  the  process  of 
the  depression  of  the  aristocracy  in  the  several  states  of 
Europe.  The  main  scope  of  this  depressing  process  was,  as 
already  stated,  the  curtailment  of  the  private  rights  of  the 
feudal  nobility,  and  the  transformation  of  their  seigueurial 
authority  into  an  official  position  in  connection  with  the 
State.  This  change  was  in  the  interest  of  both  the  King 
mid  the  People.  The  powerful  barons  seemed  to  constitute 


418  PAttT    IV.      THE    GERMAN   WOBLD. 

an  intermediate  body  charged  with  the  defence  of  liberty ; 
but  properly  speaking,  it  was  only  their  own  privileges  which 
they  maintained  against  the  royal  power  on  the  one  hand 
and  the  citizens  on  the  other  hand.     The  barons  of  England 
extorted  Magna  Charta  from  the  King ;  but  the  citizens 
gained  nothing  by  it,  on  the  contrary  they  remained  in  their 
former  condition.     Polish  Liberty  too,  meant  nothing  more 
than  the  freedom  of  the  barons  in  contraposition  to  the 
King,  the  nation  being  reduced  to  a  state  of  absolute  serf- 
dom. When  liberty  is  mentioned,  we  must  always  be  careful 
to  observe  whether  it  is  not  really  the  assertion  of  private  in- 
terests which  is  thereby  designated.     For  although  the  nobi- 
lity were  deprived  of  their  sovereign  power,  the  people  were 
still  oppressed  in  consequence  of  their  absolute  dependence, 
their  serfdom,  and  subjection  to  aristocratic  jurisdiction ; 
and  they  were  partJv  declared  utterly  incapable  of  possessing 
property,  partly  subjected  to  a  condition  of  bond-service 
which  did  not  permit  of  their  freely  selling  the  products  of 
their  industry.     The  supreme  interest  of  emancipation  from 
this  condition  concerned  the  power  of  the  State  as  well  as 
the  subjects — that  emancipation  which  now  gave  them  as 
citizens  the  character  of  free  individuals,  and  determined 
that  what  was  to  be  performed  for  the  Commonwealth  should 
be  a  matter  of  just  allotment,  not  of  mere  chance.      The 
aristocracy  of  possession  maintains  that  possession  against 
both — viz.    against  the   power  of  the   State  at  large  and 
against  individuals.     But  the  aristocracy  have  a  position  as- 
signed them,  as  the  support  of  the  throne,  as  occupied  and 
active  on  behalf  of  the  State  and  the  common  weal,  and  at  the 
same  time  as  maintaining  the  freedom  of  the  citizens.     This 
in  fact  is  the  prerogative  of  that  class  which  forms  the  link 
between  the  Sovereign  and  the  People — to  undertake  to  dis- 
cern and  to  give  the  first  impulse  to  that  which  is  intrinsi- 
cally Kational  and  Universal ;  and  this  recognition  of  and 
occupation  with  the  Universal  must  take  the  place  of  positive 
personal  right.     This  subjection  to  the  Head  of  the  State  of 
that  intermediate  power  which  laid  claim  to  positive  au- 
thority was  now  accomplished,  but  this  did  not  involve  the 
emancipation  of  the  subject  class.     This  took  place  only  at 
a  later  date,  when  the  idea  of  right  in  and  for  itself  arose 
in  men's  minda.     Then  the  sovereigns  relying  on  their  re- 


SECT.    III.      THE    REFORMATION    AND    THE    STATE.       449 

speotive  peoples,  vanquished  the  caste  of  unrighteousness ; 
but  where  they  united  with  the  barons,  or  where  the  latter 
maintained  their  freedom  against  the  kings,  those  positive 
rights  or  rather  wrongs  continued. — 

We  observe  also  as  an  essential  feature  now  first  present- 
ing itself  in  the  political  aspect  of  the  time,  a  connected  sys- 
tem of  States  and  a  relation  of  States  to  each  other.  They 
became  involved  in  various  wars:  the  Kings  having  enlarged 
their  political  authority,  now  turn  their  attention  to  foreign 
lands,  insisting  upon  claims  of  all  kinds.  The  aim  and  real 
interest  of  the  wars  of  the  period  is  invariably  conquest. 

Italy  especially  had  become  such  an  object  of  desire, 
and  was  a  prey  to  the  rapacity  of  the  French,  the  Spaniards, 
and  at  a  later  date,  of  the  Austrians.  In  fact  absolute  disin- 
tegration and  dismemberment  has  always  been  an  essential 
feature  in  the  national  character  of  the  inhabitants  of  Italy, 
in  ancient  as  well  as  in  modern  times.  Their  stubborn  in- 
dividuality was  exchanged  for  a  union  the  result  of  force, 
under  the  Roman  dominion ;  but  as  soon  as  this  bond  was 
broken,  the  original  character  reappeared  in  full  strength. 
In  later  times,  as  if  finding  in  them  a  bond  of  union  otherwise 
impossible — after  having  escaped  from  a  selfishness  of  the 
most  monstrous  order  and  which  displayed  its  perverse 
nature  in  crimes  of  every  description — the  Italians  attained 
a  taste  for  the  Fine  Arts :  thus  their  civilization,  the  miti- 
gation of  their  selfishness,  reached  only  the  Grade  of  Beauty, 
not  that  of  Rationality — the  higher  unity  of  Thought.  Con- 
sequently, even  in  poetry  and  song  the  Italian  nature  is 
different  from  ours.  Improvisation  characterizes  the  genius 
of  the  Italians  ;  they  pour  out  their  very  souls  in  Art  and 
the  ecstatic  enjoyment  of  it.  Enjoying  a  naturel  so  imbued 
with  Art,  the  State  must  be  an  affair  of  comparative  indifr 
ference,  a  merely  casual  matter  to  the  Italians.  But  we 
have  to  observe  also  that  the  wars  in  which  Germany  en- 
gaged, were  not  particularly  honourable  to  it:  it  allowed 
Burgundy,  Lorraine,  Alsace,  and  other  parts  of  the  empire 
to  be  wrested  from  it.  From  these  wars  between  the 
various  political  powers  there  arose  common  interests,  and 
the  object  of  that  community  of  interest  was  the  mainte- 
nance of  severalty,— the  preservation  to  the  several  States  of 
their  independence,— in  fact  the  "  balance  of  power."  The 

2  » 


450  PART   IT.      THE    GERMAN    WoKLI>. 

motive  to  this  was  of  a  decidedly  "practical"  kind,  viz.  the 
protection  of  the  several  States  from  conquest.  The  union 
of  the  States  of  Europe  as  the  means  of  shielding  individual 
States  from  the  violence  of  the  powerful — the  preservation 
of  the  balance  of  power,  had  now  taken  the  place  of  thut 
general  aim  of  the  elder  time,  the  defence  of  Christendom, 
whose  centre  was  the  Papacy.  This  new  political  motive 
was  necessarily  accompanied  by  a  diplomatic  condition, — one 
in  which  all  the  members  of  the  great  European  sys- 
tem, however  distant,  felt  an  interest  in  that  which  hap- 
pened to  any  one  of  them.  Diplomatic  policy  had  been 
brought  to  the  greatest  refinement  in  Italy,  and  was  thence 
transmitted  to  Europe  at  large.  Several  princes  in  suc- 
cession seemed  to  threaten  the  stability  of  the  balance  of 
power  in  Europe.  When  this  combination  of  States  was 
;ust  commencing,  Charles  V.  was  aiming  at  universal  mon- 
archy ;  for  he  was  Emperor  of  Germany  and  King  of  Spain 
to  boot :  the  Netherlands  and  Italy  acknowledged  his  sway, 
and  the  whole  wealth  of  America  flowed  into  his  coffers. 
"With  this  enormous  power,  which,  like  the  contingencies  of 
fortune  in  the  case  of  private  property,  had  been  accumu- 
lated by  the  most  felicitous  combinations  of  political  dex- 
terity,— among  other  things  by  marriage, —but  which  was 
destitute  of  an  internal  and  reliable  bond,  he  was  nevertheless 
unable  to  gain  any  advantage  over  France,  or  even  over  the 
German  princes  ;  nay  he  was  even  compelled  to  a  peace  by 
Maurice  of  Saxony.  His  whole  life  was  spent  in  sup- 
pressing disturbances  in  all  parts  of  hia  e.mpire  and  in 
conducting  foreign  wars.  The  balance  of  power  in  Europe 
was  similarly  threatened  by  Louis  the  Fourteenth.  Through 
that  depression  of  the  grandees  of  his  kingdom  which 
Kichelieu  and  after  him  Mazarin  had  accomplished,  he  had 
become  an  absolute  sovereign.  France,  too,  had  the  con- 
sciousness of  its  intellectual  superiority  in  a  refinement  of 
culture  surpassing  anything  of  which  the  rest  of  Europe 
could  boast.  The  pretensions  of  Louis  were  founded  not 
on  extent  of  dominion,  (as  was  the  case  with  Charles  V.)  so 
much  as  on  that  culture  which  distinguished  his  people,  and 
which  at  that  time  made  its  way  everywhere  with  the  lan- 
guage that  embodied  it,  and  was  the  object  of  universal 
admiration  :  they  could  therefore  plead  a  higher  justification 


SECT.    III.       THE  REFORMATION  AND  TIJI  STATE.        451 

than  those  of  the  German  Emperor.  But  the  very  rock  on 
which  the  vast  military  resources  of  Philip  II.  had  al- 
ready foundered — the  heroic  resistance  of  the  Dutch — proved 
fatal  also  to  the  ambitious  schemes  of  Louis.  Charles  the 
Twelfth  also  presented  a  remarkably  menacing  aspect ;  but 
his  ambition  had  a  Quixotic  tinge  and  was  less  sustained  b^ 
intrinsic  vigour.  Through  all  these  storms  the  nations  o 
Europe  succeeded  in  maintaining  their  individuality  and 
independence. 

An  external  relation  in  which  the  States  of  Europe  had 
an  interest  in  common,  was  that  sustained  to  the  Turks — 
the  terrible  power  which  threatened  to  overwhelm  Europe 
from  the  East.  The  Turks  of  that  day  had  still  a  sound  and 
vigorous  nationality,  whose  power  was  based  on  conquest,  and 
which  was  therefore  engaged  in  constant  warfare,  or  at  least 
admitted  only  a  temporary  suspension  of  arms.  As  was 
the  case  among  the  Franks,  the  conquered  territories  were 
divided  among  their  warriors  as  personal,  not  heritable  pos- 
sessions ;  when  in  later  times  the  principle  of  hereditary 
succession  was  adopted,  the  national  vigour  was  shattered. 
The  flower  of  the  Osmari  force,  the  Janizaries,  were  the 
terror  of  the  Europeans.  Their  ranks  were  recruited  from 
a  body  of  Christian  boys  of  handsome  and  vigorous  propor- 
tions, brought  together  chiefly  by  means  of  annual  con- 
scriptions among  the  Greek  subjects  of  the  Porte,  strictly 
educated  in  the  Moslem  faith,  and  exercised  in  arms  from 
early  youth.  Without  parents,  without  brothers  or  sisters, 
without  wives,  they  were,  like  the  monks,  an  altogether 
isolated  and  terrible  corps.  The  Eastern  European  powers 
were  obliged  to  make  common  cause  against  the  Turks — viz.: 
Austria,  Hungary,  Venice  and  Poland.  The  battle  of  Le- 
panto  saved  Italy,  and  perhaps  all  Europe,  from  a  barbarian 
inundation. 

An  event  of  special  importance  following  in  the  train  of 
the  Reformation  was  the  struggle  of  the  Protestant  Church 
for  political  existence.  The  Protestant  Church,  even  in 
its  original  aspect,  was  too  intimately  connected  with  secular 
interests  not  to  occasion  secular  complications  and  political 
contentions  respecting  political  possession.  The  subjects 
of  Catholic  princes  become  Protestant,  have  and  make 
claims  to  ecclesiastical  property,  change  the  nature  of  the 


452  PART  IV.       THE  GERMAN  WORLD. 

tenure,  and   repudiate  or  decline  the   discharge  of   those 
ecclesiastical  functions  to  whose  due  performance  the  emo- 
luments are  attached   (jura  stola).      Moreover  a  Catholic 
government  is  bound  to  be   the  brachium  seculare,  of  the 
Church ;  the  Inquisition,  e.g.  never  put  a  man  to  death,  but 
simply  declared  him  a  heretic,  as  a  kind  of  jury;  he  was  then 
punished  according  to  civil  laws.     Again,  innumerable  occa- 
sions of  offence  and  irritation  originated  with  processions  and 
feasts,  the  carrying  of  the  Host  through  the  streets,  with- 
drawals from  convents,  &c.     Still  more  excitement  would  be 
felt  when  an  Archbishop  of  Cologne  attempted  to  make  his 
archiepiscopate  a  secular   princedom   for    himself  and   his 
family.     Their  confessors  made  it  a  matter  of  conscience 
with  Catholic  princes  to  wrest  estates  that  had  been  the 
property  of  the  Church  out  of  the  hands  of  the  heretics. 
In  Germany,  however,  the  condition  of  things  was  favour- 
able to  Protestantism  in  as  far  as  the  several   territories 
which   had  been   imperial   fiefs,  had    become   independent 
principalities.     But  in  countries  like  Austria,  the  princes 
were  indifferent  to  Protestants,  or  even  hostile  to  them; 
and  in   France   they   were    not   safe    in   the   exercise    of 
their  religion  except  as  protected  by  fortresses.     War  was 
the  indispensable  preliminary  to  the  security  of  Protestants  ; 
for  the  question  was  not  one  of  simple  conscience,  but  in- 
volved  decisions   respecting    public   and   private    property 
which  had  been  taken  possession  of  in  contravention  of  the 
rights  of  the  Church,  and  whose  restitution  it  demanded. 
A    condition   of  absolute   mistrust  supervened ;   absolute, 
because  mistrust  bound  up  with  the  religious  conscience 
was  its  root.     The  Protestant  princes  and  towns  formed  at 
that  time  a  feeble  union,  and  the  defensive  operations  they 
conducted  were  much  feebler  still.     After  they  had  been 
worsted,  Maurice  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  by  an  utterly  unex- 
pected and  adventurous  piece  of  daring,  extorted  a  peace,  it- 
self of  doubtful  interpretation,  and  wnich  left  the  real  sources 
of  embitterment  altogether  untouched.     It  was  necessary  to 
fight  out  the  battle  from  the  very  beginning.     This  took 
place  in  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  in  which  first  Denmark  and 
then  Sweden  undertook  the  cause  of  freedom.     The  former 
was  compelled  to  quit  the  field,  but  the  latter  under  Gustavus 
Adolphus — that  hero  of  the  North  of  glorious  memory-^ 
played  a  part  which  was  BO  much  the  more  brilliant  inas- 


SECT.  III.       THE  REFORMATION  AND  TEE  STATE.        453 

much  as  it  began  to  wage  war  with  the  vast  force  of  the 
Catholics,  alone — without  the  help  of  the  Protestant  states 
of  the  Empire.  The  powers  of  Europe,  with  a  few  excep- 
tions, precipitate  themselves  on  Germany, — flowing  back 
towards  it  as  to  the  fountain  from  which  they  had  originally 
issued,  and  where  now  the  right  of  inwardness  that  has 
come  to  manifest  itself  in  the  sphere  of  religion,  and  that  of 
internal  independence  and  severalty  is  to  be  fought  out. 
The  struggle  ends  without  an  Ideal  result — without  having 
attained  the  consciousness  of  a  principle  as  an  intellectual 
concept— in  the  exhaustion  of  all  parties,  in  a  scene  of  utter 
desolation,  where  all  the  contending  forces  have  been 
wrecked  ;  it  issues  in  letting  parties  simply  take  their  course 
and  maintain  their  existence  on  the  basis  of  external  power. 
The  issue  is  in  fact  exclusively  of  a  political  nature. 

