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2. "io

THEOLOGICAL TRANSLATION LIBRARY

Edited by the Rev. T. K. CHEYNE, M.A., D.D., Oriel Professor
OF Interpretation, Oxford ; and the late Rev. A. B. BRUCE
D.D., Professor of Apologetics and New Testament Exegesis,
Free Church College, Glasgow.

VOL. XII.
HARNACK^S HISTORY OF DOGMA. VOL. VII.

HISTOEY OF DOGMA

Dr. ADOLPH HARNACK

ORDINARY PROF. OF CHURCH HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY, AND FELLOW OF

THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCE, BERLIN

TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRD GERMAN

EDITION

NEIL BUCHANAN

VOL. VII.

«^ '

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BOSTON

. LITTLE, BROWN. AND COMPANY

1900

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TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.

The Translator deeply regrets that, in preparing this conclud-
ing volume for publication, he enjoyed only to a limited extent
the aid of the late lamented Professor Bruce, whose enfeebled
state of health precluded the possibility of close and continuous
scrutiny of the English rendering, — although he was engaged in
examining proof-sheets within a few weeks of his death. In
expressing the hope that the volume will not seriously suffer
from appearing mainly on his own responsibility, the Translator
may perhaps be permitted to bear testimony to the profound
interest Dr. Bruce took in Harnack's great work, to his pains-
taking and unwearied efforts to secure that it would be ade-
quately presented to English readers, and to the singular
geniality of his intercourse with those who had the honour
of co-operating with him in his labours.

-10 8^^

PART II.

DEVELOPMENT OF ECCLESIASTICAI, I
BOOK III.

The Threefold Issue of the History of Dogma.

CHAPTER I\~Hisiorical Situation - - - -

In the Middle Ages the elements of the Augustlnian

! Theology grew stronger, but also became dissociated

( from one another ; Thomas made a further effort to

1 maintain them in union - - - - -

The Curialistic and opposing tendencies about ihe year

iS°o

]. I. Curialism -------

^^^^ The usages of the Roman Church are divine truths
^^^^L Indeiiniteness of their extent - . . .

^^^^P The Nominalistic Scholasticism and the^i^j- implicila are

l^^^r Decline of the Old Dogma on-ing to this attitude ; it be-
p comes simply legal order in the service of politics

The Christian Element in the secularised notion of the
\ Church -------

^^^a. The Opposition to Curialism - . . .

^^^F The usages of the Roman Church are tyrannical, and
^^^^H have the witness of ecclesiastical antiquity against them.
^^^H Holy Scripture and the Old Dogma are the only founda-

^^^B tions of the Church .....

W Uncertainty and unlenableness of this standpoint about

f the year 1500 .-..-.

I The general distru5t of theology, " Practical Christianity "

( the watchword. Dogma as legal order -

[ The general inward estrangement from the Old Dogma -

f The attempted return to Augustine

[ Individualism assumes manifold forms

DitTerent possibilities as to the issue of the ecclesiastical
crisis about 1500 -.----

1 The four chapters which make up this volume answer to Chajiteis I
^art II., Book III., in the Original Gennan Edition.

Vlll CONTENTS.

Page

The actual issues (a) in Tndentine Catholicism - - 22

,, „ (b) in Socinianism - - - 23

,, „ C^^ in the Reformation - - - 23
In these issues the issues of Dogma are represented ; the

problem of this last section to be defined accordingly. 27
Addendum : Proof that the History of Dogma must not
extend to the Form of Concord, but must close with

Luther - - - - - - - 29

CHAPTER IL — The Issues of Dogma in Roman Catholicism 35 — 117

1. The Codification of Mediceval Doctrines in opposition to

Protestantism (Decrees of Trent) - - - 35 — 72
Introduction to the Decrees of Trent, influence of the
Reformation, influence of Augustinianism, the attitude of
the Curia, importance and unimportance of the Decrees 35
Sources of knowledge and authorities. Scripture and tradi-
tion - - - - - - - 40

The Sacraments — - - - - - - 43

Baptism ------- 46

Eucharist - - - - - - -47

Penance - - - -'- - -51

Ordination to Priesthood, and Marriage - - 53

Purgatory, Saints, Indulgences - - - - 54

The decrees on sin, grace and justification - - 56

Concluding statement - - - - - 7J

2. Main Features of Dogmatic Development in Catholicism

from i^6j to i8jo as preparing the way for Decrees of

the Vatican ------ 72 — 109

1. {a) Decline of Episcopalism and triumph of Curialism - T^ I
The Professio fidei Tridentinae and the Catechismus j

Romanus - - - - - - -74

Gallicanism, the Four Propositions - - - 75

Louis XIV ------- 75

Napoleon I., the Concordat 1801, de Maistre, etc., Ultra-

montanism in France - - - - - 11

Febronius and the Punctation of Ems - - - 78 |

Ultramohtanism in Germany - - - - 79 '

{b) Scripture and Tradition - - - - 80
Holy Scripture - - - - - 81
The New Gnostic and " enthusiastic " principle of Tradi-
tion - - • -- - - - 82

2. Decline of Augustinianism ----- 86 ^
Bajus ---..--87 I

Lessius, Hamel, Molina ... - - 89 (

The congregatio de auxiliis - - - - - 90

Jansen and Jansenism - - • - - 9'

Quesnel and the Constitution Unigenitus - - - 96
Decisive victory over Augustinianism, the Dogma of the

Immaculate Conception of Mary - . - 99

CONTENTS.

Probabilism and the Jesuits . - . .

Bartholomaus de Medina - - - - -

Pascal, the struggle of the Popes against Probabilism
Thyrsus Gonialei - - . . - -

Alphonso Liguori ----..
The arbitrary decisions of the Curia in the nineteenth

century .---.--
The Vatican Decrees .....

Papal infalhbility - - ....

Prospects for the future, the necess it y of the Ecclesiastical

State an "indubitable truth" ....
Dogma in the hands of the Pope ....

CHAPTER III. — The Issues of DogJita in Antiirinilarianism

and Socinianistn ------ 118—167

1, Historical Introduction . _ _ . - nS — 137
Character, origin and earlier stages of Socinianism - 1 ig
The Pantheistic-Mystic tendency - - - - 122
The Anabaptist Group . . - . . 124
The Rationalistic Reformers - - - - 136
The Pantheistic Rationalistic Reformers, Servede - 128
The attitude toward Tradition and Scripture - - 129
Antitrinitarianism : Sehwenkfeld, Wejgel, Bruno, Denck,

Hatzer, Campanus, Joris, Hoffmann, the Italian Anti-

trinitirians in Switzerland, Poland and Transylvania - 130

Fausto SoKini in Poland - - - - - I3S

2. The Socinian Doctrine ..... \yj-^if,-j
The Christian religion is religion of the Book and rational

theology of the New Testannent — the doctrine of

Scripture -.--.-- 137

The doctrine of the way of salvation ... 142

The doctrine of God (rejection of the doctrine of the

Trinity) .-.---. 144

The doctrine of the Person of Christ . . - 146

The doctrine of the Work of Christ (Sacraments, criticism

of the doctrine of satisfaction) .... 149

The doctrine of Faith - - - - - 159

The doctrine of the Church _ . . . 163

Estimate of Socinianism . - . - . 165

CHAPTER IV.— The Issues of Dogma in Protestantism ■ 168—274

1. Introduction - - - - - - 168

General characterisation of Luther, his position in the

■ History of Dogma a problem ; Luther as restorer of

the Old Dogma and as reformer - - - - 169

2. Luther's Cliristianily . _ , _ . 130 — 212
The religious development of Luther . - _ igo
The God of grace ----.. igj
Reduction of the traditional material, faith as the being

personally apprehended of God - - . - 183

CONTENTS.

■

Freedom -..-..-
The Church ---...-
Word of God and Church -----
Word of God and Christ - . - - -

The Church, as community of believers, the Mother
The new ideal of life . . - . -

Sketch of Luther's theology - . . _

Doctrine of God, Trinity, the F irst Article of Faith

Jesus Christ

Sin (primitive state) . - - - .

Predestination, bondage of the will

Law and Gospel -.----

Justification -------

Luther's criticism of the ruling Ecclesiastical Tradition and
of Dogma

(1) Criltcism of the fundamenta.1 Dogmatic conceptions

(2) Criticism of the ideal of life and of the notion of bles-
sedness . . - . -

Criticism of the Sacraments

„ of the hierarchical system -

„ of the prevailing form of worship -

„ of the authorities. Tradition and Scriplui

„ of the Dogmatic terminology

Final conclusion : Luther's work is the setting up of Faith

^ and the demolition of Dogma

The Catholic elements retained by Luther along with and

in his Christianity
Limitations of Luther, due to his attitude as a reformer and

to the spiritual condition of his e„
Limitations that were opposed to his peculiar character

as a reformer - - - -

Confusions and problems in " Dogmatic " that 1
by him to subsequent times

(1) The Gospel and the "Evangelical doctrine"

(2) Evangelical Faith and the Old Dogma

(3) The Word of God and holy Scripture -
{4) The grace of God and Sacraments

(a) Infant Baptism

(b) Penance . . - -

Lutheran ism.

ERRATA.

Page 9 ; line 2 from top, read beside in place of besides, and delete

comma after this.
Page 97 ; line 3 from top, read Paul in place of Plato,

SECOND PART.
DEVELOPMENT OF ECCLESIASTICAL DOGMA,

THIRD BOOK.

THE THREEFOLD ISSUE OF THE HISTORY

OF DOGMA.

** Also haben die Sophisten Christum gemalet, wie er Mensch
und Gott sei, zahlen seine Beine und Arm, mischen seine beiden
Naturen wunderlich in einander, welches denn nur eine
sophistische Erkenntuiss des Herm Christi ist Denn Christus
ist nicht darumb Christus genennet, dass er zwo Naturen hat.
Was gehet mich dasselbige an ? Sondern er traget diesen
herrlichen und trostlichen Namen von dem Ampt und Werk, so
er -auf sich genommen hat ; dasselbige giebt ihm den Namen.
Dass er von Natur Mensch und Gott ist, das hat er fiir sich ;
aber dass er sein Ampt dahin gewendet und seine Liebe
ausgeschiittet, und mein Heiland und Erloser wird, das
geschieht mir zu Trost und zu Gut." (Luther, Erlang. Ausg.
XXXV. S. 207 f.)

" Adversarii, quum neque quid remissio peccatorum, neque
quid fides neque quid gratia neque quid justitia sit, intelligant,
misere contaminant locum de justificatione et obscurant gloriam
et beneficia Christi et eripiunt piis conscientiis propositas in
Christo consolationes." (Apologia confessionis IV. [ll.] init.)

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

CHAPTER I.

HISTORICAL SITUATION.

In the fourth section of Chapter IV., Vol. V. (p. 222 ff.), it
has been shown that by Augu.stine the traditional dogma was
on the one hand strengthened, i.c., the authoritative force of it,
as the most important possession of the Church, was intensified,
while on the other hand it was in many ways expanded and
recast. That dogma which, in its conception and its construc-
tion, was a work of the Hellenic spirit on the soil of the Gospel
(see Vol. I., p. l^ ffi), continued to exist ; in thinking of dogma
one thought of the knowledge of a supernatural world and
history, a knowledge that was revealed by God, that was
embodied in unalterable articles of doctrine, and that con-
ditioned all Christian life ; but into its structure there were
interwoven by Augustine in a marvellous way the principles of
Christian life-experience, of the experience which he had passed
through as a son of the Catholic Church and as a disciple of
Paul and the Platonists, while the Roman Church thereafter
gave to dogma the force of a great divine system of law for the
individual and for Christian society.

By these foregoing steps, of which the infiuence continued to
be fundamental, the inner history of Western Christianity in the
Middle Ages was determined. We have seen that no sub-
stantially new element can be pointed to in the period of a

thousand years intervening between Augustine and the fifteenth
century. Yet the theme ivhich Augustine had given out was
not merely reproduced and repeated with a hundred different
variations, there was rather a real development and deepening
of it. All the elements of that theme passed through a history ;
they were strengthened. Just for that reason a crisis was bound
to arise. The unity which for Augustine included dogma, the
claims of the understanding, the legal regulations of the Church
and the principles of individual Christian life, was destroyed ; it
could not be maintained. Those claims and these legal re-
gulations and principles betrayed more and more of a centrifugal
force, and, as they grew stronger, asserted the claim to sole
supremacy. Thomas, indeed, the greatest of the Schoolmen,
.still set himself to solve the vast problem of satisfying under
the heading and within the framework of a Church dogmatic all
the claims that were put forward by the ecclesiastical antiquity
embodied in dogma, by the idea of the Church as the living,
present Christ, by the legal order of the Roman Church, by
Augustine's doctrine of grace, by the science of Aristotle, and
by the piety of Bernard and Francis. But the great work of
this new Augustine certainly did not issue in lessening the
strain of the mutually antagonistic forces and in securing a
satisfying unity. So far as it aimed at this effect the under-
takii^g was futile; to some degree indeed it produced the
opposite result. The wealth of material employed in carrying
it out only served to strengthen to the utmost all the forces
that were to be kept controlled within the unity of the whole.
Thomas was as much looked up to as a teacher by the rational
criticism of Nominalism as by the Mysticism of Eckhart and
the " Pre- Re formers," and if he undoubtedly laid the foundation
for the most extravagant theories of the Curialists, yet on the
other hand he strengthened the recollection of the Augustinian
dictum, that in religion it i.s purely a question about God and
the soul.

The task is a difficult one, and can scarcely be carried out, of
indicating in a i^vi of its characteristic features the inner state
of Chri.stian religion in the West at the close of the fifteenth
century ; for the picture this period presents is almost as com-

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION,

plicated as that exhibited by the second century of our era.^
After what has been stated in the foregoing Book, it must be
enough for our purpose to specify briefly the most important
currents in their relation to dogma.

I. Curialism. — About the year 1500 a great party was in
existence that treated Church and reh'gioii simply as an
outward form of dominion, and sought to maintain and extend
them by means of force, officialism, and an oppressive system of
dues. The nations held that the chief seat of this party was to
be sought for in Rome itself, at the papal court, and they were
aware Chat the secularising of the Church, which had become a
heavy burden, not only on consciences, but on all vigorous
forces of life and on ail ideals, was carried on from Rome
without shrinking or shame. It is a matter of no importance
whether among those who in this way undertook to build up
the Church of Christ there were some who in their hearts had
continued inwardly devoted to the cause for which they
ostensibly laboured ; for we have to do here only with the
results which they had their share in producing. For this
party of Church politicians there was at bottom only one
dogma — that the use and wont of the Roman Church was divine
truth. The old dogma had only value and importance in so far
as it was of a piece with the usages of the Roman Church,
There is implied in this that this party had the strongest
interest in giving to the modern decisions and verdicts of the
Curia entirely the same value and authority as belonged to
dogma. As, on the one hand, it could never think of abrogating
anything authoritative (if an old tradition, a passage of Scrip-
ture, or a dogmatic distinction was inconvenient, any unwelcome
consequence was obviated by the new rule that had now made
its appearance, that only the Church, i.e., Rome, liad the right to
expound), so on the other hand it had to see to it that the
nations became accustomed to the startling novelty of attri-
buting the same sacredness to papal decisions as to the decrees
of the great Councils, About 1500 this quid pro quo had

1 Cf, the introductions to the hislory of the Keformation by Kolde (Luther), v.
Behold and Leni (Luther), and also Miiller's Bericht in Ihe VoilrSge der Giessener

$ HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I.

already succeeded up to a certain point, though the success was
-Still far from being perfect. But the spirits of men were
wearied and perplexed after the unhappy course of things
during the period of the Councils fConstance, BSsle). Even
the Councils had succumbed, or were rendered powerless.
Somewhere, nevertheless, a fixed point had to be found.
Accordingly, the Romanists succeeded in again persuading
many that it was unquestionably to be found hi Rome, and
there alone.^ The princes, moreover, intent only on maintain-
ing secular rule over the churches in their own dominions, left the
Curia to act in an irresponsible way in the provinces of faith,
morals, and Church practice, and so on their part strengthened
the presumption with regard to the religious (dogmatic) infalli-
bility and sovereignty of the Roman Chair. The Curia, of course,
could have no interest in gathering the papal decisions into a
sacred code and placing this as a Church law-book side by side
with the old dogma : for thereby the idea would only have been
encouraged which there was a wish to combat — that the Pope,
namely, was bound by a strictly defined dogmatic canon.
What was desired rather was to accustom the nations to see
invariably in the papal directions issued ad hoc, the decisions
that were necessary and that terminated all di.scussion. Just
on that account the Curia was only gratified when there still
remained a certain dubiety about many questions that were
stirred regarding dogma and Church polity ; such dubiet}' it
deliberately fostered where a definite decision could not be
1 See Ihe Bull of I'iu5 II., " Exectahilis," of the year 1459 {Dendnger, Enchiiidiun,
5lh ed., p. 134) ; " Execiahilia e[ pristiois temporibus iimuditus tempeslale nostra
inolevit abitsus, uc a Romano Pontiiice, Jesu Cliristi vicsrio . . . nonnulli spiritu
rebellionis imbuti, ntin sunioris cupiditate Judicii, sed comiiiis;i evasione peccati ad
futuium concilium provocaie prasumanl. . . ■ Volentes igitor hoc pestiferum virus
a Christ! ecclesia procu! pellere et ovi-um nobis commissarutn saluti consulere,
omnemque materiani scandal! ab ovili no^tri iinlvatoiis arceie . . ■ hujusmodi pia-
vocalionea damnamus el lamquam errone-ns ac delcstabiles reprobamus." Bull of
LeoX,, " Pastor iEtein us," of the year 1516 (Deozinger, p. 187): " Solum Romanimi
Pontincem pro tempore existentem tamquam auctotilatetn super omnia concilia
habentcm, lam concilioruni indicendonim transferendorum ac dissolvendorum plenum
jus ac potestatem habere, nedum ex saci^ scripluio^ testimoniu, dictis sanctorum
pattum ac aliurum Romanoruin Ponlificum etiam prxdec
que caTionum decretis, sed piupria etiam eorunulem c

reached without provoking considerable opposition. It had
long been learned, too, from experience, that angling is better
in troubled waters, and that uncertain souls are more easily
ruled than souls that have a clear view of what is valid in the
Church and has the support of truth.

Very closely connected with this was the circumstance, that
in Rome the advantages were more clearly seen which the once
dreaded Noininalistic Scholasticism could furnish in Church
affairs. A theology which, like the Thomistic, aimed at securing
for believers an inner conviction of the things they had to be-
lieve, could certainly also render the Church the greatest ser-
vices, and these services the Church can never quite dispense
with, so long as it does not wield an unlimited external power.
But every theology that is directed towards awakening inner
convictions and producing a unity of thought, will to some ex-
tent also train its scholars in criticising what is at the time in
force, and will therefore become dangerous to a Church system
which forbids all scrutiny of its use and wont. It was other-
wise with the Nominalistic Scholasticism. After a development
for more than 150 years, it had reached the point of show-
ing the irrationality, the (to human view) contingent and arbi-
trary character of even the most important Church doctrines.
Though an interest of faith might also be involved in this great
critical process (see above Vol. Vi., p. i6z), yet its most manifest
result was that there was a resolute surrender to the authority
of the Church. The Church must know what the individual
can never know, and its faculty for understanding reaches
further than the intelligence of believers. That this result was
bound to be welcome to the Curialists is very obvious; Innocent
IV. indeed had been beforehand with the assertion, that the
layman may satisfy himself with faith in God as requiting, if
only he is obedient to the Church. They had no objection
to urge, therefore, against that fides implicita, which is nothing
but blind obedience, and .specially convenient for them must
have been the dissolution of the Augustinian doctrine of grace
which Nominalism had effected by laying stress on the miracle
of the Sacraments and on merit But who, then, really believed
still in the dogmas, and sought life on the ground of his belief?

8 IIISTORV OF nO(.;MA. [CHAl'. I.

Foolish question ! For the most thorough-going Romanism, so
far as it rises to the question of salvation at all, the superior
excellence of the Christian religion above all others consists just
in this, that it is a system which, as an apparatus, produces
under easily fulfilled conditions sanctification of life, up to the
point of a man's being well-pleasing to God and having merit.
Faith, which had always been regarded in Catholicism as some-
thing merely preliminary, is here shrivelled up into submission
to an apparatus. During the time immediately before the Re-
formation many of those who served in working the machine in
Rome had a Humanistic smile on their lips; but they never
went so far as to express vigorous scorn ; for there was too
much convenience in the system that had been built up, and
those who maintained it had too little thought to admit of their
jesting being ever taken seriously.

There can be no doubt that this whole mode of procedure
was a way of burying the old dogma ; not less doubtful is it
that there developed itself here — with an alarming logical con-
sistency certainly — an element that lay in the beginnings of
Western Catholicism.^ Augustine, in his day, had thrown him-
self into the arms of Church authority,* and declared the " cre-
dere," as meaning blind submission to what the Church teaches,
to be the starting-point in the inner process of the Christian life.
But what a wealth of Christian experience he at the same time
brought with him, and how well he understood how to make of
his Church a home ! From this there had been a lapse, or it
had come to be treated as a matter of indifference. To obey
and submit to be trained! — but the training was provided for
by the Sacrament, was provided for by the ludicrously small

1 It has b5en repealedly poinled out in foregoing passages how there are betrayed
already in Tettullian ibe elements of the later Catholicism, and even, indeed, of
Scholasticism. It would be a fine piece of work to gather together and e3tima.te all
the material relating to this : TcrtuUianns doctorum Romanorum piascursor. It is a
lemarkable fact that among the old Catholic Fathers the man who most truly repre-
sented primitive Christianity was at the same time the most modern.

* He hiniBelf could certainly have no inkling of the shocking superstition, a defence
of which would one day he sought for in his ill-omened proposition ; " Quod universa
frequentat ecclesia, quin ita faciendum sit, disputare insolentissimie insania? est ''
' ... - \ihieh the proof from the general usus of

CHAI". I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 9

offerings to which the Church could impart the worth belonging
to moral acts. Beside^ thiythere was no longer a place for
dogma in the old sense of the term, as the definitely outlined
content of what is to constitute the inward conviction of a
Christian and is to be vitalized within him. As dogma was en-
cumbered by a hundred new definitions of which scarcely any
one could take full account — these new definitions, again, being
differentiated according to the form in which Rome had spoken,
as absolutely binding, qualifying, probable, admissible, etc.— it
also became bereft of its direct significance. It is the legal
system of the Roman Church, but a legal sy.stem ever taking
new shape through ever new arbitrary decisions : it is enough
for the Christian to adhere to the institutions which it has
brought into existence. If this course of things had gone on
uninterruptedly and been victorious — victory seemed already to
await it about 1500 — then dogma would have continued indeed
to exist in an outward way, but inwardly both the old dogma
and dogmatic Christianity in general would have disappeared,
and their place would have been taken by a form of religion
belonging to a lower stage. For the way in which Curialism
placed \tie\i above dogma, merely showing respect to hs formal
dignity, did not arise from the freedom of the Christian man,
but only indicated the complete seculaiising of religion by poli-
tics. The " tolerari potest " of the Curia and the " probabile "
produce a still worse secularisation of the Church than the
"anathema sit." And yet there was still inherent in this quite
secularised notion of the Church a Christian element — although
by that time its power to bless had almost entirely disappeared.
That element was faith in the Kingdom of Christ on earth, in its
presence and supremacy in the midst of the earthly and sinful.
In having this faith, those who earnestly resisted all opposition
were superior to their opponents ; for they felt that the men
who opposed, aimed at building up a Church from beneath, that
is to say, from the holiness of Christians. They represented a
religious thought when they upheld the empire of the Pope ; or
rather, .in protecting the Church against Mystics and Hussites,
they involuntarily conserved the truth of the conviction that
the Church of Christ is the reign of the gospel among sinful men.

lO HrSTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I-

2. The Opposition to Curialism was not held together by an
identity of thought; the motives, rather, which had prompted
the opposition were very various. Men were influenced by
political, social, religiou.s, and scientific co n side rat ion .s ; but they
were agreed in the one point, that the usages of the Roman
Church had grown into a tyranny, and that the testimony of
ecclesiastical antiquity was against them. In connection with
the observation of this the theses were maintained, that papal
decisions had not the importance of articles of faith, that it was
not competent to Rome alone to expound Scripture and the
Fathers, that the Council, which is above the Pope, must reform
the Church in its head and members, and that in view of the
innovations in dogma, in cultus and in Church law which had
emanated from Rome, the Church must return to her original
principles and her original condition. These poi^itions were not
only represented in the period before the appearance of Luther
by Conventicles, Hussites, and Waldensians or wild sectaries ;
they found their defenders still more in the ranks of the truest
sons of the Roman Catholic Church. Bishops, theological
faculties and monks of unquestionable orthodoxy gave expres-
sion to them, and Luther was justified in appealing to such men
at the beginning of his career as a reformer.^ Even against
papal pronouncements to a different effect there was held to be
a good Catholic right to maintain, that the basis of the Roman
Catholic Church is to be found only in Scripture and in the dog-
matic tradition of ecclesiastical antiquity.^ With a firmness
that seems strange to us to-day this standpoint is still repre-
sented in the Augsburg Confession ; ^ of course it will be im-
possible to deny that, after what had taken place previous to

■ From the year 1519 ; see also his speech at Worms.

> Hence also Luther's appeal to the Greeks, who weie ceitainly no heretics.

■ In Art. XXI. these terms are used ; " Uasc feie summa est doctrine spud suos,
itt gun cemi potest nihil inesse, quad discrtpet a scripliirii vsl ab iccUsia Catialisa,
Till a6 ecclesia Romatia, qualcnus ex scHpteriius nola est." The cautious mode of
procedure of the Augsburg Confession has been made more apparent by F'icker's
fine book on the Con futatio t Leipzig, iSgi). The Con futacores were unfortunately
right in a number-vf their exposures of the defective candour of tbe Confession.
Luther also was no longer so well salisiied with the book at midsummer, 1530, as he
had been in May, and he had, to some extent, the same strictures to make as the
Catholics .with regard to disaimuialiiin.

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION, I I

the year 1530, it couid .still be asserted there only from tactical
considerations. But even the Emperor himself, as we know,
applied the same criterion : in the acceptance or rejection of the
"twelve articles," i.e., of the Apostolic Symbol as expounded in
the early Church, he saw a profession of orthodoxy or heresy.^

How untenable, however, this standpoint wa.s, and what a
lack of thought was implied in defending it in all seriousness !
In point of fact it was only the circumstance that no crisis of
any gravity had as yet exposed it.s weakness that rendered de-
ception possible as to its having grown frail; and, as the Em-
peror himself was not really guided in his action by it, so none
could maintain it any longer without qualification. Was it not
the case, then, that since the time of Augustine there had
entered into the iron composition of Western religion an im-
mense mass of theological propositions and Christian experi-
ences, which had never been authoritatively fixed, but which never-
theless everj'one regarded as legitimate ? How many regulations
there were which were generalSy recognized as salutary and
proper, and which rested, notwithstanding, only on papal direc-

' See ihe infocmalion given by j^icola, as quoted by Kawerau [Johann Agricola,.
iSSl), p. 100: " It happened that in the Vigili of J uhn the Baptist the Emperor hel*
a banquet in the garden. Now, when Queen Maria asked him what he thought of
doing with the people, and with the Confession that had been delivered np, he gave
the reply : Dear sister, since iny coming into the holy Empire, the great complaint
has reached me that the people who profess this docirine are more wicked than the
devil. But the Bishop of Seville gave me the advice that I should not think of acting
tyrannically, but should ascertain whether the doctrine is at variance with the articles,
of our Christian faith. This advice pleased me, and so I find that the people are
not so devilish as had been represented ; nor is the subject of dispute the Twelve
Articles, but a matter lying outside of them, which I have ihetefore handed over tck
Ihe scholars. If their doctrine, however, had been in conRict with Ihe Twelve Articles,
of our Christian faith, I should have been disposed to apply the edge of the sword."
It is to be noted here that both Thomas a.nd Duns (see RitschI, Fides implidlay
p. 15 f., 30) put down the contents of the symbol as the iheulc^a tevelala, of which
the subject-m alter is distributed among two sets of seven propositions— seven upon
God and seven upon the Incarnation (the myslery of the Godhead, the vi.sionofwhoni
is blessedness, and the mystery of the humanity of Christ, which is the ground o£
attaining to the honour of God's sons). Not even is the Church included here,
(Biel was the first to add it, without, however, bringing out the main Catholic feature,
see p. 34 f.). Everything, on the other hand, thai is not included here belongs to-
Natural Theology, and is subject to an estimate difiereiit from Ihat applied to the
docttines of faith.

lUfiTORi' OF i>oc;ma. [chap. I.

tions or on the tradition of the immediately preceding centuries!
What a readiness there was on all hands to acknowledge the
decisive title of the Pope to interpret Scripture and tradition, in
■cases where his pronouncements coincided with what was re-
garded by one's self as correct ! How much doubt there was
as to how far the Council was superior to the Pope, and what
powers a Council had when it acted without the Pope or assumed
an attitude of opposition towards him ! And what uncertain-
ties prevailed as to what was really to be reformed, the abuses
■or the usages, the outward condition of the Church — that is, its
•constitution and ritual forms, or the administration of the Sacra-
ments, or the Christian life, or the conception of the Church, as
the kingdom established by God in which Christ reigns. We
■derive a clear view of this host of uncertainties even from the
line of action followed by Luther from the year 1517 till the
year 1520. Although by that time he had already laid his hand
on the helm and knew distinctly whither he was steering, what
painful contradictions, compromises, and uncertainties, we at
■once see to have marked his course in those years, when we
observe what reforms he then contemplated, and what view he
took of the powers belonging to the Church ! At that time he
could almost in one breath acknowledge and repudiate the
authority of the Church of Rome, cur.se the papacy and profess
submission to itl

And yet what is in itself untenable and full of contradictions
can nevertheless be a power. This was true of the opposition to
Curialism about the year 1500. We should, however, be very
much mistaken were we to assume that the efforts of the
■opposition, which appealed to ecclesiastical antiquity against the
innovations of Curialism, exercised, or were even intended to
exercise, any considerable influence on the shaping oK doctrine
in the direction of a conscious return to the old ecclesiastical
theology. The thought of such a return was almost entirely
ab.sent, because the period generally was an untheological one.
This distinguishing feature wh ich characterised the two genera-
tions immediately preceding the Reformation — the develop-
ment of which, moreover, had begun at an earlier date — has had
little justice done to it hitherto in the formation of an estimate

CHAP. 1.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 1$

of the Reformation. The case can be briefly stated : about the
year 1500 theology as such was discredited; no one expected
anything from it, and it had itself ceased to have any real con-
fidence in its work. Many factors had contributed to this.
Nominalist Scholasticism had in a sense declared itself bankrupt,
and had buried itself in subtleties that were the result of a
systematic abuse of the Aristotelian philosophy. Humanism
turned away from theology with complaint or with ridicule — in
both cases mainly on the ground of a superficial criticism. The
men of piety — they might be pious a.'^ Erasmus or pious as
Staupitz — sought a remedy for the evils of the times, not in
theology, but always still in mystic transcendentalism and in
indifference to the worldly conditions that environ the bodily
life of men ; that is, they sought it with St. Francis or the holy
communists of the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Everywhere
in the circles of the religiously awakened, the cry for " practical.
Christianity" was united — as it is to-day — with a weary dislike
of theology. Not that by any means there had as yet been a
growing out of theology; but the anxieties, which were the
results of the general revolution in the times, were enough — as
they are to-day — to awaken the feeling that nothing more could
really be done with doctrine as it was then expressed. Besides-
all this, the active life had for two generations been insisting
upon its rights, and accordingly a diminished worth was attached,
to quietistic contemplation. This was the mightiest revolution
in the spirit of the times. Even the Renaissance was only an
element in it For religion and theology a crisis thus arose, a
crisis the most severe they could pass through from the time of
their origin ; for both of them were embedded in acosmistic
Quietism. Either they must disappear along with this, or they
must be forcibly severed from it and transferred into a new
medium.

Had the ecclesiastical "doctrine" been only science, it would,,
under such circumstances, have run its course; it would have
been obliged simply to step aside and give place, even outwardly,
to another mode of thought. This result really followed among
the Anabaptist-Antitrinitarian and among the Socinian groups,
with whom all those elements connbined found lodgment which

led on to " Illuminism." This will have to be dealt with later
-on. But Christian doctrine is not merely "science," and durinc;
the eighteen centuries of its existence Christendom as a whole
'has never had the wish to break with history (even the most
radical movement — Calvinism — represents no complete
apostasy). Nay, it has felt as if every break, even with the most
unhappy past, would mean self-dissolution. The past, however,
was dogma and dogmatic theology. If there was neither the
ability nor the will to become severed from the.se, and if, never-
theless, there was an ever-increasing estrangement from them —
as the cry for practical Christianity and the disregard for the
theological element proved— the necessary consequence was that
dogma was respected as a system of lazv, but put aside. That
was really the state of things that had established itself also
.among the ranks of the parties in opposition. Anyone who
attacked dogma exposed himself to the risk of being set down
as an anarchist. But anyone who sought a remedy for the
times in return to dogmatic Christianity and in closer occupa-
tion with its contents, and who aimed at getting quit of certain
practical abuses by falling back on the old dogmatic theorj', was
regarded as wrong-headed, as a creator of disturbance, nay. as
a man to be suspected. Within the circles of higher-class
science favourable to reform, and even within the circles of the
silent opposition throughout the land, it was apt to be looked on
as an instance of monkish squabbling when an attempt was
made to proceed by means of theory against the indulgences, the
unlimited worship of .saints, and the ritualistic extravagances of
the Church system. But even such attempts were partial and
infrequent. At the most there was a falling back upon
Augustine — the age tolerated that up to a certain point, nay,
demanded it; but where can we find, in those days, the man
who turned back to Christology and the doctrine of God in order
on the basis of these to revise and recast what was held as
valid ?

The ultimate cause of this lack and this incapacity is not
indeed to be sought for in the desolating effects of Nominalism,
of in the aesthetic spirit of the Humanists ;' it lay, rather, in the
' cr, Drews, Humanismiis vmil Rerormiition, 18S7.

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 1$

enormous disagreement that existed between the old dogma and
the Christian intuitions that had taken shape in the Christian
life of the time. This disagreement, which we have noted even
in Augustine, and which is so plainly perceptible at the
beginning uf the Middle Ages in Alcuin,^ had become even
greater. Which out of the number of the old ecclesiastical
dogmas, then, had still a directly intelligible meaning for piety
in its then living form ? Which dogma, as traditionally under-
.stood, had still a real motive power for Christian thought and
life ? The doctrine of the Trinity ? But we only need to glance
at the Scholastic doctrine of God, or at Anselm's doctrine of
reconciliation, or at the books of devotion and the sermons of
that period, in order to feel convinced that the time was past
when the thought of the Trinity might, as in the days of
Athanasius and the Cappadocians, form the main basis of
edification for the Church, The doctrine of the two natures?
But unless we are disposed to lend an ear to the .sophists, can
we fail to hear the strong protests against this doctrine's power
to edify, that came from Bernard's mystic devotion to the
Bridegroom of the Soul, from the Jesus-love of St. Francis and
Thomas a Kempis, and from the image of the man Jesus, whose
sorrow- stricken features were prest:nted to view by every
preacher in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries? Did not
the doctrine of grace, whether we think of it in the Augustinian-
Thomistic or the Scotistic form, did not the huge apparatus of
the Sacraments presuppose quite a different Christ from that
sharply-defined intellectual thought- structure of Leontius and
John of Damascus, which glorified the triumph of the divine
nature in the human, and sought to produce by mere contempla-
tion of the union the feeling of a subjugation and redemption of
ail flesh ? Here lay the ultimate cause of the inward estrange-
ment from dogma. Thought was no longer Greek thought,
though speculation might apparently succeed without special
trouble in returning to these conceptions. But for speculation
the conceptions were now only presuppositions, they were no
longer Christianity itself. When, however, the old faith is no
more the expression of inner conviction, a new faith shapes
' Si;e Haiick, K.-Gesch. Deutschlamls II. I, pp. IJ2-136.

l6 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I-

itself under the envelope of the old. All spheres in which
Christian thought and life moved lay far apart from those
spheres of thought in which there had once developed itseif the
faith that might be held. It had now come to be a faith that
must be held ; therein one had the merit of Christ, the
Church, the Sacraments, one's own merit and the indulgences.
Within these faith and Christian life moved. While one
asserted that he stood on the old ground and had not departed
from it by a hair's breadth, there had been advance — a glorious
advance indeed ; but on the pathway there were gulfs that had
not been avoided, and they led down to the deepest regions.
There were not a few who observed this with terror and strong
displeasure ; but how could it be helped, so long as it was not
clearly seen how the condition had developed in which one
found himself, at what point the error had really arisen, and
where the height lay that one was required to reach ?

We can understand how under such circumstances there
should have been a going back to the authority that had at first
pointed out the path by which one had travelled for a thousand
years, and on which there had been the experience of a
splendidly gratifying progress, but also of a deep fall^a going
back, that is to say, to Augustine. In his works were to be
found most powerfully expressed all the thoughts from which
edification was derived ; and on the other hand it was believed
that the grave abuses and errors were not to be found there
which one lamented at the time. Hence the watchword :
" Back to Augustinianism, as to the true Catholicism of the
Fathers." In very different forms this watchword was given
forth; in a comprehensive way by men like Wyclif, Huss,
Wesel, Wessel, and Pupper of Goch ■} in the most cautious form
by all those theologians who in the fifteenth century and at the
transition from the fifteenth century to the sixteenth went back,
in oppo.sition to the prevailing Nominalism, to the Thomistic
doctrine of grace. There seems to have been not a few of them ;

1 Very thorough work has been carried on by Dutchmen during the most recent
dccennia on the Auguslinians of the Netherlands, A very eicellent monograph on
Goch has ijuite l9.tely been produced by Otto Clemen (Leipzig, 1S96). On the relation
of Goch to Augustinianism, see I.e., pp. 209-223.

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION.

but if they were few, the distinguished position of those who
reverenced Thomas made up for the smallness of their number ;
for some of them were to be found among the highest prelates,
even in Italy. The importance of this retrograde theological
movement at the beginning of the sixteenth century is not to be
underestimated ; it became — no doubt under the strong pressure
of the German Reformation — one of the most influential factors
in the Romish Church, when the question arose in the middle of
the sixteenth century as to the dogynatic position that was to be
taken up towards Protestantism. But Augustine could give to
no age more than he himself possessed. Even by him an
artificial connection only could be formed with the old dogma,
because he had in many respects inwardly grown out of it ; and
on the other hand the germs of the abuses and errors of later
times which there was a desire to discard were already deposited
in him, whether one might observe it or not. To find in
Augustine a remedy for the evils from which the Catholic
Church suffered would at the best have been to secure a reform
for a few generations. But the old abuses would inevitably have
returned ; for their strong, though hidden, roots lie in Augus-
tinianism itself. Had the Church been remodelled after his
pattern, there would very soon have been a re-introduction of
everything there was the wish to remove. This is no airy
hypothesis ; it can be proved both from the Christianity of
Augustine himself and from the history of the Catholic Church
in more recent times. While the grave errors and abuses could
only assert themselves powerfully by means of a disintegrating
process on Augustinianism, yet they must be regarded as active
influences of which the sources lay in Augustine's Christianity.
But this observation, while it goes to the root of things, must
not prevent our noticing very distinctly that ^^ genuine Augus-
tinianism exercised a potent critical influence on what had be-
come disintegrated, including Nominalism. It was a power full
of blessing. It may very well be said that there never would
have been a Reformation had there not been first a revival of
Augustinianism. It may of course be asserted, on the other
hand, that this revival would not even have resulted in such
Decrees as those of Trent, had it not been strengthened by a

l8 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I.

new force. But at any rate there was so great a gulf between
the immoral, the irreligious, and even pagan mechanicaiism of
the ruUng church system, and the piety of Augustine, that one
cannot fail to observe the salutary reform that would have
resulted, if, for example, the Christianity of Wyclif had become
determinative in the Catholic Church.

In addition to all this, there had developed itself, amid the
decay of medieval institutions, and under the great change of
existing conditions, one element which we find everj'where at
the beginning of the Reformation period, and which animated
in varying degrees the opposing parties. Along all lines of
development there had been an ultimate arriving at it ; in all,
indeed, it was the secret propelling force, which broke up the
old and set itself to introduce something new. It is difficult to
describe it in one word : subjectivism, individuality, the wish to
be one's self, freedom, activity. It was the protest against the
spirit of the centuries that had been lived through, and the
beginning of a new attitude to the world generally. On a
superficial view it appears most distinctly in the ideals of the
Renaissance and Humanism; but it lived quite as much in the
new politics of sovereigns and in the indignation of the laity at
the old regulations in corporation and community, in Church
and State. It was powerful in the Mystics' world of feeling,
with their striving after practical activity ; nay, it is not undis-
coverable even in the Nomina]istic Scholasticism, which, in its
gloomy work of ruining the traditional theology, was not
directed by the intellect only, but wrought from a dim impulse
to restore religion to faith, and to bring to view faith's inde-
pendent right and its freedom. The new element revealed
itself everywhere as a two-edged principle : the age of Savo-
narola was the age of Machiavelli ; in religion it comprehended
all forms of individual religiousness, from the right of unbridled
imagination and of prophetism to the right of liberty belonging
to the conscience that is bound by the gospel. Within these
extremes lay a whole graduated series of individual types; but
at many points in the series the eager endeavour to come to
one's self, to be and live and act and work as one's self, awakened
the restless feeling : if thou art now thyself, and beginnest thy-

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 19

self to live as a man and as a Christian, where is the rock to
which thou mast cling ; what is thy blessedness, and how art
thou to become certain of it ? How canst thou be, and continue
to be, at once a blessed and a free man? In this feeling of
unrest the age pointed beyond itself; but we do not observe
that even a single Christian could clearly understand the ques-
tion that lay at the basis of this unrest, and give to it the
answer.

It certainly repays trouble to consider what would have
become of dogma if the development had continued which we
observe in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and if no new
factor had intervened. Issues of dogma there would assuredly
have been ; but the question, of course, does not admit of being
decided as to what issue would have remained victorious. We
can conceive (i) that Curialism might have rapidly achieved a
complete triumph and vanquished all refractory elements; in
that case the sovereign papal will would have come to be the
court of final appeal even in the domain of faith and morals,
and the old dogma would have become a part of the papa!
consuetudinary law, which would really have been modified
ad libitum by arbitrary interpretations and decisions of the
Pope. Under such circumstances, believers would have been
obliged to become accustomed to tlie thought that fides implicita,
that is, obedience, was a work of merit, imparting value to all
their other doings, so far as the sacramental system imposed
these upon them. In a material sense dogma would have come
to an end ; the Church would have remained the institution
authorised to grant salvation ; even though no one had beh'eved
what it taught, yet all would have submitted to its regulations.
There would thus have been a sinking to a lower stage of
religious development. But it can also be conceived (2) that
from the circles of the parties opposed to it a reform might
have been forced upon the Church ; a reform which, within the
field of ecclesiastical law, would have consisted in a reduction
of the powers of the papacy in favour of an ecclesiastical oli-
garchy, and, within the field of dogmatic, in an establishment

20 HISTORY OF nOGMA. [CHAP. I.

of the Augustim'an-Mystic Christianity. We can very welJ
imagine that all the Augustinian-Mystic thoughts, which as yet
had received no dogmatic symbolic definition whatever, but
which formed the basis of the piety of the best Christians,
would have come eventually to be strictly formulated. In this
case two things would have been possible : the attempt might
have been made to maintain the connection with the old dogma,
as even Augustine had maintained it (even in that event it
would at any rate have become clearly apparent that those
dogmas were presuppositions that had been transcended), or it
would have been shown that another view of the Godhead and
another view of the God-man must be substituted for the old.
But (3) there might also have been expected at the beginning
of the sixteenth century a breaking up of the Church. One
section would have advanced along the path described under i
or 2, another would have taken its course from the illuminist
directions that were given in the pantheistic Mysticism that
neutralised historic Christianity, in the rationalistic criticism of
dogma by Nominalism, and in the Humanistic conception of
the world. If such a movement had taken shape, it would have
been a question whether it would have .stopped short before
Scripture, or whether it would not even have advanced beyond
it One might be ready to expect both in observing the signs
of the times about the year 1 500. In the one case a rationalistic
or an enthusiastic Bible-Christianity would have been the issue,
in the other case developments would have necessarily resulted
which cannot be calculated. But in both cases the old dogma
would have ceased to exist. But, lastly (4), one could have
expected (though it is questionable whether, in view of the
medijBval condition of things, such an expectation could have
arisen had the Reformation not taken place) that out of the
fermenting elements in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries a
new and deeper type of religion would have developed itself
That is to say, if we combine things that clearlj' present them-
selves to view — that a number of the theologians (Dominican
Mystics) were disposed to labour, even in theology, only at
what was really ^r edification, that the point was being sought
for in the spiritual nature of man that is at the same time the

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 21

seat of religion and the nucleus of the soul's life, that out of this
nucleus there was to be formed by regeneration a new inner
man, who must become certain of his blessedness 3.x\A freedom;
if we add to this that Nominalism had taught the lesson that
the endless efforts of speculation can produce no certainty, that
certainty therefore must be sought for somewhere else; and if
we then take into consideration what the general state of mind
was — that men were then striving to free themselves from the
spirit of the Middle Ages, to return to the sources, and to live
henceforth as independent personalities, it is perhaps not too
bold to expect in the province of religion, at the beginning of
the sixteenth century, a new development that would include
an evangelical reformation of all that constituted religion, but
that would thereby also uproot and put an end to the old dogma,
inasmuch as the new point of departure, the living faith in God
as being gracious for Christ's sake, and the right to be free
springing from that faith, could only allow what belonged to it
to retain its place in theology.

But the actual history did not exactly correspond with
these expectations. This time, also, history did not connect the
new epoch with the old as logic develops a new position from
the refutation of an old. The real issues of dogma rather, in the
.sixteenth century, continued to be burdened with contradictions,
which raised for the period that followed important problems.
For that reason one might be in doubt as to whether issues can
really be spoken of; still, after what has been developed in the
Prolegomena to the history of dogma (Vol I., i ff,), and what
has been stated in the sequel, it will certainly be necessary to
use this term.

In the sixteenth century the crisis in the history of dogma
took a threefold issue.'

' The crisis in thi history of dogma — if we review the developmenl in connection
with the whole movement of spiritual life we shull not 5pea.k of issues, nor shall we
be satisfied with the movemenls in the history of dogma. In that case, rather, the
historical reflections would have to he included, which Dillhey has so admirably

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I-

I. The old Church developed itself on the one hand more
decidedly into the papal Church, and thereby struck out on the
path indicated above (sub. i); but, on the other hand, it gave
fixity to the Augustinian-Mediaeval doctrines, and added them
to the old dogmas as equally legitimate portions of the system
(see above, sub. 2). Although that took place at Trent in a way
clearly indicating that the position taken up was not within
dogma, but aiove it, and that on that account there was the
decision to regulate it by the practical needs of the Church as
an outward institution, yet one was obliged to make coinpromises ;
for the Reformation forced even the old Church to judge
spiritual things spiritually, or at least to adopt the appearance
of a spiritual character. Just for that reason the Decrees of
Trent still belong to the history of dogma ; for they are not
merely products of the ecclesiastico-political skill of the Curia,
although they do very really bear that character. So far, how-
ever, as this is not the case, they prepared many difficulties for
the Church, and checked its full development into Curialism.
The discords and struggles within the Catholic Church during
the following three centuries made this sufficiently plain. But
these struggles resulted, step by step, in suppressing the elements
of opposition, till at last, after the immeasurable service which
the French Revolution and Napoleon I. rendered to Curialism,
the complete victory of the papacy could be proclaimed in the
dogma of Mary and in the Vatican Decrees. In this way that
was at last attained which the Curia and its followers already
developed in hiij disserUlions on "The Nalutal History of the Menial Sciences in
the Seventeenth Century" (Archiv, f. Gesch. der Phaoaophie, Vol. V., p. 480 ff. : Vol.
VI., pp. 6o-I?7, i3S-2$6, 347-379, 509-54-5); cf. also his essay on "The Autonomy
of Thought, Constructive Rationalism, and Pantheistic Monism, viewed in their
connectioti in the Seventeenth Century" (I.e. Vol. VII., pp. 28-91). Dilt hey dis-
tinguishes between three great treniis in the theoloey of the sixteenth cenluiy,
which in some minds, of course, crossed one another ; (t) The ecclesiastical lheol<^y,
which adhered to the system of dogma (though with modifications) ; (?) the trans-
cendental theology (Christianity as the fulfilment of the universal religious striving
and slru^le that goes on everywhere and at all limes in humanity) — the school that
deals with the universal that lies behind the religions and their forms ; (3) ihe ethical
rationalism (expressed most definitely in Sociniaaism). The first tendency has its
root in the more or less purified wc/ej/ai/jca/ tradition, the second in the intuition
and feeling of an All-One that reveals itself in a variety of degrees in all that is
individual, the third in the ideas of the Stoa.

CHAP, l] historical situation.

sought to reach in the sixteenth century ; as the Church became
the handmaid of the Pope, so dogma also became subject to his
sovereign rule. It is at the same time a matter of entire in-
difference in what speculations CathoUc theologians indulged
with regard to the relation of the papacy to dogma, when they
asserted that the Pope was bound by Catholic doctrine ; for
anyone who has the right to expound will always be able to
find a way in which a new dogma which he creates can be set
forth by him as an old one. The whole idea of dogma, how-
ever, as the faith which ought to animate every Christian heart,
and which makes the Christian a Christian, is in reality dis-
carded so far as it is left to each individual to determine whether
or not he can adopt the faith in its whole extent. If he succeeds
(but who could succeed in view of the whole, half, and quarter
dogmas, and the countless multitude of decisions ?), so much the
better; if he fails, then no harm is done, if only he has the
intention to believe what the Church believes. That we have
here an issue of the history of dogma, whether more new dogmas
are afterwards to be formulated or not, is a matter beyond
doubt.

2. In the sixteenth century Antitrinitarijin and Socinian
Christianity developed itself It broke with the old dogma and
discarded it. In view of the rapid decline of the Socinian com-
munities it might be held that the consideration of their
Christianity does not belong to the general history of the
Church at all, and therefore also does not belong to the history
of dogma ; yet, if we take into account with how much certainty
Antitrinitarianism and Socinianism can be connected with the
raedlKval development (Nominalism), with what energy the
Protestant dogmatic of the seventeenth century grappled with
them as its worst enemies, and finally, how closely in touch is
the criticism applied to dogma by evangelical theologians in the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries with the Socinian criticism,
we should be in conflict with history were we to think of ignor-
ing the issue of the history of dogma that is presented in
Socinianism.

3. But a third issue is to be found in the Reformation itself,
though certainly it is the most complicated, and in many re-

24 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I.

spects the most indefinite one. Instructed by history itself, the
Reformation obtained a new point of departure for the framing
of Christian faith in the Word of God, and it discarded all
forms of infallibility which could offer an external security for
faith, the infallible organisation of the Church, the infallible
doctrinal tradition of the Church, and the infallible Scripture
codex.' In this way that view of Christianity from which
dogma arose — Christian faith the sure knowledge of the ulti-
mate causes of all things, and therefore also of the divine provi-
sions for salvation — was set aside : Christian faith is rather the
firm assurance of having received from God, as the Father of

' With regard lii the firsl point a proof is unnecessary. With regard to the sei;ond
lei Lulher's treatise be read, " Von den Conciliis und Kirchen " (1539) ; but along
with this also Form. Concord. P. I. Epi-tome, p. 517 (ed. Miiller) ; " Reliqua vero
sive pattum stve neoteiicorum scripts, quocunque vmiant tiamine, sacris litteris
nequaquam sunt xquiparanda (not even the decrees of the Councils therefore) sed
universa i/lis ita sub^tcietida sunt, ut alia ratione ncn rccipiantur, nisi tes/iuin loco,
qui doceant, quod etiam post apostolomin tempora et in quibus paitibus orbis doctrimt
ilia pTophetarum et apostolorum sincerior conservata sit. . . . Syinliola et alia scripta
non obtinent aiictoritatem judicis." Also Ait. Smalcaid. II. 2, p. 303: "Verhum
dd condit articulos fidei, et prieterea nemo, ne angelus quidem." Also " Etliche
Aitikel, so M. Luthei; erhalten will wid«r die game Satansschule (1530, Erianger
Ao^. XXXI. p. 122): "The Chtisliin Chuich bas no power to lay down any
articles of faith, has never yet done so, nor will ever do so. . . . All articles of laith
are sufficiently laid down in Holy Scripture, so that one has no liberty to lay down
more. . . . The Christian Church ratifies the Gospel and Holy Scripture as a sub-
ordinate ; it displays and confesses as a servant displays bis master's livery and coat-
of-amis," and see other passages. With regard to the third point, later Protestantism
narrowed its position. But, so far as is known, no Lutheran of any standing, with
the exception of Kliefoth, has ventured to sever himself publicly from the Luther of
the earlier years. If, however, the attitude is at least jttsHjiahle in Protestantism
which Luther took up in his well-known prefaces to the New Testament books (see
the remarks on the Epistle of James, the Epistleto the Hebrews, and the Apocalypse),
that implies the discarding of the infallible Scripture canon. At the same time,
while historically very important, it is essentially a matter of indiflerence that there
are to be found in Luther, especially after the controversy on the Eucharist, many
assertions that are to the effect that every letter of Scripture is a foundation of Christian
feilh, for the flagrant contradiction thatsomething at the same time does not, and does,
hold good, can only have the solution that it does not hold good. This, however,
necessarily follows also from Luther's view of faith, for the basis of his view isthat&ith
is wrought by the Holy Ghost through the preached Word of God. Moreover, there is
a common admission at the present day in the widest circles in Protestantism that
historic criticism of Scripture is not un evangelical. No doubt this admission extends
only to the " principle." Many forbid themselves the application.

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION.

Jesus Christ, the forgiveness of sins, and of living under Him in
His kingdom^nothing else. But from that dogma all supports
were at the same time removed ; for how can it be unreformable
and authoritative if men, with their limitations and entangle-
ments in sin, sketched and formulated it, and if every security
external to it is lacking? And yet the Reformers allowed the
old dogma to remain ; nay, they did not even submit it to
revision. No doubt it was not as a law of faith over and above
faith, a law resting on certain outward guarantees, that they let
it retain its force; their so acting was from the conviction,
scarcely ever tested, that it exactly corresponded with the
Gospel, the Word of God, and that it attests itself to everyone
as the obvious and most direct meaning of the Gospel. They \
regarded it as a glorious confession of God, who has sent Jesus
Christ, His Son, in order that we, being delivered from sins,
may be made blessed and free. Because they found this witness
in dogma, every motive disappeared for inspecting it more
closely.^ It was not as dogma that it continued to them authori-
tative, but as a confession of God the Lord, who is hidden from
the wise, but revealed unto babes. But because it remained in
force at all, it remained in a sense as dogma. The old dogma
was certainly not merely an evangelic testimony to the God of
grace, to Christ the Redeemer, and to the forgiveness of sins;
indeed it reproduced these thoughts of faith only in an indefinite
way ; it was, above all, knowledge of God and the world, and a
law of faith. And the more strenuously the Reformation ac-
centuated y^/V//, the more emphatically it represented it as the
basis of all, in contrast with the uncertainties of the hierarchical,
ritual, and monastic Christianity, the more disastrous did it
necessarily become for it that it forced together, without observ-
ing it, this faith and that knowledge of faith and law of faith.
When in particular there was now added the pressure of the
external situation, and, as the result of the storms that had
arisen (Fanatics, Anabaptists), the courage disappeared to assert
anything "that is at variance with the Catholic Church or the
Church of Rome, so far as this Church is known from the
writers of Scripture " {" quod discrepet ab ecclesia catholica vel
' See Kaltenbusch, Luther's Stellung zu den okuraen. Symbolen, 1883.

26 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I-

ab ecclesia Romana, quatenus ex scriptoribus nota est"), the
movement issued in the Augsburg Confession, which does not
indeed deny the principle of evangelical Christianity, but which
at the same time began (yet compare already the Marburg
Articles) to pour the new wine into the old bottles.^ Did the
Reformation (in the sixteenth century) put an end to the old
dogma? It is safer to answer this question negatively than
positively. But if it is granted that it uprooted the foundations
of dogma — as our Catholic opponents with perfect justice re-
present — ,that it is a powerful principle and not a new system
of doctrine, and that its history, throughout the periods of
Orthodoxy, Pietism, and Rationalism, and down to the present
day, is not an apostasy, but a necessary development, then it
must also be granted that the entirely conservative attitude of
the Reformation towards the old dogma belongs, not to the
principle, but to the history. Therefore, the Reformation, as a
continuously active movement, certainly represents an issue
of the history of dogma, and, we hope, the right and proper

1 That the gospel of the ReformKlion fo-und a mnslerly expression in the Confession
of Augsburg (Loofs, D. Gesch., 3rd eci., p. 399 : he cautiously adds, cerlainly,
" and in the Apology explaining it,") I cannot admit. The Augsburg Confession laid
the basis for the doctrinal Church ; the blaioe very really lies with it of contracting
the Reformation movement. Would anyone have so written before 1526, not to say
tjefore 1529? Its arrangement is Scholastic, and, besides, is wanting in cleamess ;
its statements at important paints are, po&itively and negatively, intentionally iucom-
plete ; its diplomatic advances to the old Church are painful, and the way in which
it treats the sectaries as naughty children, and flings out its " anathemas," is not^ioly
loveless but unjust, dictated not merely by spiritual zeal, but also by worldly wisdom.
Yet it must not be denied that at the most important points it struck the naii on the
head, and that inlaid in this earthen vessel there are precious stones, with a simplicity
and fitness of setting which we find in no other Reformation writing. We can
already develop from the Augsburg Confession the Church of the Foim of Concoid,
if not the particular doctrinal formula ; but we can also, by moving backwards, derive
from it, and maintain, the freer evangelical fundamental thoughts, without which there
never would have resulted a Reformation or an Aogsbui^ Confession. As regards
its aathor, however, it may be said without hesitation that Melanchthon here under-
took — and was required to undertake— a task to which his gifts and his character
were not equal.