In  England  also,  war  was  indispensable  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Protestant  Church  :  the  struggle  was  in  this 
case  directed  against  the  sovereigns,  who  were  secretly  at- 
tached to  Catholicism  because  they  found  the  principle  of 
absolute  sway  confirmed  by  its  doctrines.  The  fanaticised 
people  rebelled  against  the  assumption  of  absolute  sovereign 
power — importing  that  Kings  are  responsible  to  God  alone 
(i.e.  to  the  .Father  Confessor) — and  in  opposition  to  Catholic 
externality,  unfurled  the  banner  of  extreme  subjectivity  in 
Puritanism — a  principle  which,  developing  itself  in  the  real 
world,  presents  an  aspect  partly  of  enthusiastic  elevation, 
partly  of  ridiculous  incongruity.  The  enthusiasts  of  Eng- 
land, like  those  of  Minister,  were  for  having  the  State 
governed  directly  by  the  fear  of  God ;  the  soldiery  sharing 
the  same  fanatical  views  prayed  while  they  fought  for  the 
cause  they  had  espoused.  But  a  military  leader  now  has 
the  physical  force  of  the  country  and  consequently  the 
government  in  his  hands :  for  in  the  State  there  must  be 
government,  and  Cromwell  knew  what  governing  is.  He, 
therefore,  made  himself  ruler,  and  sent  that  praying  parlia- 
ment about  their  business.  With  his  death  however  his 
right  to  authority  vanished  also,  and  the  old  dynasty  regained 
possession  of  the  throne.  Catholicism,  we  may  observe, 
is  commended  to  the  support  of  princes  as  promoting  the 
security  of  their  government  — a  position  suppo^ed  to  be  par- 
ticularly manifest  if  the  Inquisition  be  connected  with  ih« 


454  PART  IT.       T13E  GERMAN  WORLD. 

government ;  the  former  constituting  the  bulu  ark  of  the 
latter.  But  such  a  security  is  based  on  a  slavish  religious 
obedience,  and  is  limited  to  those  grades  of  human  deve- 
lopment in  which  the  political  constitution  and  the  whole 
legal  system  still  rest  on  the  basis  of  actual  positive  posses- 
sion ;  but  if  the  constitution  and  laws  are  to  be  founded  on 
a  veritable  eternal  Eight,  then  security  is  to  be  found  only 
in  the  Protestant  religion,  in  whose  principle  Rational  Sub- 
jective Freedom  also  attains  development.  The  Dutch  too 
offered  a  vigorous  opposition  to  the  Catholic  principle  as 
bound  up  with  the  Spanish  sovereignty.  Belgium  was  still 
attached  to  he  Catholic  religion  and  remained  subject  to 
Spain :  on  the  contrary,  the  northern  part  of  the  Nether- 
lands— Holland — stood  its  ground  with  heroic  valour  against 
its  oppressors.  The  trading  class,  the  guilds  and  companies 
of  marksmen  formed  a  militia  whose  heroic  courage  was 
more  than  a  match  for  the  then  famous  Spanish  infantry. 
Just  as  the  Swiss  peasants  had  resisted  the  chivalry  of 
Austria,  so  here  the  trading  cities  held  out  against  disciplined 
troops.  During  this  struggle  on  the  Continent  itself,  the 
Dutch  fitted  out  fleets  and  deprived  the  Spaniards  of  part 
of  their  colonial  possessions,  from  which  all  their  wealth 
\vas  derived.  As  independence  was  secured  to  Holland  in 
its  holding  to  the  Protestant  principle,  so  that  of  Poland 
was  lost  through  its  endeavour  to  suppress  that  principle  in 
the  case  of  dissidents. 

Through  the  Peace  of  Westphalia  the  Protestant  Church 
had  been  acknowledged  as  an  independent  one — to  the  great 
confusion  and  humiliation  of  Catholicism.  This  peace  has 
often  passed  for  the  palladium  of  Germany,  as  having  estab- 
lished its  political  constitution.  But  this  constitution  was 
in  fact  a  confirmation  of  the  particular  rights  of  the  countries 
into  which  Germany  had  been  broken  up.  It  involves  no 
thought,  no  conception  of  the  proper  aim  of  a  state.  We 
should  consult  "  Hippolytus  a  lapide  "  (a  book  which,  written 
before  the  conclusion  of  the  peace,  had  a  great  influence  on 
the  condition  of  the  Empire)  if  we  would  become  acquainted 
with  the  character  of  that  German  freedom  of  which  so  much 
is  made.  In  the  peace  in  question  the  establishment  of  a 
complete  particularity,  the  determination  of  all  relations  on 
the  principle  of  private  right  is  the  object  manifestly  cou« 


SECT.  III.      THE  REFORMATION  AND  THE  STATE.       4.55 

templated — a  constituted  anarchy ',  such  as  the  world  had  never 
before  seen ; — i.e.  the  position  that  an  Empire  is  properly  a 
unity,  a  totality,  a  state,  while  yet  all  relations  are  deter- 
mined so  exclusively  on  the  principle  of  private  right  that 
the  privilege  of  all  the  constituent  parts  of  that  Empire  to 
act  for  themselves  contrarily  to  the  interest  of  the  whole, 
or  to  neglect  that  which  its  interest  demands  and  which  is 
even  required  by  law, — is  guaranteed  and  secured  by  the 
most  inviolable  sanctions.  Immediately  after  this  settle- 
ment, it  was  shewn  what  the  German  Empire  was  as  a  state 
in  relation  to  other  states  :  it  waged  ignominious  wars  with 
the  Turks,  for  deliverance  from  whom  Vienna  was  indebted 
to  Poland.  Still  more  ignominious  was  its  relation  to 
France,  which  took  possession  in  time  of  peace  of  free  cities, 
the  bulwarks  of  Germany,  and  of  flourishing  provinces,  and 
retained  them  undisturbed. 

This  constitution,  which  completely  terminated  the  career 
of  Germany  as  an  Empire,  was  chiefly  the  work  of  Richelieu, 
by  whose  assistance — Romish  Cardinal  though  he  was — 
religious  freedom  in  Germany  was  preserved.  Richelieu, 
with  a  view  to  further  the  interests  of  the  State  whose 
affairs  he  superintended,  adopted  the  exact  opposite  of  that 
policy  which  he  promoted  in  the  case  of  its  enemies ;  for 
he  reduced  the  latter  to  political  impotence  by  ratifying  the 
political  independence  of  the  several  parts  of  the  Empire, 
while  at  home  he  destroyed  the  independence  of  the  Protes- 
tant party.  His  fate  has  consequently  resembled  that  of 
many  great  statesmen,  inasmuch  as  he  has  been  cursed  by  his 
countrymen,  while  his  enemies  have  looked  upon  the  work 
by  which  he  ruined  them  as  the  most  sacred  goal  of  their 
desires,— the  consummation  of  their  rights  and  liberties. 

The  result  of  the  struggle  therefore  was  the  forcibly 
achieved  and  now  politically  ratified  coexistence  of  religious 
parties,  forming  political  communities  whose  relations  are 
determined  according  to  prescriptive  principles  of  civil  or 
[rather,  for  such  their  true  nature  was,]  of  private  right. 

The  Protestant  Church  increased  and  so  perfected  the 
etability  of  its  political  existence  by  the  fact  that  one  of  the 
states  which  had  adopted  the  principles  of  the  Reformation 
raised  itself  to  the  position  of  an  independent  European 
power.  This  power  was  destined  to  start  into  a  new  life 


1-56  PART  IV.       THE    GERMAN  WORT.D. 

with  Protestantism  :  Prussia,  viz.,  which  making  its  appear- 
ance at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  was  indebted, 
if  not  for  origination,  yet  certainly  for  the  consolidation  of 
its  strength,  to  Frederick  the  Great ;  and  the  Seven  Tears' 
War  was  the  struggle  by  which  that  consolidation  was  ac- 
complished. Frederick  II.  demonstrated  the  independent 
vigour  of  his  power  by  resisting  that  of  almost  all  Europe — 
the  union  of  its  leading  states.  He  appeared  as  the  hero 
of  Protestantism,  and  that  not  individually  merely,  like 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  but  as  the  ruler  of  a  state.  The  Seven 
Tears'  War  was  indeed  in  itself  not  a  war  of  religion ;  but 
it  was  so  in  view  of  its  ultimate  issues,  and  in  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  soldiers  as  well  as  of  the  potentates  under  whose 
banner  they  fought.  The  Pope  consecrated  the  sword  of 
Field-Marshal  Daun,  and  the  chief  object  which  the  Allied 
Powers  proposed  to  themselves,  was  the  crushing  of  Prussia 
as  the  bulwark  of  the  Protestant  Church.  But  Frederick 
the  Great  not  only  made  Prussia  one  of  the  great  powers  of 
Europe  as  a  Protestant  power,  but  was  also  a  philosophica1 
King — an  altogether  peculiar  and  unique  phenomenon  in 
modern  times.  There  had  been  English  Kings  who  were 
subtle  theologians,  contending  for  the  principle  of  abso- 
lutism :  Frederick  on  the  contrary  took  up  the  Protestant 
principle  in  its  secular  aspect ;  and  though  he  was  by  no 
means  favourable  to  religious  controversies,  and  did  not  side 
with  one  party  or  the  other,  he  had  the  consciousness  of 
Universality,  which  is  the  profoundest  depth  to  which  Spirit 
can  attain,  and  is  Thought  conscious  of  its  own  inherent 
power. 

CHAPTEE  III. 
THE  ECLAIRCISSEMENT  AND  REVOLUTION.* 

PROTESTANTISM  had  introduced  the  principle  of  Sub- 
jectivity, importing  religious  emancipation  and  inward  har- 

*  There  is  no  current  term  in  English  denoting  that  great  intellectual 
movement  which  dates  from  the  first  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
jtnd  which,  if  not  the  chief  cause,  was  certHinly  the  guiding  genius  of  the 
French  Revolution.  The  word  "  Illuminati,"  (signifying  the  members  of 
«n  imagimiry  confederacy  for  propagating  the  open  secret  of  the  day)  might 
ausrzest  "  Illumination,"  as  an  equivalent  for  the  Germxn  "  Aufklarung  ;" 
but  tiie  French  "  Eclairci^  mem "  couveys  a  more  sot  cific  idea. —  fr. 


8ECT.  III.     THE  ECLAIRCISSEMENT  AND  REVOLUTION.     4)57 

mony,  but  accompanying  this  with  the  belief  in  Subjectivity 
as  Evil,  and  in  a  power  [adverse  to  man's  highest  interests] 
whose  embodiment  is  "the  World."  "Within  the  Catholic 
pale  also,  the  casuistry  of  the  Jesuits  brought  into  vogue 
interminable  investigations,  as  tedious  and  wire-drawn  as 
those  in  which  the  scholastic  theology  delighted,  respecting 
the  subjective  spring  of  the  Will  and  the  motives  that  affect 
it.  This  Dialectic,  which  unsettles  all  particular  judgments 
and  opinions,  transmuting  the  Evil  into  Good  and  Good 
into  Evil,  left  at  last  nothing  remaining  but  the  mere  action 
of  subjectivity  itself,  the  Abstractum  of  Spirit — Thought, 
Thought  contemplates  everything  under  the  form  of  Uni- 
versality, and  is  consequently  the  impulsion  towards  and 
production  of  the  Universal.  In  that  elder  scholastic  the- 
ology the  real  subject-matter  of  investigation — the  doctrine 
of  the  Church,  remained  an  ultramundane  affair;  in  the  Pro- 
testant theology  also  Spirit  still  sustained  a  relation  to  the 
Ultramundane  ;  for  on  the  one  side  we  have  the  will  of  the 
individual  —the  Spirit  of  Man — I  myself,  and  on  the  other 
the  Grace  of  God,  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  so  in  the  Wicked, 
the  Devil.  But  in  Thought,  Self  moves  within  the  limits 
of  its  own  sphere ;  that  with  which  it  is  occupied — its  objects 
are  as  absolutely  present  to  it  [as  they  were  distinct  and 
separate  in  the  intellectual  grade  above  mentioned]  ;  for  in 
thinking  I  must  elevate  the  object  to  Universality.*  This 
is  utter  and  absolute  Freedom,  for  the  pure  Ego,  like  pure 
Light,  is  with  itself  alone  [is  not  involved  with  any  alien 
principle]  ;  thus  that  which  is  diverse  from  itself,  sensuous 
or  spiritual,  no  longer  presents  an  object  of  dread,  for  in  con- 
templating such  diversity  it  is  inwardly  free  and  can  freely 
confront  it.  A  practical  interest  makes  use  of,  consumes  the 
objects  offered  to  it :  a  theoretical  interest  calmly  contem- 
plates them,  assured  that  in  themselves  they  present  no  alien 
element. — Consequently,  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  Inwardness, 
of  Subjectiveness,  is  Thought.  Man  is  not  free,  when  he  ia 

*  Abstractions  (pure  thoughts,)  are,  vi  termini,  detached  from  the 
material  objects  which  suggested  them,  arid  are  at  least  as  evidently  the 
product  of  the  thinking  mind  as  of  the  external  world.  Hence  they  are 
ridiculed  by  the  unintelligent  as  mere  fancies.  In  proportion  as  such 
abstractions  involve  activity  and  intensity  of  thought,  the  mind  may  be 
said  to  be  occupied  with  itself  in  contemplating  them. — Tr. 


458  PART    IV.      THE     GERMAN    WORLD. 

not  thinking ;  for  except  when  thus  engaged  he  sustains  a  rela- 
tion to  the  world  around  him  as  to  an  other,  an  alien  form  of 
being.  This  comprehension — the  penetration  of  the  Ego  into 
and  beyond  other  forms  of  being  with  the  most  profound  self- 
certainty,  [the  identity  of  subjective  and  objective  Reason 
being  recognized,]  directly  involves  the  harmonization  of 
Being :  for  it  must  be  observed  that  the  unity  of  Thought  with 
its  Object  is  already  implicitly  present  [i.e.  in  the  fundamental 
constitution  of  the  Universe,]  for  Reason  is  the  substantinl 
basis  of  Consciousness  as  well  as  of  the  External  and 
Natural.  Thus  that  which  presents  itself  as  the  Object  of 
Thought  is  no  longer  an  absolutely  distinct  form  of  existence 
[ein  Jenseits],  not  of  an  alien  and  grossly  substantial,  [as 
opposed  to  intelligible,]  nature. 

Thought  is  the  grade  to  which  Spirit  has  now  advanced. 
Tt  involves  the  Harmony  of  Being  in  its  purest  essence, 
challenging  the  external  world  to  exhibit  the  same  Reason 
which  Subject  [the  Ego]  possesses.  Spirit  perceives  that 
Nature — the  World — must  also  be  an  embodiment  of  Reason, 
for  God  created  it  on  principles  of  Reason.  An  interest  in 
the  contemplation  and  comprehension  of  the  present  world 
became  .universal.  Nature  embodies  Universality,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  nothing  other  than  Sorts,  Genera,  Power,  Gravitation, 
&c.,  phenomenally  presented.  Thus  Experimental  Science 
became  the  science  of  the  World ;  for  experimental  science 
involves  on  the  one  hand  the  observation  of  phenomena, 
on  the  other  hand  also  the  discovery  of  the  Law;  the  essen- 
tial being,  the  hidden  force  that  causes  those  phenomena — 
thus  reducing  the  data  supplied  by  observation  to  their 
simple  principles.  Intellectual  consciousness  was  first  ex- 
tricated from  that  sophistry  of  thought,  which  unsettles 
everything,  by  Descartes.  As  it  was  the  purely  German 
nations  among  whom  the  principle  of  Spirit  first  manifested 
itself,  so  it  was  by  the  Romanic  nations  that  the  abstract 
idea  (to  which  the  character  assigned  them  above — viz.,  that 
of  internal  schism,  more  readily  conducted  them)  was  first 
comprehended.  Experimental  science  therefore  very  soon 
made  its  way  among  them  (in  common  with  the  Protest- 
ant English),  but  especially  among  the  Italians.  It  seemed 
to  men  as  if  God  had  but  just  created  the  moon  and  stars, 
pJauts  and  animals,  as  if  the  laws  of  the  universe  were  now 