* It is very instructive here to place together the testimonies of two men who were
as diBerent as possible, but who, in their estimate of the Reformation, as regards its
relation to the past and its relation to the present, are entirely at one. Neander writes

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION.

With a view to the delineation of our subject, the duty arises
of describing more precisely the threefold issue of the history of
dogma briefly sketched here. But just because they are issues,
what is required of us is no longer an exhaustive statement : for
in the issues of a thing it is no longer the thing itself that is the
moving force — otherwise it would not take issue — but new
factors intervene and come to occupy its place. For our pur-
pose, therefore, it must be enough that we describe briefly the
dogmatic development of the Romish Church till the time of the
Vatican Decrees, without entering more minutely into political
plans and complications, which must be left to Church history
and the history of creeds ; that, further, we bring under notice the

(in his Account of the part ta.ken by him in the^ Evangel. Kirchenzeitung, 1S30,
p. 20): '--The spirit of the RtformaiUn. . . . did not attain quile at Ike begiiming to
clear sitf-cimsciousness. So it happened that in an unobserved way many errors
passed over from the old Caoon Law into Ihe new Church practice. To Ihis there
was added, on the part of a number of the Calvinistic theologians, a mingling and
confusing of the Old and New Testament points of view. Luther — who on so many
sides towered above the development of his time — seUing out from the principle of
the faith that unfolds itself freely and by its own inner divine force, reached here
also consciousness of pure evangelicalism, but mvt'ng Ib the maaemettts conttecled
■mith the Etaharist cenlrsversies, attd daring the Peasants' IVar, that pure censnous-
ness became chntded again." The same scholarly and truthful man confessed publicly
more than once thai, althoQgh he claimed personally to hold the full evangelical
faith, he could by no means entirely identify himself with the Augsburg Confession,
and, though with all modesty, yet he clearly indicated that that can be no longer
done by any Christian of the nineteenth century who has learned from history. To
the same effect Ritschl asserts (Gesch. des Pietismus I., p. 80 ff., 93 ff. ; II., p. 60 f.,
88 (.): "The Lutheran view of life did not continue to run in an open channel, but
was hemmed in and obstructed by objective-dogmatic interests, and became less dis-
tinctly visible. Protestantism was not delivered from the mediKvat womb of the
Western Church in its complete power and equipment, as was Athene from the head
of Zeus. The imperfect way in which it took its ethical bearinps, the breaking up of
its comprehensive view of things into a set of separate dogmas, its preponderating
CKpression of what it possessed in rigidly complete form, are defects which scxin
made Protestantism appear at a disadvantage in contract with the wealth nf mediieval
theology and asceticism. . . . The Scholastic form of the pure doctrine is really only
the preliminary, and not the final, mould of Protestantism." That Protestantism, or
Lulherauism, when measured by the Augsburg Confession, no longer possesses a
common pare doctrine is simply a fact, which is not altered hy simply casting a vrff
over it. Of the twenty-one articles of faith in the Augsbiu'g Confession, articles t-5,
7-10, 17, 18, are in reality subjects of controversy even in the circles of those who
still always act "on principle" as if nothing had become changed. In concreto
the particular divergences are not only " tolera.ted " but permitted ; hut no one, to

HISTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. I.

Socinian criticism of dogma ; and that, finally, we come to
understand tlie Reformation in such a way that its distinctive
character, as contrasted with the dogmatic inheritance of the
past, shall become as clear to us as the dogmatic contraction
that was its more immediate issue, and as the main lines of its
further development down to the present day. To give a full
historic narrative down to the time of the Form of Concord and
the Decrees of Dort, and then to break off, I regard as a great
mistake, for by such procedure the prejudice is only strengthened
that the dogmatic formulations of the Churches of the Reforma-
tion in the sixteenth centurj'were their classic expression, while
they can certainly be regarded only as points of transition.'

use Luther's language, will bell the cat and publicly proclaim, and guide the Church
in accordance with, what is unquestiona.bly a fact which can never again be changed.
We do not lind ourselves in " a stale of distress " so far as the public expression of
our faith is concerned, but the untruthfulness, the timidity, and indolence with which
we confront the changes in knowledge — that is the "state of distress." Luther had
hrst to lind the truth, a.nd, when he hs.d found it, he sold all that he had in order to
purchase it for himself and Christendom. He sold Ihe most glorious thing which the
age possessed — the unity of the Catholic Church ; without r^ard to the "weak,"
and at the cost of all his old ideals of heaven and earth, he reduced it lo ruins ; but
bis Epigones are so faint and anxious-minded that they will not even admit to them-
.■ielves any new thing they have learned, and are in danger of selling themselves to a
tradition of yesterday, or, after flinging away all evangelical perceptions, of retiring
upon Greek dogma.

' Why I do not include the hiatorj' of old Protestant doctrine in the history of
dc^ma may be gathered from Paulsen, Gesch. des geiehrten Unterrichts, 2nd cd..
Vol. L (1896), pp. 432-450. Add to this that the history of old Protestant doctrine
is the German after-bloom of the essentially Romanic Scholaslidsm. What is of
vaJue in it consists in some great fundamental perceptions, which, however, can he
better studied at the fountain-head — that is, in the Reformers. The rest is without
worlh, is even without historical interest of a higher kind, and, in spile of the
authority which princes, professors, and consistories have given, and still give, to it,
is antiquated, and, as a spiritual force, exhausted. The objection of Dilthey is a
serious one (Atchiv. f. Gesch. d, Philos., Vol. V., Part 3, p. 353 ff.), that Luther's
Chtistianitv is not an issue of the history of dogma because it has the old di^ma, and
above all the doctrines of original sin and satis6.ction as its necessary pre-suppositions.
I make the admission to Dilthey that one has to take his choice. There is much, it
is true, that would justify us in continuing the history of dogma down to the present
day ; but what has run its course in it from the end of the seventeenth century in
Protestantism has certainly no longer a resemblance formally, nor to some ex
materially, to the old history of dt^ma. Now, if we observe that this development in
Proteslantiam is not an apocryphal one, but that it had one of its roots — in my opinion
its strongest root— in the Reformation, we shall certainly have a right, in spile of the

HISTORICAL SITUATION.

Even Seeberg and Loofs break off with the Book of Concord
and the Synod of Dort. In the case of the former, the adoption
of this terminus is certainly intelligible ; one is only surprised not
to find the Confession of Westminster, the most important Con-
fession of the Calvinist Churches at the present day. On the
other hand, it is difficult to understand how Loofs follows the
view of the rejuvenated Lutheranisra, a view of which, never-
theless, he himself disapproves in his closing section (p. 463),
" Whoever looks with favour on the Union thereby acknowledges
that the present must be so connected with the sixteenth cen-

admission that the old dogma was the necessary pre-supposition of the Christianity of
Luther, to regard Luthet as himself repiesenring the issue of the history of dc^ma —
in the same way, let us say, in which Christ must be regarded as the end of the law,
aithoi^h the law was not cancelled, but affirmed by Him. And here a fui ther remark
must be made about the old dc^ma as the " necessary pie- supposition of the Chris-
tianity of Luther." If it is in no sense admitted that the doctrine of original sin, the
doctrine of satisfaction, and the doctrine of the "person and work" of Christ in
general, have a rightful place in the pure, sjuritiiat religion, then certainly the matter
is decided ; one must then say with Dilthey that Luther's doctrine of justification
itself exists only as long as these, its pre-suppositions, exist — that is, they cannot be
united with the piety that thinks. Bui these v^ery pre -suppositions, in my opinion,
admit of a tiealment under which their core is slill preserved, and under which they
still do what they did for Luther's experience of justification, while their mythological
or melaphysico-transcendental form falls away. If that can be proved — the limits of this
problem as regards proof I am fully conscious of— then it is possible to adhere to
Luther's conviction of justification, leather with the objective positions that lie at the
basis of it, without asserting these positions in the inflexible dogmatic form which
they once received. But in that case it is here again made out that Luther represents
an issue of the history of dogma. Dilthey's objection is at bottom the same as that
of Kabel (Neue Kitchl. Zeitschr. 1891, p. 43, etc.) ; Since, according to Luther,
the iodividual experience of fcith is unquestionably dependent on the structure of the
old dogma, he belongs to the history of the old dc^Tna. But, in point of fact,
it depends on a number of imporwnt motives, which found in the old d^^ma an im-
perfect expression. (Something similar had to be noted already in Augustine,
although in a lesser degree.) It will be objected that it is not motives that are in
question, but the reality or unreality of alleged facts. That also is correct ; the ques-
tion then will be, whether to these alleged facts (universal attribution of guilt, 6ehi in
iraptl, sacrificial death of Christ) there does not correspond something real, although
not, certainly, as explained and spun out by the Greeks, Augustine, and Anselm.
Furthermore, in a second series of essays in the Archiv. f. Gesch. d. Philos., Vol.
VL, Patts3, 4(seePreuss. Jahrb., Vol. LXXV., Pail 1, 1894), Dilthey has so firmly
grasped the new religiousness of Luther and the Reformers, and has lifted it so high
above the plane previously reached in history, that it can no longer be difiicult for
him to acknowledge that Luther represents an issue of the history of dc^ma. On
these articles sec below.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. 1.

tury that tlie period of the Epigones is excluded. Now, as the
orthodoxy of the Epigones in the sixteenth century has its root in
this, that the Reformers still retained a number of Old Catholic
presuppositions and dogmas which were not in agreement with
tfieir own fandmnental titoughts, a convinced approval of the
Union must lead one to see that it is the problem for the
present to carry through the fundamental thoughts of the
Reformers in a more thorough-going and all-sided way than was
done, or could be done, in the sixteenth century." Very correct ;
but in that case one has only the choice — either to continue the
history of dogma down to the present day, or to content one's
self with .setting forth the ground -thoughts of tiie Reformation.
But the latter is, in my opinion, what is required, and that not
merely becau.se the giving form to Protestantism has, notwith-
standing the 3S0 years during which it has existed, not yet come
to an end — the Augustinian-Roman Church needed still longer
time — but, above all, because, as Loofs very correctly remarks,
"the Reformers still retained a number of Old Catholic pre-
suppositions and dogmas that were not in agreement with their
fundamental thoughts, and in these the theology of the Epigones
has its roots." Here, therefore, the distinctive character of the
Reformation principle is recognised in this, that, looked at in its
negative significance, it cancelled not only mediaeval doctrines,
but Old Catholic prestippositions and dogmas. But there is no
dogma down to the present day which is not Old Catholic, or
derived from what is Old Catholic. Accordingly t}ie Reformation,
that is, t/ie evangelical conception, faith, cancels dogma, unless
one puts in the place of the real homogeneous dogma some
thought-construction of what dogma might be. But that being
so, it is a bad and dangerous case of connivance when within the
history of dogma the history of the Reformation Churches is only
considered so far as their doctrinal formulations kept within
the lines of the old dogma, or were in complete dependence on it.
The Reformation is the end of dogma in a sense similar to that
in which the gospel is the end of the law. It shook off the law
of faith, not with the view of declaring it to be sin, but as ex-
pressing the thought that it increases sin, an assertion that was
made of the Mosaic Law by Paul. It substituted for the demand

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 3 1

for the act of faith, which answers to the law, the freedom of the
children of God, who are not under the burden of a compulsion
to believe, but have the Joy of a blessing bestowed upon them.
And as the Apostle Paul said with reference to the law, it can
say with reference to dogma, " Do we make void the law of
faitk ? — na>-, we establish it ; " for it knows and teaches that
the believing heart gives itself as a captive to Jesus Christ, and
renders Him obedience.

As the force and violence of the breach with the past was only
imperfectly expressed in the symbolic formulations of Protes-
tantism in the sixteenth century, we .should to-day be witnesses
against ourselves and our Christianity if we were to judge these
formulations finally complete. By this "we" there are to be
understood not only some modern theologians, or the straight-
fonvard adherents of the Evangelical Union — for them that is
self-evident — but not less, nearly all Lutherans. " The general
habit," Loofs is justified in saying, "is to speak of different
Christian confessions : no man of modern orthodoxy is orthodox
in the sense of the period that produced the last symbols, and
almost nowhere is obligation to the symbols conceived of as it
was then." But what a wretched state of things is the result of
this attitude, when there is an unwillingness to admit to one's
self that it is assumed ! One cannot go back ; neither is he
willing to go fonvard : and thus the ruling power is exercised
by the fancies with which the theologians of the Romantic
epoch bridged over abysses and clo.sed up gulfs — is exercised by
ecclesiastical ^stheticism ; is exercised by the fides impHcita of
Nominalism, that is, byecclesiasticism and anxiety about schism.
Each one regards the fancy of the other as false ; but it is
reckoned to him for righteousness if he has closed up the gulf
at all, no matter by what deceptive means it is done. In view
of this, the history of dogma would find rest for itself were it to
propagate the old prejudice that Protestantism stands to-day
beside the Form of Concord and the Synod of Dort. Even if
what we to-day discern, possess and assert — not in spite of our
Christianity, but on the ground of it— the purity of faith as faith
in the Father of Jesus Christ, the strict discipline of Christian
knowledge, moderation in judging diverging Christian convic-

32 HISTORY OK DOGMA. [CHAP. I.

tions, entire freedom of historic investigation of Scripture, with
a hundred other good things — even if these things could not be
successfully derived by us from the Reformation itself — ^nothing
else would remain for us but to testify that the Reformation was
not the final thing, and that in the course of history we have
passed through new purifications and received new good things
as gifts. As evangelical Christians we are not bound to the
Reformation, still less to the "entire Luther " and the "entire
Calvin," to whom some, in melancholy despair of the clearness
of the gospel and of their own freedom, in all seriousness point
us, but to the gospel of Jesus Christ. But we do not depart
from the plain testimony of history when we rediscover in the
Christianity of Luther and in the initial positions of the Refor-
mation that to which Protestantism has at the present day, in
weakness and under restriction, developed itself, and when we
hold also that Luther's conception of faith is still to-day the
moving spirit of Protestantism, whether there be many
or few who have made it their own. Just on that account
the steps are to be warmly welcomed towards finding suc-
cessors to the faith formulae of the Epigones of the Refor-
mation period in Confessions that do not require to be
submitted to under great distress and to be laboriously main-
tained, but that can be adhered to with truthfulness as the
evangelical faith. Failure, no doubt, followed the genuinely
evangelical attempt in the year 1846 to introduce a new con-
fession : the Union was too weak to be able to do more than
proclaim itself; it appeared to collapse at thu moment when it
was to confess what it really was. But the problem has
remained unforgotten, and attention has recently been again
directed to it in a very impressive way by an evangelical theo-
It^ian, who describes himself as orthodox and pietistic. We
do not need to di.spute about terras ; he makes the demand for
a new " dogma " (Christliche Welt, 1889, Oct. and Nov.). He
means a new Confession of evangelical faith, emancipated from
dogma. But while among us, owing to a most melancholy
blindedness, such a demand is at once regarded as in itself
suspicious, and is met with scorn and the frivolous cry, " Beati
possidentes," things begin to stir among our brethren across the

CHAP. I.] HISTORICAL SITUATION. 33

Atlantic. Before me there lie a number of notices from the
ranlis of the earnest Calvinists there, contemplating a revision of
the Westminster Confession (the chief symbol), that is, a correc-
tion of it in many points that were held in the seventeenth cen-
tury to be the most important. At the head of this movement
stands Professor Schaff(see his article, "The Revision of the
Westminster Confession : A paper read before a special meeting,
Nov. 4th, 1889, of the Presbytery of New York.") If any name,
that of Schaff is a guarantee that nothing will be undertaken
here that will not be carried through, and carried through, too,
in the most prudent and gratifying way. [I allow these lines to
stand, though his Church has been deprived of Schaff.] Schaff,
and very many along with him, wish an alteration, or possibly
an elimination, of Confess. C. III. 3, 4, 6, 7; VI. i ; X. 3, 4;
XXV. 6; XXIV. 3. But they desire still more. The followii^
noteworthy words are employed (p. 10)1 — ". ... Or if this can-
not be done without mutilating the document, then, in humble
reliance upon the Holy Ghost, who is ever guiding the Church,
let us take the more radical step, with or through the Pan-
Presbyterian Council, of preparing a brief, simple, and popular
creed, which shall clearly and tersely express for laymen as well
as ministers only the cardinal doctrine of faith and duty, leaving
metaphysics and polemics to scientific theology; a creed that
can be subscribed, taught, and preached ex animo, without any
mental reservation, or any unnatural explanation; a creed that
is full of the marrow of the gospel of God's infinite love in Christ
for the salvation of the world. Such a consensus-creed would
be a bond of union between the different branches of the
Reformed Church in Europe and America and in distant mission
fields, and prepare the way for a wider union with other evan-
gelical Churches. ... In conclusion, I am in favour of both a
revision of the Westminster Confession by the General Assembly
and an cecumenical Reformed Consensus to be prepared by the
Pan -Presbyterian Council. If we cannot have both, let us at
least have one of the two, and I shall be satisfied with either."
To this height of freedom have those risen whom Lutherans are
fond of speaking of as "legalistic" Calvinists! What would
be said among us if a man of honour were to demand a revision

34 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP- I.

of the Augsburg Confession ? Of course the Calvinistic Churches
of America possess something we do not possess — a freely
organised Church, which gives laws to itself, and — courage!
So we shall perhaps follow some day, if the Evangelicals in
America go before with the torch.

One thing at any rate is made apparent by these steps of
progress, though it is clear already from the principle of the
Reformation — namely, that the Confessional definitions in Pro-
testantism are not regarded as infallible. There is, it is true, an
eager search in Lutheranism for an intermediate notion between
reformable and infallible ; but, 90 far as I see, no one as yet has
been able to discover it. The old dogma, however, gave itself
out as infallible ; nay, it was only dogma so far as it advanced
this claim. The formulations of Protestantism in the sixteenth
century are not dogmas in this sense.

CHAPTER II.

THE ISSUES OF DOGMA IN ROMAN CATHOLICISM.

(i) The Codification of the MeduBval Doctrines in opposition
to Protestantism {Decrees of Trent).

A CODIFICATION of its doctrines was forced upon the Catholic
Church by the Reformation. For long the effort was made in
Rome to add to the condemnation of the Lutheran tenets a
positive statement of Romish doctrine, or even to secure that
addition through a Council. From the strictly Curialistic stand-
point both the one thing and the other seemed as unnecessary
as it was dangerous. That princes and peoples should have
imperatively demanded both, and that a Council should really
have come to be held, which, apart from its decrees for reform,
that necessarily resulted in a considerable irhprovement in the
state of the Church, gave fixed form to hitherto undefined
doctrines, was a triumph of Protestantism. As it was under-
stood by the princes, this Council was finally to solve a problem
that had been previously dealt with, not without a real mutual
approximation, at religious conferences, and which, for the time,
appeared to have found a solution in the imperial Interim.
But in point of fact the Curia brought it about that at Trent
the opposition to Protestantism found its keenest expression.
In this way the Curia rendered Protestantism very important
service ; for what would have become of the Reformation after
Luther's death — at least in Germany — -if there had been a
greater inclination to come to terms at Trent?

In framing the Decrees of Trent the best forces co-operated
which the Church then had at its command. True piety and
pre-eminent scholarship took part in the discussions. The
renovated Thomism, made stronger in Italy by the Reforma-
3S

[IISTORY OF DOGMA^

[chap, IIj

tion itself, already held at the Council a place of equality with
every other party. From Humanism and the Reformation the
medieval spirit of the Church had derived power, had strength-
ened and steeled itself for the conflict. This spirit, in union
with the Curia, really governed the Council by which a regen-
eration of the old Church was effected. This regeneration
comes to view within the dogmatic sphere in the breach with
the sceptical, critical elements of Scholasticism, and in the
confidence thereby obtained in doctrine and theology} Not-
withstanding what had happened before at the Council of
Florence, it was unquestionably an immense undertaking to
shape out ecclesiastical dogmas with a firm hand from the
almost unlimited material which Scholasticism and Mysticism
had provided, and to do so after a long period of silence ex-
tending over centuries. Such a task would never have been
thought of, and still less could it have been carried out, had not
the Reformation gone before with its Augsburg Confession.
The opposition to the Reformation, by which all schools repre-
sented at the Council, otherwise so different in character, were
bound together, determined both the selection of the dogmas to
be defined and their formulation. At many points we can still
see that at Trent the Augsburg Confession was followed ; in all
tlie Decrees the opposition to the evangelical doctrine was the
guiding motive, Tke dogmatic Decrees of Trent are the shadow
of the Reformation. That it was given to Calfiolicism to under-
stand itself, to give expression ta its distinctive dogmatic character,
and thereby to rescue itself from the uncertainties of the Middle
Ages, was a debt it owed to the Reformation.^

' In dogmatic and ethical Probabilism, it is Inie, Ihe Nominalislio scepticism
retuioed, in a form very convenient for the Church.

*Loofe (DoRraengesch, p. 333 f.) is right in enumerating the foUowing conditions
and tendencies in Catholicism as presuppositions of Tridentinism : (1) The re-
organisation in strict mediieval spirit of the Spanish Chnrch by the crown under
Fe[dina.nd and Isabella ; (z) the restoration of Thomism (especially in the
Dominican Order) ; (3) the zealous fostering (Mystic) of Catholic piety, especialiyin
some new Orders and congregations for Reform ; (4) the Humanistic efforts for
Reform and the ennobling of theology dae to Humanism (there were even
Humanists who wished to return to Augustine) ; (5) the strengthening of the papacy
and the reappearance of Curialisni ftom the middle of the fifteenth ccntuty i (6) the
ecclesiastical interest of the secular sovereigns.

CHAP. II.] COEIFICATION OF MEDIEVAL DOCTRINES, 37

Yet Roman Catholicism was stili not able to give /a// expres-
sion to itself in the Decrees of Trent. This must become
apparent to everyone who compares the Decrees with the
present-day condition and the present-day aims of the Church,
and who thoroughly studies the Acts of the Council with the
view of seeing what the strict Curialistic party wished even then
to reach and did not yet reach. Not merely did the strain
between Episcopalism and Papalism remain unrelieved — a
cardinal ecclesiastical question for Roman Catholicism, indeed
the decisive question — but to the recently strengthened Augus-
tinian-Thomistic School also much greater scope had to be
allowed within dogmatics than was permitted by a Church
system based on the outward sacrament, on obedience, on
merit, and on religion of the second order. The regard to the
Augustinian-Thontiist School is to be explained on different
grounds. First of all, if there was a wish publicly tc define
dogmas like those of original sin, sin, election, and justification,
the authority of Augustine could not be altogether passed by,
even though at the time there was not a single voice raised on
his behalf; secondly, the most capable bishops and theologians,
men of true piety, were to be seen among the ranks of the
Thomists ; finally, the fact could not be concealed that a need
for reform, in opposition to the ecclesiastical mechanicalism,
really existed in the widest circles, and that it could be met
only by entering into the Augustinian thoughts. So it came
about that the Roman Church in the sixteenth century derived
more from Augustine to introduce into its dogma than we
should be entitled to expect from the history through which it
passed in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. But the way
in which it adopted Augustinianism at Trent was not without
an element of untruthfulness. No doubt we ought not to
reproach the Fathers of the Council if they laboriously turned
and polished the separate Decrees and made constant correc-
tions ; so long as dogmas are not proclaimed by prophets, but
constructed by the members of a synod, it will be impossible to
invent any other method than that by which the work was
carried on at Trent. But the untruthfulness here lies in this,
that one of the parties — and it was the party whose influence

38 HISTORY OK DOGMA. [CHAP. II,

was finally determinative — had no wish whatever for Augustini-
anism, that it sought rather to establish as dogma the use and
wont of the Roman Church, which was compatible only with
Semi-Pelagian doctrine and sacramental mechanicalism. And
yet this does not include all that must be said. The untruth-
fulness lies still deeper. The ruling party, in league with
Rome, and under direction from Rome, had no wish whatever
for definitions, for it knew very well that its fundamental
dogmatic principles, as they came to view in its practice, did
not admit at all of being framed, and dared not at all be framed.
It had accordingly, throughout the whole Council, the one end
only in view — io emerge from (he purgatory of the Council as far
as possible unchanged, (hat is, having with it all its customs, prac-
tices, pretensions, and sins. In the formulation of the Tridentine
dogmas this aim was reached by it, though it might be only
indefinitely. Just on that account these dogmas are in part
untrue and misleading,^ although a keen eye perceives even
here what scope was left to " Probabilism," that deadly enemy
of all religious and moral conviction. But it gained its end
completely when it followed up the Decrees with the Professio
Tridentina, and, at the same time, had it established that to the
Pope alone the right is to be attributed to expound the Decrees,
Thus it gathered figs of thorns and grapes of thistles ; for it
now needed to fear no single turn in the Decrees, and, on the
other hand, it enjoyed the advantage which so imposing a
manifesto of the whole Church against Protestantism necessarily
secured.

How the Curia carried on its work at Trent we know, since
we received the bitter account of Paolo Sarpi. Just for that
reason we must include the Tridentinum within the history of
the issues of dogma ; for a stronger power than the interest of
faith, or the interest of pure doctrine, presided over the efforts
of the Council, and directed them in its own spirit — the interest,
' Even the self-designation of the Synod \i equivocal : " Hrec sacrosancta,
lECumenica et geneialis Tiidentina Synodus in spiiitu sancto legitime congregata, in
ea pKesidentibus (eisdem) tribus apostolicie sedis legalis" ; compare also the famous
and frequently repeated addition ; " salva semper in omnibus sedis apostolicie
auctoritate," As is well known, there was also obstinate discussion as to whethM
there was to be given to the Council the liile: " univeisalem ecclesiom reprwsenlans,"

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDLEVAL DOCTRINES. 39

viz., of the Roman Church to assert itself as the unreformabie
institution that exercises rule and grants salvation. And if it
is undeniable that at Trent, and in the Decrees of the Council,
a devout faith also expressed itself, which knew no higher
power above itself, yet it passed out of view in the general
result. Through his prerogative to be the sole exponent of the
Decrees, the Pope really made the whole dogmatic work at
Trent uncertain and illusory, and the succeeding centuries
proved distinctly enough that one would embrace the gravest
errors regarding the practical and dogmatic interests of the
Roman Church were he to think of forming a view of the faith
of the Roman Church on the basis of the Tridentine Decrees
alone (taken as they sound). Indeed, he would only discover
here somewhat vaguely what at the present day is the real
endeavour of the Roman Church in the region of dogma and
was visible at Trent only behind the scenes — namely, to trans-
form dogma into a dogmatic policy, to declare all traditions as
they sound to be sacrosanct, while admitting, however, at every
point conflicting probable opinions, and to debar the laity from
faith and dogma, in order to accustom them to a religion of the
second order — ^to the Sacraments, the saints, the amulets, and
an idolatrous worship of the members of Christ's body.

Under such circumstances there only remains an interest of
a secondary kind in considering in detail the Decrees as they
sound. If we have once made clear to ourselves the contradic-
tory aims that were to be united in them, and feel certain that
it is really a matter of indifference whether a Decree has more
of an Augustinian ring or not, general history can only in a
meagre way take to do with these laboriously refined and
elaborated works of art. In the sequel, therefore, we shall
restrict ourselves to what is most important.^

' Authorised edition of the Decrees, 1564 {ceptoduced in Strcilwolf und Klener,
Libr. eymb. eccl. cath., I., 1846). The Masarellian Acta, edited by Theiner (Acta
gcnoina. Aeram, 1B74, 2 vols.); numerous reports, etc., relating to the Council
published by Le Plat (1781 ff.), Sickel (iSjo ff.), DBlHuger (1876 ff.), v. Draffe]
(1884 f.), Pallavicini, (1656), Salig (1741 f.). Illualrationsby Raoke (Romische
Pipste I., Deutsche Reformation V. ), Pastor {1879). An introduction to the Council
form-s Bd. I. d. gesch. d. Kathol. Ref. by Mauienbtecher (iSSo). The same author
afterwards began an exhaustive account in the " Histor. Taschenbucb," l8S5, 1888,

40 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

The Synod, assembled to deliberate on " the extirpation of
heresies and reform of morals " fde exstirpandis ha^resibus* et
moribus reformandisj, begins, at the third session, with re-
affirming the Constantinopolitan Symbol, including the " 61io-
qae " ; this Symbol, moreover, ts introduced with the words
"symbolum fidei, quo sancta R omana ecclesi^ utitur" (" Con-
fession of faith which the holy Roman Church uses"). It then,
at the fourth session, at once took up the question as to the
sources of knowledge and the authorities for truth. For the
first time in the Church it happened that this question was
dealt with at a Council, Everything that had, from the days of
the struggle against Gnosticism, been either established or
asserted with some uncertainty in the consuetudinary law of
the Church still needed final determination. All the more im-
portant is the Decree. In its making the main point of the
whole decision lie in preserving the " purity of the gospel "
(puritas evangelii), it gives positive evidence of the influence
of the Reformation ; but in its declaring the Apocrypha of the
Old Testament canonical, in its placing tradition alongside
Scripture as a second source of information, in its proclaiming
the Vulgate to be authoritative, and in its assigning to the
Church alone the right to expound Scripture, it defines most
sharply the opposition to Protestantism.^

As regards the first point, the Reformation, by its re-adoption
of the Hebrew canon, had given expression to its general postu-
late, that there should be a going back everywhere to the
ultimate and surest sources. In opposition to this the Triden-

but it was not given to him to cany it further. TJie chief Protestant work a|piinsl
llie Ttidentinuin from tie dogmatic point of view is Chemniti, exam. cone. Trid.
1565 f, (extracts in German by Benedixen, 1884), ef. Kollnei, Symbolik d. roro.-
katb. KJrche, 1844. On the question of the primacy in the Trid. see Griiar in the
Zcitschr. r. KathoJ. Theol., 1S84, The number of investiEalions of points of detail
is very great, and these have not yet been utilised for a new, comprehensive account,
because there is still always new material to be expected, especially from the Vatican,
but also from the archives of the States.

"Or, "de confirmandis dogmatibus," See III. I fin.

»The Lutheran Refornia!ion,besides, had not already expressed itself confession ally
on the sources of knowledge and authorities, and, as is well known, did not even

CHAP, ir.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI/EVAL DOCTRINES. 4I

tinum sanctioned the current traditional view.' Yet the act of
fixing was in itself of the greatest importance; strictly speaking,
indeed, it was only through it that a point of rest was attained
in the history of the canon within the Roman Church. Even
at that time there were still Bible manuscripts belonging to the
Church that contained 4th Book of Esra, Hermas, the Epistle
to the Laodiceans, etc. This uncertain state of things was now
finally terminated.^

As regards the second point, the important words run as
follows : — " That truth and discipline are contained in the
books of Scripture and in unwritten traditions which, having
been received from Christ's own lips by the Apostles, or
transmitted as it were manually by the Apostles themselves,
under the dictation of the Holy Spirit, have come down even
to us " * (or, " and also receives with an equal feeling of piety
and reverence the traditions relating sometimes to faith, and
sometimes to morals, as dictated either orally by Christ or by
the Holy Spirit, and preserved in continuous succession within
the Catholic Church ").*

The entire co-ordination of Scripture and tradition was in
many respects a novum (especially as regards discipline). A
usage was here sanctioned — ^no doubt to meet the Protestant
criticism, which could not be repelled from Scripture alone—

' It is also nolewoilhy, that in the eiiumeralion of the New Testament books, llie
Epistle to the Hebrews is counled in as the fourteenth Pauline epistle without remark.

s The Tridentine Decree gaei back even at this place lo the Bulls of EuEcnc IV.,
which in general were among the most impoitant parts of the mateiial for the
decisions of the Council. In the Bull pro Jacobitis " Cantate Domino " the most of
the Apociyphal Books are already without distinction placed in a series with the
Canonical Books, while ihe Epistle to the Hebrews is described as an Epistle of
Paul. This reckoning follows the Canon of Innocent I. (Ep. 6 ad Exsuperintn
Tolo&anum c 7). In approving this the Tridentinum originated the contradiction of
on the one hand recognising the Alexandrian Canon of the Bible, and on the other
hand following the Vulgate, while Jerome rejected the Apocrypha, or at least treated
il qnile freely ; see Credner, Gesc-h. des Kanons, p. 300 f,, 320 ff.

' " Veritatem et disciplinam continert in libiis sctiptis et sine scripto tiaditionibui,
qus ah ipsius Cbristi ore ab apostolis acceptEC aut ab ipsis apostolis, spiritu sancto
dictante, quasi per nianus tiadita: ad nos usque pervenerunt."

* "Nee non Iradiliones ipsas turn ad jidem turn ad mores pertinentes Camqmun vel
orelcnus a Cbristo vel a spiritu s. diclatas et conlinua suecessione in ecclesia catholica
IS pari pietalis atfeclu ac rcverentia suscipit."

42 HISTOKV OF DOGMA, [CHAP.

that had as yet by no means been fully established in the
Middle Ages, a,s was made clearly apparent at the deliberations
connected with the framing of the Decree. Voices were raised
demanding that priority should be given to Scripture ; but
they failed to assert themselves. The defining tradition more
precisely as traditio Christi and' traditio apostolorum (spiritu
sancto dictante), without, however, indicating in any way what
the two traditions embraced, and how they were distinguished,
was a master-stroke of dogmatic policy, which clearly shows
that the object in view was not to furnish a strong basis for that
which constitutes Christianity. But the fact is extremely note-
worthy that there is entire silence maintained here as to the
authority of the Church and of the Pope. In this the untruth-
fulness of the Decree reveals itself; for the ultimate concern of
the Curia was to see that its arbitrary decisions were regarded
as sources of knowledge and authorities on truth.' It was able
to attain that by the help of this quite indefinite Decree ; but at
that time it was unable as yet to give direct expression to
it ; hence there was silence maintained with regard to the Pope
and the Church.

The proclaiming of the Vulgate ("that it shall be held as
authoritative in public reading, disputation, preaching, and ex-
position, and that no one shall dare or presume to reject it on
any pretext whatever"^) was a violent measure, which could
not be justified even by the law of custom, and was, besides,
directly counter to the age in which one lived.* The same thing
is to be said of the requirement, that everyone shall be obliged
to adhere to the sense of Holy Scripture to which the Holy
Mother-Church adheres (" to whom it belongs to judge of the
true sense and interpretation of the Holy Scriptures"^), and

' Repeatedly at the Council speeches were delivered— especial iy by Jesuits, but also
by others— the sum anti substance of which was, that as the Chuich could never ert
in faith, its theory and practice were correct in all paiticulais (the Church, however, is
Rome). But as there was not frankness enough to proclaim this position publicly, it
did not come clearly to view in the decisions.

* " Ut in publicis lectionibus, disputationibuE, pr^edicatlonibus el exposition] bus pro
nuthentica habeatur, et ut nemoillara rejicere quovis prietextu audeat vel prffianmat."

'"Herethe Church for ever broke with its own past, and with all that comes
under the name of science." Credner, I.e., p. 314.

*"Cujui est judicare de vero sensu et interpretation e scriptiirarum sacrarum,"

P. II.

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI.-EVAL DOCTRINES.

that no one shall dare to set himself up against the " unanimis
consensus patrum." This requirement, it is true, was not in
itself new ; but it was new that the whole Church should abolish
all historico-exegetical investigation of the foundations of re-
ligion.^ The way in which, in the sequel, the use of Scripture
generally is subjected to reservations, is also unprecedented ;
the decision, moreover, that the Church alone possesses the
right to expound Scripture is ambiguous when there is nothing
said as to who the Church is. Here also there was not yet
courage enough to represent that the Pope was the Church.^

At Sessions V. and VI, the Synod then dealt with original
sin and justification. This order was due simply to the opposi-
tion to Protestantism, and gives to the two Decrees an im-
portance which does not really belong to them. A better
course, therefore, is to consider the following Decrees first
(Sessions VII.-XXV.) ; for in them (Sacraments VII., XIII.,
XIV., XXI., XXm., XXIV.; Mass XXII. ; purgatory, saints,
images, indulgences XXV.) the determining interests of
Catholicism found expression, and there was here no need
to give one's self anxiety.

That there was the wish to affirm of the Church that it was
the Sacrament-Church is apparent from the proposition which
is found in the prologue to the Decree of Session VII., and
which fills the place of a whole dogmatic chapter ; " by means
of the Sacraments all true righteousness either begins, or,
having been begun, is increased, or, having been lost, is restored "
("per sacramenta omnis vera justitia vel incipit vel ccepta
augetur vel amissa reparatur"). Not a word is said as to how
the Sacraments have that power, as to what relation they have
to the Word and promises of God, and as to how they are
related to faith. This silence is the thing of most significance ;
for it shows that just the Sacrament itself as externally applied
is to be regarded as the means of salvatioa Accordingly,
without any determination of what the Sacrament in genere is,

'"Cerlsmly in this way Scripture becomes consec rated, but it is reduced to a
ninminy, which can no longer develop any kind of life." Cietner, I.e.
' " See tin the whole Tridenline Decree Holtzraann, Kanon und Tradition, p. 24 ff.
J. Delitisch, Das Leh rays tern der Kiimischcn Kirche I., p. 295 ff.,3s8ff,., 385.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

■ attempt.

I divine et

[chap. II.

there is a passing on at once to thirteen anathematisms, it
being previously certified merely that all that follows is derived
from the teaching of Holy Scripture, from the apostolic tradi-
tions, the Councils, and the consensus patrum. Consequently the
thirteen anathematisms contain a continuous series of defini-
tions, in which the most recent use and wont in the Church, as ■
defined by the Schoolmen, is raised to the level of dogma,
while all historic memories pointing in an opposite direction —
whose testimony was certainly audible enough — were sup-
pressed. These dogmas form-ulated in the thirteen anathematisms \
are really the protest against Protestantism.

Canon i raises to the position of dogma the doctrine that I
there are seven Sacraments — no more and no less — and that all \
the seven were instituted by Christ} Canon 4 rejects the doctrine |
that man can be justified before God without the Sacraments (o:
without a vow to receive the Sacraments [votum sacramenti])
by faith alone (per solam fidem). Canon 5 pronounces anathema
on those who teach that the Sacraments are instituted for the
sake of only nourishing faith (propter solam fidem nutriendam),
and thus severs the exclusive connection of faith and Sacrament.
Canon 6 formulates the Scholastic doctrine of the efficacy of
the Sacraments ex opere operato (without, however, applying
this expression here), and thereby excludes more decisively the
necessity of faith, a mysterious power being attributed to the
Sacraments.^ Canon 7 defines this efficacy of the Sacraments
still more exactly, asserting that where they are received in due

1 Here, no doubt, the question cao still always aj'ise, whether He instituted them
all " immediate" ; but in view of the literal tenns of the Decree that would be a cose
of sophistiy.

" "Si quis dixerit, sacramenta novas legis non continere Eratiam, quam significant
(see above, the Scholastic controversy. Vol. VI,, p. zo6f.), aut giatiam ipbam non
ponentibus obicem (see above, Vol. VI., p. 213 f.) non confene, quasi signs
tanCum externa sinl accepts per fidem gratife vel jusliti:e et notte quxdam Christians:
professionis, quibus apud homines discernuntur fideles ab infidelibus, anathema sit,"
It is characteristic Chat (he Canon does not assume a third possibility between the
Sacraments as vehicles and the Sacraments as signs. Such a possibility, too, is hard
enough to conceive of, as is proved by the Lutheran doctrine, which makes the
The Scotist doctrines with regard to the concomitance of the gracious
ects and the rite are not expressly controverted by the Tridenlinum ; hut the
jiloyed are unfavourable to them.

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDIAEVAL DOCTRINES.

form (rite), they communicate grace from God's side (ex parte
dei) always, and to all receivers too. Canon 8 concludes this
survey with the words : " if anyone shall say that grace Is not
conveyed ex opere operato by the Sacraments of the New Law,
but that faitk alone in the divine promise is sufficient for obtaining
grace, let him be anathema.'" The 9th Canon raises to a
dogma the doctrine of " character " (baptism, confirmation, and
consecration to the priesthood), but is cautious in not defining
this "character in anima" more exactly than as "a certain
spiritual and indelible sign " {" signum quoddam spirituale et
indelibile ").^ The 10th Canon pronounces anathema on those
who assert that all Christians have the power to preach the
Word and administer the Sacraments, and thus directs itself
gainst the universal priesthood. The iith Canon raises to a
dogma the doctrine of the intentio of the priest (" intention of
at least doing what the Church does"^), without which the
Sacraments are not Sacraments. Lastly, the 1 3th Canon gives
fixity to all unratified customs of the Church connected
with the celebration of the Sacraments, it being declared ; " If
anyone shall say that the received and approved customs of
the Catholic Church, which are usually applied in the solemn
administration of the Sacraments, may either be despised or
omitted by ministers as they please without sin, or changed into
other new ones by any pastor of the Churches, let him be
anathema." *

As in all these statements the Council adopted only negative
definitions, it succeeded in the happiest way in steering clear of
all the reefs in Scholastic discussion of the Sacraments. Even in

' "Si quia dixeril, per ipsa nov^ legis sacramenla ex opere operato nun conferri
gratiam, sed solam (idem divinie promissionia ad gratiam conscquendani aufficcre,

"Compare Cat. Roman. II., 1 Q. 19, where, however, little more is said than that
the character " veluti insjgne quoddam anima: impressum eat, quod deleri numquam
potest . . . et prteslat, turn ut apti ad aliquid sacri suscipiendum vel peragenduni
i;fillciamur, turn ul aliqua nola alter ab altero intemoscatur. "

> "Intentio saltern faciendi quod facit ecclesis."

* " Si quis dixerit, receptos et approbatos ecclesias catholiise ritus in solemni sacra-
meDlorum admin is tratione adhibeii consnetoE aut contenini aut sine peccato am"
pro libito omitti, aut in novos alios per qnemcunque ecclesiarum pastorem m

l»ss

46 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CIIAP. 11

the selection of what is negatively defined — how much would
still remain to be defined — there is apparent an admirable skill.
Generally speaking, what is here marked out is really the basis
common to all the Schoolnnen. Hence, when the definitions
are translated into a positive form, they come closest to |
Thomism, while at the same time they do not exclude the ,
Scotist po.sitions.

There now follow the Decrees on the Sacraments singly.
Here the decretum pro Armenis in the Bull of Eugene IV.,
■' Exultate deo," ' had so prepared the way with its short and yet
comprehensive definitions that the dogmatic determination
offered no great difficulty to the Fathers. The character of ]
the definitions of particulars is akin to that of the general
definitions ; the most extreme, and therefore disputed. Scholastic
theses of the Schools are trimmed down in the interest of unity
of faith ; and thus a type is produced, which comes very close
to the Thomistic, and yet does not make it impossible for
the doctrines to be re-shaped in harmony with dogmatic
Probabilism.

Among the propositions relating to Baptism (Session VII.)
the 3rd Canon (in introducing which no connection is indicated)
is the most important, because by implication it makes all the
rest unnecessary : " if anyone shall say that in the Church of
Rome, which is the mother and mistress of all churches, there
is not the true doctrine concerning the Sacrament of Baptism,
let him be anathema."^ The gth and 10th Canons restrict the
importance of baptism, in opposition to the evangelical view ;
the loth is especially instructive from its putting together re-
membrance and faith (recordatio and fides) in a way that depre-
ciates faith, as well as from its limiting the efiTect of baptismal
grace to former sins.^ As regards Confirmation, the history
of the development of this observance is now finally expunged
— history, that is to say, is transcended by dogma (Can. i) ;

1 See Deniinger, Enchiridion, 5th ed., p. 172 f.

» "Siquisdwerit, ineccleaia Rainana,qiisoniQiutnet:clesiarutn mater esl et niaf^stni,
Don esse venm de bapLismi sacramenLo docLnnam, anathema sit."

* "Si quis dixerit, peccata omnia, quEe post baptismam Gunt, sola rscordalions ct
Jide suscepH iafitiimi vel dimilii vcl veiu^ia fieri, anathema sit."

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDIEVAL DOCTRINES. 47

moreover, it is henceforth an article oi faith, that the bishop
alone is the minister ordinarius of this Sacrament (Can. 5).

In dealing with the Eucharist (Session XIII.) the Council
was not satisfied with Canons, but rose to a Decree. But this
Decree, if one glances over the Scholastic questions of dispute,
is certainly seen to be pretty vague. It is likewise known that
there was here a coming together of opposing theological parties.
In de6ance of history it is asserted (c. i) that it has always
been unanimously confessed by all the Fathers that the God-
man is present " truly, really, and substantially in this Sacra-
ment under the form of things sensible." ^ In spite of imposing
language about it, the effect of the Sacrament is really restricted
to deliverance from daily (venial) sins and protection against
mortal sins (c. 2). Then it is said (cap. 3), the old definition
of the Sacrament in its entirety being adopted : "it is indeed
common to the most holy Eucharist with the other Sacraments
that it is the symbol of a sacred thing and the visible form of
invisible grace ; but there is this point of pre-eminence and
distinctiveness found in it,^ that the other Sacraments only have
power to sanctify when someone uses them, while in the
Eucharist the Sacrament is itself the author of sanctity previous
to the use."" It had always (it was asserted) been the Catholic
faith that the God-man is present immediately after consecra-
tion, and wholly present, too, under both forms, in His Godhead,
body and soul ; a more precise definition of this is then given—
again as describing the faith that had always prevailed in the
Church: "that by the consecration of bread and wine a con-
version takes place of the entire substance of the bread into the
substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the entire
substance of the wine into the substance of His blood. Which
conversion is fittingly and properly designated by the holy

1 "Vere, realitet et subs lantiali let sub specie rerum sensibilium in
>Cf. Cat. Rom. II., c. 4, Q. 39: the Eucharist is the fons of all Sacraments, which
flow from it like brooks.

'"Commune hoc qnideni est sanctissimiE eucbarislice cum ceteris sacramentis
symbnium esse rei sacne et invisibilis graliie foimam visibilem \ verum illud in ea
encellens et singulariter reperitur, quod reliqua sacramenta tunc primum sanclificnnrli
vim habent, cum quis utitur, at in eucharistia ipse sanctitalis auctar ante usum est."

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

Catholic Church transubstantiation." ' Hence there is required
for the Sacrament (c. 5) the worship of adoration (cultus latria)
(including the festival of Corpus Christi), and the self-communi-
cating of the priests is described as traditio apostolica (c. 8).
The appended anathematisms are nearly all directed against
Protestantism. Anyone is condemned who does not recognise
the whole Christ corporeally in the Sacrament, who believes
that the substance of the elements remains after the consecration,
who denies that the whole Christ is in every part of each ele-
ment, who regards the Sacrament as being Sacrament only '
use" ("in usu "), but not also before or after use ("ante vel
post usum "), who rejects worship of the Host and the Corpus
Christi festival, etc. But the worst Canons are 5 and 11; for
the former condemns those who hold that the forgiveness of
sins is the principal fruit of the Eucharist, and the latter runs:
" if anyone shall say that faith alone is sufficient preparation
for taking the Sacrament of the most holy Eucharist, let him
be accursed."* Many demanded that lay-communion also
sub utraque (under both forms) should be simply condemned,
and a Decree to that effect was really imminent. But under
the pressure of the princes and of public opinion the question
was for a time delayed, and thereafter, there being influences at
the Council itself that strongly asserted themselves in favour
of granting the cup to the laity, it was decided — but only half-
decided — by a Decree (Ses.sion XXI.) that betrays only too
plainly the embarrassment felt. The granting of the cup to the
laity was not forbidden — indeed the admission was found neces-
sary here that " from the beginnintj of the Christian religion the
use of both forms had not been infrequent," ^ but an anathema
was pronounced on everyone who should demand the cup ex
del prsecepto (as commanded by God), or who was not per-
suaded that the Catholic Church denied it to him on good

"Per

nem fieri lotius substaatjie panis in
tius subslantiaJ vini in substantiam
proprie a sancta catholics ecclesia

substandam corporis Christi da
sanguinis ejus. Quse conversio
tninsEubstantio est appellata."
> "Si quis dixerit, solam fidem esse sufficientei
X euchaTisti:e sacramenlum, anathema sil,''

Cliristianie tellgionis non infrcquens ulriusque specie! usus fuiaset.

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDl.^A'AL DOCTRINES. 49

5;rounds. The Scholastic doctrine of the whole Christ in either
kind (totus Christus in qualibet specie) formed the dogmatic
basis of the right to deny. From nothing can the perverted
state of "science" in the Church be more plainly proved than
from the fact that this " science " succeeded in its presuming to
correct the institution of Christ. But of course science was
really only the pretext ; for the motives were quite different
that led the Church to withhold the cup from the laity.^ .A
crowd of difficulties threatened to arise in connection with the
question of the sacrifice of the Mass (Sessio XXII.), This was
the most seriously assailed institution, and a theoretical vindi-
cation of it could not be evaded; while on the other hand it was
impossible to write volumes. Yet volumes would have been
required in order to .solve ail the problems that had been
handed down by Scholasticism, problems that had been much
discussed, but had never been settled or reduced to precise
formula. Indeed the questions regarding the relation of the
sacrificial death of Christ to the Eucharist (above all to the first
celebration), and again of the Mass to the first Eucharist and
to the death on the Cross, were in a pre-eminent degree the real
mysteries of the labyrinthine dogmatic, and here every doctrinal
statement had only resulted in creating new difficulties ! Be-
sides, there was entire vagueness as to how the significance and
use of the Masses were to be theoretically understood. The
evil state of practice taught that the Mass was the most im-

'The Decree concludes wiih a remark which suggesls yielding to necessity: "Duos
veio Riticiilos, alius {scil. Sess. XIH.) propositas, hos nondum tamen excussos,
videliccl : An rotiones, qiiibus s. catholica ecclesia adducta fuil, ut communicaret
laicoj atque etiam non celebrantes sacerdotes sub nna lantum panis specie, ita sint
retinendxe, ut nulla latiune calicis usus cuiquam sit peimittendus, et An, si honestis
et Cbrisliann^ caritati consentaneis rationibus concedendus alicui vel nationi
vel regno calids u-ius videatur, sub aliquibus conditionibus coocedendus
sit, et qusenam sint illse ; eadem s. synodus in aliud lenipus, oblata sibi quani-
primuDi occasione, examinandos atque deliniendos reserval." With this is to be
compared the Decree of the zjrd SesEion : "integrum Degutium ad sand issi mum
dominum nostrum (sdl. the Pope) esse referendum, qui pro sub sinRulari prudenlia id
efhcit, quod ulile republicie Christians et saUilare petentibus usum calicis fore
judicaveril." That the decision could not be come to at Rome and in the Council
to grant Ihe cup to the laity was an extremely happy circumstance fijr Protestantism,
for many of those who had the fate of Ihe Protestant cause in their hand would have
be:n induced by ihil ci

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. 11.

portant function within religious and ecclesiastical life ; yet
dogmatic theorj', which could not surrender the unique impor-
tance of Baptism and the Sacrament of Penance, left only the
most meagre room for the efficacy of the Mass. In a very skil-
ful manner the Decree (c. i) glides over the gulfs in the historic
proof for the establishment of the Mass (by ChristJ, while it
defines in a way full of manifest contradictions the effect of the
ordinance, this effect being described in c. i as " saving virtue
for the remission of sins which are committed by us daily "
{" salutaris virtus in rcmissionem peccatorum, qua a nobis
quotidie committuntur "), in c. 2, on the other hand, as " a truly
propitiatory sacrifice " (" sacrificium verc propitiatorium "), which
cancels also the "crimes and heinous sins" (" crimina et ingentia
peccata ") of the penitent (contriti) ; indeed the expositions here
given can only be understood as meaning that in a way that is
direct, and that includes all blessings, the Mass applies Christ's
death on the Cross.^ For the rest, there is a thorough- going
vindication (c. 4), although in a cautiously veiled form,^ of the
whole evil practice of the Mass, as also a vindication of the
Masses in honour of saints (in hotiorem .sanctorum, c. 3), and,
finally, of the Roman Mass Canon^ down to the last word (c. 4), ,
Even the demand that the Mass shall be in the vernacular is
rejected, nor is an)- proof given (c. 8).* The Canons pronounce
anathema on everything that contradicts these doctrines, and so
makes a sharp separation between the Church of the sacrifice of J
the Mass and the Church of the Word.*

' "Una enim eadenique est hostia, idem nunc ofTertns
seipsuin lunc in ciuce obtulit, sola offerendi ralione divers;
cruenUe fructua per hanc incruentarn ubemme petdpiiinli
hanc quovis modo lierc^Wr."

s "Quare non sotum pro fidelium vivonim peccatis, pcenis, satisfaclioQibus et aliii J
necessitaiibus (in this way the whole disordered state of things is ranetioned), sed e
pro defunclis in Chrislo, nondum ad plenum pui^atis, rite juita apostolonim tntdi-
tionem (!) offertur."

>"Qui constat ex ip^is doinini verbis, turn ex apostolorum iradilionibus ac s
torum quoque poiitiiicain piis inEtitutionibus " — ^notice what are put tc^ether ben

'"Nod expedire visum est patribua" ; see on this Gihr, Das hi. Messopfer,
ed., p. 305 ff. In reading this work even a miki evangelical spirit must admit the
Reformers' title to speak of the Mass a.B idoialry,

' A certain influence of the Reformation is apparent in its being required (c. f
the minister shall explain (in the vernacular) something of what is read in the Mass,

Cujus quidem oblaliuni
: tantum abest, ut illi per I

CHAR II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI^KVAL DOCTRINES.

As might have been expected, the Decree concerning Penance
(de ptenitentia, Sessio XIV.) is the fullest. As the chief parts
of this Sacrament were settled matters for Scholastici.sm, and
as the Tridentinum took over here the whole Scholastic work,
it is not necessary to repeat in detail the positive definitions
(see Vol. VI., p. 243 ff). The formulations are distinguished
hy great clearness ; as we read, we have the feeling that we
-Stand on firm ground, though it is on ground which the Church
has created for itself Everj'thing here, down to the questions
as to materia, quasi materia, forma, is developed with precision.
It is to be pointed out as specially noteworthy, that the feeling
of comfort and of relief of conscience that follows upon the
reconciliatio is not described a.s a regular result of the Sacra-
ment (c. 3). But still more noteworth)', on the other hand, is
the influence which the Reformation exerted on the description
of the penitent disposition that is requisite. The party which
declared attritio to be enough for saving reception of the Sacra-
ment did not succeed in asserting itself; in opposition, rather,
to the teaching and practice of the two foregoing centur.et
contritio was required, and attritio declared to be merely a
salutary preparation ("ad dei gratiam impetrandam disponit,"
"viam ad justitiam parat"). Yet as attritio is called "contritio
imperfecta," as it is described as "a gift of God and an impulse
of the Holy Spirit, who, however, is not yet indwelling, but
only moving,"* as the assertion is also made that the reconciliatio
is not to be ascribed to coiitriiio " without a vow to receive the
Sacrament" ("sine sacramenti voto"), and as a distinction
again is drawn between contr ti 1 and contritio (caritate perfecta)
itself, as, finally, in spite of all excellent things said about the
feeling of sorrow, this feeling is not conjoined with fides, is not
developed from fides, all the attempts to get clear of the
mechanical view of penance were in vain, and it was shown by

"ne oves Christi esuriant nevepatvuli paoem petani, et nun sit qui ftangat eis." So
it is Doly the clearly-undeislood wni that seems la be bread 1

■ It may be noted by the way llial in c, x ihe sentence occura : " Ecclesia in
neminem )udicium exeicet, qui non pcius in ipsam per t>aptianii jsnuam fuerit
ingressus," i.t., tlie baptised are a// placed under its jurisdiction.