SECT.  III.      TIIE  ECLAIBCISSEMENT  ASD  REVOLUTION.     459 

established  for  the  first  time ;  for  only  then  did  they  feel  a 
real  interest  ill  the  universe,  when  they  recognized  their  own 
Reason  in  the  Reason  which  pervades  it.  The  human  eye 
became  clear,  perception  quick,  thought  active  and  interpre- 
tative. The  discovery  of  the  laws  of  Nature  enabled  men 
to  contend  against  the  monstrous  superstition  of  the  time, 
as  also  against  all  notions  of  mighty  alien  powers  which 
magic  alone  could  conquer.  The  assertion  was  even  ven- 
tured on,  and  that  by  Catholics  not  less  than  by  Protestants, 
that  the  External  [and  Material],  with  which  the  Church 
insisted  upon  associating  superhuman  virtue,  was  external 
and  material,  and  nothing  more — that  the  Host  was  simply 
dough,  the  relics  of  the  Saints  mere  bones.  The  independent 
authority  of  Subjectivity  was  maintained  against  belief 
founded  on  authority,  and  the  Laws  of  Nature  were  recog- 
nized as  the  only  bond  connecting  phenomena  with  phe- 
nomena. Thus  all  miracles  were  disallowed :  for  Nature 
is  a  system  of  known  and  recognized  Laws  ;  Man  is  at  home 
in  it,  and  that  only  passes  for  truth  in  which  he  finds  himself 
at  home  ;  he  is  free  through  the  acquaintance  he  has  gained 
with  Nature.  Nor  was  thought  less  vigorously  directed  to 
the  Spiritual  side  of  things :  Right  and  [Social]  Morality 
came  to  be  looked  upon  as  having  their  foundation  in  the 
actual  present  Will  of  man,  whereas  formerly  it  was  referred 
only  to  the  command  of  God  enjoined  db  extra,  written  in 
the  Old  and  New  Testament,  or  appearing  in  the  form  of 
particular  Right  [as  opposed  to  that  based  on  general  prin- 
ciples] in  old  parchments,  as  privilegia,  or  in  international 
compacts.  What  the  nations  acknowledge  as  international 
Right  was  deduced  empirically  from  observation  (as  in  the 
work  of  Grotius)  ;  then  the  source  of  the  existing  civil  and 
political  law  was  looked  for,  after  Cicero's  fashion,  in  those 
instincts  of  men  which  Nature  has  planted  in  their  hearts — • 
e.g.,  the  social  instinct ;  next  the  principle  of  security  for  the 
person  and  property  of  the  citizens,  and  of  the  advantage  of  the 
commonwealth — that  which  belongs  to  the  class  of  "  reasons 
of  State."  On  these  principles  private  rights  were  on  the 
one  hand  despotically  contravened,  but  on  the  other  hand  such 
contravention  was  the  instrument  of  carrying  out  the  general 
objects  of  the  State  in  opposition  to  mere  positive  or  pre- 


4(50  PART    IV.       THE    GERMAN    WORLD. 

ecriptive  claims.  Frederick  II.  may  be  mentioned  as  the 
ruler  who  inaugurated  the  new  epoch  in  the  sphere  of  prac- 
tical life — that  epoch  in  which  practical  political  interest 
attains  Universality  [is  recognized  as  an  abstract  principle], 
and  receives  an  absolute  sanction.  Frederick  II. merits  especial 
notice  as  having  comprehended  the  general  object  of  the 
State,  and  as  having  been  the  first  sovereign  who  kept  the 
general  interest  of  the  State  steadily  in  view,  ceasing  to 
pay  any  respect  to  particular  interests  when  they  stood  in 
the  way  of  the  common  weal.  His  immortal  work  is  a 
domestic  code — the  Prussian  municipal  law.  How  the  head 
of  a  household  energetically  provides  and  governs  with  a  view 
to  the  weal  of  that  household  and  of  his  dependents — of 
this  he  has  given  a  unique  specimen. 

These  general  conceptions,  deduced  from  actual  and  present 
consciousness — the  Laws  of  Nature  and  the  substance  of 
what  is  right  and  good — have  received  the  name  of  Reason. 
The  recognition  of  the  validity  of  these  laws  was  designated 
by  the  term  Eclaircissement  (Aufklarung).  From  France  it 
passed  over  into  Germany,  and  created  a  new  world  of  ideas. 
The  absolute  criterion  —  taking  the  place  of  all  authority 
based  on  religious  belief  and  positive  laws  of  Eight  (especially 
political  Right) — is  the  verdict  passed  by  Spirit  itself  on  the 
character  of  that  which  is  to  be  believed  or  obeyed.  After  a 
free  investigation  in  open  day,  Luther  had  secured  to  man- 
kind Spiritual  Freedom  and  the  Reconciliation  [of  the  Ob- 
jective and  Subjective]  in  the  concrete  :  he  triumphantly 
established  the  position  that  man's  eternal  destiny  [his 
spiritual  and  moral  position]  must  be  wrought  out  in  himself 
[cannot  be  an  opus  operatum,  a  work  performed  for  him]. 
But  the  import  of  that  which  is  to  take  place  in  him — what 
truth  is  to  become  vital  in  him,  was  taken  for  granted  by 
Luther  as  something  already  given,  something  revealed  by 
religion.  Now  the  principle  was  set  up  that  this  import 
must  be  capable  of  actual  investigation — something  of  which 
I  [in  this  modern  time]  can  gain  an  inward  conviction — and 
that  to  this  basis  of  inward  demonstration  every  dogma  must 
be  referred. 

This  principle  of  thought  makes  its  appearance  in  the  first 
instance  in  a  general  and  abstract  form  ;  and  is  based  on  the 


MKCT.  III.      THE  ECLAIRCISSFMENT  AND  REYOLTJTIOIT.     461 

axiom  of  Contradiction  and  Identity.*  The  results  of 
thought  are  thus  posited  as  finite,  and  the  eclaircissement 
utterly  banished  and  extirpated  all  that  was  speculative  from 
things  human  and  divine.  Although  it  is  of  incalculable  im- 
portance that  the  multiform  complex  of  things  should  be 
reduced  to  its  simplest  conditions,  and  brought  into  the  form 
of  Universality,  yet  this  still  abstract  principle  does  not 
satisfy  the  living  Spirit,  the  concrete  human  soul. 

This  formally  absolute  principle  brings  us  to  the  last  stage 
in  History,  our  world,  our  own  time. 

Secular  life  is  the  positive  and  definite  embodiment  of  the 
Spiritual  Kingdom — the  Kingdom  of  the  Will  manifesting 
itself  in  outward  existence.  Mere  impulses  are  also  forma 
in  which  the  inner  life  realizes  itself;  but  these  are  transient 
and  disconnected ;  they  are  the  ever  changing  applications 
of  volition.  But  that  which  is  just  and  moral  belongs  to  the 
essential,  independent,  intrinsically  universal  Will;  and  if 
we  would  know  what  Bight  really  is,  we  must  abstract  from 
inclination,  impulse  and  desire  as  the  particular ;  i.e.,  we 
must  know  what  the  Will  is  in  itself.  For  benevolent, 
charitable,  social  impulses  are  nothing  more  than  impulses — 
to  which  others  of  a  different  class  are  opposed.  What  the 
Will  is  in  itself  can  be  known  only  when  these  specific  and 
contradictory  forms  of  volition  have  been  eliminated.  Then 
Will  appears  as  Will,  in  its  abstract  essence.  The  Will  is 
Free  only  when  it  does  not  will  anything  alien,  extrinsic, 
foreign  to  itself  (for  as  long  as  it  does  so,  it  is  dependent), 
but  wills  itself  alone— wills  the  Will.  This  is  absolute  Will 
— the  volition  to  be  free.  Will  making  itself  its  own  object 
is  the  basis  of  all  Eight  and  Obligation — consequently  of  all 
statutory  determinations  of  Bight,  categorical  imperatives, 
and  enjoined  obligations.  The  Freedom  of  the  Will  per  se, 
is  the  principle  and  substantial  basis  of  all  Bight — is  itself 
absolute,  inherently  eternal  Bight,  and  the  Supreme  Bight  in 

*  The  sensational  conclusions  of  the  "  materialistic"  school  of  the  18th 
century  are  reached  by  the  "  axiom  of  Contradiction  and  Identity,"  aa 
applied  in  this  simple  dilemma :  "  In  cognition,  Man  is  either  active  or 
passive  ;  he  is  not  active  (unless  he  is  grossly  deceiving1  himself),  therefore 
he  is  passive;  therefore  all  knowledge  is  derived  fib  extra"  Whnl 
this  external  objective  being  is  of  which  this  knowledge  is  the  cognition, 
remains  an  eternal  mystery — i.e.,  as  Hegel  says:  "The  results  of  thought 
are  posited  as  finite." — Til. 


462  PART    IV.      T1IE    GEEMAB    WORLD. 

comparison  with  other  specific  Eights ;  nay,  it  is  even  that 
by  which  Man  becomes  Man,  and  is  therefore  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  Spirit.  But  the  next  question  is  :  How 
does  Will  assume  a  definite  form  ?  For  in  willing  itself,  it 
is  nothing  but  an  identical  reference  to  itself;  but,  in  point 
of  fact,  it  wills  something  specific  :  there  are,  we  know, 
distinct  and  special  Duties  and  Rights.  A  particular  appli- 
cation, a  definite  form  of  Will,  is  desiderated ;  for  pure  Will 
is  its  ov\n  object,  its  own  application,  which,  as  far  as  this 
shewing  goes,  is  no  object,  no  application.  In  fact,  in  this 
form  it  is  nothing  more  than  formal  Will.  But  the  meta- 
physical process  by  which  this  abstract  Will  develops  itself, 
so  as  to  attain  a  definite  form  of  Freedom,  and  how  Rights 
and  Duties  are  evolved  therefrom,  this  is  not  the  place  to 
discuss.*  It  may  however  be  remarked  that  the  same  prin- 
ciple obtained  speculative  recognition  in  Germany,  in  the 
Kantian  Philosophy.  According  to  it  the  simple  unity  ol 
Self-consciousness,  the  Ego,  constitutes  the  absolutely  inde- 
pendent Freedom,  and  is  the  fountain  of  all  general  concep- 
tions— i.e.  all  conceptions  elaborated  by  Thought — Theoreti- 
cal Reason  ;  and  likewise  of  the  highest  of  all  practical  deter- 
minations [or  conceptions] — Practical  Reason,  as  free  and 
pure  Will ;  and  Rationality  of  Will  is  none  other  than  the 
maintaining  one's  self  in  pure  Freedom — willing  this  and 
this  alone — Right  purely  for  the  sake  of  Right,  Duty  purely 
for  the  sake  of  Duty.  Among  the  Germans  this  view 
assumed  no  other  form  than  that  of  tranquil  theory;  but 
the  French  wished  to  give  it  practical  effect.  Two  ques- 
tions, therefore,  suggest  themselves  :  Why  did  this  principle 

*  "  Freedom  of  the  Will,"  in  Hegel's  use  of  the  term,  has  an  intensive 
signification,  and  must  be  distinguished  from  *'  Liberty  of  Will"  in  its 
ordinary  acceptation.  The  latter  denotes  a  mere  liability  to  be  affected 
by  extrinsic  motives :  the  former  is  that  absolute  strength  of  Will  which 
enables  it  to  defy  all  seductions  that  challenge  its  persistency.  Its  sole 
object  is  self-assertion.  In  fact  it  is  Individuality  mainlining  itselt 
against  all  dividiiiij  or  distracting  forces.  And  to  maintain  individuality 
is  to  preserve  consistency — to  "  act  on  principle," — phrases  with  which 
Language,  the  faithful  conservator  of  metaphysical  genealogies,  connects 
virtuous  associations.  In  adopting  a  code  of  Duties,  and  in  acknowledging 
Hights,  the  Will  recognizes  its  own  Freedom  in  this  intensive  sense,  for 
in  tuch  adoption  it  declare*  its  own  ability  to  pursue  a  certain  course  of 
action  in  spite  of  all  inducements,  sensuous  or  emotional,  to  deviate  from  it. 
Thest  remarks  may  supply  some  ind:  cations  of  the  process  referred  to  in 
the  text.— TK. 


iECT.  III.    ECLAIRCISSEMENT  A3fD  THE  REVOLUTION.    403 

of  Freedom  remain  merely  formal  ?*  and  why  did  the  French 
alone,  and  not  the  Germans,  set  about  realizing  it  ? 

With  the  formal  principle  more  significant  categories  were 
indeed  connected :  one  of  the  chief  of  these  (for  instance) 
was  Society,  and  that  which  is  advantageous  for  Society : 
but  the  aim  of  Society  is  itself  political— that  of  the  State 
(vid.  " Droits  de  1'homme  et  du  citoyen,"  1791) — the  con- 
servation of  Natural  Eights  ;  but  Natural  Right  is  Freedom, 
and,  as  further  determined,  it  is  Equality  of  Eights  before 
the  Law.  A  direct  connection  is  manifest  here,  for  Equality, 
Parity,i&  the  result  of  the  comparison  of  many  ;f  the  "Many" 
in  question  being  human  beings,  whose  essential  character- 
istic is  the  same,  viz.  Freedom.  That  principle  remains 
formal,  because  it  originated  with  abstract  Thought — with 
the  Understanding,  which  is  primarily  the  self-consciousness 
of  Pure  Eeason,  and  as  direct  [unreflected,  undeveloped]  is 
abstract.  As  yet,  nothing  further  is  developed  from  it,  for 
it  still  maintains  an  adverse  position  to  Eeligion,  i.e.  to  the 
concrete  absolute  substance  of  the  Universe. 

As  respects  the  second  question, — why  the  French  imme- 
diately passed  over  from  the  theoretical  to  the  practical, 
while  the  Germans  contented  themselves  with  theoretical 
abstraction,  it  might  be  said  :  the  French  are  hotheaded  [ils 
ont  latete  pres  du  bonnet]  ;  but  this  is  a  superficial  solution  : 
the  fact  is  that  the  formal  principle  of  philosophy  in  Ger- 
many encounters  a  concrete  real  World  in  which  Spirit 
finds  inward  satisfaction  and  in  which  conscience  is  at  rest. 
For  on  the  one  hand  it  was  the  Protestant  World  itself  which 
advanced  so  far  in  Thought  as  to  realize  the  absolute  cul- 
mination of  Self- Consciousness  ;  on  the  other  hand,  Protest- 
antism enjoys,  with  respect  to  the  moral  and  legal  relations 
of  the  real  world,  a  tranquil  confidence  in  the  [Honourable] 

*  "  Formal  Freedom  "  is  mere  liberty  to  do  what  one  likes.  It  is  called 
''formal,  "  because,  as  already  indicated,  the  matter  of  volition — what  it  ia 
that  is  willed — is  left  entirely  undetermined.  In  the  next  paragraph  the 
writer  goes  on  to  shew  that  some  definite  object  was  associated  with  a  sen- 
/rnent  otherwise  unmeaning  or  bestial,  "  Vive  la  Liberte  !" — TR. 

f  The  radical  correspondence  of  **  Oleichheit"  and  "Veryleichung"  is 
attempted  to  be  rendered  in  English  by  the  terms  parity  and  comparison , 
»nd  perhaps  etymology  may  justify  the  expedient.  The  meaning  of  the 
derivative  "  comparatio"  seems  to  point  to  the  connection  of  its  root  "  paro'* 
with  "par." — TB. 


464  PAUT    IV.      THE    GEIiMAN   WOBLD. 

Disposition  of  men — a  sentiment,  which,  [in  the  Protestant 
World,]  constituting  one  and  the  same  thing  with  Religion, 
is  the  fountain  of  all  the  equitable  arrangements  that  prevail 
with  regard  to  private  right  and  the  constitution  of  the 
State.*  In  Germany  the  eclaircissemeut  was  conducted  in 
the  interest  of  theology  :  in  France  it  immediately  took  up 
a  position  of  hostility  to  the  Church.  In  Germany  the  en- 
tire compass  of  secular  relations  had  already  undergone  a 
change  for  the  better  ;  those  pernicious  ecclesiastical  insti- 
tutes of  celibacy,  voluntary  pauperism,  and  laziness,  had  been 
already  done  away  with  ;  there  was  no  dead  weight  of  enor- 
mous wealth  attached  to  the  Church,  and  no  constraint  puc 
upon  Morality, — a  constraint  which  is  the  source  and  occa- 
sion of  vices  ;  there  was  not  that  unspeakably  hurtful  form 
of  iniquity  which  arises  from  the  interference  of  spiritual 
power  with  secular  law,  nor  that  other  of  the  Divine  Bight 
of  Kings,  i.e.  the  doctrine  that  the  arbitrary  will  of  princes, 
in  virtue  of  their  being  "  the  Lord's  Anointed,"  is  divine  and 
holy :  on  the  contrary  their  will  is  regarded  as  deserving  of 
respect  only  so  far  as  in  association  with  reason,  it  wisely  con- 
templates Right,  Justice,  and  the  weal  of  the  community. 
The  principle  of  Thought,  therefore,  had  been  so  far  concili- 
ated already;  moreover  the  Protestant  World  had  a  convic- 
tion that  in  the  Harmonization  which  had  previously  been 
evolved  [in  the  sphere  of  Religion]  the  principle  which  would 
result  in  a  further  development  of  equity  in  the  political 
sphere  was  already  present. 

Consciousness  that  has  received  an  abstract  culture,  and 
whose  sphere  is  the  Understanding  [Verstand]  can  be  in- 
different to  Keligion,  but  Religion  is  the  general  form  in 
which  Truth  exists  for  non-abstract  consciousness.  And  the 
Protestant  Religion  does  not  admit  of  two  kinds  of  con- 
sciences, while  in  the  Catholic  world  the  Holy  stands  on  the 
one  side  and  on  the  other  side  abstraction  opposed  to  Religion, 
that  is  to  its  superstition  and  its  truth.  That  formal,  indi- 
vidual Will  is  in  virtue  of  the  abstract  position  just  mentioned 
made  the  basis  of  political  theories  ;  Right  in  Society  is  that 
which  the  Law  wills,  and  the  Will  in  question  appears  as 

*  This  moral  aspect  of  Protestantism  is  discussed  more  fully  in  p.  88 
of  the  Introduction. 