> " Donum dei et spiritussancti impulsum, nun adhucquideni inhahltantis sed lantuni

lIISTOR\' Ol' DOGMA. [CHAl'. II.

the subsequent development of the doctrine of penitence in the
Church, that there was no serious intention to expel the
attritio.' What the 4th Chap, of the Decree de pcenitentia really
does is to throw dust in the eyes of Protestants. In the 5th
Chap, stands the extravagant slalement, that " the whole Church
has always understood that full confession of sins is required of
all by divine law, because Christ has left behind him priests,
representatives of himself, as overseers and judges to whom all
mortal offences are to be made known"^ The old dispute as to
whether the priest only pronounces forjiveness, or bestows it
as a judge, is settled according to the latter alternative (c. 6).
As the position is rejected, that God never forgives sins without
also remitting the whole penalty, room is obtained for the
satisfactiones : without these God accepts heathens, but not
Christians who have lapsed. But in a remarkable way the
satisfying penalties (satisfactorije pLeti^) are also presented
under an aspect which is quite foreign to their original establish-
ment within the institution of penance; by these, it is represented,
we are made conformable (conformes) to Christ, who has
rendered satisfaction for our sins, ("having from thence the
surest pledge also, that if we suffer together we shall also be
glorified together").^ That is an evangelical turn of thought,
which falls outside the framework of the "penance."* The 15
Canones de pcenitentia, however, leave nothing to be desired in ,
the way of rejection on principle of the evangelical view. Let
the 4th only be brought under notice : " If anyone shall deny '
that, for full and perfect remi.ssion of sins, three acts are required
in the penitent, forming, as it were, the material of the Sacra-
ment of Penance, namely, contrition, confession, and satisfaction,
which are called the three parts of penance, or shall say that

' That [he Tridentinuin attemplB to idealise Ihe altritio is on good ground pointed
out by Sluekert, Die Kath. Lehre v. d. Reue (1896), p. 63.

i " Universa ecclesia semper intellexit, inlegram peceatorum confesisionem omnibui
jure divine necessariam e:(istere, quia. Chriatus sarerdoCes aui ipsius vicarios reliquit J
lamquam prasides et judices, ad quos omnia morlalia ctimina deferantur."

'"Cerlissimam quoque inde acrhani halientes, quod si compatimur, et canglori-
ficabimui,*' c. 8.

'Compare also what immediately ibllows ; the thought is evangelical r "neqiie
vero ita est sa.tisfectio hffic — per ilium accept amur a patre." All the greater is
cuntrasl preseuted by the series of propositions directly succeeding.

fllAP, II.] CODIFICATION OK MEDI.EVAL DOCTRINES. 53

there are only the two parts of penance, namely, terror struck
home to the conscience through the knowledge of sin, and faith
awakened by the Gospel or by the absolution through which
one believes that his sins are remitted to him through Christ, let
him be anathema." '

On the Sacrament of Extreme Unction (S. XIV.) it is not
necessary to lose a word. The decisions, also, as to ordination
to the priesthood (S. XXI II.) contain the Scholastic theses with-
out any correction.s. They begin with the famous words :
"Sacrifice and priesthood are so conjoined by the appointment
of God that both exist in every law" ("sacrificium et sacer-
dotium ita dei ordinatione conjuncta sunt, ut utrumque in omni
lege exstiterit "). The Church of the sacrificial ritual asserts
itself as also the Church of the priests, and it does the latter
because it does the former. Along with sacrifice. Christ insti-
tuted at the same time the priesthood ; the seven orders (ordines)
have been in existence from "thevery beginning of the Church "-
(c. 2). The old question of dispute as to the relation of the
bishops to the priests (whether they, properly speaking, form an
order), is not definitely decided. It is merely asserted that they
are superior to the priests, as they have taken the place of the
Apostles (c. 4).^ All co-operation of the laity at the ordination
of the clergy is very strongly disapproved of at the close of the
Decree.* The Decree as to marriage (Sessio XXIV.) has not
understood how to give to this formless Sacrament any better
dogmatic shape. A kind of homily must take the place of

I "Si quis negaveril ad inlegtam et prrfeclam peccatotum remissionem reijuiri tves
actus in prenitente, quasi materiam sacramenti pxnitentite, vid. cunttitionem, con-
fessioneni el satisfactionem, quse tres pienilentite partes dicuntur, aut dii:erit, dnag
tanCum esse piEnitentix panes, terrores scil, jncussos coDscientix agnilo peccato el
fidEiii conceptam ex evangelio vel absolutiiine, qua cri^dit quis sibi pet Chnsluin
lemissa peccala, nnathema sit."

- "Ab ipso ecclesite initio."

= The unceitaiiHy as to Ihe position of the bishops is still fiuther iocreascd by tlit
6lh Canon, which is occupied, nut with enumerating the seven orders, but with
treating o[ the " hierarchia divjna oidinatione instiluta, que constat t\ episcopis,
prtsbyleris et ministris." How is the hierarchy related to Ihe seven orders?

* The Canons reject the Protestant doctrine. Above all in c I the opinion is con-
demned, that there is no sacerdotium extemani, and that the office is only the nudum
miniislerium prEedicandi evangeliuni. The 8th Canon leaves the Pope free to create
as many bLhops as he pleases.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CUAi: 11.

theological development. Only in the anathematisms do the
interests of the Church find expression.'

Purgatory and the Saints were already referred to in passing
in the Decree as to the Mass, They were expressly dealt with
nt the 25th Session. The Decree as to purgatory contains the
indirect admission that much mi.schief had been done in tlie
Church in connection with it, and that it had led Christendom
into .superstition ; there is allusion even to " base gain, scandals,
and stumbling-blocks for the faithful " (turpe lucrum, scandala,
fidelium offendicula). But just on that account the " sana
doctrina de purgatorio " shall henceforward be strenuously in-
sisted on. To more preci.se definitions, which would have had
the spirit of the age against them, the Council did not proceed.
So, likewise, there was only a quite rapid dealing with the
invocation and worship of saints, as also with relics and
pictures. The intercession of saints is established, and the
Protestant view declared " impious." The worship of relics and
pictures is also maintained,^ an appeal being made to the
second Nicene Council. Anyone who is not acquainted with
the practice of the Church might conclude from these calm
definitions, which are adorned by no anathemas, that unimport-
ant abuses were dealt with, especially as the Church did not
omit here also to lament the abuses ("if any abuses, however,
have crept into these holy and salutary observances, the holy
Synod has the intensest desire that they be forthwith abolished,
etc."^), and at the close really gives directions for checking the
disorder— directions, however, which, as subsequent history has
taught, really gave to the bishops, or ultimately, let us say, to
the Pope alone, the title to perpetuate the old disorder, and to
intensify it by his authority. The largest amount of reserve

'The view is coniiemned (l) I hat mairiage " non graliam confert." The Church
reserves lo ilself in the Canons the entire legislntion as to marriage, and sanctions sil
ihal it hsd previously done in this province. In c. 10, in spite of marriaee being a.
Sacrament, anyone Is condemned who does not regard the iinmnrried state as letter
than the married. Hut why, then, is there no saciament of virginity?

lYet with the addition: "Non quod credatui inesse aliqua in iis divinilas vel
I, propter quaui sini colend^E."

S"In has aulem sanclas et salutares odservationea si i^m abusus irrepserint, eos
prorsus abuleri sancta synodvis vchenienter cupil," etc.

. 11.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI.FA'AL UOCTklNES.

and caution was shown in the way in which imlulgeiices were
spoken of. The Scholastic theory of indulgences is not in any
way touched ; the abuses are admitted, and their removal —
"lest ecclesiastical discipline be weakened by too great facility"'
is strongly insisted on.^ But with regard to the matter itself
there is no yielding, even to the extent of an inch; for in-
dulgences have a saving value for Christendom. What is
needed is only that the business of granting holy indulgences
be carried on in a pious and holy way on behalf of all believers ;
everyone is to be condemned who declares them useless, or
denies that it is competent to the Church to dispense them.

Tlius the Church completed by the Tridentinum her course
of distinct secularisation as the Church of sacrifice, priest, and
sacrament' In her declaring to be true, saving, and divine all
that the Church of Rome did, all the usages she adopted on her
long progress through the Middle Ages, .she withdrew from the
struggle which Luther's theses conjured up, the struggle to
reach a true inward understanding of the Christian religion.

1 "Ne nimia ra.cilitale ecclesiastica discipline enerveHTr."

2 " Pravos quicBlus omnes pro his consequend is, unde plurima in Christiano populo
abusuum causa Buxil."

Jin odUiti.in to the indulgences (see Schneider, Die Abliisse, 7th ed., 1881) one
must study the theory and practice of Ihe beniiUclion! and sacramentalia, in order to
see how far the Catholic Church had drifted, not only from what is Christian, but
even from spiritual religion. The dogmatic exposilions of the "hencdictio con-
stitutiva" and the " consccratio," as distinguished from ihe "benedictio inroca-
liva," are a veritable mocker», not only of Ihe Christian, bot of all spiritual
religion. I gather out a few passages from a work of very high authority,
Gihr, Das hi. Messopfer, 4lh ed., 1887, p. 220 : " However perfect as regards
natural worth, artistic adornment, and beauty, the articles may be that are
intended for use in the sacrificial celebration, they are certainly not on that account
alone to be fonhwith employeJ in divine service : in addition to these qualities the
most of the vessels used in worship require a previous benediction or consecration
- . . ihiy musi become something saired (Ks fa.i^is.\. By the h'essing and the prayeis
of Ihe Church the liturgical vessels liecome, net inirely lanctified, but aisa fitted te
produce various saving effects in those -Jika use Ihem devoutly attd K he come into coniaet
with them. The articles employed in worship which are blessed or consecrated are,
as it were, tiansferted/nn« Iht domain of nature Jo the tingdam of grate ( — ^so we have a
-cloth transferred to the kingdom of grace, a f!agun traniiferted to the kingdom of grace,
etc. ! — ) and arc the special pioperty of God ; chey thus far bear in themselves some-
iking divine, on the ground of which a certain religious veneration is due to them and
must he paid to them." I", azo, n. 1 ; "The consecration (benediclio conslitutiva or
n which holy oil is made use of) is essentially distinct from the ir

56 nisTOKv OF do<;ma. fLiiAr. 11.

All discussions a.s to grace, freedom, sin, law, good works, etc.,
were at best relegated to the second place ; for they were only
conducted on the assumption that under all circumstances the
Church asserted itself as that which it had become— as the
papal, sacrificial, and sacramental institution. In the Triden-
tinum the Roman Church formally embodied its refusal to treat
the question of religion at the level to which that question had
been raised by Luther. It held firmly to the ancient medieval
stage. That is pre-eminently the significance of the great
Council.

But, nevertheless, a discussion of the Reformation conception
of Christianity on its merits dared not be avoided. That was
demanded even by many Catholic Christians. Just at that
time, indeed, there was a party influential in Catholicism who
strongly accentuated the Augustinian-Mystic thoughts — they
were a counterpoi.se to the sacramental system — and who set
themselves to oppose the Pelagianism and Probabilism which
are the co-efficients of the Sacrament Church. The two
benediction on thi-s ground, that it imprtssts iipou ptrsens atid thijigs a higher, mfiet-
nahiral charaitir, i.e., ii iransferE ihem peimanently inio Ibe state of sanctified and
religious ohjecls." P. 300, n. 2 ; "In the case of the candles that are 4/Mierf there is
still the lacramenlai clemenl lo be taken into account. That is to say, these candles
are not merely religious symbols, which represent something supernatural, but are
alse sacnd eijecls, viAich — in thtir own n-ay — fredute a certain supematiiral effect,
inasoaick as Ihey impart to us an the ground tf, and by Tiirtue of the prayer ef the
Church, divine blessing and preiecticm, especially against the spirits of darkness. "
P. 360 ; " Incense that has been blessed is a sacramental ; as such, it does not merely
represent lomethtng higher and mysterious, but tvorks also (in its way) spirituar,
supernatural effects . . . it is the organ (vehicle) of divine protection eaid blessing,
Thiough the sign of the cross and the prayer of the Church the incense receives a
certain pernor to drive Satan from, or lo keep him from, the soul, etc. . . . It senvs
(alio) to consecrate persons and objects. That is Ici say, with the incense-clouds there
diffuses itself also the power of the blessing which the Cbuicb pronounces and means
to bestow ; the incense-clouds bring all they touch into a consecrated atmosphere.'"
Lei one read also the detestable section on the benediction of the priest's garments
(p. 255 f.) and its allej^rtcal and moral signilicance. "The garments used in
worship only lose their benediction from being mended when the new unconsecraled
piece applied or inserted is larget than the consecrated piece, but not when it is
smaller," etc. As in the indulgence the Church really, i.e. in praxi, created for
itself a second Sacrament of Penance, so it created for itself in the " sacramentalia "
new Sacraments, which are much more convenient, because they are entirely in the
Church's power. In both cases it legitimised in Christianity Kabbinism and the
y and practice p^f the Pharisees and Talmudisls.

t-'HAl'. 11.] CODrpEUATION OF MEDI.tVAL DOCTRINES. 57

Decrees on original sin and justification are, on the one hand,
the precipitate of the discussion with Protestant Christianity,
and, on the other hand, a compromise between Thomism
(Augustinianism) and Nominah'sm. The Decree on justifica-
tion, although a product of art, is in many respects remarkably
well constructed ; indeed, it may be doubted whether the
Reformation would have developed itself if this Decree had
been issued at the Lateran Council at the beginning of the
century, and had really passed into the flesh and blood of the
Church. But that is an idle reflection. That the Roman
Church expressed itself on justification as the terms of that
Decree represent, was itself a consequence of the Reformation.
Just for that reason the Decree must not be over-rated. It was '
the product of a situation which never repeated itself, nor ever
again will repeat itself, for the Roman Church. At that time
this Church stood under the influence at once of Augustinian-
ism and Protestantism, not as regards its Sacraments and
institutions, but certainly as regards the spiritual conception of
religion ; for it could not simply identify itself with the old
Nominalistic Scholasticism ; but as yet the Jesuits had not
found the way to adopt the critical and sceptical momenta of
Nominalism, to translate them into momenta of Probabilism,
and thus to create those elastic loci which adjusted themselves
to every pressure and cverj- turn of Church politics. Against the
Thomists, therefore, one was, up to a certain point, defenceless
at Trent ; the Thomists, on the other hand, as the proceedings
at the religious conferences had already shown, were not
strongly averse to the Protestant doctrine of justification
(looked at as a doctrine by itself), however decided they might
be in their opposition to Protestantism. The deep distinction
between Protestants and Augustinian Thomists is apparent
enough from the fact, that just on account of the doctrine of
justification the former combated as heretical the " usages " of
the Roman Church, while the latter could not understand why
it should be impos.sible to unite the two. Yet a clear percep-
tion of the contrast of position was not arrived at, because even
Protestantism was then already beginning to treat the doctrine
of justification as a Scholastic doctrine, and in its deriving from

IIISTORV Of DOGMA.

[C.I.

justification the rifjlit to religious and spiritual freedom had
become uncertain and narrow. So it could not but follow that
an effort should be made to express the contrast in Scholastic
■definitions, which are not without tlieir importance, which,
indeed, arc highly important as setting forth the dififerent
fundamental views, but which, nevertheless, rather conceal than
elucidate the real distinction in its full extent. Or is the
■difference between Catholicism and Protestantism really de-
scribed when it is said that for the former justification is a
process (!), for the latter a once-occurring event ; that by the
former an infused grace (gratia infusa) is taught, by the latter
an imputed righteousness (justitia imputativa) ; that for the
former it is a question about faith and love, for the latter a
■question about faith alone ; that the former includes in its think-
ing the idea of conduct, while the latter thinks only of relation-
ship ? These are ail merely half-truths, ailhough the contro-
versy of creeds — especially later on — was carried on chiefly in
■the line of these antitheses. It would stand hard with Protes-
tantism if its view admitted of being expressed in these sharp
formulje.

On the other hand, if the Roman Church remains the Romail
•Church — and at Trent the decision was formed to undertake no
self-reformalion — it is a matter of comparative indifference
■what it contemplated teaching with regard to justification and
original sin ; for all the propositions here promulgated, whether
iheirterms suggest Nominalism or AugustinianThomismoreven
the Reformation,^ are only minor propositions under the major,
that the use and wont of the Roman Church is the supreme
Jaw.

Having first made these necessary observations, let us
■examine the two Decrees. In the Decree on original sin the
flagrant Pelagianism, or Semi-Pelagianism, of Nominahsm is
rejected in strong and gratifying terms ; but the positive pro-
positions are so shrewdly coiisiructed that it is a\vfa.ys possible
still to connect with them a meaning that widely diverges from
that of Augustine.

' Ab is well known ibere was at one lime a near apptoacli in Rome lo approval of
■I he entire firsl half of ihe Augsburg Confcssiiin.

CHAI', II,] CODIFICATION OK MEDL-JiVAL DOCTRINES.

At the very beginning;, in Chapter I., it is said that Adam
lost the holiness and righteousness " in which he had been con-
stituted " (" in qua constitutus fuerat "). That is ambiguous :
it can be understood as "creatus" (Thomistic ; increated
righteousness) ; but it can also be understood as an added gift
{Scotistic ; donum superadd! turn), and the latter interpretation
is perhaps confirmed by the phrase "accepta a deo sanctitas et
justitia" ("holiness and righteousness received from God").
So also there is ambiguity when it is said that by the Fall the
whole Adam in body and soul was "changed for the worse"
("in deterius commutatus"); for what does "for the worse"
mean? In the 6th Decree there is substituted for this, " lost
innocence" (" innocentiam perdidisse " c. i); but immediately
afterwards it is declared that free will is by no means destroyed,
but " weakened in force and perverted " (" in viribus attenuatum
et inclinatum "). This definition teaches that " for the worse "
("in deterius") is really to be understood as a comparative, and
that there was no inclination to approve of Augustine's doctrine
of sin and freedom. In the 2nd Chapter (cf. Chap. III.)
inherited death and inherited sin are strictly taught, and there
is set over against them the sole merit of Christ, communicated
in baptism (infant baptism. Chap. IV.), by which merit the
reatus originalis peccati, that is, guilt, is completely wiped out,
so that there is now no longer anything hate-worthy in t'le
man, and the way to heaven (ingressus in ccelum) sands open
to him. But the Decree also says indirectly that all sin itself
is at the same time abolished : "this holy Synod confesses and
holds that concupiscence or slumbering passion remains in the
baptized ; when this is exposed to conflict it cannot do injury
to those who do not yield to, but strenuously resist it through
the grace of Christ Jesus. . . . With regard to this concupis-
cence, which the Apostle sometimes calls sin, the holy Council
declares that the Catholic Church has never understood it to
be called sin because it is truly and properly sin in the
regenerate, but because it springs from sin and disposes to sin."^

^milem, hiec s. sj'nodus iatctur et
consentientibus Tiriliter per Chrisli
conciiiiisccntiam, quam aliquando

With this very rationalistic Scholastic reflection about evil
desire the religious standpoint for contemplating sin was
abandoned, and room was again made for all questions of doubt
that were bound to lead to Nominalistic (Pelagian) answers.
Because in the whole Decree on original sin what was dealt
with was not failh and unbelief, because therefore forgiveness of
sin appeared as an external act, without mention being made
of the medium in which alone men can win for themselves
assurance of forgiveness, it was inevitable that the definitions —
if there was a wish to avoid the magical^should issue in
Pelagianism. If the process of the forgiveness of sins takes
place outside of faith, evil desire cannot be sin ; for in that case
baptism would be insufficient, since it would not secure what it
is meant to secure, namely, the removal of sin. Further, as
the continued existence of evil desire cannot be denied, nothing
remains but to declare it a matter of indifference. Such an
assumption, however, must necessarily have a reflex influence
on the shaping of the doctrines of the primitive state and of
free will ; concupiscence must be a.scribed to the nature of man,
and accordingly holiness cannot express his true nature,^ but is
a donum superadditum. The Decree, therefore, did not reach
the height of the Protestant view, at which, without regard to-
the earthly condition of man and the psychological questions,
the problem of sin and freedom is identical with the problem of
yodlessness and trust in God.'

The " thorny doctrine of grace," as a modern Roman theolo-
gian has in an unguarded moment styled it, occupied the Fathers

apostolus peccalum appellat, s. synotlus decli
inteliexisse peccatum appellari, quo"
(juia. ex peccito est et ad peccatum ii

1 It can do so, certninly, only on c
divinely produced childlike trust in (

'That in spite of Ihe Augtistinian
□Id position i« shown by the closing :
esse sux intentionis compiEhendere
beatam et immaculatam virginei

iclini

propne ii

iditioD that by holiness there is understood the

«l and the feat of (iod.

n there was a wish to leave cverj-lhiog in the
of the Decree: "Declarat synodus,
hoc decieto, ubi de peccato oiiginali agituT^
im, dei genelricem sed obsetvandaa

slitiitiones felids recordationis Xysti pape IV., sub poonis in eis coDstitulionibus.
conlenlis, quaa innovat." There coutd, indce<l, be as yet no venturing be>i)nd these
definitions "felicis recutdationis," witTiout raising a storm, for the opposition betwe
Franciscans and Dominicans at this point was still unbroken.

CHAT, n.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI.llVAL DOCTRINES. 6l

for months. The Decree which finally took shape could — after
all that had been written in the fourteenth and fifteenth cen-
turies — ^have been gladly welcomed by the Protestants, on many
things an understanding could easily have been come to, and
other things might have been left to the Schools, had it not been
necessary to say to one's self that here language frequently
concealed thought, and that the authors of the Decree, in spite
of their Biblical attitude and their edifying language, did not
really know whRt/aii/i meant, as evangelically understood. In
spite of all appearance to the contrary, the interest that really
governs the whole Decree is the desire to show how there can
be an attainment to good works that have weight in the sight of
God.

The voluminous Decree, which takes the place of the original
sketch, falls into three parts (1-9, 10-13, 14-16). Almost every
chapter contains compromises.

Chap. I. describes the entire inability of the children of Adam
to deliver themselves from "the dominion of sin, the devil, and
death by means of natural power (per vim nature) or by means
of the letter of the law of Moses (per litteram legis Moysis), Yet
there is immediately added as a supplement, "Although free
will is by no means extinguished in them, however it may be
diminished in power and perverted " (" tamesti in eis iiberum
arbitrium minime extinctum esset, viribus licet attenuatum et
inclinatum "). Chap. II. declares that God has sent Christ in
order that all men might receive adoption and become sons of
God (Him hath God set forth as the propitiator through /at//i
in His blood for our sins " ["hunc proposuit deus propitiatorem
per fidem in sanguine ipsius pro peccatis nostris "]). Here,
therefore, /bi/y4 seems to have its sovereign place given to it.
Yet (Chap. III.) — all do not accept the benefit of the death of
Christ, but only those to whom the merit of His suffering is im-
parted. What follows leaves the question in obscurity whether
an eternal election of grace must be thought of Yet so it would
appear: those only are justified to whom regeneration through the
merit of Christ's suffering is given by means of the grace through
which they become righteous. A vague sentence indeed, which
leaves it to everyone to determine the relation between election.

IIISTORV OF DOGMA. [CIIAP. II.

justification, and regeneration. In Chap. IV. justification is
described in a fundamental way as justificatio impii. It is a trans-
lation from the standing of the sinful Adam into the standing
of grace and adoption (that has an evangelical ring), and, in the
era of the gospel, is effected simply through baptism ("or the
vow to receive it " [aut ejus voto]). But in the process of
describing justification more exactly in Chap. V., the thought of
"translation from one standing into another " (" ab uno statu in
alteram ") becomes embarrassed and uncertain. It is here
asserted, that is to say, that the beginning of justification is
wrought by the gratia prsveniens, that is, the vocatio (by which
adults are called in the absence of any merits of their own [" qua
adulti nullis eorum existentibus meritis vocantur"] — this in op-
position to the lax views of Nominalism) ; but its contemplated
end is, "that those who have been alienated from God by their
sins, may be disposed by His inciting and aiding grace, to con-
vert themselves in order to tFieir own justification, by their freely
assenting to, and co-operating with, the same grace."* In this
way the Augu.stinian-Thomistic view is abandoned in favour of
the laxer view ; but still there is no mention whatever of faith.
Witli a view, however, to conciliate the Thomists, the Decree
still further pruceeds: " in such a way that, when God touches
the heart of man by the illumination of the Holy Spirit, man
neither docs nothing whatever himself in receiving that inspira-
tion, since he can also reject it, nor, on the other hand, can he, of
his free will, without the grace of God, bring himself into a posi-
tion of righteousness before G^d'"^ But of what avail is this cnn-
ciliation, if while a human activitv towards the good is asserted,
no thought of faith is entertained? Even in this " preparation
for the justification" (" pr^paratio ad justificationem ") the
thought of merit must necessarily come in ;^ for the activity

1 " Ut qui iier peccatn a. lieo aversi cranl, pet ejus excitantem atque adjuvan/em
gtaliam ad converiendiim se ad maiu ipSBrum justificationem, eidem gtatize libere
assentiendo et eB-oferandi), disponantur."

« " Ita lit tangente deo car horoidis per spititus s. illumination em neque homo iprc
nihil omnina agat, inspirationem illam lecipiens, quippe qui illsm et abiicere pote~l,
sine gratia dei moverese sid justitiam coram illo libera voliinute possit."
The Decree does not, indeed, say that " the letting one's Sflf be liisposed for

exclude this vi

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDIvtVAL DOCTRINES.

that knows itself to be entirely in-wrought, and therefore is at the
same time "gifi," " virtue," and " reward of virtue" ("donum,
virtus, prFEmium virtutis "), is faith alone. But just on that
account also, faith forbids the breaking up of "justification," as
"translation into the state of adoption," into various acts.
Wherein the right "disposition" consists is shown in Chap. VI.
It consists (i) in the "faith through hearing" ("fides ex
auditu ") ; this is a free movement God-wards, inasmuch as one
believes that the content of divine revelation is true, and believes
this in particular of the reconciliation and justification through
Christ, (2) in insight into the fact that one is a sinner, and
accordingly, in fear of the divine righteousness, in reflection on
the divine mercy, in the hope that springs from this that God
will be favourably disposed for Christ's sake, and in incipient
love to Him as the source of all righteousness, from which there
arises " a certain hatred and horror " of sin, ' (3) in the entering,,
in connection with the decision to receive baptism, upon a new
life and course of obedience to the commandments of God-
What has all that to do with justification? This description is
certainly not sketched from the standpoint of one by
whom justification has been experienced, but by one who,
stands without, and reflects on what the course of justificationi
must be if there is to be nothing to upset thought and nothing
to be unintelligible. Will the justified man know of anything
he can assert, prior to his experience of justification, regarding
his incipient faith, incipient love, incipient hatred, incipient
repentance? Will he not rather say with the apostle that he is
dead in sins ? What is an incipient good from the standpoint of
one who has the knowledge of Augustine i " for me the good is
to cling to God"("niihi adhsrere deo botium est")? And
what is the idea of faith involved, if it is nothing but the begin-
ning of the beginning, a holding the divine revelation to be
true! Here everything still belongs to the media-'val mode of
view, which has no capacity for perceiving the personal ex-
perience, that religion is a relation of person to person. Under
the influence of the desire, legitimate in itself, that faith shall
produce tife,z.A\xicX leap is taken by the contemplating mind from.
' I.e., " per earn po^nitentiain quam ante baptismum agi oportet."

64 niSTOKV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

assent to love, after the unhappy distinction has been made
between "preparation for justification" and "justification
itself," while " faith in the promise.s " (" fides promissionum ") is
<]ealt with as an empty phrase. In Chap. VII, "justification
itself" is now described in quite a Scholastic way. It is — this is
the first statement made — not only the forgiveness of sins, but
also sanctification and renewal of the inward man ; nay, that
Augustine may nut be pronounced too much in the right, there
is added, "renewal by t'c/««/rtrj/ acceptance of grace "(" reno-
vatio per voluntariam su.sceptionem grati;E "). But how can a
man be sanctified otherwise than by the wonderful assurance
given him of forgiveness of sins ? It is characteristic again of
genuine Medievalism that beyond thinking of forgiveness as the
mechanical removal of sin, there is no ability to form any
thoughts regarding it. But if in the matter of forgiveness
all depends on its being believed as such, the question of chief
importance relates to the inward condition and spirit of him
who believes it. If this question is put, then the form of ex-
pression "not only forgiveness of sins, but also renewal of the
inner man " is simply absurd — unless forgiveness of sins be
viewed as an act that takes place outside human consciousness
and feeling, and that, certainly, is the presupposition of the
■Catholic thesis. There now follow the definitions as to the
""linal, efficient, meritorious, instrumental, and formal causes"'
■of justification, which have little interest. The only thing of
importance is that there is described as the "instrumental
cause," not faith, but (in skilfully chosen words) the Sacrament
■of Baptism, " which is the Sacrament of the faith without which
no one has ever come to participate in justification " (" quod est
sacramentum fidei, sine qua nulli umquam contigit justificatio").
This justification then brings it about that we are not only
regarded as righteous, but are truly described as such, and are
such, seeing that we receive into ourselves righteousness, "every-
one according to his measure, which the Holy Spirit apportions
to individuals as He wills, and according to each one's own dis-
position and co-operation " (" unusquisque suam secundum men-
luram, quam spiritus s. partitur singulis prout vult et secundum

misn finalis, efficiens, meritoria, iriHtni menial is, farnialis."

propriam cujusque dispositionem et co-operationem "). Here
we have the complete contradiction of the evangelical conception
—and even, indeed, a flagrant contradiction of the terms " trans-
lation into a new standing" ("translatio in novum statum"); for,
strictly speaking, what is suggested here is not a translation into
a new standing as a divinely-produced effect, but the being filled
with righteousness, as if righteousness were a material, this being
filled, moreover, being first of all gradual and different in the
case of different individuals, and then determined by the measure
of one's own disposition and co-operation. Here, therefore, not
only the doctrine of the "meritum decongruo," but also theanti-
Thomistic doctrine of the " meritum de congruoante justifica-
tionem," are, by implication, left open at least. With greater
precision the "receptio justitiie " is then described as "inherent
diffusion of the love of God " (" diffasio cantatis dei inha:rens,")
so that, along with the forgiveness of sins, a man receives as
infused all these things — namely, faith, love, hope — through
Jesus Christ, into whom he is engrafted. It is not the term
" gratia infusa" that leads astray here — one might very well so
express himself figuratively — but it is the incapacity again to
get out of faith anything else than assent. Hence the further
statement is forthwith made that without the addition of hope and
love faith cannot perfectly unite with Christ But are not
"faith," "hope," and "love" together what the evangelical
Christian understands by "faith" alone? Certainly it would be
possible to understand the Decree accordingly, and on this basis
to effect a union with the Tridentine view. But the definite
assertion that now follows — namely, that eternal life is only
imparted to hope and love, shows that the controversy at
this point is no dispute about words ; for the placing together
of " love " and " eternal life " has its ultimate ground in the wish
to derive eternal life also from man's own deeds, while that life
is unquestionably given in the faith in forgiveness of sin itself
and in that alone.