SECT.    III.      THE    ECLAIRCISSEMENT    AND    BEVOLUTION.    4C5 

an  isolated  individual  will ;  thus  the  State,  as  an  aggregate 
of  many  individuals,  is  not  an  independently  substantial  Unity, 
and  the  truth  and  essence  of  Right  in  and  for  itself — to 
which  the  will  of  its  individual  members  ought  to  be  con- 
formed in  order  to  be  true,  free  Will ;  but  the  volitional 
atoms  [the  individual  wills  of  the  members  of  the  State]  are 
made  the  starting  point,  and  each  will  is  represented  as  ab- 
solute. 

An  intellectual  principle  was  thus  discovered  to  serve  as  a 
basis  for  the  State — one  which  does  not,  like  previous  princi- 
ples, belong  to  the  sphere  of  opinion,  such  as  the  social  im- 
pulse, the  desire  of  security  for  property,  &c.  nor  owe  its  ori- 
gin to  the  religious  sentiment,  as  does  that  of  the  Divine  ap- 
pointment of  the  governing  power, — but  the  principle  of 
Certainty,  which  is  identity  with  my  self-consciousness,  stop- 
ping short  however  of  that  of  Truth,  which  needs  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  it.  This  is  a  vast  discovery  in  regard  to  the 
profoundest  depths  of  being  and  Freedom.  The  conscious- 
ness of  the  Spiritual  is  now  the  essential  basis  of  the  political 
fabric,  and  Philosophy  has  thereby  become  dominant.  It  has 
been  said,  that  the  French  Revolution  resulted  from  Philo- 
sophy, and  it  is  not  without  reason  that  Philosophy  has  been 
called  "  Weltweisheit"  [World  Wisdom  ;]  for  it  is  not  only 
Truth  in  and  for  itself,  as  the  pure  essence  of  things,  but 
also  Truth  in  its  living  form  as  exhibited  in  the  affairs  of 
the  world.  We  should  not,  therefore,  contradict  the  asser- 
tion that  the  Revolution  received  its  first  impulse  from  Phi- 
losophy. But  this  philosophy  is  in  the  first  instance  only 
abstract  Thought,  not  the  concrete  comprehension  of  abso- 
lute Truth— intellectual  positions  between  which  there  is  an 
immeasurable  chasm. 

The  principle  of  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  therefore,  as- 
serted itself  against  existing  Right.  Before  the  French 
Revolution,  it  must  be  allowed,  the  power  of  the  grandees 
had  been  diminished  by  Richelieu,  and  they  had  been  de- 
prived of  privileges ;  but,  like  the  clergy,  they  retained  all 
the  prerogatives  which  gave  them  an  advantage  over  the 
lower  class.  The  political  condition  of  France  at  that  time 
presents  nothing  but  a  confused  mass  of  privileges  altogether 
contravening  Thought  and  Reason, — an  utterly  irrational 
itate  of  things,  and  one  with  which  the  greatest  corruption 

2H 


4G6  PART   IV.      THE   GERMAN   WORLD. 

of  morals,  of  Spirit  was  associated — an  empire  characterized 
by  Destitution  of  Right,  and  which,  when  its  real  state  begins 
to  be  recognized,  becomes  shameless  destitution  of  Bight. 
The  fearfully  heavy  burdens  that  pressed  upon  the  people,  the 
embarrassment  of  the  government  to  procure  for  the  Court  the 
means  of  supporting  luxury  and  extravagance,  gave  the  first 
impulse  to  discontent.  The  new  Spirit  began  to  agitate  men's 
minds  :  oppression  drove  men  to  investigation.  It  was  per- 
ceived that  the  sums  extorted  from  the  people  were  not  ex- 
pended in  furthering  the  objects  of  the  State,  but  were 
lavished  in  the  most  unreasonable  fashion.  The  entire  po- 
litical system  appeared  one  mass  of  injustice.  The  change 
was  necessarily  violent,  because  the  work  of  transformation 
M  as  not  undertaken  by  the  government.  And  the  reason 
why  the  government  did  not  undertake  it  was  that  the  Court, 
the  Clergy,  the  Nobility,  the  Parliaments  themselves,  were 
unwilling  to  surrender  the  privileges  they  possessed,  either 
for  the  sake  of  expediency  or  that  of  abstract  Bight ;  more- 
over, because  the  government  as  the  coucrete  centre  of  the 
power  of  the  State,  could  not  adopt  as  its  principle  ab- 
stract individual  wills,  and  reconstruct  the  State  on  this  basis; 
lastly,  because  it  was  Catholic,  and  therefore  the  Idea  of 
Freedom— Beason  embodied  in  Laws — did  not  pass  for  the 
final  absolute  obligation,  since  the  Holy  and  the  religious 
conscience  are  separated  from  them.  The  conception,  the 
idea  of  Bight  asserted  its  authority  all  at  once,  and  the  old 
framework  of  injustice  could  offer  no  resistance  to  its  on- 
slaught. A  constitution,  therefore,  was  established  in  har- 
mony with  the  conception  of  Bight,  and  on  this  foundation 
all  future  legislation  was  to  be  based.  Never  since  the  sun  had 
stood  in  the  firmament  and  the  planets  revolved  around  him 
had  it  been  perceived  that  man's  existence  centres  in  his  head, 
i.e.  in  Thought,  inspired  by  which  he  builds  up  the  world  of 
reality.  Anaxagoras  had  been  the  first  to  say  that  VOVQ  governs 
the  World ;  but  not  until  now  had  man  advanced  to  the  re- 
cognition of  the  principle  that  Thought  ought  to  govern  spi- 
ritual reality.  This  was  accordingly  a  glorious  mental  dawn. 
All  thinking  beings  shared  in  the  jubilation  of  this  er  t?h. 
Emotions  of  a  lofty  character  stirred  men's  miuds  at  yhat 
time;  a  spiritual  enthusiasm  thrilled  through  the  world,  as  if 
the  reconciliation  between  the  Divine  and  the  Secular  was 
now  first  accomplished. 


SECT.  III.      THE  ECLAIRCISSEMEK1  AND  REVOLUTION.    467 

The  two  following  points  must  now  occupy  our  attention : 
1st.  The  course  which  the  Revolution  in  France  took;  2nd. 
How  that  Revolution  became  World-Historical. 

1.  Freedom  presents  two  aspects :  the  one  concerns  its 
substance  and  purport, —  its  objectivity — the  thing  itself — 
[that  which  is  performed  as  a  free  act]  ;  the  other  relates  to 
the  Form  of  Freedom,  involving  the  consciousness  of  his 
activity  on  the  part  of  the  individual ;  for  Freedom  demands 
that  the  individual  recognize  himself  in  such  acts,  that  they 
should  be  veritably  his,  it  being  his  interest  that  the  result 
in  question  should  be  attained.  The  three  elements  and 
powers  of  the  State  in  actual  working  must  be  contem- 
plated according  to  the  above  analysis,  their  examination 
in  detail  being  referred  to  the  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy 
of  Right. 

(1.)  Laws  of  Rationality— of  intrinsic  Right— Objective 
or  Real  Freedom  :  to  this  category  belongs  Freedom  of 
Property  and  Freedom  of  Person.  Those  relics  of  that 
condition  of  servitude  which  the  feudal  relation  had  intro- 
duced are  hereby  swept  away,  and  all  those  fiscal  ordinances 
which  were  the  bequest  of  the  feudal  law— its  tithes  and 
dues,  are  abrogated.  Real  [practical]  Liberty  requires  more- 
over freedom  in  regard  to  trades  and  professions — the  per- 
mission to  every  one  to  use  his  abilities  without  restriction — 
and  the  free  admission  to  all  offices  of  State.  This  is  a  sum- 
mary of  the  elements  of  real  Freedom,  and  which  are  not 
based  on  feeling, — for  feeling  allows  of  the  continuance  even 
of  serfdom  and  slavery, — but  on  the  thought  and  self-con- 
sciousness of  man  recognizing  the  spiritual  character  of  his 
existence. 

(2.)  But  the  agency  which  gives  the  laws  practical  effect 
is  the  Government  generally.  Government  is  primarily  the 
formal  execution  of  the  laws  and  the  maintenance  of  their 
authority :  in  respect  to  foreign  relations  it  prosecutes  the 
interest  of  the  State ;  that  is,  it  assists  the  independence  of 
the  nation  as  an  individuality  against  other  nations ;  lastly, 
it  has  to  provide  for  the  internal  weal  of  the  State  and  all 
its  classes — what  is  called  administration:  for  it  is  not  enough 
that  the  citizen  is  allowed  to  pursue  a  trade  or  calling,  it 
must  also  be  a  source  of  gain  to  him;  it  is  not  enough  that 
men  are  permitted  to  use  their  powers,  they  must  also  find 


468  PART    IT.      THE    GEEMAJT    WOULD. 

an  opportunity  of  applying  them  to  purpose.  Thus  the 
State  involves  a  body  of  abstract  principles  and  a  practical 
application  of  them.  This  application  must  be  the  work  of 
a  subjective  will,  a  will  which  resolves  and  decides.  Legis- 
lation itself, — the  invention  and  positive  enactment  of  these 
statutory  arrangements,  is  an  application  of  such  general 
principles.  The  next  step,  then,  consists  in  [specific]  deter- 
mination and  execution.  Here  then  the  question  presents 
itself:  what  is  the  decisive  will  to  be  ?  The  ultimate  decision 
is  the  prerogative  of  the  monarch :  but  if  the  State  is  based 
on  Liberty,  the  many  wills  of  individuals  also  desire  to  have 
a  share  in  political  decisions.  But  the  Many  are  All ; 
and  it  seems  but  a  poor  expedient,  rather  a  monstrous  in- 
consistency, to  allow  only  a  few  to  take  part  in  those  deci- 
sions, since  each  wishes  that  his  volition  should  have  a  share 
in  determining  what  is  to  be  law  for  him.  The  Few  assume 
to  be  the  deputies,  but  they  are  often  only  the  despoilers  of  the 
Many.  Nor  is  the  sway  of  the  Majority  over  the  Minority  a 
less  palpable  inconsistency. 

(3.)  This  collision  of  subjective  wills  leads  therefore  to 
the  consideration  of  a  third  point,  that  of  Disposition — an 
ex  animo  acquiescence  in  the  laws ;  not  the  mere  customary- 
observance  of  them,  but  the  cordial  recognition  of  laws  and  the 
Constitution  as  in  principle  fixed  and  immutable,  and  of  the 
supreme  obligation  of  individuals  to  subject  their  particular 
wills  to  them.  There  may  be  various  opinions  and  views 
respecting  laws,  constitution  and  government,  but  there 
•nust  be  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  citizens  to  regard 
all  these  opinions  as  subordinate  to  the  substantial  interest 
of  the  State,  and  to  insist  upon  then*  no  farther  than  that  in- . 
terest  will  allow;  moreover  nothing  must  be  considered  higher 
and  more  sacred  than  good  will  towards  the  State;  or,  if 
Religion  be  looked  upon  as  higher  and  more  sacred,  it  must 
involve  nothing  really  alien  or  opposed  to  the  Constitution. 
It  is,  indeed,  regarded  as  a  maxim  of  the  profoundest  wisdom 
entirely  to  separate  the  laws  and  constitution  of  the  State 
from  Religion,  since  bigotry  and  hypocrisy  are  to  be 
feared  as  the  results  of  a  State  Religion.  But  although  the 
aspects  of  Religion  and  the  State  are  different,  they  are 
radically  one ;  and  the  laws  find  their  highest  confirmation 
in  Religion. 


6E€T    III.      THE  ECLAIBCISSEMEXT  AND  BE  VOLUTION.    4G9 

Here  it  must  be  frankly  stated,  that  with  the  Catholic 
Religon  no  rational  constitution  is  possible ;  for  Govern- 
ment and  People  must  reciprocate  that  final  guarantee  of 
Disposition,  and  can  have  it  only  in  a  Religion  that  is  not 
opposed  to  a  rational  political  constitution. 

Plato  in  his  Republic  makes  everything  depend  upon  the 
Government,  and  makes  Disposition  the  principle  of  the 
State ;  on  which  account  he  lays  the  chief  stress  on  Education. 
The  modern  theory  is  diametrically  opposed  to  this,  refer- 
ring everything  to  the  individual  will.  But  here  we  have 
no  guarantee  that  the  will  in  question  has  that  right  dispo- 
sition which  is  essential  to  the  stability  of  the  State. 

In  view  then  of  these  leading  considerations  we  have  to 
trace  the  course  of  the  French  Revolution  and  the  remodel- 
ling of  the  State  in  accordance  with  the  Idea  of  Right.  In 
the  first  instance  purely  abstract  philosophical  principles 
were  set  up :  Disposition  and  Religion  were  not  taken  into 
account.  The  first  Constitutional  form  of  Government  in 
France  was  one  which  recognized  Royalty  ;  the  monarch 
was  to  stand  at  the  head  of  the  State,  and  on  him  in  conjunc- 
tion with  his  Mimisters  was  to  devolve  the  executive  power  ; 
the  legislative  body  on  the  other  hand  were  to  make  the 
laws.  But  this  constitution  involved  from  the  very  first 
an  internal  contradiction  ;  for  the  legislature  absorbed  the 
whole  power  of  the  administration :  the  budget,  affairs  of 
war  and  peace,  and  the  levying  of  the  armed  force  were  in 
the  hands  of  the  Legislative  Chamber.  Everything  was 
brought  under  the  head  of  Law.  The  budget  however  is 
in  its  nature  something  diverse  from  law,  for  it  is  annually 
renewed,  and  the  power  to  which  it  properly  belongs  is  that 
of  the  Government.  With  this  moreover  is  connected  the 
indirect  nomination  of  the  ministry  and  officers  of  state,  &c. 
The  government  was  thus  transferred  to  the  Legislative 
Chamber,  as  in  England  to  the  Parliament.  This  constitu- 
tion was  also  vitiated  by  the  existence  of  absolute  mistrust ; 
the  dynasty  lay  under  suspicion,  because  it  had  lost  the 
power  it  formerly  enjoyed,  and  the  priests  refused  the  oath. 
Neither  government  nor  constitution  could  be  maintained 
on  this  footing,  and  the  ruin  of  both  was  the  result.  A  go- 
vernment of  some  kind  however  is  always  in  existence.  The 
question  presents  itself  then,  Whence  did  it  emanate  ?  The- 


470  PABT   IT.       THE    GERMAN   WOELD. 

oretically,  it  proceeded  from  the  people ;  really  and  truly 
from  the  National  Convention  and  its  Committees.  The 
forces  now  dominant  are  the  abstract  principles — Freedom, 
and,  as  it  exists  within  the  limits  of  the  Subjective  Will,  — 
Virtue.  This  Virtue  has  now  to  conduct  the  government 
in  opposition  to  the  Many,  whom  their  corruption  and 
attachment  to  old  interests,  or  a  liberty  that  has  degenerated 
into  license,  and  the  violence  of  their  passions,  render  unfaith- 
ful to  virtue.  Virtue  is  here  a  simple  abstract  principle  and 
distinguishes  the  citizens  into  two  classes  only — those  who 
are  favourably  disposed  and  those  who  are  not.  But  dis- 
position can  only  be  recognized  arid  judged  of  by  disposition. 
Suspicion  therefore  is  in  the  ascendant ;  but  virtue,  as  soon 
as  it  becomes  liable  to  suspicion,  is  already  condemned. 
Suspicion  attained  a  terrible  power  and  brought  to  the 
scaffold  the  Monarch,  whose  subjective  will  was  in  fact  the 
religious  conscience  of  a  Catholic.  Robespierre  set  up  the 
principle  of  Virtue  as  supreme,  and  it  may  be  said  that  with 
this  man  Virtue  was  an  earnest  matter.  Virtue  and  Terror 
are  the  order  of  the  day  ;  for  Subjective  Virtue,  whose  sway 
is  based  on  disposition  only,  brings  with  it  the  most  fearful 
tyranny.  It  exercises  its  power  without  legal  formalities, 
and  the  punishment  it  inflicts  is  equally  simple — Death, 
This  tyranny  could  not  last ;  for  all  inclinations,  all  interests, 
reason  itself  revolted  against  this  terribly  consistent  Liberty, 
which  in  its  concentrated  intensity  exhibited  so  fanatical  a 
shape.  An  organized  government  is  introduced,  analogous 
to  the  one  that  had  been  displaced ;  only  that  its  chief 
and  monarch  is  now  a  mutable  Directory  of  Five,  who  may 
form  a  moral,  but  have  not  an  individual  unity ;  under  them 
also  suspicion  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  the  government 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  legislative  assemblies  ;  this  constitu* 
tion  therefore  experienced  the  same  fate  as  its  predecessor, 
for  it  had  proved  to  itself  the  absolute  necessity  of  a  govern* 
mental  power.  Napoleon  restored  it  as  a  military  power, 
and  followed  up  this  step  by  establishing  himself  as  an 
individual  will  at  the  head  of  the  State :  he  knew  how  to 
rule,  and  soon  settled  the  internal  affairs  of  France.  The 
avocats,  ideologues  and  abstract-principle  men  who  ven- 
tured to  show  themselves  he  sent  "  to  the  right  about,"  and 
the  sway  of  mistrust  was  exchanged  for  that  of  respect 