In the 8th Chapter there is an embarrassed discussion of the
Pauline principle, that justification is tied to faith and takes
place gratuitously. Here there is a flat contradiction of the
apostle, the principle being represented as meaning " that we are

described as being justified by faith, because faith is the begin-
ning, foundation, and root of human salvation" ("ut per
fidem ideo justificari dicaraur, quia fides est humanse salutis
initium, fundamentum et radix"). That is more than am-
biguity. Equally lacking in truthfulness is the explanation of
the "gratis"; for while it is represented here as meaning that
nothing that precedes justification, neither faith nor works.
merits the grace of justification, yet, according to what has been
stated in Chap. V., that foregoing preparation .is absolutely neces-
sary that justification may be obtained. At the close of this
first section there now follows (Chap. IX.) the polemic against
the empty " fiducia " of the heretics, the formulating of which
gave the largest amount of trouble to the Fathers. Help was
sought for in the end by transforming the opposing doctrine into
a fictitious object of dread. Although one must believe that
sins are, for Christ's sake, gratuitously forgiven by the divine
mercy, "yet it must be said that to no one boasting o{ his trust
and his Eissurance of the remission of his sins, and easily res ting \n
that alone, are, or have been, his sins forgiven "(" tamen neraini
fiduciam et certitudinem remissionis peccatorum suorumy(7c;«K//
et in ea sola quiescenti peccata dimitti vel dimissa esse dicendum
est").^ What the real aim of this self-evident statement is only
appears from what follows. Here it is affirmed that certainty
regarding one's own justification does not necessarily belong to |
justification, that it is not needful that one should firmly believe J
in the forgiveness of his sins in order to be really freed from his
sins, and that it is an error to assume that forgiveness of sins
and justification are effected only in faith ("as if anyone not
believing this must have doubt about the promises of God, and
about the efficacy of the death and resurrection of Christ " ^ ),
In order that these propositions, which rob true faith of all I
meaning — faith means simply nothing else than being, or having I
the wish to be, a member of the Catholic Church — may not I

>Also theaddidon, "cum apud hcereticos et schismalicoa
[empestate til, et magna, contra, ecclesiam Calholi

^"Qiiasi qui hoc non credit, de dei
Christi efficacia dubitet."

prsdicatuT vi

el resurrectionis \

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI^^VAL UOCTRIKES.

appear too startling, there is added to them the proof, suggestive
either of want of candour or want of understanding, that when
man thinks of his weakness he must always continue to fear
whether he has received grace, as if that had ever been denied
by any serious-minded Christian, while undoubtedly the con-
clusion drawn, that certainty of salvation is impossible, is entirely
incompetent!

The 2nd section treats of the " increase of justification "
(" incrementum justification is.") Here it is taught (Chap. X.)
that the justified are renewed from day to day by observing the
commandments of God and of the Church, and that accordingly
"' they grow in righteousness, _/'(«VA co-operating with good works,
and are in a greater degree justified " (" in ipsa justitia cooperante
fide bonis operibus crescunt atque magis justificantur'") Justi-
fication, then, is here conceived of in its progress (not justifica-
tion itself) as a process resting upon grace, faith, and good
works. With regard to good works it is taught (Chap, XI.) that
even the justified man is placed under the law of command-
ments, and that these commandments are by no means incapable
of being fulfilled. In hesitating terms it is affirmed that they
are easy and sweet rather, because they can be fulfilled, or
because one has to pray with a view to their fulfilment, and God
gives help for this end. Moreover, the righteous do not cease
to be righteous when they fall into daily sins ; for God does not
forsake those who are already justified, if they do not forsake
Him, But this view can give rest to no tender conscience, if it
be the case that the maintenance of justification must be
dependent in some way on one's own action. The Decree
expressly observes that one must not rely on faith alone, but on
faitb and the keeping of the commandments (observatio man-
datorum), even though the latter be interrupted by small sins.
In order, however, to conceal the laxness of this rule, a ^eru^uo-iy
eh iiKko ycfof is employed, and the proposition is constructed
thus : — " Therefore no one ought to flatter himself on the ground
of faith alone, thinking that by faith alone he is made an heir
and shall obtain the inheritance, even though he does not suffer
■with Christ, that he may also be glorified with Him " (" Itaque
nemo sibi in sola fideblandiri debet, putans fide solase heredem

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

esse constitutum hereditatemque consecuturum, etiatnsi Christo
nort compatiatur, ut et conglorificetur'") To this it is added, that
it is contrary to the teaching of the orthodox religion to say
that the righteous cannot do a single good work that is not im-
perfect ; still less can the assertion be tolerated, that all works
deserve eternal penalty, and that there must be no looking at
all to the eternal reward. In this last cautious turn the notion
of desert, without the term describing it, is introduced. It was
necessary for the Fathers to move here very warily, if they were
to put matters right with all parties. In the I2th and 13th
Chapters it is then taught, that, although justification grows, no
one is entitled to become assured of his election and of the
"gift of perseverance" (" donum perse ve ran t i te ") "except by
special revelation" ("nisi ex speciali revelatione "). Yet here
again, in Chapter XIII., there is an ambiguity, since only " the
being assured with an absolute certainty" (" certum esse absoluta
certituditie") is forbidden, while it is elsewhere said that one
must base the surest hope on the " help of God " (" in dei
auxilio," so not on grace), and since the Pauline sentence is
suddenly woven in, that God works the willing and the perform-
ing. Yet " labours, watchings, almsgiving, prayers, offerings,
fastings, chastity" (" labores, vigilia;, eleemosynte, orationes,
oblationes, jejunia, castitas") are requisite, for we are not yet
regenerated " in glory " (" in gloria ") but " unto the hope of
glory" ("in spem glorise "). Accordingly the whole penance
system is recommended, that there may be progress in assur-
ance. However noteworthy it is that all external legality and
merit are here left out of consideration, still the fundamental
view is retained, that eternal life and the assurance of justifica-
tion are dependent also on good works, which, however, on the
other hand, are to be regarded as the victorious struggle of the
spirit with the flesh. The uncertainty of the whole conception
is sufficiently indicated by the threefold view taken of good
works: they are = " suffering together with Christ" (" compati
Christo ") = " keeping the commandments of God " ("observatio
mandatorum dei " ; in this sense meritorious, though that is not
expressly said) and = " contending with the flesh, the world, and
the devil " (" pugna cum carne, mundo et diabolo ").

CHAP. II.] CODIFICATION OF MEDI/EVAL DOCTRINES.

In the last section the restoration of justification when it has
been lost is dealt with. The restoration is effected {Chap. XIV.)
by means of the Sacrament of Penance (" second plank after
shipwreck " [" secunda post naufragium tabula."]) The penance
of the lapsed must be different from that of the candidate for
baptism ; the description of It follows the well-known scheme.
Attritio is not thought of, but it is remarked that the Sacrament
of Penance does not always, like baptism, cancel the temporal
penalty, along with cancelling guilt and the eternal penalty ;
hence satisfactions are needed. But it is not the case, as the
opponents think, that justification come.s to be lost only through
unbelief; it is lost rather through every mortal sin (Chap. XV.);
nay, it can be lost through such sin, while faith continues to
exist In no way could the inferior conception of faith enter-
tained here be more plainly expressed. It is only here that the
Decree now begins to speak explicitly (ex professo) of merit
(Chap. XVI.), and it is roundly asserted that eternal life is at
the same time fulfilment of the promise and reward, inasmuch
as ultimately all depends only on "good works" ("bene
operari ") : " and so to those -^ho perform good works on to the
end, and who hope in God, there is to be offered eternal life,
both as grace mercifully promised to the sons of God througli
Christ Jesus, and as a reward to be faithfully rendered, in terms
of the promise of God Himself, to their good works and
merits" ^ But in order to remove from this view the appearance
of self-righteousness, there follows a highly- pitched explanation
which is Augustinian, and even goes beyond Augustine. " For
since Christ Jesus continually pours virtue into the branches, a
virtue which always precedes, accompanies, and follows their
good works, and without which their good works could on no
account be well-pleasing and meritorious before God, it must be
believed that nothing further is lacking to the justified in order
to its being held that by their good deeds, which are wrought in
God, they have fully satisfied the divine law as regards their

' " Atque ideo bene operantibus usque in linem et in deo sperantibus proponends
csl vita Externa, el: Umqua,ni gratia Gitis dei per Chrislum Jesum misericorditei pro-
missa, et lamquam merces ex ipsius dei promissione bonis ipsonira operibus ei
mcrilis fideliter rcddendi."

HISTORV OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IL

state in this life, and have truly merited also the attainment of
life eternal in its time, provided only they depart this life in
grace . . . thus neither is our own righteousness set down as of
our own origination, nor is the righteousness of God ignored or
repudiated. For the righteousness that is called our own,
because we are justified through its inhering in us, is at the
same time the righteousness of God, because it is infused into
us by God through the merit of Christ Nor must it be kept
out of view that although in Holy Scripture there is so much
attributed to good works that even to him who shall give to one
of the least of His a cup of cold water, Christ promises that he
shall not lose his reward . . . yet there must be no thought
whatever of a Christian man's confiding or glorying in himself
and not in the Lord, whose goodness toward all men is so great,
that He wills that what are His gifts should be their merits."'
If we might understand the Decree as meaning that all that it
says of Justification is to be taken as relating to approval in the
last judgment, or if we might introduce the evangelical notion
of faith where it speaks of " faith " and " good works," we could
very well make it the basis of conference with the Catholics.
The correct interpretation of it, however, is that which lies not
in the direction of Protestantism, but in the direction of the
prevailing use and wont of the Roman Church, as is proved by
the propositions regarding the " disposing of one's self for grace "

1 "Cum enim ille ipse Christus Jesus lamquam caput in membra el lamquam vitts
in palmites, in ipsos justificalos jugiter virtutem iniluat, quae virtus bona eorum operB i
semper anteceilil, comitatur eC sabsequitur, et sine qua nuUn facto deo grata et {
meritoTia esse possent, nihil ipsis justificatis Hmpliua deesse ciedendiim est, quon ~
plene illjs quidem operibus, qus in deo sunt Tacta, divine tegi pro hujus vitse statu
sitisrecisse el vilam Leteinam suo etiam letnpore. si tamen in gratia decesserint, con-
sequendam verc promcruisse censeantui . . . ita nequc propria nostra justitia ti
quam ex nobis propria statuitur, neque ignoratur aut repudiatur justitia dei. Qua ]
enim juslilia nnstra dicilur, quia per earn nobis inh^erentum justiRcamui, ilia ei
dei esl, quia a deo nobis iofunditur per Chhsti meritum. Neqae vero illud omitlen-
dum est. quod licet bonis operibus in sacria litteria usque adeo tribualur, ut elian
uni e\ iDinimis suis potum aquie frigida: dederit, promittat Cbristus eum non ess
mercede caritnrum . . . absit tamen, ut Chtistianus homo in se ipso vel confidat vel '
glorietur et non in domino, cujus taitla est erga omnes homines bonitas, ut ei
velit esse merita, quas sunt ipsius dona. "

CHAP, 11.] CODIFICAjrON OF MEDI/EVAL DOCTRINES. 71

("se disponere ad gratiam ") and the thirty-three appended
anathematisms,'

The Decrees had the effect of binding the Catholic Church to
the soi! of the Middle Age.s and of Scholasticism, and, at the
yame time, of fencing it off from Protestantism ; but as the
formulations adopted were ambiguous in all the questions to
whicii the Church itself cannot wish an unmistakable answer,
the necessary freedom of development was preserved in spite of
the huge burden of dogmatic material. To this there was
added, that the important doctrines about the Church and
about the Pope were not touched — through stress of circum-
stances they had to be left aside ; but this corrtpulsory reticence
proved in subsequent times to be extremely favourable to the
papacy. The medieval Church went forth from the Council of
Trent as still substantially the ancient Church. It still included
within it the great discords between world-renunciation and
world-dominion, Sacrament and morality, and precisely through
these'discords it asserted that elasticity and many-sided net-s
which admitted of its holding within it such Cardinals as
Richelieu and Borromeo, and enabled it to retain in connection
with itself all obedient spirits. Its view was still so much
directed in the last resort to the world beyond, that for it the

I Of these anathematisma the first thiee are aimed at Felagianiam and Semi-
Pelagian ism, as is also (he Zand. The remaining ag all direct themselves, and that
loo with the greatest keenness, against Protestantism. What is most characteristic is
the rejeclion of the following propositions : — " Opera omnia, qure antejustificationem
fiunt, quacumque lalione facta sint, vereesse peccatavel odium dei mereri, autquantO
vchementins quis nititur se disponere ad gratiam, tanto eum gravius peccarc" (7).
" Gehenna: melum, per queni ad misericardiam dei de peccatis dolendo confugimus
vel a peccato abslinemus, peccalum esse " (3). " Homines justificari vel sola impii-
latione justJtiEB Christi vel sola peccatorum remissione exdusa giatia et caritate, qua;
in cordibus eorum per spiritum sanctum diffundatur atque illis inh:creal, aut eliam
gratiam, qua justificanur, esse tantum favorem dei" (11). " Fidem justificantem
nihil aliad esse quara fidadam divin^e miserlcordiie peccata remittendis projjttr
Christum, vel earn fiduciam siilam esse, qua justiRcamur " (12). " Hominein a
peccatis absolvi ac justificari ex eo quod se absolvi ae justilicari certo credat, aul
neminem vete esse justiScatum nisi qui credat se esse justificatum, et hac
sola fide absolutionem et juslificationem perfici" {14). "Nihil prieceptum esse
in evauRelio pncter fidem" (19). " Hominem justiticatum teneri tanlum
ad ercdendum, quasi vero evnngelium sit nuda et absolula promissio vila:
ietemK sine condiiione obseivalionis raandatorum " (20). " Justitiam acceptnm

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

enthusiast, wearing away his life in voluntary poverty, was the
greatest saint : but at the same time it preached to men, that
all its ideals lay hid in the visible ecclesiastical institution, and
that obedience to the Church was the highest virtue. It had
still no other thought than that beliei'mg is equivalent to " being
Catholic," and consists in the willingness to hold as true (or,
the willingness not to meddle with) incomprehensible doctrines.
The restlessness that still remained here it sought partly to
soothe away, partly to stimulate, by mean.s of the Sacraments,
the indulgences, the Church service, and the ecclesiastical
directions for mystico- monastic discipline.

(2) The Main Features of tlu Dogmatic Develofitnent in Catholic-
ism during the period between 1563 and 1870, as preparing
the way for the Decrees of the Vatican.

During the three centuries between the Council of Trent and
the Council of the Vatican three great controversies stirred the
Catholic Schools, and even became extremely dangerous to the
whole Church. At Trent the opposing positions in which they
took their rise were concealed ; just for that reason a discussion

non canservari atque etjam non augeTJ corn.in deo pei buna opera, sed opera ipsa
fructus solumTDodo el signa esse justificalionis adeptte, non aulem ipsius augendse
causam " (24). " In quolibet bono opere justum sultem venialiler peccare nut raor-
taliter, atque ideo piEnas a^ternas mereri tantumque ob id non damnari, quia deus e*
opera non imputel ad damnalionem " <2S). " Jnstos non debere pro lionis operibos
eispectare et speraie ^ternam retribulionem " (l6). " Nullum esse morlale pecca^
turn nisi infidelkatis " (27). " Sola lide amissam justiliam recuperari sine sacrameato
psenitentise " (29). " Justificaluni peccare, dutn intuitu screrns mercedis bene
operatur" (31). The Canones conclude with the words, " Si quis dixerit, per hanc
doctrinam (seil. by this Decree) aliqua es parte gloriie dei vel meritis Jesu Cbristi
demgari et non putius veritatem fidei nostne, dei denique ac Christi Jesa gloriaia
lUustrari, anathema sit." It cannot be denied thai lo some extent the piopositioiis
of Protestantism, which are condemned in the Canons, undei^o adjustment ; on the
other hajid, raany weak points in the Protestant dectriae are hit npon ; but certainly
the clearest impression we receive is that the Tridentine Fathers bad no understand-
ing whatever of what Luther meant by the righteousness of God, faith, and the for-
giveness of sins. He bore witness of the religion which had opened to his view in
the gospel, and which governed and blessed hira as an indivisible power ; they sought
to do justice at once to many points of view, religion, morality, the Sacrament, and
the Church.

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1 563 TO 187O.

of them in the times that followed was inevitable. There was
(i) the controversy between Curialism and Episcopalism, which
parted into two questions, (d) ivhether the bishops had indepen-
dent, divine rights apart from the Pope (and, in the Council,
rights superior to the Pope), {b) whether tradition was to be
understood in the sense of Vincentius of Lerinum, or whether
the Pope was to be held as determining what is to be regarded
as tradition ; (2) the controversy between Augustinianism and
the Jesuitic (Scotistic) Pelagianism ; (3) the controversy re-
garding Probabilism. These three controversies had the closest
inward connection with each other ; at bottom they formed a
unity, and on that account also the Vatican Council decided all
three at one stroke. The party distinguished by its Curialistic,
Pelagian, and Probabilistic, tendency proved the victor.

(i) {a) The original Curialistic outline of the position of the
Pope in the Church, which made the Pope the lord of the
Church, and declared the bishops assistants, whom Christ's
governor adopts " for purposes of oversight " (" in partem
sollicitudinis ") could not be established at Trent. The recol-
lections of the Council of Constance were, in spite of the Bull
of Leo X. " Pastor £eternus," still too vivid. But neither could
the contrary doctrine, that the Council stood above the Pope,
and that every bishop, as a successor of the Apostles, had his
power from Christ, be raised to a dogma. The sharply-opposed
theses, "the Pope is the bishop, the universal bishop, the
governor for Christ," and "the bishops have their power origni-
ally from Christ, so that the Pope is only primus inter pares,
representative of the unity of the Church, and custodian of its
external order and uniformity," could in no way be reconciled.
Hence the decision of this question at Trent had to be delayed.
But owing to small observations interspersed throughout the
text of the Tridentine decisions, and owing especially to the
prominence given to the "ecclesia Romana,"^ a bias was
already given to the question in favour of the Curialists,
But what was bound to have an incomparably greater effect
was that the Council, hurrying in a precipitate way to a close,

' See also Sess. 6 de reform c. 1, where the Pope \i, sLyled " Ipsius de

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

not only left entirely in the hands of the Pope the confirmation
of its Decrees and the adoption of measures for carrying them
out, but even quietly accepted the Bull in which the Pope
reserved the exposition of the Decrees exclusively to himself.^

The " Professio," which appeared immediately thereafter,
mislcadingly styled the " Professio Fidei Tridentinae," set the
seal to this modification of the Tridentine Decrees, in so far as
it included obedience to the Pope within " faith " itself.* The
way in which Rome manipulated the Professio from that time
fohward, and by means of it brought all bishops under subjec-
tion to itself, was a master-strolie of Curialistic politics. The
Catechismus Romanus also, which the Pope took occasion from
the Council to order and approve, was favourable to Curialism,
although on the ground of its Thomistic doctrine of grace it
was inconvenient to the Jesuits, who, on that account, attempted
indeed to contest its authority.* Yet, leaving out of viewi
isolated steps that were taken in all Catholic countries, therCj

iSeeKdUner, l.c.pp. ri6ff.

"See Kbllner, I.e., pp. 141-165. Tl
fiiith ( I), run thus : " Sanctam catholjcam
ecclcaiarum malrera et magistram ailgno:
lolorum principis successori ac Jesu Chi

e words of the Professio,

et apostolicam Romanam ecclesiam

CO, Rottianoque Ponlifici, beati Petri apos-

isti vicaiio, veiam obedientiain spondeo ac.

^ See Kiillner, i.e., pp. 166-190. On the atlaclis of ihe Jesuits on the Catechismf
see p. 188, and Kocher, Katech.-Gcsch., pp. 127 ff, ; they sought to show, not merelr'
Ihat it was partisan, but thit it was heretical also. The result of the attacks hft«
been that the Catechism has been forced into the background in more recent limeg .
The sections of it bearing upon the Church are strictly Thomistic. and thcreTow
favourable to papal autocracy. Thus, in P. I., c. lo, q. 10, the unity of the Chnrcflj
is proved from Ephes. IV. 5, and then it is further said : " Unus est etiam ejus rector,
ae gubenia.tor, invisibilis quidem Chiistus, quern Kternus pater dedit caput saptt
omnem ecclesiam, qure eat corpus ejus ; visibiUs autem is, qui Romanam cathedram, ,
Petri aposlolorum principis legilimus successor, tenet." It would have been impos-
sible to secure general recognition of a. proposition of this kind at Tient. In Q. 11.
there then follows a wocdy statement about the Pope, in which he is not described at^
represenlatiue of the unity of the Church and as its aulviard guide, but rather;
" necessarium futl hoc visibile caput ad unitatem ecclesiam comtiltiendam
dam." A still further step is represented by the words : *' Ut Chiisti
singulorum sacrameotonim nou solum auctorem, sed intimum etiam
habemus — nam ipse est, qui baptizat et qui absolvit,

hominem s

I is homines socia.
sia?, quam ipse intimo spiritu regit,
pifefccit ; nam cum visibilis ecclcsia

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1 563 TO 1870. 75

arose in France a powerful movenrient against Curialism, quite
independent of Jansenism. France, indeed, never fully recog-
nised the Tridentinum in a formal way, although in point of
fact the Tridentine system of doctrine asserted itself among the
clergy, and even among the Church authorities. From the end
of the sixteenth century (Henry IV.), but, above ali, during the
reign of Louis XIV., the Church of France, in its most impor-
tant representatives (Bos suet), went back with decision to
" Gallicanism." Yet the po.sitive programme was far from being
clear. Some were opponents of Curialism in the interest of the
unlimited power of their king, others in the interest of their
nation, others, again, from their being E pis copal ists. But what
did Episcopalism aim at? It had no greater clearness about
itself in the seventeenth century than in the fifteenth. There
was the admission that there belonged to the Pope a supremacy
of rank ("suprematus ordinis "), but there was no common
agreement as to whether this " suprematus " meant only the
first place inter pares, or whether real prerogatives were con-
nected with it. If there was a deciding for the latter, it was
doubtful, again, whether these prerogatives were equivalent to a
"cura ecclesia: universalis" committed to the Pope. If this was
certain, the questions had again to be asked, whether he could
exercise this cura only while consulting and co-operating with
all the bishops, and what measures were to be adopted with the
view of guarding the bishops against papal encroachments.
The fixed point in the Episcopalist theory was simply this, that
the bishops were not appointed by the Pope, that they were
therefore not delegates and representatives of the Pope, but
ruled their dioceses independently "jure divino," that the Pope
consequently could exercise no direct power of jurisdiction in
their dioceses. But how that could be united with the " supre-
matus ordinis " of the Pope remained vague. It was clear also
that an autocratic power of the Pope (infallibility, univer.sal
episcopy) was rejected, and that the Council was regarded as
superior to the Pope ; yet there was a vagueness as to the
meaning to be attached to the position that was admitted, that
the Pope stands at the head of the Council. These difficulties,
however, finally issued in somewhat definite formulse, namely,

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. n.

in the four Propositions of the Galilean Church (1862), '^ which
have more of a Church-and-State than an Episcopalist char-
acter : (i) In temporal matters the princes are subject to no
ecclesiastical power, and can be neither directly nor indirectly
deposed ; no power over temporal and civil affairs has been
committed by God to the successors of Peter. (3} The Pope
possesses, certainly, the " full power in spiritual things " (" plei
potestas spiritLialium rerum "), yet in such a way "that the I
decrees of the sacred tecumenical Synod of Constance regarding I
the authority of general Councils are at the same time valid I
and remain undisturbed" ;^ the Galilean Church disapproves of I
those " who impair the force of those decrees, as if they were of
doubtful authority and were less fully ratified, or who twist
them into being merely deliverances of a Council for a time of
schism."^ (3) The Pope, in the exercise of his power, is bound
by the Canons, and must also have respect to the rules, customs
and arrangements adopted in France. (4) The Pope has, no
doubt, the highest authority {? partes) in matters of faith, and
his decrees apply to all Churches and every Church in particular ;

' See Collect. Lacensis I., p. 793. An. " Galliitanische Freiheilen " in Wetaer
unil Welte's Kirchenlex, and ed. V., p. 66 ff. A century earlier Pithou(i594) gave
an account of the liberties of the French Church, and already laid down the two funda-
mental rules, that the Pope (1) has no voice in France in regard to civil and temporal
matters, and that (2) in spiritual matters he is bound by the decisions of the Councils,
and therefore by those of Constance also. These ideas were brought, as an ecclesi-
astico- political programme, before King Henry IV., when he ascended the lliroae, <
with the view of inaugurating Slate-Catholicism. See Mejer, Febronius (iSSo), p. 30)4
" Under the protection of the Bourbons, who made the Gallican theory their own, r
there flourished throughout the whole of Romanic Europe a rich literature in sappoit 'I
of it : Peter de Marca, Thomassin, Bossuel, are names that will not be forgottea so I
loi^ as there is a jurisprudence of ecclesiastical law. The scientific method of tliic '\
Gallican Episcopidism differs from that of the fifteenth century especially in
things — first, in its deriving its proof from the history of law, a mode of proof that 1
originated in France with the Hamanistic jurisprudence of Cujacius, and set itself to
describe the Church constilnlion of the first centuries with the view of declaring the
Inter constitution an abuse ; secondly, in this, that in connection therewith, and also \
with the traditional French practice, it vindicated for the French King somewhat tha !
same ruling ecclesiastical power as the Roman Emperor possessed according to the \
Justinian books of laws."

* " Ut siniul valeant atque immola consistant S. GCcunienicie Synodi ConstantiensiB '
decreta de auctoritate conciliorum generalium."

' " Qui eorum decretorum, quasi dubiie sint auctoritatis ac minus approbata, robur
infringant, aut ad solum schismatis tempus concilii dicta detorqueant. "

CHAP. ir.J CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1S70. 77

" slill, his decision is not incapable of reform, unless the assent of
the Church has been added."^

These propositions were rejected, first by Innocent X., then
by Alexander VIII., as entirely worthless and invalid.^ Yet
that would have been of little avail had not the all-powerful
king, hemmed in by Jansenists and Jesuits, and ever and anon
distressed about his soul's salvation, himself abandoned them.
He very really betrayed himself and the Church of his country
to the Pope, without formally withdrawing the four articles.
In point of fact these rather remained in force during the
eighteenth century, that is, the French clergy were for the most
jiart trained in them, and thought and acted in accordance with
them. But as the eighteenth century was passing into the
nineteenth, a second monarch completed the betrayal
of the French Church to the Pope — the same monarch who
formally recognised the Gallican Articles and raised them to
the place of a State-law — Napoleon I. The way in which the
French Church and the French Church-order, really degraded
already by the Revolution,^ was, zuith t/ie conse?it of the Pope,
completely demolished by Napoleon, so that, with a disregard
of all traditional order and right, he might reconstruct this
Church in league ivith the Pope (Concordat of 1801), was an
abandonment of the French Church to Curialism. This was
not certainly Napoleon's idea. What he wished was to be
master of the Church of his country, and the Pope, whom he
had in his grasp, was, as high priest, to be his useful instrument.
But he had not considered that Western Catholicism no longer
allows any secular ruler to be forced upon it, and he had re-
garded his own political power as invincible. Of his original
intentions, therefore, nothing was realised, save the reducing to
ruins of the old, relatively independent, French Episcopal
Church. He thus laid the foundation of the French Ultramon-

1 " Nee tamiii irrefennabilc cue Judkiain, niyi eidesia consemus accenerit."