SECT.  111.      THE  ECLAIRCISSEMENT  AND  REVOLUTION.    471 

and  fear.  He  then,  with  the  vast  might  of  his  character, 
turned  his  attention  to  foreign  relations,  subjected  all 
Europe,  and  diffused  his  liberal  institutions  in  every  quarter. 
Greater  victories  were  never  gained,  expeditions  displaying 
greater  genius  were  never  conducted:  but  never  was  the 
powerlessness  of  Victory  exhibited  in  a  clearer  light  than 
then.  The  disposition  of  the  peoples,  i.e.  their  religious  dis- 
position and  that  of  their  nationality,  ultimately  precipitated 
this  colossus ;  and  in  France  constitutional  monarchy,  with 
the  "  Charte  "  as  its  basis,  was  restored.  But  here  again  the 
antithesis  of  Disposition  [good  feeling]  and  Mistrust  made 
its  appearance.  The  French  stood  in  a  mendacious  position 
to  each  other,  when  they  issued  addresses  full  of  devotion 
and  love  to  the  monarchy,  and  loading  it  with  benediction. 
A  fifteen  years'  farce  was  played.  For  although  the  Charte 
was  the  standard  under  which  ail  were  enrolled,  and  though 
both  parties  had  sworn  to  it,  yet  on  the  one  side  the  ruling 
disposition  was  a  Catholic  one,  which  regarded  it  as  a  matter 
of  conscience  to  destroy  the  existing  institutions.  Another 
breach,  therefore,  took  place,  and  the  Government  was  over- 
turned. At  length,  after  forty  years  of  war  and  confusion 
indescribable,  a  weary  heart  might  fain  congratulate  itself 
on  seeing  a  termination  and  tranquillization  of  all  these  dis- 
turbances. But  although  one  main  point  is  set  at  rest,  there 
remains  on  the  one  hand  that  rupture  which  the  Catholic 
principle  inevitably  occasions,  on  the  other  hand  that  which 
has  to  do  with  men's  subjective  will.  In  regard  to  the  latter, 
the  main  feature  of  incompatibility  still  presents  itself,  in  the 
requirement  that  the  ideal  general  will  should  also  be  the 
empirically  general, — i.e.  that  the  units  of  the  State,  in  their 
individual  capacity,  should  rule,  or  at  any  rate  take  part  in 
the  government.  Not  satisfied  with  the  establishment  of  ra- 
tional rights,  with  freedom  of  person  and  property,  with  the 
existence  of  a  political  organization  in  which  are  to  be  found 
various  circles  of  civil  life  each  having  its  own  functions  to 
perform,  and  with  that  influence  over  the  people  which  if 
exercised  by  the  intelligent  members  of  the  community,  and 
the  confidence  that  is  felt  in  them,  '*  Liberalism"  sets  up  iu 
opposition  to  all  this  the  atomistic  principle,  that  which  insists 
upon  the  sway  of  individual  wills  ;  maintaining  that  all  go- 
vernment should  emanate  from  their  express  power,  and 


472  PART    IV.       THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

their  express  sanction.  Asserting  this  formal  side  of  Free- 
dom— this  abstraction — the  party  in  question  allows  no  poli- 
tical organization  to  be  firmly  established.  The  particular 
arrangements  of  the  government  are  forthwith  opposed  by  the 
advocates  of  Liberty  as  the  mandates  of  a  particular  will, 
and  branded  as  displays  of  arbitrary  power.  The  will  of  the 
Many  expels  the  Ministry  from  power,  and  those  who  had 
formed  the  Opposition  fill  the  vacant  places  ;  but  the  latter 
having  now  become  the  Government,  meet  with  hostility 
from  the  Many,  and  share  the  same  fate.  Thus  agitation  and 
unrest  is  perpetuated.  This  collision,  this  nodus,  this  pro- 
blem is  that  with  which  history  is  now  occupied,  and  whose 
solution  it  has  to  work  out  in  the  future. 

2.  We  have  now  to  consider  the  French  Revolution 
in  its  organic  connection  with  the  History  of  the  World; 
for  in  its  substantial  import  that  event  is  World- Histori- 
cal, and  that  contest  of  Formalism  which  we  discussed  in  the 
last  paragraph  must  be  properly  distinguished  from  its 
wider  bearings.  As  regards  outward  diffusion  its  principle 
gained  access  to  almost  all  modern  states,  either  through 
conquest  or  by  express  introduction  into  their  political  life. 
Particularly  all  the  Romanic  nations,  and  the  Homan 
Catholic  World  in  special — France,  Italy,  Spain  —  were 
subjected  to  the  dominion  of  Liberalism.  But  it  became 
bankrupt  everywhere ;  first,  the  grand  firm  in  France,  then 
its  branches  in  Spain  and  Italy ;  twice,  in  fact,  in  the 
states  into  which  it  had  been  introduced.  This  was  the 
case  in  Spain,  where  it  was  first  brought  in  by  the  Napo- 
leonic Constitution,  then  by  that  which  the  Cortes  adopted, 
— in  Piedmont,  first  when  it  was  incorporated  with  the 
French  Empire,  and  a  second  time  as  the  result  of  internal 
insurrection ;  so  in  Eome  and  in  Naples  it  was  twice  set  up. 
Thus  Liberalism  as  an  abstraction,  emanating  from  France, 
traversed  the  Roman  World;  but  Religious  slavery  held  that 
world  in  the  fetters  of  political  servitude.  For  it  is  a  false 
principle  that  the  fetters  which  bind  Right  and  Freedom 
can  be  broken  without  the  emancipation  of  conscience — that 
there  can  be  a  Revolution  without  a  Reformation. — These 
countries,  therefore,  sank  back  into  their  old  condition, — in 
Italy  with  some  modifications  of  the  cutward  political  con- 
dition. Venice  and  Genoa,  those  ancient  aristocracies, 


SECT.  III.       THE  ICLAIRCISSEMENT  AND  REVOLUTION.     473 

which  could  at  least  boast  of  legitimacy,  vanished  as  rotten 
despotisms.  Material  superiority  in  power  can  achieve  no 
enduring  results :  Napoleon  could  not  coerce  Spain  into  free- 
dom any  more  than  Philip  II.  could  force  Holland  into 
slavery. 

Contrasted  with  these  Romanic  nations  we  observe  the 
other  powers  of  Europe,  and  especially  the  Protestant  na- 
tions. Austria  and  England  were  not  drawn  within  the 
vortex  of  internal  agitation,  and  exhibited  great,  immense 
proofs  of  their  internal  solidity.  Austria  is  not  a  Kingdom, 
but  an  Empire,  i.e.  an  aggregate  of  many  political  organiza- 
tions. The  inhabitants  of  its  chief  provinces  are  not  Ger- 
man in  origin  and  character,  and  have  remained  unaffected 
by  *«  ideas."  Elevated  neither  by  education  nor  religion,  the 
lower  classes  in  some  districts  have  remained  in  a  condition 
of  serfdom,  and  the  nobility  have  been  kept  down,  as  in  Bo- 
hemia ;  in  other  quarters,  while  the  former  have  continued 
the  same,  the  barons  have  maintained  their  despotism,  as 
in  Hungary.  Austria  has  surrendered  that  more  intimate 
connection  with  Germany  which  was  derived  from  the  im- 
perial dignity,  and  renounced  its  numerous  possessions  and 
rights  in  Germany  and  the  Netherlands.  It  now  takes  its 
place  in  Europe  as  a  distinct  power,  involved  with  no  other. 
England,  with  great  exertions,  maintained  itself  on  its  old 
foundations  ;  the  English  Constitution  kept  its  ground  amid 
the  general  convulsion,  though  it  seamed  so  much  the  more 
liable  to  be  affected  by  it,  38  a  public  Parliament,  that  habit 
of  assembling  in  public  meeting  which  was  common  to  all 
orders  of  the  state,  and  a  free  press,  offered  singular  facili- 
ties for  introducing  the  French  principles  of  Liberty  and 
Equality  among  all  classes  of  the  people.  "Was  the  English 
nation  too  backward  in  point  of  culture  to  apprehend  these 
general  principles  ?  Yet  in  no  country  has  the  question  of 
Liberty  been  more  frequently  a  subject  of  reflection  and 
public  discussion.  Or  was  the  English  constitution  so 
entirely  a  Eree  Constitution, — had  those  principles  been 
already  so  completely  realized  in  it,  that  they  could  no 
longer  excite  opposition  or  even  interest?  The  English 
nation  may  be  said  to  have  approved  of  the  emancipation  of 
I  ranee ;  but  it  was  proudly  reliant  on  its  own  constitution 
raid  freedom,  and  instead  of  imitating  the  example  of  the 


4;4l  PAET   IT.      THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

foreigner,  it  displayed  its  ancient  hostility  to  its  rival,  and 
was  soon  involved  in  a  popular  war  with  France. 

The  Constitution  of  England  is  a  complex  of  mere  parti- 
cular Rights  and  particular  privileges :  the  Government  is 
essentially  administrative, — that  is,  conservative  of  the  in- 
terests of  all  particular  orders  and  classes ;  and  each  par- 
ticular Church,  parochial  district,  county,  society,  takes  care 
of  itself,  so  that  the  Government,  strictly  speaking,  has 
nowhere  less  to  do  than  in  England.  This  is  the  leading 
feature  of  what  Englishmen  call  their  Liberty,  and  is  the 
very  antithesis  of  such  a  centralized  administration  as  exists 
in  France,  where  down  to  the  least  village  the  Maire .  is 
named  by  the  Ministry  or  their  agents.  Nowhere  can 
people  less  tolerate  free  action  on  the  part  of  others  than  in 
France  :  there  the  Ministry  combines  in  itself  all  adminis- 
trative power,  to  which,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  lays  claim.  In  England,  on  the  contrary,  every 
parish,  every  subordinate  division  and  association  has  a  part 
of  its  own  to  perform.  Thus  the  common  interest  is  con- 
crete, and  particular  interests  are  taken  cognizance  of  and 
determined  in  view  of  that  common  interest.  These  ar- 
rangements, based  on  particular  interests,  render  a  general 
system  impossible.  Consequently,  abstract  and  generaji 
principles  have  no  attraction  for  Englishmen — are  addressed 
in  their  case  to  inattentive  ears. — The  particular  interests 
above  referred  to  have  positive  rights  attached  to  thorn, 
which  date  from  the  antique  times  of  Feudal  Law,  and  have 
been  preserved  in  England  more  than  in  any  other  country. 
By  an  inconsistency  of  the  most  startling  kind,  we  find  them 
contravening  equity  most  grossly  ;  and  of  institutions  cha- 
racterised by  real  freedom  there  are  nowhere  fewer  than  in 
England.  In  point  of  private  right  and  freedom  of  posses- 
sion they  present  an  incredible  deficiency :  sufficient  proof  of 
which  is  afforded  in  the  rights  of  primogeniture,  involving 
the  necessity  of  purchasing  or  otherwise  providing  military 
or  ecclesiastical  appointments  for  the  younger  sons  of  the 
aristocracy. 

The  Parliament  govern*,  although  Englishmen  are  un- 
willing to  allow  that  such  is  the  case.  It  is  worthy  of  re- 
mark, that  what  lias  been  always  regarded  as  the  period  of 
the  corruption  of  a  republican  people,  ^presents  itself  here ; 


SECT.  in.      THE  ECLAIECISSEMENT  AND  REVOLUTION.     4/5 

viz.  election  to  seats  in  parliament  by  means  of  bribery. 
But  this  also  they  call  freedom — the  power  to  sell  one's 
vote,  and  to  purchase  a  seat  in  parliament. 

But  this  utterly  inconsistent  and  corrupt  state  of  things 
has  nevertheless  one  advantage,  that  it  provides  for  the 
possibility  of  a  government — that  it  introduces  a  majority  of 
men  into  parliament  who  are  statesmen,  who  from  their  very 
youth  have  devoted  themselves  to  political  business  and 
have  worked  and  lived  in  it.  And  the  nation  has  the  cor- 
rect conviction  and  perception  that  there  must  be  a  govern- 
ment, and  is  therefore  willing  to  give  its  confidence  to  a  body 
of  men  who  have  had  experience  in  governing ;  for  a  general 
sense  of  particularity  involves  also  a  recognition  of  that 
form  of  particularity  which  is  a  distinguishing  feature  of  one. 
class  of  the  community — that  knowledge,  experience,  and 
facility  acquired  by  practice,  which  the  aristocracy  who 
devote  themselves  to  such  interests  exclusively  possess. 
This  is  quite  opposed  to  the  appreciation  of  principles  and 
abstract  views  which  every  one  can  understand  at  once,  and 
which  are  besides  to  be  found  in  all  Constitutions  and 
Charters.  It  is  a  question  whether  the  Reform  in  Parliament 
now  on  the  tapis,  consistently  carried  out,  will  leave  the. 
possibility  of  a  Government. 

The  material  existence  of  England  is  based  on  commerce 
and  industry,  and  the  English  have  undertaken  the  weighty 
responsibility  of  being  the  missionaries  of  civilization  to  the 
world ;  for  their  commercial  spirit  urges  them  to  traverse 
every  sea  and  land,  to  form  connections  with  barbarous  peo- 
ples, to  create  wants  and  stimulate  industry,  and  first  and 
foremost  to  establish  among  them  the  conditions  necessary 
to  commerce,  viz.  the  relinquishment  of  a  life  of  lawless 
violence,  respect  for  property,  and  civility  to  strangers.  - 

Germany  was  traversed  by  the  victorious  French  hosts, 
but  German  nationality  delivered  it  from  this  yoke.  One  of 
the  leading  features  in  the  political  condition  of  Germany  is 
that  code  of  Eights  which  was  certainly  occasioned  by  French 
oppression,  since  this  was  the  especial  means  of  bringing 
to  light  the  deficiencies  of  the  old  system.  The  fiction  of  an 
Empire  has  utterly  vanished.  It  is  broken  up  into  sovereign 
states.  Feudal  obligations  are  abolished,  for  freedom  of 
property  and  of  person  have  oeen  recognized  as  fundamental 


476  PART    IV.      THE    GERMAN   WORLD. 

principles.  Offices  of  State  are  open  to  every  citizen,  talent 
and  adaptation  being  of  course  the  necessary  conditions.  The 
government  rests  with  the  official  world,  and  the  personal 
decision  of  the  monarch  constitutes  its  apex ;  for  a  final 
decision  is,  as  was  remarked  above,  absolutely  necessary. 
Yet  with  firmly  established  laws,  and  a  settled  organization 
of  the  State,  what  is  left  to  the  sole  arbitrement  of  the 
monarch  is,  in  point  of  substance,  no  great  matter.  It  ia 
certainly  a  very  fortunate  circumstance  for  a  nation,  when  a 
sovereign  of  noble  character  falls  to  its  lot ;  yet  in  a  great 
state  even  this  is  of  small  moment,  since  its  strength  lies  in 
the  Reason  incorporated  in  it.  Minor  states  have  their 
existence  and  tranquillity  secured  to  them  more  or  less  by 
their  neighbours  :  they  are  therefore,  properly  speaking,  not 
independent,  and  have  not  the  fiery  trial  of  war  to  endure. 
As  has  been  remarked,  a  share  in  the  government  may  be 
obtained  by  every  one  who  has  a  competent  knowledge,  ex- 
perience, and  a  morally  regulated  will.  Those  who  know  ought 
to  govern — oi  apto-rot,  not  ignorance  and  the  presumptuous 
conceit  of  "  knowing  better."  Lastly,  as  to  Disposition,  we 
have  already  remarked  that  in  the  Protestant  Church  the 
reconciliation  of  Religion  with  Legal  Right  has  taken  place. 
In  the  Protestant  world  there  is  no  sacred,  no  religious 
conscience  in  a  state  of  separation  from,  or  perhaps  even 
hostility  to  Secular  Right. 

This  'is  the  point  which  consciousness  has  attained, and  these 
are  the  principal  phases  of  that  form  in  which  the  principle 
of  Freedom  has  realized  itself; — for  the  History  of  the 
"World  is  nothing  but  the  development  of  the  Idea  of  Free- 
dom. But  Objective  Freedom— the  laws  of  real  Freedom — 
demand  the  subjugation  of  the  mere  contingent  Will, — for 
this  is  in  its  nature  formal.  If  the  Objective  is  in  itself 
Rational,  human  insight  and  conviction  must  correspond  with 
the  Reason  which  it  embodies,  and  then  we  have  the  other 
essential  element— Subjective  Freedom — also  realized.*  We 
have  confined  ourselves  to  the  consideration  of  that  progress 
of  the  IDEA  [which  has  led  to  this  consummation],  and  have 
been  obliged  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  giving  a  detailed 

*  That  is,  the  will  of  the  individual  goes  along-  with  the  requirements  of 
reasonable  Laws. — TR. 


SECT.  III.       THE  ECLAIKCI3SEHENT  AND  REVOLUTION.     477 

picture  of  the  prosperity,  the  periods  of  glory  that  have  dis- 
tinguished the  career  of  peoples,  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of 
the  character  of  individuals,  and  the  interest  attaching  to  their 
fate  in  weal  or  woe.  Philosophy  concerns  itself  only  with 
the  glory  of  the  Idea  mirroring  itself  in  the  History  of  the 
World.  Philosophy  escapes  from  the  weary  strife  of  passions 
that  agitate  the  surface  of  society  into  the  calm  region  of 
contemplation  ;  that  which  interests  it  is  the  recognition  of 
the  process  of  development  which  the  Idea  has  passed 
through  in  realizing  itself — t.  e.  the  Idea  of  Freedom,  whose 
reality  is  the  consciousness  of  Freedom  and  nothing  snort 
of  it. 

That  the  History  of  the  World,  with  all  the  changing 
scenes  which  its  annals  present,  is  this  process  of  develop- 
ment and  the  realization  of  Spirit, — this  is  the  true  Theodiccea, 
the  justification  of  God  in  History.  Only  this  insight  can 
reconcile  Spirit  with  the  History  of  the  World — viz.,  thai 
wnat  has  happened,  and  is  happening  every  day,  is  not 
only  not  "  without  God,"  but  is  essentially  His  Work. 


THE  END. 


LONDON  :    PRINTED  BY  WILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  LIMITED, 
DUKE  STREET,  STAMFORD  STREET,  S.E.,  AND  GREAT  WINDMILL  STREET, 


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--  Five  Lectures  on  Shake- 
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-  Offices  ;    or,    Moral    Dudes. 
Cato   Major,   an   Essay   on   Old 
Age  ;  Lselius,  an  Essay  on  Friend- 
ship ;  Scipio's  Dream  ;  Paradoxes  ; 
Letter  to  Quintus  on  Magistrates. 
Translated   by  C.   R.  Edmonds. 


CLARK'S  (Hugh)  Introduction 
to  Heraldry.  i8th  Edition,  Re- 
vised and  Enlarged  by  J.  R. 
Plancbe*,  Rouge  Croix.  With 
nearly  IOQO  Illustrations.  5*.  Or 
with  the  Illustrations  Coloured, 


OLA8SIG  TALES,  containing 
Rasselas,  Vicar  of  Wakefieid, 
Gulliver's  Travels,  and  The  Senti- 
mental Journey.  3^.  6d. 

COLERIDGE'S  (S.  T.)  Friend. 
A  Series  of  Essays  on  Morals, 
Politics,  and  Religion.  31.  6d, 

-  Aids  to  Reflection,  and  the 
CONFESSIONS  OF  AN  INQUIRING 
SPIRIT,  to  which  are  added  the 
ESSAYS  ON  FAITH  and  the  BOOK 
OF  COMMON  PRAYER.     35.  6d. 

-  Lectures     and    Notes    on 
Shakespeare  and  other  English 
Poets.       Edited     by    T.    Ashe. 
31.  &/. 


COLERIDG-E'S  BiographlaLlte- 
raria  ;  together  with  Two  Lay 
Sermons.  $s.  6d. 

Biographia      Epistolarls. 

Edited  by  Arthur  Turnbull.  2  vols. 
3-r.  6d.  each. 

Table-Talk  and    Omniana. 

Edited  by  T.  Ashe,  B.A.     3*.  6d. 

Miscellanies,  ^Esthetic  and 

Literary;    to  which    is    added, 
THE  THEORY  OF  LIFE.     Col- 
lected and  arranged  by  T.  Ashe, 
B.A.    3S.6J. 

COMTE'S  Positive  Philosophy. 
Translated  and  condensed  by 
Harriet  Martineau.  With  Intro- 
duction by  Frederic  Harrison. 
3  vols.  5^.  each. 

Philosophy  of  the  Sciences, 

being    an     Exposition      of    the 
Principles     of     the      Cours     de 
Philosophic  Positive.     By  G.  H. 
Lewes.     55. 

CONDE'S  History  of  the  Do- 
minion  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain. 
Translated  by  Mrs.  Foster.  3 
vols.  3*.  6d.  each. 

COOPER'S  Biographical  Die 
tionary.  Containing  Concise 
Notices  (upwards  of  15,000)  of 
Eminent  Persons  of  all  Ages  and 
Countries.  By  Thompson  Cooper, 
F.S.A.  With  a  Supplement, 
bringing  the  work  down  to  1883. 
2  vols.  5-r.  each. 

CORNELIUS  NEPOS.— See 
JUSTIN. 

OOXE'8  Memoirs  of  the  Duke  of 
Marlhorough.  With  his  original 
Correspondence.  By  W.  Coxe, 
M.A.,  F.R.S.  Revised  edition 
by  John  Wade.  3  vols.  3,1.  6d. 
each. 

OR  AIK'S  (G.  L.)  Pursuit  of  Know- 
ledge  under  Difficulties.  Illus- 
trated by  Anecdotes  and  Memoirs. 


Contained  in  Bohris  Libraries. 


Revised  edition,  with  numerous 
Woodcut  Portraits  and  Plates.  5^. 

CUNNINGHAM'S  Lives  of  the 
Most  Eminent  British  Painters. 
A  New  Edition,  with  Notes  and 
Sixteen  fresh  Lives.  By  Mrs. 
Heaton.  3  vols.  $s.  6d.  each. 

DANTE.  Divine  Comedy.  Trans- 
lated by  the  Rev.  H.  F.  Gary, 
M.A.  New  Edition,  by  M.  L. 
Egerton-Castle.  3*.  6d. 

Translated  into  English  Verse 

by  I.  C.  Wright,  M.A.  3rd  Edi- 
tion, revised.  With  Portrait,  and 
34  Illustrations  on  Steel,  after 
Flaxman. 

DANTE.  The  Inferno.  A  Literal 
Prose  Translation,  with  the  Text 
of  the  Original  printed  on  the  same 
page.  By  John  A.  Carlyle,  M.D. 
2nd  Edition.  5*. 

DE  COMMINES  (Philip),  Me- 
moirs of.  Containing  the  Histories 
of  Louis  XL  and  Charles  VIII., 
Kings  of  France,  and  Charles 
the  Bold,  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
Together  with  the  Scandalous 
Chronicle,  or  Secret  History  of 
Louis  XL,  by  Jean  de  Troyes. 
Translated  by  Andrew  R.  Scoble. 
With  Portraits.  2  vols,  $s.  6d. 
each. 

DEFOE'S  Novels  and  Mtscel- 
laneous  Works.  With  Prefaces 
and  Notes,  including  those  attri- 
buted to  Sir  W.  Scott.  7  vols. 
3-r.  6d.  each. 

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III. — Moll   Flanders,    and    the 
History  of  the  Devil. 

IV. — Roxana,  and  Life  of  Mrs, 
Christian  Davies. 


DEFOE'S    NOVELS    AND    MISCEL- 
LANEOUS WORKS— contimied. 
V.— History  of  the  Great  Plague 
of  London,  1665  ;  The 
Storm  (1703) ;  and  the 
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VI. -Duncan  Campbell,  New 
Voyage  round  the 
World,  and  Political 
Tracts. 

VII, — Robinson  Crusoe.  35-.  6d. 
Also  with  86  Illustra- 
tions. $s. 

A  Selection  of  the  Finest  Pas- 
sages from  his  Writings.  Edited, 
with  Biographical  and  Critical  In- 
troduction, by  John  Masefield. 
y.  6d. 

DEMMIN'S  History  of  Arms 
and  Armour,  from  the  Earliest 
Period.  By  Auguste  Demmin 
Translated  by  C.  C.  Black,  M.A. 
With  nearly  2000  Illustrations. 
7s.  6d. 

DEMOSTHENES'  Orations. 
Translated  by  C.  Rann  Kennedy. 
5  vols.  Vol.  L,  3*.  6d.-t  Vols. 
II.-V.,  5*.  each.  ' 

DE  QUINCE Y  (T.)  A  Selection 
of  the  Finest  Passages  from  his 
Writings.  Edited,  with  Bio- 
graphical and  Critical  Introduc- 
tion, by  Sidney  Low.  3^.  6d. 

DE  STAEL'S  Corinne  or  Italy. 
By  Madame  de  Stae'l.  Trans- 
lated by  Emily  Baldwin  and 
Paulina  Driver.  3^.  6d. 

DICTIONARY  of  Latin  and 
Greek  Quotations ;  including 
Proverbs,  Maxims,  Mottoes,  Law 
Terms  and  Phrases,  With  all  the 
Quantities  marked,  and  English 
Translations.  With  Index  Ver- 
borum  (622  pages).  5$. 

DICTIONARY  of  Obsolete  and 
Provincial  English.  Compiled 
by  Thomas  Wright,  M.A.,  F.S-A., 
&c.  2  vols.  5*.  each, 


8 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


DIDRON'S  Christian  Icono- 
graphy: a  History  of  Christian 
Art  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Trans- 
lated by  E.  J  Millington  and 
completed  by  Margaret  Stokes 
With  240  Illustrations.  2  vols. 
5-r.  each. 

DIOQENES  LAERTIUS.  Lives 
and  Opinions  of  the  Ancient 
Philosophers.  Translated  by 
Prof.  C.  D.  Yonge,  M.A.  5*. 

DOBREE'S  Adversaria.  Edited 
by  the  late  Prof.  Wagner.  2  vols. 
5-r.  each. 

DONALDSON'S  The  Theatre  of 
the  Greeks.  A  Treatise  on  the 
History  and  Exhibition  of  the 
Greek  Drama.  With  numerous 
II lustrations  and  3  Plans.  By  John 
William  Donaldson,  D.D.  8th 
Edition.  $s. 

DRAPER'S  History  of  the 
Intellectual  Development  of 
Europe.  By  John  William  Draper, 
M.D.,  LL.D.  2  vols.  5*.  each. 

DUNLOP'S  History  of  Fiction. 
A  new  Edition.  Revised  by 
Henry  Wilson.  2  vols.  5*.  each. 

DYER'S  History  of  Modern  Eu- 
rope, from  the  Fall  of  Constan- 
tinople. 3rd  edition,  revised  and 
continued  to  the  end  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century.  By  Arthur  Has- 
sall,  M.A.  6  vols.  3*.  6d  each, 

DYER'S  (Dr  T.  H.)  Pompeii  :  its 
Buildings  and  Antiquities.  By 
T.  H.  Dyer,  LL.D.  With  nearly 
300  Wood  Engravings,  a  large 
Map,  and  a  Plan  of  the  Forum, 
75.  6d. 

DYER  (T.  P.  T.)  British  Popular 
Customs,  Present  and  Past. 
An  Account  of  the  various  Games 
and  Customs  associated  with  Dif- 
ferent Days  of  the  Year  in  the 
British  Isles,  arranged  according 
to  the  Calendar.  By  the  Rev. 
T.  F.  Thiselton  Dyer,  M.A.  $s. 


EBERS'  Egyptian  Princess.  An 
Historical  Novel.  By  George 
Ebers.  Translated  by  E.  S. 
Buchheim.  3*.  6d. 

EDGE  WORTH'S  Stories  for 
Children.  With  8  Illustrations 
by  L.  Speed.  31.  6d. 

ELZE'S  William  Shakespeare. 
— See  SHAKESPEARE. 

EMERSON'S    Works.      5   vols. 

3-r.  6d.  each. 
I. — Essays   and   Representative 

Men. 
II.— English  Traits,  Nature,  and 

Conduct  of  Life. 

III. — Society  and  Solitude— Letters 
and  Social  Aims  —  Ad- 
dresses. 

IV. — Miscellaneous  Pieces. 
V.— Poems. 

A  Selection  of  the  Finest  Pas- 
sages from  his  Writings.  Edited, 
with  Biographical  and  Critical  In- 
troduction, by  G.  H.  Perris.  3*.  6d. 

EPICTETUS,  The  Discourses  of. 
With  the  ENCHEIRIDION  and 
Fragments.  Translated  by  George 
Long,  M.A.  5*. 

EURIPIDES.  A  New  Literal 
Translation  in  Prose.  By  E  P. 
Coleridge,  M.A.  2  vols.  51.  each. 

EUTROPIUS.— See  JUSTIN. 

EUSEBIUS  PAMPHILUS, 
Ecclesiastical  History  of.  Trans- 
lated by  Rev.  C.F.Cruse,M.  A.  SJ. 

EVELYN'S  Diary  and  Corre- 
spoadendence.  Edited  from  the 
Original  MSS.  by  W.  Bray, 
F.A.S.  With  45  engravings.  4 
vols.  5*.  each. 

FAIRHOLT'S  Costume  in  Eng- 
land. A  History  of  Dress  to  the 
end  of  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
3rd  Edition,  revised,  by  Viscount 
Dillon,  V.P.S.A.  Illustrated  with 
above  700  Engravings.  2  vols, 
5-r.  each. 


Contained  in  Bohris  Libraries. 


9 


FIELDING'S  Adventures  of 
Joseph  Andrews  and  his  Friend 
Mr.  Abraham  Adams.  With 
Cruiksbank's  Illustrations.  3^.  6d. 

History  of  Tom  Jones,  a 

Foundling.  With  Cruikshank's 
Illustrations.  2  vols.  3-r.  6d.  each. 

Amelia.    With    Cruikshank's 

Illustrations.     $s. 

A  Selection  of  the  Finest  Pas- 
sages from  his  Writings.    Edited, 
with  Biographical  and  Critical  In- 
troduction,  by  Professor  George 
Saintsbury.     3.$-.  6d. 

FLAXMAN'S  Lectures  on  Sculp- 
ture. By  John  Flaxman,  R.A. 
New  Edition.  With  Portrait  and 
S3  Plates.  6s. 

FOSTER'S  (John)  Essays :  on 
Decision  of  Character  ;  on  a 
Man's  writing  Memoirs  of  Him- 
self; on  the  epithet  Romantic  ; 
on  the  aversion  of  Men  of  Taste 
to  Evangelical  Religion.  31.  6d. 

Essays  on  the  Improvement 

of  Time.    With  NOTES  OF  SER- 
MONS and  other  Pieces.     3*.  6d. 

G ASK ELL  (Mrs.)  Sylvia's 
Lovers.  With  Illustrations  in 
Colour  by  M.  V.  Wheelhouse. 
31.  6d. 

GASPARY'S  History  of  Italian 
Literature  to  the  Death  of 
Dante.  Translated  by  Herman 
Oelsner,  M.A.,  Ph.D.  3*.  6d. 

GEOFFREY  OF  MONMOUTH, 
Chronicle  of. —See  Old  English 
Chronicles. 

GESTA  ROMANORUM,  or  En- 
tertaining  Moral  Stories  invented 
by  the  Monks.  Translated  by  the 
Rev.  Charles  Swan.  Revised 
Edition,  by  Wynnard  Hooper, 
B.A.  sj. 

GILDAS,  Chronicles  of.— See  Old 
English  Chronicles. 

GIBBON'S  Decline  and  Fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire.  Complete 


and  Unabridged,  with  Variorum 
Notes.  Edited  by  an  English 
Churchman.  With  2  Maps  and 
Portrait.  7  vols.  31.  6d.  each. 

CKLBART'S  History,  Principles, 
and  Practice  of  Banking.  By 
the  late  J.  W.  Gilbart,  F.R.S. 
New  Edition  (1907),  revised  by 
Ernest  Sykes.  2  vols.  5*.  each. 