'-' See the strong coademtiatioD in Denzinger, Lc, p. 239 f.

' Tha.t this degradation, and the reconstructian by means of the Civil ConstiCudon
given to the clergy, were already favourable to the future Curialistic development of
Catholicism has been recently shown by Ltnz in an able essay on tlie Catholic
Church and the French Revolution (in the JonrnHl Cosmopolis, 1st year, 2nd
numbi;t).

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CIIAP. IL

tane Church (without knowing or intending it, the Assembly
of 1789, in drawing up the Constitution, had prepared the way
for this), and after the tyrant had been overthrown, Pius VII.
knew very well what thanks he owed him. Romanticism (de
Maistre, Bonald, Chateaubriand, Lacordaire, etc.) and the
Restoration, in conjunction with the Jesuits, completed the
work ; nay, even agitations for political freedom had to fall to
the advantage of the Curia.' But, above all, the writings of de
Maistre (" On the Pope "), in which the Catholic spirit of the
Middle Ages, the spirit of St. Thomas, learned to speak in new
tongues (even in the language of Voltaire and Rousseau), con-
tributed to bury out of view Gallicanism and Episcopallsm.
The great Savoyard, who introduced the Ultramontane
" aper^u " into the writing of history, became the instructor of
Gorres ; but he found a follower also in that boldest of all
publicists, L. Veuillot, who understood how to recommend to
the French clergy and their following as divine truths even the
most audacious paradoxes. At the present day France, even
Republican France, is the main support of Catholicism, of the
Catholic propaganda and of Ultramontanism ; the French have
become the Normans of the modern papacy.-

In Germany the Episcopalist agitations were of little account
till the middle of the eighteenth century. But at that time
they broke out most powerfully in the work of the Suffragan
Bishop, Nicolas von Hontheim (Febronii de statu ecclesi^ et
legitima potestate Romani Pontificis, 1763). Different lines

' Yet see the firm rejection of the positions of Lammennais by Gregory XVI. in
ihe years 1832 and 1834 (Denzinger, I.e., p. 310 f.). Indifferentism and the demand |
for freedom of conscience are iiere placed upon the same level : " Ei hoc putidissi
indifferenlismi fonle ahsurda ilia fluit ac enonea sententia seu polius deliramoitum, .
asserendam esse ac vindicandam cuilibet libertatem conscientire. Cui quidem pesti-
lentissimo errori viam slemit plena ilia atque immoderata libertas opinionnio, q
in sacrfe et dvilis rei labem late grassatur, dictitantibus per summam impndentiain J
nonnullis, aliquid ex ea commodi in religionem promanare."

^On the development of the French National Church into an Ultramontane Church, I
see Mejer, Zur Gesch. der riimisch-deutschen Frage, Vol. I.; Friedrich, Oesch. de> I
vatilt. Concils, Vol I.; Nielsen, Die Rom. K. im 19. Jahrh. Vol. I. (German, bf '
Nichelsen) ; the same author, Aus dem innerem Lcben der Kalhol. Kirche im 15 '
Jahrh., Vol. I. ; Nippold, Haxidbuch der nenesten K.-Gesch. 3rd ed.. Vols. 1
and II.

CHAP. 11.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO lS;o.

converge in this boolt : Gallicanism, the natural-right theories
regarding the State which had originated with Hugo Grotius
(and the Roman-law theories regarding the emperor or the
sovereign), the Dutch Humanism. Hontheim had studied at
Louvain. The teachers there, who were under the influence of
Van Espen, had taught him that Catholic and Papist were not
the same thing, and that the actually existing state of papacy
in Germany could not cancel the original order of things, which
was involved in the divinely ordained Episcopal office on the
one hand, and in the natural rights of the State on the other,'
The primacy had only a human-historical development ; the
Church was really represented and led by the Council, to which
the Pope is subject. This state of things, which rested on the
divinely ordained apostolicity and equality of all bishops as
rulers of the Church, must again be established. In the end
Hontheim let himself be forced to retract. But his ideas con-
tinued to have influence, though not exactly in the direction he
had intended. He was more a Galilean and an Episcopalist
than a representative of the natural right of the State, which, in
the eighteenth century, was becoming modified into the absolute
right of the prince. But the ecclesiastical Electors who adopted
his thoughts were interested in them primarily as sovereigns,
only in a secondary way as bishops. This turn of things was
disastrous. The Ems Punctation (1786),* the occasion of which
was the grievance about the Nuncios, could not hold out any
promise to the emperor and the sovereigns, who did not wish
an independent Episcopal church, but a State Church in the
strictest sense of the term. The opposition, hitherto concealed,
between Episcopalism and State Churchism necessarily came to
be al! the more strongly expressed, from the great bishops
themselves, in their own interest, passing over to adopt the
State Church thoughts. Owing to this opposition, and also to
the divided state of Germany and the rivalry between Prussia
and Austria, what was undertaken at Ems very rapidly proved
a failure. Never, certainly, since the days of Constance and

tSeeMejer,l.c,p. 20 f. ; cf. also, H. Schraid, Gi
>. d Mine des 18 Jahrh. I., p. i ff.
' On ihis, see Kollner, I.e. I., p. 430 ff.; Schmid,

:Ii. der Kalhol. K. Deutschlands
I-, p. IS ff.

80 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. U. i

B^le, was the sovereignty of the bishops and the unimportant
position of the Pope more boldly formulated within Catholicism
than by the German bishops at Ems a hundred years ago. But
it was a childish illusion of the " philosophical " age to imagine
that a structure like that of the papacy could be overthrown by
decrees like those of Ems, and it was a vast deception to believe
that Roman Catholicism was really weary of life, and had given
final proof of its weakness by being forced to suppress the
Jesuits. In the storm of the Revolution it became apparent
that the old lion still lived, and in their alarm the princes then
hastened to impart to it on their side still more vigour. The col-
lapseof the Imperial Church, with which the State Church of Joseph
II. alsodisappeared,' was a fortunate occurrence for Rome. How
t lie Curia succeeded in suppressing what remained of Episcopalist
and State Church thought in Germany, in constructing the
Church anew by means of concordats, and in gradually training
for itself an Ultramontane Episcopate and an Ultramontane
-clergy, after the National Church tradition had, as in France,
been abolished ; how in this work there co-operated not only the
Jesuits, but above all the princes, the Romanticists, and the un-
suspecting Liberals — has been fully narrated quite recently.'
The Vatican Decrees were the culmination of this development.*
(i) {b) Their opposition to the Protestant principle of Scrip-
ture, and the Impossibility of really furnishing traditional proof

iCf. K. Muiler in Herzog's R.-E., 2Qded., Art. " Josefinismus "; on the Synod i
of Pistoja undei the direction of Ricci, see in the same work the article by Benralh.
Against the adviser of Joseph II,, the Canonist Eybel, who hud made amost startling J
impression with his book, " Was ist der Papst," see the Breve of Pius VI., " Supet I
solidale" (Denzinger, l.c, p. 273).

> See the accounts by Mejer, Scbmid, Nielsen, Friedrich, Nippold. We also pos- J
scss excellent accounts of the history of the Catholic Church of the nineteenth c
tury in separate German countries. Future hisloiians will compare the advance of 1
Romaiiism in our century with that in the eleventh century ; it is more powerhil at
any rale than that of the Counter- Reformation. See also Hase, Polemik, 3rd ed.,
isl Book.

3 How little ability there was even in the year 1S44 to forecast on the Protestant 1
ade the development of the papal system into thedoctrbeofinfellibilily is shown by I
a. remark of Kijllner (I.e., p. 426), whose " Symbolik" cannot be charged with failiiM ' j
to do justice to the Roman Church. "Quite unecclesiastical, and su^estive only of flje J
fanaticism of particular Jesuits, is the view of the Pope in the Confessio Hungarica. 1
Evangelis proposita. '. . . Papam caput esse ecclesiiCBefffTafe/orre.' "

CHAl'. H.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1870. 81

fur many doctrines and usages, led the Catholic theologians in
the period that followed (i) to subordinate Scripture in an ever
increasing degree to tradition, (2) to utilise more fully the dis-
tinction drawn by the Tridentirium between two kinds of
tradition (see above), as a distinction giving a title to regard
some traditions as subject to no higher standard.^ As regards
the first point, Jesuits in particular had done so much with their
Rabbinic art in the way of planing all round the dogma of
inspiration, and had produced so many different views of that
dogma, that in the end almost nothing remained of it. Perrone,
who enumerates all these forms in his dogmatic, mentions also
the last, according to which inspiration does not imply a
miraculous origination of Scripture, but is to be held as only
meaning that the Holy Ghost has subsequently (in the Church)
borne witness to the inerrancy of Scripture.^ Yet this theory,
maintained by the Jesuits Lessius and Hamel (1586), did not
succeed certainly in establishing itself; nay, the Vaticanum
rejected it by declaring (Constit. de fide c. 2): "But the Church
holds those books as sacred and canonical, not because, hating
been composed by human industry alone, they were then
authenticated by its authority, nor only because they contain
revelation free from error, but because, being written under the
inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they have God for their author,
and have been handed down as such to the Church itself."^
This formulation still leaves room certainly for a lax view of
inspiration (" assistentia positiva"); but on the other hand, it

' Cf. Holtzmann, Kanon und Tradilian, 1859. J. Delilzsch, Lehrsystem d. riim.
K., I., p. 29S ff- Haae, I.e., pp. 63 ff. The Professio fidei TridentinEE hadalready
taken B great step beyond the Tridentinum, inaSTnuch as it substituted the following
for the Tridentine distinction between the tradiliones h Christo and the traditiones ab
apostolis : — " Apostolicas et ecdesiasticas traditiones reliquasqueejusdem ecclesix ob-
servationes et constituliones Gnnissime admillo et anipleetor." There is thus intro-
duced here an entirely new leiminology, a circumstance to which Holtzmann was the
first atrongly to direct attention (p. 253). It is only aitet this that mention is Bret
made in the Professio of Holy Scripture !
■I Prelect, theol. Roma: ( 1840-42, Paris, 1842), Chap. II. , p. 1082 sq.
* " Eo5 libros vero ecclesia pro sacris et canonicis habcl, non ideo, quod sola
humana. industria concinnati sua deinde nuctoritate sint comprobati, nee ideo dum-
taxat, quod revelalionein sine enore contineant, sed propteiea quod Spiritu 5.
inspiranle conscript! deuni faabent auctorem atque ut tales ipsi ecclesia: traditi sunt."

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

is assuredly in the interests of Catholicism, apart from its op-
position to Protestantism, that all that has been handed down
as in the strictest form holy should be also preserved by it as
such. The lax view, as is well known, made it possible that
there should be the beginnings of an historic criticism of the
Bible in the seventeenth century (Richard Simon). Yet the
advantages derived from being able to think of one's self as a
man of science are so seriously counterbalanced by the draw-
backs which even the mildest criticism has for the Church, that
even the most decided traditionalists — who have really no need
for the Bible at all — prefer to content themselves with the mere
appearance of Bible criticism.' What came to have much
lieeper influence than this anti-Protestant mock fight about the
Bible, was the further shaping of the notion of tradition in the
post-Tridentine development. This course of formulation came
to a head in the utterance of the first infallible Pope, the authen-
ticity of which, so far as I know, has not been called in question
— "The tradition is I" — after MohleV had in vain sought to
recAncile the Catholic notion of tradition with history and
criticism.

As early as the seventeenth century the controversialists, in
opposing Chemnitz, who had attacked the Roman "dis-
putationes dc traditionibus " as " pandects of errors and super-
stitions," laid special stress on the ecclesiastical traditions.
As a matter of fact, in the time that followed, the Tridentine
distinction between "traditiones a Christo" and ■' traditiones
ab apostolis " almost entirely disappeared^t was handed over
to the Schools ; on the other hand the distinction of the Pro-
fessio between "traditiones apostolic^e " and "traditiones
ecclesiastics " became fundamental. Bcllarmin was still timid in
turning to account the ecclesiastical traditions; he still sought
for the mo.st part to reach his point by means of the Tridentine
definition, and treated the ecclesiastical traditions disparagingly ;
yet the future principle of tradition, which quite sets itself above
history, as well as above the Church Fathers, was already for- 1

' Such an appeaiancB is very easily produced at the present day by letting tllQ a
tiaditioD abuQt the Bible stand, while there is entwined around il a wieath furnished I
by readings in Eeyp'o'i^Eyi A&synolt^y, and Greek and Roman literature.

CHAP. H.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1870.

mulated with admirable clearness by Cornelius Mussus, formerly
a member of the Tridentine Council: " For my part, to speak
frankly, I would have more reliance regarding those things that
touch the mysteries of faith upon one supreme pontiff than
upon a thousand Augustines, Jeromes, and Gregories."' There
belongs to this connection also the remark of the Jesuits, which
has almost a naive rin<; about it, " the more recent teachers are,
the clearer they are" ("quo j'uniores, eo perspicaciores esse
doctores ").^ It was the Jesuits entirely who put an end to the
old notion of tradition represented by Cyprian and Vincentius,
and secured a hold for a new one, which for a long time, cer-
tainly, was really dominant, but is the opposite of the o!d. The
unqualified deliverance that the Chu rch receives new revelations
through the Pope was certainly avoided by cautious theologians
of dogma ;^ yet for such a deliverance there was substituted
the simple assertion, that "traditio ecclesiastica " is just that
which the Church (the Pope) has formulated as an article of
faith. How seriously this was held is apparent from the urgent
directions, not to be in anxiety about the traditional proof
(from history) in support of any more recent dogma ; even that
is certain and original Church doctrine for which no proof can be
furnished, if it is in force as Church doctrine.* In this connection
are meant to be estimated the depreciatory judgments on the
Councils that were pronounced in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries by the Jesuits, as also the freedom of the criticism
applied to the Church Fathers. The Roman Church cannot, of
course, part with the Councils, as little as with any other article
of its venerable house-furnishings ; but it has no longer a real
interest in them, and although during- the course of two centuries

1 " Ego, ut iDEcnue fntcar, plus uni sutiimo pontiiici ctederem in his, quie fidei my-
steria Ungunl, quam mille Auguslinis, Hietonymia, Gtegoriis."
3 Passages tu be found in Holtzmann, p. 267.

* Yet testimonies could be gathered to show that in authoritative quarters Iheie was
no hedtalion in making such statements as that this or Ibat bad not yet been levealed
to the Church.

* Of course the historical proof is a beautiful adornment, but it is nolhing more ;
nay, the undertaldng lo prove is even held as not without danger. One who uiidet-
takes to prove anything is not sure that the proof wiii be perfectly successful, and
that it will make an impression.

84 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

it has called to order more than one Jesuit who has recklessly
handled the rea/ tradition, it cannot but be pleased when now
and again it appears that on closer inspection everything in
history show.s signs of uncertainty and is full of errors and
forgeries. What have the Jesuits and their friends not taught
us in this respect for two hundred years ! The letters of
Cyprian falsified, Eusebius falsified, numberless writings of the
Church Fathers interpolated, the Constantinopolitan Symbol
falsified by the Greeks, the Councils convoked contrary to the
intentions of Rome, the Acts of the Councils falsified, the Decrees
of the Councils of no account, the most venerable Church
Fathers full of heterodox views and without authority — only
one rock in this ocean of error and forgery, tAe chair of Peter,
and, making itself heard through history, only one sure note
incapable of being mi.su nderstood, the testimony to the infalli-
bility of tlu successor of Peter. And yet^the Pope is infallible
even without this testimony ; the Church itself is the living
tradition; the Church, however, is the Pope. Nothing changes
in the Church, although it itself continually changes;^ for when
any change is made by the Church (the Pope), it receives at
once a certificate of antiquity, which carries it back to the time
of the Apostles. The Pope can, at the present day, formulate a
newdogma, and this was done by him in the year 1854 with regard
to the immaculate conception of Mary, although one of his pre-
decessors had declared that "the eternal wisdom had not yet
disclosed the depths of this mystery to the Church," Much,
therefore, may still lie hidden in the womb of the future, which
the eternal wisdom will reveal to the Popes who are to come-
but according to the terms of the Ultramontane dogmatic, new '
revelations do not take place.

As compared with the conception of tradition that is accepted
at the present day, how tame the Tridentine Decree regarding
tradition appears ! It sounds already in our ears like a legend \
of the olden time : "that truth and discipline are contained in I
the Scriptures and in the unv^-ritten traditions which have come

' See the unguarded saying of Aichbishop Scherr, of Munich, in reply to Dtillinger,
" Vooknow that there have always been changes in the Church and initsdoeti'
D Ftiedrich, Tagebuch, and ed., p. 410 f.

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1870. 85

down to us as having been received by the Apostles from Christ's
own lips, or as being transmitted, as it were, from hand to hand
by the Apostles themselves, the Holy Spirit having dictated
them."' But unfortunately it cannot be asserted that this
principle has gradually developed itself into the principle ac-
cepted at the present day, for the latter was already in full force
in the second half of the sixteenth century. It merely did not
find expression, from the adverse force of circumstances (propter
angustias temporum). Just on that account no history of the
Roman conception of tradition from the Council of Trent to the
Council of the Vatican can be written ; there can only be
narratives furnished, which indicate the approaching complete
victory of the revolutionary principle of tradition over the older
principle.^ In this victory the de-Christianising and secularising
of the Christian religion in Catholicism became complete. The
Gnostic principle of tradition (secret apostolic tradition) and
the " enthusiastic " principle, against which the Old Catholic
principle was in its day set up, obtained entrance into the
Church, and established themselves there, under cover of the
latter. As judged strictly by the standard of the ancient Church
the doctrine of tradition in force at the present day is heretical,
because it is Gnostic and enthusiastic.^ But it is no longer
attached to an elastic fellowship, in which the conflicting factors
control and correct one another up to a certain point, but to a
single Italian priest, who possesses the authority, and in part
also the power, of the old Cssars. He is no longer checked by
any restriction that arises from the historic nature of the
Christian religion. Yet, hemmed in as he is by the cordon of
the sacred college, by the traditions of his chair, and by the
superstition of the faithful, he can scarcely formulate as a

I " Vi:rita1em el disci plinani contineri in libcjis Ecriptis et sine scriplis tradilionibus,
qti:t: all ipsius Christ! ore ab apostolis acceptu; aut a.b ipsis apostolis spirilu e. dictilante
quasi per manus traiiita; ad nos usque pen^enenlnt. '*

3 See the sections in Holtzmann, p. 31 T., 52 f., S3 f., 224 f., 231 f., 337 f., 2J0 f.,
260 f., a73t-i 283 f.

' Hence there is great accuracy in the Articles of Schmalkald, F. III., a. S (p. 321,
M^ler) : " Quid, quod eliam papatus simpliciter est merus entbusiasmus, tjuu papa
glorialur, omnia jura'esse in scrinio sui pectoris, etquidquid ipse in ecclesiasua senlit
et jubet, idspiritum et justum esse, etiamui sup la ct contra scriptnm et vocale verbunt
aliquid statuat et praecipial."

HISTORY OK DOGMA.

[CHAP. II.

" traditional article of faith," anything that has against it the
spirit of the thirteenth century or of the Counter-Reformation.'
(3) In the CatechJsmus Romanu.s, published in 1566 by
Pius v., the Thomist doctrine of grace, which had found only a
fragmentary expression at Trent, was very distinctly stated.
But this statement, so far as it was official, was the last of its
kind. The Catechismus Romanus represents the grave of a
doctrine which was maintained in the first half of the sixteenth
century by the best Catholics, It brought to completion the
Augustinian reaction, inasmuch as that reaction was not merely
tolerated, or, for that part, contested, in the Church, but was
recognised, and contributed very much to the regeneration of
Catholicism. From that time there arose a struggle against
Augustine, in which the " Churchmen " par excellence, the
Jesuits, took the leading part. This struggle was not to cease
till " the last enemy " lay on the field helpless, though not slain,
and the worldly practice of the confessional could prescribe to
dogmatic its law.'' Yet it would be unjust to assert that on the
one side laxity merely prevailed, on the other side religious
earnestness. In the ranks of the opponents of the Augustinians
there were also men of pure Catholic piety, while many of the
Augustinians struck out on courses which really diverged from
the Catholic ecclesiasticism.

The struggle about Augustinianism was waged, not in
Germany, but on Romanic and Belgian soil. The first stage
was represented by the names of Bajus and Molina.^ In

1 In this connection the lellet of advice 15 very interesting whicli Bellarmin addressed
to the Pope in the year 1602, see D<illinger, Beitrage III., p. 83, Dijlliiiger und
Reusch, Selbstbiogiaphie des Cardinalsi Bellarmin, p. 260. This great CtuialiKt ven*
lured — it was in a dogmatic question, no doubt, which concerned him very closely—
to take the upper hand with the Pope, and to remind hiiri thai he might not decide
the controversy on his own reiponsibility, otherwise there would be trouble both to
the Church and himself.

! Protestantism took almost no part whatever in this inner Catholic movement,
I,e3.ving dwindling exceptions out of view, the Catliolic Augustinians of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries adopted against Protestantism as decided an attitude of
apposition and self.defence as the representatives of the prevailing Church practice ;
nay, Augustine was even utilised with the view of being able to combat the Reforma-

' Linsemanti, Michael Bajus und die Grundlegung des Jansenism, t867. Schnee-
mann, Entstehung der thomistisch-moliDistischen Conlroverse (cf. also other relative

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1 563 TO 1870.

different writings and in his lectures, Bajus, Professor in
Louvain (1544-1589), without undertaking a strictly systematic
development, presented in a sharply definite way the Augustinian
doctrine of sin and unfreedom, with the view, not of coming to
terms with Protestantism, but of combating it. As early as
1560 the Sorbonne condemned a number of his propositions,
which were submitted to it in manuscript. Thereafter he was
arraigned before the Pope on the ground of smaller writings
which he had made public. Jesuits and Franciscans were hi*
enemies. They took offence above all at his unconditional
rejection of the doctrine of the immaculate conception of Mary.
In 1567 Pius V. issued the Bull " Ex omnibus afflictionibus,'
which, without mentioning Bajus' name, rejected, or at least
took objection to, 79 of his positions.' Only when he raised
difficulties against yielding was the Bull published. Twice over
was Bajus forced to retract, after the new Pope, Gregory XIII.,
had confirmed the adverse judgment of his predecessor. In
Bajus Augustine himself was struck at in the sharpest possible
way, though by means of the sentence, "although some opinions
might possibly be sustained on a certain understanding,"^ the
Curia had left a back door open for itself. A large number of
the propositions censured were, in form and content, Augustinian,
so that in their rejection the renunciation of the authority of the
great African was apparent. The main thoughts of Bajus were,^
([) that grace is always only grace through Jesus Christ,*
(2) that God could only create man good, and did create him
such, that, consequently, everything "naturally" good would
have fallen to him, had he continued in goodness, but that for

works of Ibis Jesuil). Serry, Hist, congreg. de auiiliis, L. Meyer, I
auxiliis, 2 vols., Dollinger und Reusch, Selbslbiographie Bellarm
Scheeben, Wetzer und Weite, and ed., ist vol., " Bajus."

1 " Quas quidem seotentias sliicto coram nobis examine ponderalas, yuaniguam
nonnulln aliqao facto suslmeri fiessenl, in ligote et proprio verborum sensu ab
assEitoribua intento hxieticas, enoneas, suspectas, temeiaiias, scandalo&as, el in pias
aures offensionem immitlentes respective . . . damnamus " ; see Densinger, I.e.,
p. ZOS.
^ *' (Juamqiiain nonnullx sententix aliquo pacto sustineri piesent."
» I pa^ over anything pecDliu lo him that has no relation to Auguslinianism or

156 ff.

HISTORV or DOGMA.

[CHAP. II.

that very reason the Fall entailed not only the loss of a " super-
added gift" ("donum superadditum "), but the entire rum of
human nature,^ (3) that through sin the will of man has become
unfree, and hence man must necessarily sin, though with his
will, is absolutely incapable of the good, and can produce
nothing good out of himself,^ (4) that accordingly all works of
unbelievers are sins, and the virtues of philosophers are vices,*
(s) that original sin is real sin, and this is not less true of con-
cupiscence/ (6) that all human beings, inclusive of Mary, are
sinners, and suffer death by reason of their sins,* (7) that in no
sense are there human merits in the sight of God ; God, rather,
anticipates all merit by changing the bad will into a good, and
thus producing Himself all good merits (through the merit of
Christ)." In the doctrines of justification and the Sacraments

1 See the Propos

I, 31, 23 : "Abaurda est eonim setilentia, qui dicunt,
nitio dono quodam supernalurali et gratuito, supra sonditionem uatune
Italum, ut lide, spe et caiitate deum supeniaturaliter colerel," 24, 26,

78-

' See the Propos. 20 ; " Nullum est peccatumex natura suaveniale, sedomne pecc&-
tum meretur pccnacn sternam." 27 : '* IJberura arbitrium sine gratis dei adjuCorio
nonnisi ad peccandum valet," 28, yi, 35, 37, 39; " Qaod voluntarie fit etiamsi
neces&ario fit, libera tamen tit." 40, 41 ; " Is libertati^ modus qui esl a necessitate,
sub libertalis nomine non reperilur in scriptuiis, sed solum iiomen liberatis a peccato."
46 : " Ad rationem el definitionem peccati non petlinet voluntarium, nee definitionis
qnseslio est, sed causie et ariginis, utrum omne peccatuni debeat esse volantarium."

65, 67.

■ See Propos. 25 : " Omnia opera infidelium sunt peccata et philosophonim virtntes

*See Propos. 47 : "Peccatum originis vere habet rationem peccati 5ine uUa ratione
ac tespectu ad voluntatem, a qua origLnem habuit." 48, 49, 51 : " Concupiscent! a
et prava ejus desideria, quae inviti sentiunt homiues, sunt vera legis inobedienlia."
52. 53. 74, 75. 76.

' See Propos. 73 ; " Nemo prater Christum est absque peccato originali : hinc b.
vii^D Maria mortua est propter peccatuni ex Adam contraclum omnesque ejus aiSic-
tiones peccati actualis vel oiiginalis." 72.

"In rederaplis per gratiam Christi nullum inveniri potest bonum

meritam, quod ni

in viam justiti^e {he
tinctio ilia duplicis
gratuiti quo deus an
viribus naturre exoi

; gratis indigno coUatum." 10: " Solutio pcentB temporalis,
> Eiepe manet, et corporis resurrectio ptoprie nonnisi merltis
St." 22, 29 : " Non soli fures ii sunt et latrones, qui Christum
lis et filie negant, sed etiam quicunque aliunde quam per ipsum
; est aliquam juslitiam) conscendi posse docent." 34: " Dis-
unoris, naturalis vid., quo deus amatur ut auctor naturae, et
ilur ut beatificatoi, vana est." 36 : "Amor naturalis, qui ex
lur, ex sola pbilosophia per relattonem pixsumptionis humanie

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 18;

Bajus held substantially to the prevailing ecclesiastical type.

But althouL
righteousness
eight on forgi

accordance with this type he recognised
real perfection, yet he laid a much greater
^iveness of sin than the Decrees of Trent allowed
of; it is true, no doubt, that for him forgiveness of sin is ideal,
and is really not righteousness, but in point of fact our active
righteousness comes to exist only through constantly having as
its complement the forgiveness of sins which God reckons as
righteousness. Forgiveness of sins is for him not only an initial
act, but a parallel to the "operation of virtue" ("operatio
virtutum").^ That, however, is still Catholic. Augustine's
doctrine of predestination Bajus seems to have rather thrown
into the background.

While not intending it, Bajus came close in his teaching to
the fundamental evangelical thoughts, though these were
strangely mixed up by him with Catholic doctrines. But
Giving to his retractation, the effect of his far-reaching proposi-
tions was lost. On the other hand, the opposition between
Dominicans and Jesuits continued. The characteristic doctrines
of the opponents were rejected from both sides (the " Directions
for Study" of the Jesuit General Aquaviva rejected 17
Thomistic propositions ; the Dominicans carried on an effective
opposition against these Directions, and condemned the
positions regarding predestination of two specially audacious
Jesuits — Lessius and Hamel). But the controversy was only
fanned into full flame when the Jesuit Luis Molina had, in the
year 1588, published his work, " Liberi arbitrii cum gratia; donis,
divina priescientia, providentia, praedestinatione et reprobatione
Concordia."- This work starts with the power of the natural
man to dispose himself for grace (see the Tridentine Decree),
and with amazing Scholastic energy^ tries to unite the divine

cum injuria crucis Christi defenditur a nonnullis doctoribus." 65, ^^ ; " Satis&c-
tiones laboriosie justiiicatotum non valent expiate de condigno pcenam lemporalem
lestantem post culpam condonatam."