GIL  BLAS,  The  Adventures  of. 
Translated  from  the  French  of 
Lesage  by  Smollett.  With  24 
Engravings  on  Steel,  after  Smirke, 
and  10  Etchings  by  George  Cruik- 
shank.  6s. 

GIRALDUS  CAMBRENSIS' 
Historical  Works.  Translated 
by  Th.  Forester,  M.A.,  and  Sir 
R.  Colt  Hoare.  Revised  Edition, 
Edited  by  Thomas  Wright,  M.A., 
F.S.A.  5*. 

GOETHE'S  Faust.  Parti.  Ger- 
man Text  with  Hay  ward's  Prose 
Translation  and  Notes.  Revised 
by  C.  A.  Buchheim,  Ph.D.  5*. 

GOETHE'S    Works,     Translated 
into    English  by  various  hands. 
14  vols.     3J.  6d.  each. 
I.  and  II. — Poetry    and    Truth 
from  My  Own  Life.    New 
and  revised  edition. 
III.— Faust.     Two    Parts,    com- 
plete.    (Swan  wick;) 
IV.— Novels  and  Tales. 
V. — Wilhelm  Meister's  -  Appren- 
ticeship. 
VI.  — Conversations   with   Ecker- 

mann  and  Soret. 
VII.— Poems  and  Ballads. 
VIII.— Dramatic  Works. 
IX.— Wilhelm  Meister's  Travels. 
X.— Tour  in  Italy,  and  Second 

Residence  in  Rome. 
XI.  — Miscellaneous  Travels. 
XII.— Early     and     Miscellaneous 

Letters. 
XIII.— Correspondence  with  Zelter 

(out  of  print). 

XIV.— Reineke  Fox,  West-Eastern 
Divan  and  Acbilleid. 


IO 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


GOLDSMITH'S  Works.  A  uew 
Edition,  by  J.  W.  M.  Gibbs.  5 
vols.  3J.  6d.  each. 

GRAMMONT'S  Memoirs  of  the 
Court  of  Charles  II.  Edited  by 
Sir  Walter  Scott.  Together  with 
the  BOSCOBSL  TRACTS,  including 
two  not  before  published,  &c. 
New  Edition.  $s, 

GRAY'S  Letters.     Including  the   j 
Correspondence    of     Gray     and   j 
Mason.      Edited    by    the    Rev.    ! 
D.    C.    Tovey,    M.A.        3   vols. 
3-r.  6d.  each. 

GREEK  ANTHOLOGY.  Trans- 
lated by  George  Burges,  M.A. 
5»« 

GHEEK  ROMANCES  of  Helio- 
dorus,  Longus,  and  Achilles 
Tatlus — viz.,  The  Adventures  of 
Theagenes  &  Chariclea ;  Amours 
of  Daphnis  and  Chloe  ;  and  Loves 
of  Clitopho  and  Leucippe.  Trans- 
lated by  Rev.  R.  Smith,  M.A. 
5« 

GREENE,  MARLOWE,  and 
BEN  JONSON.  Poems  of. 
Edited  by  Robert  Bell.  3*.  6d. 

GREGOROVIUS,  ROMAN 
JOURNALS,  1852-1874 
Edited  by  Friedrich  Althaus. 
Translated  from  the  Second 
German  Edition  by  Mrs.  Gustave 
W.  Hamilton.  3<-.  6d. 

GREGORY'S  Letters  on  the 
Evidences,  Doctrines,  &  Duties 
of  the  Christian  Religion.  By 
Dr.  Olinthus  Gregory.  3*.  6d. 

GRIMM'S  TALES.  With  the 
Notes  of  the  Original.  Translated 
by  Mrs.  A.  Hunt.  With  Intro- 
duction by  Andrew  Lang,  M.A. 
2  vols.  3*.  6d.  each. 

. Gammer  Grethel;  or,  Ger- 
man Fairy  Tales  and  Popular 
Stories.  Containing  42  Fairy 
Tales.  Trans,  by  Edgar  Taylor, 


With  numerous  Woodcuts  after 
George  Cruikshank  and  Ludwig 
Grimm.  3*.  6d. 

GROSSI'S  Marco  Visconti. 
Translated  by  A.  F.  D.  The 
Ballads  rendered  into  English 
Verse  by  C.  M.  P.  3*.  6d. 

GTJIZOT'S  History  of  the 
English  Revolution  of  1640. 
From  the  Accession  of  Charles 
I.  to  his  Death.  Translated  by 
William  Hazlitt.  3*.  6W. 

History  of  Civilisation,  from 

the  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  to 
the  French  Revolution.  Trans- 
lated by  William  Hazlitt.  3  vols. 
3^.  6d.  each. 

HALL'S  (Rev.  Robert)  Miscel- 
laneous Works  and  Remains. 
35.  6d. 

HAMPTON  COURT:  A  Short 
History  of  the  Manor  and 
Palace.  By  Ernest  Law,  B.A. 
With  numerous  Illustrations.  $s. 

HARD  WICK'S  History  of  the 
Articles  of  Religion.  By  the  late 
C.  Hardwick.  Revised  by  the 
Rev.  Francis  Procter,  M.A.  3rd 
and  cheaper  Edition.  5*. 

HAUFF'S  Tales.  The  Caravan — 
The  Sheik  of  Alexandria —The 
Inn  in  the  Spessart.  Trans,  from 
the  German  by  S.  Mendel.  3^.  6d. 

HAWTHORNE'S  Tales.  4  vols. 
3*.  6d.  each. 

I.— Twice-told  Tales,   and   the 
Snow  Image. 

II.— Scarlet  Letter,andthe  House 
with  the  Seven  Gables. 

III. — Transformation  [The  Marble 
Faun],  and  Blithedale  Ro- 
mance. 
IV. — Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse. 


Contained  in  Bokn's  Libraries. 


It 


HAZLITTS  Table-talk.  Essays 
on  Men  and  Manners.  By  W. 
Hazlitt.  35. 6d. 

Lectures  on  the  Literature 

of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  and  on 
Characters  of  Shakespeare's  Plays. 
3-r.  6d. 

Lectures    on    the    English 

Poets,  and  on  the  English  Comic 
Writers.     3*.  6d. 

The  Plain  Speaker.  Opinions 

on  Books,  Men,  and  Things.  3,'.  Gd. 

Round  Table.    3*.  6d. 

Sketches    and   Essays. 

3J.  6d. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Age;    or, 

Contemporary  Portraits.     Edited 
by  W.  Carew  Hazlitt.     3*.  6d. 

View  of  the  English  Stage. 

Edited  by  W.  Spencer  Jackson. 
3*.  6d. 

BEATON'S  Concise  History  of 
Painting.  New  Edition,  revised 
by  Cosmo  Monkhouse.  55. 

HEINE'S  Poems,  Complete 
Translated  by  Edgar  A.  Bo  wring, 
C.B.  2nd  Edition,  revised.  3.?.  6</. 

Travel-Pictures,  including  the 

Tour  in  the  Harz,  Norderney,  and 
Book  of  Ideas,  together  with  the 
Romantic  School.  Translated  by 
Francis  Storr.  A  New  Edition, 
revised  throughout.  With  Appen- 
dices and  Maps.  3*.  6d. 

HELIODORUS.  Theagenes  and 
Chariclea.  —  See  GREEK  RO- 
MANCES. 

HELP'S  Life  of  Christopher 
Columbus,  the  Discoverer  of 
America.  By  Sir  Arthur  Helps, 
K.C.B.  35.  6d. 

Life   of  Hernando   Cortes, 

and  the  Conquest  of  Mexico.     2 
vols.    3;.  6d.  each. 


HELP'S  Life  of  Pizarro.    3*.  6d. 

Life  of  Las  Casas  the  Apostle 

of  the  Indies.    3*.  6d. 

HENDERSON  (E.)  Select  His- 
torical Documents  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  including  the  most  famous 
Charters  relating  to  England,  the 
Empire,  the  Church,  &c.,  from 
the  6th  to  the  I4th  Centuries. 
Translated  from  the  Latin  and 
edited  by  Ernest  F.  Henderson, 
A.B.,  A.M.,  Ph.D.  5J. 

HENFREY'S  Guide  to  English 
Coins,  from  the  Conquest  to 
1885.  New  and  revised  Edition 
by  C.  F.  Keary,  M.A.,  F.S.A. 
6s. 

KENRY  OF  HUNTINGDON'S 

History  of  the  English.    Trans- 
lated by  T.  Forester,  M.A.      5-r. 

HENRY'S  (Matthew)  Exposition 
of  the  Book  of  the  Psaimg.  5*. 

HERODOTUS.  Translated  by  the 
Rev.  Henry  Gary,  M.A.  3*.  6d. 

Analysis  and  Summary  of 

By  J.  T.  Wheeler.    5s. 

HESIOD,  CALLIMACHUS,  and 
THEOGNIS.  Translated  by  the 
Rev.  J.  Banks,  M.A.  5*. 

HOFFMANN'S  (E,  T.  W.)  The 
Serapioa  Brethren.  Translated 
from  the  German  by  Lt.-Col.  Alex. 
Ewing.  2  vols.  35.  6d.  each. 

HOLBEIN'S  Dance  of  Death 
and  Bible  Cuts.  Upwards  of  150 
Subjects,  engraved  in  facsimile, 
with  Introduction  and  Descrip- 
tions by  Francis  Douce  and  Dr. 
Thomas  Frognall  Dibclen.  $s. 

HOMER'S  Iliad.  A  new  trans- 
lation by  E.  H.  Blakeney,  M.A. 
2  vols.  3-y.  6d.  each. 

Translated  into  English  Prose 

by  T.  A.  Buckley,  B.A.     5*. 


12 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


HOMER'S  Odyssey.  Hymns, 
Epigrams,  and  Battle  of  the  Frogs 
and  Mice.  Translated  into  Eng- 
lish Prose  by  T.  A.  Buckley,  B.A. 
5*- 

-  See  also  POPE. 

HOOPER'S  (G.)  Waterloo  :  The 
Downfall  of  the  First  Napo- 
leon :  a  History  of  the  Campaign 
of  1815.  By  George  Hooper. 
With  Maps  and  Plans.  New 
Edition.  $s.  6d. 

-  The  Campaign  of  Sedan  : 
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i6 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


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MOTLEY  (J.  L.).  The  Rise  of 
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NEANDER  (Dr.  A.)  Life  of 
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History  of  the  Planting  and 

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NIBELUNGEN  LIED.  The 
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NORTH  (R.)  Lives  of  the  Right 
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OMAN(J.  C.)  The  Great  Indian 
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PASCAL'S  Thoughts.  Translated 
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PLANCHE.  History  of  British 
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i8 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


PLATO'S  Works.  Literally  trans- 
lated, with  Introduction  and 
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I. — The  Apology  of  Socrates, 
Crito,  Phsedo",  Gorgias,  Pro- 
tagoras, Phsedrus,  Thesetetus, 
Euthypbron,  Lysis.  Trans- 
lated by  the  Rev.  H.  Gary. 

II — The  Republic,  Timaeus,  and 
Critias.  Translated  by  Henry 
Davis. 

III.— Meno,  Euthydemus,  The 
Sophist,  Statesman.  Cratylus, 
Parmenides,  and  the  Banquet. 
Translated  by  G.  Burges. 

IV.— Philebus,  Charmides,  Laches, 
Menexenus,  Hippias,  Ion, 
The  Two  Alcibiades,  The- 
ages,  Rivals,  Hipparchus, 
Minos,  Clitopho,  Epistles. 
Translated  by  G.  Burges. 

V.— The  Laws.  Translated  by 
G.  Burges. 

VI.— The  Doubtful  Works.  Trans- 
lated by  G.  Burges. 

Summary  and  Analysis  of 

the  Dialogues.    With  Analytical 
Index.     By  A.  Day,  LL.D.     5*. 

PLAUTUS'S  Comedies.  Trans- 
lated by  H.  T.  Riley,  M.A.  2 
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PLINY.  The  Letters  of  Pliny 
the  Younger.  Melmoth's  trans- 
lation, revised  by  the  Rev.  F.  C. 
T.  Bosanquet,  M.A.  $j. 

PLOTINTTS,  Select  Works  of. 
Translated  by  Thomas  Taylor. 
With  an  Introduction  containing 
the  substance  of  Porphyry's  Plo- 
tinus.  Edited  by  G.  R.  S.  Mead, 
B.A.,  M.R.A.S.  5*. 

PLUTARCH'S  Lives.  Translated 
by  A.  Stewart,  M.A.,  and  George 
Long,  M.A.  4  vols.  3*.  6d.  each. 


PLUTARCH'S  Morals.  Theo- 
sophical  Essays.  Translated  by 
C.  W.  King,  M.A.  5*. 

—  Morals.  Ethical  Essays. 
Translated  by  the  Rev.  A.  R. 
Shilleto,  M.A.  5*. 

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1876.  By  W.  J.  Linton.  3^  6d. 

POLITICAL  CYCLOPAEDIA. 
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[  Vol.  I.  out  of  print. 

POPE'S  Poetical  Works.  Edited, 
with  copious  Notes,  by  Robert 
Carruthers.  With  numerous  Illus- 
trations. 2  vols.  <s.  each. 


3.       5J 

'ol.  I. 


[Vol.  I.  out  of  print. 

Homer's  Iliad.      Edited    by 

the    Rev.    J.   S.   Watson,   M.A. 
Illustrated  by  the  entire  Series  of 
Flaxman's  Designs.     $s. 

Homer's  Odyssey,  with  the 

Battle  of  Frogs  and  Mice,  Hymns, 
&c.,  by  other  translators.  Edited 
by  the  Rev.  J.  S.  Watson,  M.A. 
With  the  entire  Scries  of  Flax- 
man's Designs.  5-r. 

Life,   including   many  of  his 

Letters.     By  Robert  Carruthers. 
With  numerous  Illustrations.   Re- 
vised edition.     55. 

POUSHKIN'S  Prose  Tales:  The 
Captain's  Daughter — Doubrovsky 
—  The  Queen  of  Spades  —  An 
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— The  Snow  Storm — The  Post- 
master —  The  Coffin  Maker  — 
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PRHJSCOTT'S  Conquest  of 
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Conquest  of  Peru.  Copyright 

edition,  with  the  notes  of  John 
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- —  Reign  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella.  Copyright  edition, 
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PROPERTIUS.  Translated  by 
Rev,  P.  J.  F.  Gantillon,  M.A., 
and  accompanied  by  Poetical 
Versions,  from  various  sources. 
3*.  6d. 

PROVERBS,  Handbook  of.  Con- 
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PROUT'S  (Father)  Beliques.  Col- 
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Mahony.  Copyright  edition.  New 
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Maclise,  R.A,  Nearly  6co  pages, 
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QUINTILIAN'S   Institutes  of 


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Orator.  Translated  by  the  Rev. 
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each. 

RACINE'S  (Jean)  Dramatic 
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sion. By  R.  Bruce  Boswell,  M.A. 
Oxon.  2  vols.  3*.  6d.  each. 

RANXE'S  History  of  the  Popes, 
during  the  Last  Four  Centuries. 
Mrs.  Foster's  translation  revised, 
with  considerable  additions,  by 
G.  R.  Dennis,  B.A.  3  vols.  3*.  6d. 
each. 

History  of  the  Latin  and 

Teutonic  Nations,  1494-1514. 
A  Revised  Translation  by  G.  R. 
Dennis,  B.A.  With  an  Intro- 
duction by  Edward  Armstrong, 
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3-r.  6d. 

History  of  Servia  and  the 

Servian  Revolution.  With  an 
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Bosnia.  Translated  by  Mrs.  Kerr. 
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RECREATIONS  in  SHOOTING. 

By '  Craven.'  With  62  Engravings 
on  Wood  after  Harvey,  and  9 
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RENNIE'S  Insect  Architecture. 
Revised  and  enlarged  by  Rev. 
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REYNOLDS'  (Sir  J.)  Literary 
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2  vols.  3-f.  6rf.  each. 

RICARDO  on  the  Principles  of 
Political  Economy  and  Taxa- 
tion, Edited  by  E.  C.  K.  Conner, 
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RICHTSR  (Jean  Paul  Friedrich). 
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20 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


ROGER  DE  HOVEDEN'S  An- 
nals of  English  History,  com- 
prising the  History  of  England 
and  of  other  Countries  of  Europe 
from  A.D.  732  to  A.  D.  1201. 
Translated  by  H,  T.  Riley,  M.A. 
2  vols.  5;.  each. 

ROGER  OP  WENDOVER'S 
Flowers  of  History,  comprising 
the  History  of  England  from  the 
Descent  of  the  Saxons  to  A.D. 
1 235,  formerly  ascribed  to  Matthew 
Paris.  Translated  by  J.  A.  Giles, 
D.C.L.  2  vols.  5*.  each. 

[Vol.  II.  out  of  print. 

ROME  in  the  NINETEENTH 
CENTURY.  Containing  a  com- 
plete Account  of  the  Ruins  of  the 
Ancient  City,  the  Remains  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  the  Monuments 
of  Modern  Times.  By  C.  A.  Eaton. 
With  34  Steel  Engravings.  2  vols. 
5-r.  each. 

See  BURN. 

ROSOOE'S  (W.)  Life  and  Ponti- 
ficate of  Leo  X.  Final  edition, 
revised  by  Thomas  Roscoe.  2 
vols.  3J«  6af.  each. 

Life  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici, 

called  «the  Magnificent.'  With 
his  poems,  letters,  &c  loth 
Edition,  revised,  with  Memoir  of 
Roscoe  by  his  Son.  3^.  6d. 

RUSSIA.  History  of,  from  the 
earliest  Period,  compiled  from 
the  most  authentic  sources  by 
Walter  K.  Kelly.  With  Portraits. 
2  vols.  3*  6d.  each. 

SALLUST,  PLORUS,  and  VEL- 
LEIUS  PATERCULUS. 
Trans,  by  J.  S.Watson,  M.A  5*. 

SCHILLER'S  Works.  Translated 
by  various  hands.  7  vols.  3^.  6d. 
each ;— 

L— History  of  the  Thirty  Years' 
War. 


II.— History  of  the  Revolt  in  the 
Netherlands,  the  Trials  of 
Counts  Egmont  and  Horn, 
the  Siege  of  Antwerp,  and 
the  Disturbances  in  France 
preceding  the  Reign  of 
Henry  IV. 

III. — Don  Carlos,  Mary  Stuart, 
Maid  of  Orleans,  Bride  of 
Messina,  together  with  the 
Use  of  the  Chorus  in 
Tragedy  (a  short  Essay). 
These  Dramas  are  all 
translated  in  metre. 
IV.— Robbers  ( with  Schiller's 
original  Preface),  Fiesco, 
Love  and  Intrigue,  De- 
metrius, Ghost  Seer,  Sport 
of  Divinity. 

The    Dramas    in    this 
volume  are  translated  into 
Prose. 
V.— Poems. 

VI.— Essays.^stheticaland  Philo- 
sophical. 

VII.— Wallenstein's    Camp,    Pic- 

colomini    and    Death    of 

Wallenstein,  William  Tell. 

SCHILLER  and  GOETHE. 

Correspondence  between,  from 

A.D.   1794-1805.     Translated  by 

L.  Dora  Schmitz.    2  vols.    3*.  6rf. 

each. 

SCHLEGEL'S  (P.)  Lectures  on 
the  Philosophy  of  Life  and  the 
Philosophy  of  Language.  Trans- 
lated by  the  Rev.  A.  J.  W.  Mor- 
rison, M.A.  3*.  6d. 

Lectures  on  the  History  of 

Literature,  Ancient  and  Modern. 
Translated  from  the  German.  -$s.6d. 

Lectures  on  the  Philosophy 

of  History.    Translated  by  J.  B. 
Robertson.     3.'.  dd. 

Lectures  on   Modern  His- 
tory, together  with  the  Lectures 
entitled    Csesar    and   Alexander, 
and  The  Beginning  of  our  His- 
tory.     Translated  by  L.  Purcell 
and  R.  H.  Whitelock.    3*.  6d. 


Contained  in  Bohris  Libraries. 


21 


BOHLE  GEL'S    JBsthatte  and 

Miscellaneous  Works.     Trans- 
lated by  E.  J.  Millington.  3*.  6ct. 

SCHLEO-EL'S  (A.  W.)  Lectures 
on  Dramatic  Art  and  Litera- 
ture. Translated  by  J.  Black. 
Revised  Edition,  by  the  Rev. 
A.  J.  W.  Morrison,  M.A.  $s.  6d. 

SCHOPENHAUER  on  the  Four- 
fold Root  of  the  Principle  of 
Sufficient  Reason,  and  On  the 
Will  in  Nature.  Translated  by 
Madame  Hillebrand.  5*. 

Essays.    Selected  and  Trans- 
lated.   With  a  Biographical  Intro- 
duction and  Sketch  of  his  Philo- 
sophy, by  E.  Belfort  Bax.     5*. 

SCHOUW'S  Earth,  Plants,  and 
Man.  Translated  by  A.  Henfrey. 
With  coloured  Map  of  the  Geo- 
graphy of  Plants.  5-t. 

SCHUMANN  (Robert).  His  Life 
and  Works,  by  August  Reissmann. 
Translated  by  A.  L.  Alger.  3-r.  6d. 

SCOTT  (Sir  Walter).  A  Selec- 
tion of  the  Finest  Passages  from 
his  Writings.  Edited,  with  Bio- 
graphical and  Critical  Introduc- 
tion, by  Professor  Grant.  %s.  6d. 

SENECA  on  Benefits.  Newly 
translated  by  A.  Stewart,  M.A. 
3-f.  6d. 

Minor  Essays  and  On  Clem- 
ency.    Translated  by  A.  Stewart, 
M.A.     5j. 

SHAKESPEARE  DOCU- 
MENTS. Arranged  by  D.  H. 
Lambert,  B.A.  $s.  6d. 

SHAKESPEARE'S  Dramatic 
Art.  The  History  and  Character 
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Hermann  Ulrici.  Translated  by 
L.  Dora  Schmitz.  2  vols.  31. 6d, 
each. 


SHAKESPEARE  (William).  A 
Literary  Biography  by  Karl  Elze, 
Ph.D.,  LL.D.  Translated  by 
L.  Dora  Schmitz.  55. 

SHARPS  (S.)  The  History  of 
Egypt,  from  the  Earliest  Times 
till  the  Conquest  by  the  Arabs, 
A.D.  640.  By  Samuel  Sharpe, 
2  Maps  and  upwards  of  400  Illus- 
trative Woodcuts.  2  vols.  Seventh 
edition.  5*.  each. 

SHELLEY'S  (P.  B.)  LETTERS. 
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Illustrated.  5-y.  each. 

SHERIDAN'S  Dramatic  Works 
Complete.  With  Life  by  G.  G.  S. 


SISMONDI'S  History  of  the 
Literature  of  the  South  ol 
Europe.  Translated  by  Thomas 
Roscoe.  2  vols.  3-r.  6d.  each. 

SMITH'S  Synonyms  and  An- 
tonyms, or  Kindred  Words  and 
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tion. 5-r. 

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A    Dictionary     of    Synonymous 
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Edited    by  the   Rev.    H.    Percy 
Smith,  M.A.     6*. 

SMITH'S  (Adam)  The  Wealth  of 
Nations.  Edited  by  E.  Belfort 
Bax.  2  vols.  3.;.  6d.  each. 

-  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments. 
With  a  Memoir  of  the  Author  by 
Dugald  Stewart.     3*.  6d. 

SMITH'S  (  Pye  )  Geology  and 
Scripture.  2nd  Edition.  5*. 

SMOLLETT'S  Adventures  of 
Roderick  Random.  With  short 
Memoir  and  Bibliography,  and 
Cruikshank's  Illustrations.  31.  6d. 


22 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books 


SMOLLETT'S  Adventures  of 
Peregrine  Pickle.  With  Biblio- 
graphy and  Cruikshank's  Illus- 
trations. 2  vols.  3.;.  6d.  each. 

The  Expedition  of    Hum- 
phry Clinker.  With  Bibliography 
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35.  6d. 

SMYTH'S  (Professor)  Lectures 
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3-r.  &/.  each. 

SOCRATES  (surnamed  'Scholas- 
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tory of  (A.  D.  305-445).  Translated 
from  the  Greek.  5*. 

SOPHOCLES,  The  Tragedies  of. 
A  New  Prose  Translation,  with 
Memoir,  Notes,  &c.,  by  E.  P. 
Coleridge,  M.A.  5*. 

SOUTHEY'S  Life  of  Nelson. 
With  Portraits,  Plans,  and  up- 
wards of  50  Engravings  on  Steel 
and  Wood.  55. 

Life  of  Wesley,  and  the  Rise 

and  Progress  of  Methodism.     $s. 

Robert  Southey.    The  Story 

of  his  Life  written  in  his  Letters. 
Edited  by  John  Dennis.     3*.  6J. 

SOZOMEN'S  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory. Translated  from  the  Greek. 
Together  with  the  ECCLESIASTI- 
CAL HISTORY  OF  PHILOSTOR- 
Gius,  as  epitomised  by  Photius. 
Translated  by  Rev.  E,  Walf^rd, 
M.A.  $r. 

SPINOZA  S  Chief  Works.  Trans- 
lated, with  Introduction, by  R.H.M. 
Elwes.  2  vols.  5*.  each. 

STANLEY'S  Classified  Synopsis 
of  the  Principal  Painters  of  the 
Dutch  and  Flemish  Schools. 
By  George  Stanley.  55. 

STAUNTON'S  Chess  -  Player's 
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STAUNTON'S  Chess  Praxis.  A 
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Chess-player's  Companion. 

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5*. 

STGCKKARDT'S  Experimental 
Chemistry.  Edited  by  C.  W. 
Heaton,  F.C.S.  5*. 

STOWE  (Mrs.  H.B.)  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin.  Illustrated.  3*.  6J, 

STRABO'S  Geography.  Trans- 
lated by  W.  Falconer,  M.A., 
and  H.  C.  Hamilton.  3  vols. 
51.  each. 

STRICKLAND'S  (Agnes)  Lives 
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the  Norman  Conquest.  Revised 
Edition.  With  6  Portraits.  6  vols. 
5-r.  each. 

Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 

2  vols.     5-f.  each. 

Lives  of  the  Tudor  and  Stuart 

Princesses.    With  Portraits.     5?. 

STUART  and  REVETT'S  Anti- 
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SUETONIUS'  Lives  of  the  Twelve 
Csesars  and  Lives  of  the  Gram- 
marians. Thomson's  translation, 
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SWIFT'S   Prose  Works.     Edited 
by  Temple  Scott.     With  a  Bio- 
graphical Introduction  by  the  Right 
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With    Portraits    and    Facsimiles. 
12  vols.     5*.  each. 
I.— A  Tale  of  a  Tub,  The  Battle 
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Temple    Scott.      With   a 
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Contained  in  Bohris  Libraries. 


SWIFT'S  PROSE  WORKS  (continued}. 
1 1  .—The  Journal  to  Stella.  Edited 
by  Frederick  Ryland,  M.  A. 
With  2  Portraits  and  Fac- 
simile. 
III.&  IV.— Writings  on  Religion  and 

the  Church. 
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VI.— The  Drapier's   Letters. 
With  facsimiles  of  Wood's 
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VII.— Historical      and       Political 

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VIII.— Gulliver's  Travels.      Edited 
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With  Portrait  and  Maps. 
IX.— Contributions  to  Periodicals. 
X.— Historical  Writings. 
XI. — Literary  Essays. 
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graphy, with   Essays    on 
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TACITUS.    The  Works  of.   Liter- 
ally translated.     2  vols.    5-f.  each. 
TASSO'3  Jerusalem  Delivered. 
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TAYLOR'S    (Bishop    Jeremy) 
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TEN  BRINK.— See  BRINK. 
TERENCE  and  PHJEDRUS. 
Literally  translated  by  H.  T.  Riley, 
M.A.    To  which  is  added,  Smart's 
Metrical  Version  of  Phsedrus.    $s. 
THACKERAY  (William).    A  Se- 
lection of    the    Finest   Passages 
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Biographical  and   Critical   Intro- 
duction,   by    G.    K.    Chesterton. 
*.  6d. 


THEOCRITUS,  BION,  MOS- 
CHUS,  and  TYRTJEUS.  Liter- 
ally translated  by  the  Rev.  J. 
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THEODORET  and  EVAGRIUS. 
Histories  of  the  Church  from  A.D. 
332  to  A.D.  427 ;  and  from  A.D. 
431  to  A.D.  544.  Translated.  5*. 

THIERRY'S  History  of  the 
Conquest  of  England  by  the 
Normans.  Translated  by  Wil- 
liam Hazlitt.  2  vols.  3J.  6d>  each. 

THUCYDIDES.  The  Pelopon- 
nesian  War.  Literally  translated 
by  the  Rev.  H.  Dale.  2  vols 
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An  Analysis  and  Summary 

of.    By  J.  T.  Wheeler.     5*. 

THUDICHUM  (J.  L.  W.)  A  Trea- 
tise on  Wines.  Illustrated.  5*. 

URE'S  (Dr.  A.)  Cotton  Manufac- 
ture of  Qreat  Britain.  Revised 
edition.  Edited  by  P.  L.  Sim- 
monds.  2  vols.  5*.  each. 

Philosophy  of  Manufactures. 

Revised  edition.  Edited  by  P.  L. 
Simmonds.  7-r.  6d. 

VARRO  on  FARMING.  (M.  Te 

renti  Varronis  Rerum  Rusticarum 
libri  tres.)  Translated,  with  In- 
troduction, Commentary,  and 
Excursus,  by  Lloyd  '  Storr-Best, 
Litt.D.,  M.A.,  Lond.  5.$-. 

VASARI'S  Lives  of  the  most 
Eminent  Painters,  Sculptors, 
and  Architects.  Translated  by 
Mrs.  J.  Foster,  with  a  Commen- 
tary by  J.  P.  Richter,  Ph.D.  6 
vols.  3*.  6d.  each. 

VIRGIL.  A  Literal  Prose  Trans- 
lation by  A.  Hamilton  Bryce, 
LL-D.  With  Portrait.  3^.  6d. 

VOLTAIRE'S  Tales.  Translated 
by  R.  B.  Boswell.  Containing 
Bebouc,  Memnon,  Candide,  L'ln- 
ge"nu,  and  other  Tales.  31.  6d, 


An  Alphabetical  List  of  Books, 


WALTON'S  Lives  of  Donne, 
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Architecture  by  the  Rev.  T.  PERKINS,  M.A.,  F.R.A.S.  2nd  Edition,  revised. 

BANGOR.     By  P.  B.  IRONSIDE  BAX. 

BRISTOL.     By  H.  J.  L.  J.  MASSE,  M.A.     2nd  Edition. 

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ELY.     By  Rev.  W.  D.  SWHETING,  M.A.     4th  Edition. 

EXETER.    By  PERCY  ADDLHSHAW,  B.A.     4th  Edition. 

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MANCHESTER.     By  Rev.  T.  PERKINS,  M.A. 

NORWICH.     By  C.  H.  B.  QUENNELL.     and  Edition,  revised. 

OXFORD.     By  Rev.  PERCY  DEARMER,  M.A.     2nd  Edition,  revised. 

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ST.  ASAPH.     By  P.  B.  IRONSIDE  BAX. 

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ST.  PATRICK'S,  DUBLIN.    By  Rev.  J.  H.  BERNARD,  M.A.,  D.D.    2nd  Edition. 

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ST.  SAVIOUR'S,  SOUTHWARK.    By  GEORGE  WORLEY. 

SALISBURY.     By  GLEESON  WHITE,     sth  Edition,  revised. 

SOUTHWELL.     By  Rev.  ARTHUR  DIMOCK,  M.A.    2nd  Edition,  revised. 

WELLS.    By  Rev.  PERCY  DEARMER,  M.A.    6th  Edition. 

WINCHESTER.     By  P.  W.  SERGEANT.    4th  Edition,  revised. 

WORCESTER.     By  E.  F.  STRANGE.     3rd  Edition. 

YORK.    By  A.  GLUTTON-BROCK,  M.A.    6th  Edition. 

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BEVERLEY   MINSTER.      By  CHARLES  HIATT.     3rd  Edition. 

ST.  MARY  REDCLIFFE,  BRISTOL.    By  H.  J.  L.  J.  MASSE.  [In preparation. 

THE  CHURCHES  OF  COVENTRY.    By  FREDERICK  W.  WOODHOUSE. 
MALVERN  PRIORY.     By  the  Rev.  ANTHONY  C.  DEANE. 
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ST.  BARTHOLOMEW'S,  SMITHFIELD.     By  GEORGE  WORLEY.  [2nd  Edition. 

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WIMBORNE    MINSTER     and    CHRISTCHURCH     PRIORY.       By    the    Rev.   T. 

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MONT  ST.  MICHEL.     By  H.  J.  L.  J.  MASSE,  M.A. 

PARIS  (NOTRE-DAME).    By  CHARLES  HIATT. 

ROUEN  :   The  Cathedral  and  Other  Churches.    By  the  Rev.  T.  PERKINS,  M.A. 


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