1 Remarkable theses on justification are found in 42, 43, 44, 63, 64, 6S, 69, 70.
It 13 manifest that irrelevant material is introduced into the tbEses formulated regard-
ing the Pope.

» The secund edition, 1595, is substantially unaltered.

3 The old efforts to find varieties in the knowledge of God were contimiecl by

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. n.

causality, and even the Augustinian theses, with Semi-Pelagian-
ism, or to subordinate the former to the latter. That, of course,
could not succeed. But the mere undertaking was, from his
Church's point of view, meritorious, and everything can be
forced together in words. In point of fact, Augustinianism was
here discarded (God only aids), and that, too, in such an overt
way that even Scotists took offence at the book. It cannot fall
to us to describe the tragi-comedy which now followed in an
unlimited succession of acts. Yet it illustrates in a very
instructive way the fact that dogma, as dogma, had long been
buried ; for the way in which this Thomistic-Molinistic contro-
versy was carried through — or was not carried through — at
Rome furnishes the clearest evidence that dogmatic interest had
been supplanted by the interest of the holy Chair and of the
various Orders. There was hesitation, a demanding of silence,
a deciding, and a not deciding in so important a question,
because the matter of main concern was not doctrine at all, but
was the peace of the Church and the gratification of the
ambition and lust of poiver of the parties. How far this last
was carried is excellently shown by e.g., the attitude of
Bellarmin. There was not only a threatening of the Pope and
an endeavour to intimidate him when he seemed to favour the
Dominicans too much ; the most zealous papists even laid
hands on the central supports of the system. The Commission
at first appointed, which characterised many positions of Molina
as inadmissible, was obliged to give way to a new one, that
famous " Congregatio de auxiliis gratia;," which continued its
sittings from 1598 to 1607, and could never come to a decision,
because Dominicans and Jesuits were represented on it. In
this controversy the Scholastic terminology was added to in an
Molina, HTiil he turned them to account in cariying out his task ; by help of tbe
"scientia media" God foresees the possible, which, under given circumstances,
becomes the actual. Into the iletails of Molilla's style of doctrij
In judging of it, moreover, it must be Icppt in view that the Catholic Chuich w
longer Augustinian, and that what Molina undertook was to give rational e
lo what was actually held valid. If Molina is to be reproached for writing o^ti/ the-
(iocliine— j'.e., for writing from the standpoint of the rational critic instead of describ-
ing justification as the sinner has experienced it —that is not a reproach that (alls on.
him alone; it also falls on the Tridentine Decree, and on official Catholicism in

CHAP. H.] CATHOLIC DOGMA 1-HOM 1563 TO iS/O. 9^

immeasurable degree (" prredeterminatio physica," " gratia
efficax efficacitate connexionis cum consensu." etc), though
there was no success in making a dogma out of the contradictio
in adjecto (contradiction in terms). In the sitting of 28th
August, 1607, at which Paul V. himself presided, the Jesuits
declared the doctrine of physical predetermination to be
Calvinistic and Lutheran, hotly opposed a decision eventually
come to to suspend Molina's book (" until it be corrected "
[" donee corrigatur "]), and assailed the Dominican dogmatist
Baftez as a heretic. Of the other members of the Congregation
almost every one had a different opinion as to what was to be
done. Thereupon, on the iSth September, the Pope, no doubt
acting on the advice of the Jesuits, dissolved the assembly,
declaring at the same time that he would, at his own time, give
a decision ("at a fitting opportunity His Holiness would
publicly give the declaration and decision that were expected"') ;
till then no party must either " characterise " the other, or " visit
it with any censure " {" aut qualificare aut censura quapiam
notare"). Thus the controversy, which had really been long
before decided — for it was the controversy between Augustine
and Pelagius — ended with an admission of complete helpless-
ness.^

In purer form than by Bajus, whose general theological posi-
tion is a problem, Augustinianism was revived by Cornelius
Jansen, Bishop of Ypres. The movement that is connected with
his name, or with his work"Augustir]LS," published in 1640, after
his death, entered deeply into French history in the seventeenth
century, and carried its influence into the eighteenth and nine-
teenth centuries ; it has still a living monument at the present day

I " Foie ut sua sanctitas declmationeni et detcrminalionem, qute ejupectabatur,
nppattuoe pTamulgant."

5 See Dollioget u. Reusch, I.e., p. 273 f. In the jenr 1611 the Pope iniiuced ihe
Inquisition to issue the order that all books that treated of the material de auxiliis
should first of alt be submitted to it for its approbatian, ScbDcemanD, the Jesuit, is
quite entitled to be proud of the fact that the Molini.stic iloctrine offrace really won
the victory — the doctrine at which even Bellarmin took offence because it exalted
human freedom far too much at the cost of pace, and which was adopted notwjthoul
alteration even in the Decree of the Jesuit General Aquaviva of the fear 1613 (I.e.,
p. 274 (■)■

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. II.

^^^ Heizog's

in the old Catholic Church of Utrecht.' At one time the Hugue-
nots had been the "Friends of Religion" in France, i.e., they
included among them almost all who had a living sense of the
seriousness of religion and who took a stand against the secul-
arised Court- Church. Through the Counter- Reformation,
Catholicism again became a spiritual power even in France. It
was restored in such a way that the spirit of piety again found
a home in it, in spite of Ultramontanism and Court Churchism.
But with the lapse of time it became always the harder for this
good Catholic, pious spirit to tolerate the lax morality which
was really justified by the theology of the Jesuits, and which,
through the confessional, poisoned both clergy and people. It
was observed that this la.-^ morality was a consequence of that
Nominal istic- Aristotelian Scholasticism which had already desol-
ated the Church in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and
which was of one blood with Pelagianism. But at the same time
the earnestly disposed found it more difficult from year to year to
reconcile themselves to that Court and State Christianity which
again established itself in spite of the frightful struggles of the
sixteenth century. This Christianity was at bottom the deadly
foe of Jesuitism ; but it excelled it in frivolity and worldliness of
spirit. Thus the pious Catholics saw the Church of Christ in i
most lamentable position. Protestantism was threatening from I
without; internally, the Church was devastated by two enemies, ,
united in their immorality and their endeavour to lead forth the 1
Church into captivity, otherwise standing apart, the one agitating
for a despicable Court Christianity, the other driving Christianity ]
into blind dependence on the Roman confessional : " Behold the j
Fathers, who take a^vay the sins of the world ! " (" Ecce patres
qui toUunt peccata mundi ! ").

From this state of things the powerful Jaosenist movement isl
to be understood. As relates to the impulses of true piety, it |

' The literature on Jansenism is verj abuniiant ; see Ranke, Frani. Geschichle, SU J
Beuve, Port Royal, 1S40 f., Reuchlin, Gesch. von Port Royal, 2 vols., 1839 f.,
in Heizog's R.-E. the article Jansen ; further, the Monographs on Paschal and the- 1
ArnauMs; Schil!, Die Constitution Unigenitus, 1876, Schott, Art. Port Royal ii
Heizog's R.-E., Henke, Neuere Kirchengesch. II., p. 87 ff. For the eighteenth and,!
nineteenth centuries the Church History ofNippold and Fiiedrich's Gesch. des Vatilc 1
Condls.

CHAP, ir.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO iS/O.

was far superior to the French Conciliar movement of the isth
century. When it sounded forth the appeal to return to the
ancient Church, that which it thought of was not only— was, in
the first instance, not at all — a change of constitution ; it was an
J KWtfr regeneration of the Church through repentance and faith,
religious awakening and asceticism, as these were understood by
Augustine. Once again in the history of Cathoh'cism there was,
in France, a dose adherence to the great African, after adverse
judgment had been pronounced on Luther and Calvin. With
the deepest sympathy we follow the effort, so full of blessing,
and yet so devoid of any prospect of success, to emancipate the
Church from the Church, faith from a Christianity of use and
wont, the moral life from a subtly-refined and lax morality. As
If that had been possible by a mere reaction in the lines of
Augustine! Certainly, if Catholicism could be corrected by
Catholicism, this would have taken place at that time in France,
when the deepest, most earnest, and noblest spirits in the nation
crowded together for reform, and one of the greatest orators and
rhetoricians of all ages, Pascal, broke silence to awaken the
conscience of the nations against the Society of Jesus. But in
the end everything disappeared in the sand. It was not merely
that the movement was violently suppressed; the movement
itself ended, like every Catholic movement for reform, in the
renunciation of opposition and in fanaticism.

The work of describing the course of Jansenism falls to
Church history. New factors requiring to be considered in the
history of dogma did not make their appearance in the con-
troversy ; hence in this connection the interest attaches mainly
to the answer to be given to the question — In what measure did
the official Catholicism see itself compelled, in face of this
movement, to repudiate Augustine and to strengthen itself in its
Nominalistic- Pelagian attitude? Immediately after the appear-
ing of Jansen's "Augustine," the Jesuits did the shrewdest thing
it was in their power to do ; though themselves the party
assailed, they assumed the offensive. Jansen's book really con-
tained pure Augustinianism, incomparably purer than in the
restoration attempted by Bajus, while no concessions were made

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CIIAl*. n

to Protestantism.' Hence the doctrine of predestination certainly
occupies a very prominent place in Jansen.* Through the
influence of the Jesuits with the Curia, Urban VIII., after
referring to the censure pronounced upon Bajus, confirmed the
prohibition of the book, on the ground of its containing heresies.
It was now that the struggle broke out in France — a struggle
about religion, with, at the same time, the undercurrent of a
struggle for the rights of personal conviction over against the
despotism of the Pope and the papal Mamelukes. But these
last-mentioned succeeded in obtaining from the Pope the Bull
"Cum occasione" (1653), in which five propositions were
described as subject to condemnation, and were, at the same
time, represented — though not with entire clearness — as proposi-
tions of Jansen. These are the terms of them :^—(i) "Some
precepts of God cannot be fulfilled by good men, whose wish
and effort are according to the measure of strength they at
present possess; they have the further need of grace that shall
render obedience possible." (2) " Inward grace is never resisted
in the state of fallen nature." (3) " In order to the existence of
merit and demerit in the state of fallen nature there is not
required in man a liberty that is the absence of necessity; it is
enough if there be the liberty that is the absence of constrainL"
(4) "Semi-Pelagians admitted the necessity of inner prevenient
grace for single acts, also for the origination of faith, and they
were heretical in this, that they wished that grace to be of such
a kind that it should be possible for the human will to resist or
obey." (5) " It is Semi-Pelagian to say that Christ died, or that
He shed His blood, for all men without exception."* Looked at

'Jan

itofji

i strictly Catholic

am unnecessary is ju

o correctly reproduc

is just that Augustine's doclrines

s What makes an accf
of sin, grace, and prede

»See Deniinger, I.e., p. 212 1.

'"Aliqua dei prxcepta honiinibus juslis volentibus et conantilius secundum
pneseotea quas habent vires sunt impossibilia ; deest qucxjue illis gratia, qua possibilia
liant," " Interior! gratis in statu naturffi lapsa: nnnquam resistilur." " Ad meren-
dum et deinerendum in statu natune lapsa: non requirilur in homine libertas a.
necesatate, sed sufficit Hbertas a coactione." " Semi-Pclagiani admittebant pwe-
vcnientis gratiae ialeiioris necessitatem ad singulos actus, etiam ad initium lidei, et in
hoc erant hiefetiei, quod vellent e:ini gratiam talem esse, cui posset humana voluntaE
t obtemperare," " Semi- Pel agianum est dicerc, Christum pro omnibus

omnino hominibus m

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1870.

apart from the roots from which they sprang, these propositions
are not Jansenist, even though they can be almost literally
established from Jansen, for dogmatic is not a series of equations
from which one may select as he pleases. The Jansenists, there-
fore, had certainly a right to raise the "question du fait,"
and to require proof that Jansen so taught. The real aim of
their opponents was to separate off the extreme conclusions of
Augustinianism and give them an isolated formulation, that
thereby it might be possible to reject these without touching
Augustine, but that thereby also Augustinianism might be slain.
But the Jansenists were placed in an extremely unfavourable
situation, because their Catholicism did not allow of their openly
questioning the authority of the Pope in matters of doctrine.
Their conceding that the Pope had a right to decide whether
the question a^ fact was determined weakened their attitude;
and where is the line to be drawn between questions of right
and questions of fact? As early as the year 1S56 the declara-
tion was made by Alexander VII. in the notorious Bull "Ad
sanctam b. Petri sedem " : " We determine and declare that those
five propositions extracted from the afore- mentioned book of
Cornelius Jansen, and understood in the sense intended by the
same Cornelius Jansen, have been condemned." ^ When the Chief
Teacher declared in a cold-blooded way that he had also to
decide in what sense something had been understood by someone,
what objection could be raised, if there was the general admission
made of his absolute authority? So the same Pope took the
further step (1664) of issuing a formula for subscription, in which
all clerics and teachers were not merely enjoined to reject the
five propositions, but were required to confess upon oath that
these were condemned " as meant to be understood by the same
author "("in sensu ab eodem auctore intento"). In this way
the Pope already ventured to lord it over consciences; and yet
two more centuries had to run their course before his infallibility
could be proclaimed. For the time, certainly, the Curia gave
relief .so far to the Jansenists, by remaining satisfied with "sub-
missive silence " (" silentium obsequiosum ") (Pax dementis IX.,

1 "Quinque illas proposilione* en libto priemeniomli cornelii Janscnii excerptaa ac
in stHsu ad coiUm CortuliB JaHnnia intento damnatca fuUse, dtfinimas ct dularamtis."

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. II.

1668): but when the Crown began to view the Augustinian
party, who certainly did not take the attitude of unqualiBed
advocates of Gallican liberties, first with indifference, and then
with deepening hatred, and finally made a sacrifice of them to
the Jesuits, Clement XI., in the Bull " Vineam doraini Sabaoth"
(■1705), gave fresh confirmation to all the severe Bulls of his
predecessors against Jansenism, and again made the demand
that there should be a recognition of the definition of Jansen's
intention given by Alexander VII. Port Royal was now
forcibly broken up.

Vet once again, at the beginning of the eighteenth centuiy,
there was a powerful revival of Augustinianism ; not yet had it
been distinctly indicated that in attacking .'\ugustine, what was
aimed at, and what was inevitably involved, was an attack on
the Apostle Paul also. The Oratorian, Paschasius Quesnel, had
published a " gnomon " to the French New Testament, which
very rapidly found circulation as a book of devotion — inciting
to meditation— and was highly prized on account of its simple
Catholic piety. Even Pope Clement XI. had pronounced the
most favourable judgment upon the book ; the great king, who
was already assuming an unpleasantly pietistic air, had let him-
self be touched by its warmth and simplicity ; the Cardinal
Archbishop Noailles of Paris had recommended it. But this I
very recommendation gave occasion to the Jesuits for preparing '
a double blow — for attacking at the same time the Cardinal
whom they hated and the book that was offen.^ive to them from '
its inwardness of spirit. Agitations against the book, in which I
the secret poison of Jansenism was said to lurk, were got up I
among the clergy, and in the end a sketch of a damnatory Bull '
was sent to Rome. What seemed incredible succeeded. The '
feeble Pope, Clement XL, issued the "Constitution" Unigenitus
(1713)1 in which Romanism repudiated for ever its Augustinian
past. It was against all precedent to single out from a book
like that under notice loi propositions, and to place these
emphatically under ban, in a way, too, in re.'ipcct of form,
extremely maladroit. But for the Church of the Jesuits the
Bull Unigenitus has come to be of incalculable value ; for with
this Bull in its hands it has been able to combat all attempts at

CHAP, ir.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1870.

an inner regeneration of the Church, and even in the future this
manifesto of the infallible Pope wjll be capable of rendering the
best service, if Augustine and Sate , who can never be quite
slain, should venture again to threaten the serenity of the
Church.^ The immediate effect of the movement was to create

1 See the Constilution in Deniinger, p. 243 fF. This second last great pronounce-
ment of the Roman Church is in every respect a miserable production. It reveals
above alt the levitf of the procedure foilowed with regard to dogma (in tbe
narrower sense), which had now become a corpus vile. It is characteristic that here
as elsewhere — for it had already become use and wont — there is only a venturing now
upon negative propositions. On the " thorny field of the doctrine of grace " the
Church merely goes on to indicate what must not be believed. Whether between the
contrary propositions that are rejected there still remains anything at all that can be
believed, or is worthy of belief, is a question with which the Church takes little con-
cern. As a matter of fact there has found expression in the conslitutiDn a system of
feith that is no longer ^iVi, but a shrewd morality. Among the rejected theses the
following may be singled ont :— Thesis z : " Jesn Chtisli gratia, principium efficax
boni cujuscumque generis, necessaria est ad omne opus bonum ; absque ilia non solum
nihil fit, sed nee fieri potest." 3 : "In vanum, domine pnecipis, si tu ipse non das,
quod praedpis" (this is an unqualiRed condemnation of Aristotle). 4 : " Ita, domine,
omnia possibilia sunt ei, cui omnia possibilia lac is, eadem operando in illo." Add to
this Theses 5-7. Thesis 8 ■- " Nos non pertinemus ad novum ftedus, nisi in qaantnm
participes sumus ipsius nova: grstiie, qux in nobis opeiatur id, quod dens nobis pise-
cipil." 9: "Gratia Christi est gratia suprema, sine qua confiteri Christum nunquam
possumus, et cum qua nunquam ilium abn^amus." 26: "Nulla; dantur gratia: nisi
per lidem." 27 : " Fides est prima gratia et fona omnium aliarum." 2S ; " Prima
gratia, qnam deusconcedit peccatoii, est peccatorum remissio. " 38: " Peccalor non
est lilier, nisi ad malum, sine gratia liberatoris." 40 1 "Sine gratia nihil amare
possumus, nisi ad noslramcondemnationem." 42 : "Sola gratia Christi reddk homj-
nemaptum ad sacrificiura fidei." 44: "Non sunt nisi duo amores " (j.«., love for
God and love for one's self). 46 : " Cupiditas aut caritas usum sensuum bonum ve!
malum fadunt." 49 : " Ut nullum peccatum est sine amore tiostri, ita nullum est
opus bonum sine amore del" 60: "5i solus supplicil timor acimat pienitentiam,
quo hsec est magis violenta, eo magis ducit ad desperalionem. " 62 : " Qui a raalo
non abstinet nisi timoie ptenx, illud committil in corde suo et jam eat reus coram
deo." 611 : " Dei bonitas abbreviavil viam salutis, claudendo totum in tide et preci-
bus" 69: " Fides est donum purae liberalitatis dei." 73; " Quid est ecclesia nisi
coetus Rliorum dei. manentium in ejus sinu, adoptatoriim in Chtisto, sabsislentium in
ejus persona, redemptorum ejus sanguine, viventium ejus spiritu agentiutn per ejus
gratiam et exspeclantium gratiam fututi sxcaliP" 74: " EcctesiiC sive integer
Christus incainatum verbum habel ut caput, omnes veresanctos ut membra." Theses
79-S6 condemn the universal use of Holy Scripture. 91 : " Excommunicationis in-
justae metus nunquam debet nos impedire ah iuiplendo debito nostro : nunquam exi-
mus ab ecclesia, etiam quanilo hominum nequitia videmur ab ea expuisi, quando deo,
Jcsu Christo atque ipsi ecclesise per catitatem atfixi sumui," (cf. 92). Thesis 94 :
"Nihil pejoremde ecclesia opinionem ingerit ejus inimicis, quam videreillic domina-

HISTORY OF DOr.MA.

[CHAP. II.

a new, great crisis in France — it was the la.st. All who had
stil] piety or a sense of shame bestirred themselves. Accept-
ants and Appellants stood face to face with each other. The
Appellants, however, were not Huguenots, but Catholics, whose
conscience was troubled by every rebellion against the Pope,
Thus by the law invariably regulating such change in the Middle
Ages, the opposition was changed — into surrender, and into
fanaticism and ecstacy. The iron fence of Catholicism allowed
of no swerving aside. If one was unable to rise above it, that
despair resulted which submits with wounded conscience or
breaks out into wild fanaticism. As a note appended to the
Bull Unigenitus, we read in Denzinger the dry historic account:
" This dogmatic constitutio was confirmed by Clement XI.
himself in the Bull against the Appellants, ' Pastoralis Officii," of
date 28th August, 1718, in which he distinctly declares all
Catholics to be aliens from the bosom of the Roman Church
who do not accept the Bull ■ Unigenitus ' ; it was adopted by
Innocent XIII., in the Decree of 8tli January, 1722, by Benedict
XIII. and the Roman Synod in 1725, by Benedict XIV. in the
Encyclical 'ex omnibus Christiani orbis regionibus,' of 16th

lum exerceii supra, fidem lideliuin et foveri divisionea proplei r
liT^DDt nee mores." 97 ; " Nimis sxpe contingit, membra ilia, qme magis sancCf ac
iiiBgia stride unila eccleaiie sum, reapice a.lque tractari tamquam indigna, ut sint in
ecclesia, vel tamquam ab ea sepai.ita sed Justus vivit ex tide et nnn ex opinione homi-
num." It does not need, surely, to be specially emphasised for the first time, that \
even the Jesuits could not have publicly condemned these and similar propoaitionB,. II
hod not Quesnel given expression in some passages to that August inian ism also oc J
cording to which the graj;e of God is merged in His all-perviisive eHiciency. In thtf'l
lijlht of this view, which is secretly present at the end and at the beginning of Augui- f
tinianism, all these pro pnaitions could be interpreted, and d>v:la[ed heretical. Indeed) f
we may go a step further. Does thorough -going Augustlnianisni not really disinte- I
grate the Church ? It was bound to become evident in the end that the dilenuna J
presented itself of either building a Church with Luther ot with the
Jesaistic teachers. August! nianism contains in it an element which d
that constitutes Church. On that account those doctores perspicuior
who proved that Christ has left behind Him an institution, whose n
function consists in this, that it procures even for the feeblest morality, providi
sacrifice of obedience is offered, the highest merits. In Paschasius Quesnel's
for the rest, pure Augustinianism does not find expression. His sharp diath

rd and inward grace, and the attitude assumed by h
empirical Catholic Church, carry him beyond Augastine, and bring
Protestantism.

^^^^L empirical C

^^^^B Protestant!:

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO 1870. 99

October, 1756, by the Gallican clergy in assemblies in 1723,

1726, 1730, by councils at Avignon in 1725, and at Ebr^ne in

1727, and by tfie whole Catlwlic world."'^ The author might
have added that these confirmations and acceptances describe
the history of the victory of the modern Jesuit dogmatic over
the Augustinian, that they are the last word m the Catholic history
cf dogma (in the sense of system of Christian doctrine), and that
they represent at the same time the triumph of the Church over
numberless consciences — over piety indeed — in France. The
Huguenots were expelled, the Jansenists broken or annihilated ;
the French people now belonged to Voltaire and the Ency-
clopaedists. They hated the Jesuits; but as the fear of God
can very well be driven out, but not anxious concern about
God, this nation henceforward belonged to thatveryJesuitChurch
which it hated and ridiculed. Besides, Benedict XIV. {1756}
relaxed the fetters of the Constitution Unigenitus. Every one
was to be regarded as a Catholic who should not offer s. public
resistance to it. But this concession only came when the Bull
had already done its work, and merely served to smooth the
way of return for crushed spirits, when it was no longer to be
feared that they could be troublesome. Jansenist clerics there
have afterwards been in France, as there have been Gallican ;
but the former have been of very much less account than the
latter. Jansenism as a factor was already annihilated in the
eighteenth, Gallicanism not until the nineteenth century.
Under the reign of Pius IX. it was still held necessary to search
out and dispose of the last remnants of the two parties. At
the same time the new dogma of the immaculate conception of
Mary (Constitution " Ineffabiiis deus," of 8th December, 1854)
set the seal to the rejection of the Augustinian-Thomistic

' " Hkc corstitulici Jogmalica confirmata esl ab ipso Clcmeme XI. per bullam
'Pastoralis Officii' 5. Cal. Sept. 1718, conlra Appeilanlcs, in qaa quoscumque
Catholicos, qui Bullam ' Utilgenitus ' non susciperenl, a Romam eccleaiie sinu plane
alienos declarat; ab Innocentio XIII. decret. d. 3, Jan. 1723, n Benedicto XIII.
el synodo Romano, 1725, a Benedicto WX. per encydicam ' Ek omiiibus Christian!
iithis regionibus,' 16. Oct. 17S6, suscepta est a clcro Gallicano in comitiis 1723,
1716, 1730, a conciliis Avenionensi 1725, ab Ebrcdunensi 1717, tt ab univerip
in untie Calhdico,"

lOO HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

doctrine of sin and gracc.^ Henceforward Augustinianism was

scarcely any longer possible in the Roman Church ; but that
Mysticism cannot certainly be banished which at one time is
called Quietism, at another time ■' Spurious JVIysticism " ; for
the Church continually gives impulses towards the origination
of this kind of Christianity, and can itself in no way avoid
training it, up to a certain point,- Indeed, the Jesuit Order has
made efforts that have not been fruitless to furnish occupation
for the irrepressible tendency to inwardness, contemplation, and
Christian independence by sensible means of all sorts, by play-
things and miracles, as well as by brotherhoods, disciplinary
exercises, and rules for prayer, and thereby to keep it bound to
the Church. The " Spurious Mysticism " which adapts itself
with painful reluctance to ecclesiasticism seems to become
always rarer, just because there has been a learning to make the
Church more of a home for it, and the Church Itself, unfortu-
nately, as Catholic, has an innate tendency towards religious
self-indulgence and towards miracle,^ The glorious revival and
'The Catholics need have liltie hesitation in regarding Mary as free from or^nal
sin ; fur whil is original sin lo them ? On ihe other hand, Iheie is something Ihat
suggests pnlling on a bold ftont, when, a hundred limes over, they have recoun
the apolt^etic device in dealing with Protestantism : " You modem men have least
occasion lo stumble at our dogma, for you do not al all believe in original sin." The
selling up of the new dogma in the year 1854 had three purposes, (1) to prepare the
way for the Vatican Decrees, (2) to give the final despatch lo the Thomistic doctnnes
of sin and giace, {3) to glorify Mary, to whom Pius IX. devoted an exIravBgont
worship. The nev^ dogma runs in these terms, (Denanger, p. 324) : " Definimus
doctrinam, qiue tenet, beatissimam virginem Mariam in primo instanti suae concep-
tionis fuisse singulaii omnipotentis del gratia et privilegio, intuitu meritonun ChiislI
Jesu salvatoris human i generis, ab omni origiualis culpie labe pra^servatam immunem,
esse a deo revctatam (when ? to whom ?) alque idcirco ab omnibu! fidelibus (irmiter
constanterque ciedendam."

= It might seem advisable to deal here with the QiiicHstic movement which tbi^
parallel with the Jansenisl, with Molinos, Madame Guyon, with the controversy be-
tween Bossuet and Fenelon, the Fropositiones LXVIII. M. de Moiinos damnahe ab
Innocentio XI. ("Caleslis Pastor," ibS?), and the Catholic- Mystic movements <A
the nineteenth century ; but they have had no palpable result within the history of
The Church, loo, allows the most disorderly Quietislic courses on the part
of Ihe monks, and even of the laily, provided no sovereign claims are set up in con-
with Ihem, and they are pursued ad majorem eccIesisB gloriam. So it is not
here a question of principles.

3 Notice the course of development from Sailer to Clemens Brenlano, and — to
Lourdes.

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC ilOGMA FROM 1 563 TO I S70. 101

the lofty intuitions of the " awakened " in the present century
ended with Anna Katharina Emmerich and the Holy Coat of
Tr§ves.^

(3) The controversy with regard to Probabihsm belongs to the
history of ethics. But ethics and dogmatics do not admit of
being separated. The juristic-casuistic spirit of the Roman
Church had already in the Middle Ages influenced ethics, and
along with it dogmatics, in the most unfavourable way. The
Nominalistic theology had one of its strong roots in juristic
casuistry, i.e., in Probabilism. This was adopted by the Jesuits,
and cultivated in such a way that the Popes at times, and even
the members of the Order itself, were filled with alarm.^ It
will perhaps be found impossible to convict the Jesuits of any
single moral enormity which had not been already expressed
by some medizeval casuist from the Mendicant Orders ; but the
Jesuits have offered to hold themselves responsible in the
world's history for having systematised and applied in the
Church what existed before their time only in the shape of
hesitating attempts, and was checked by strong counter influ-
ences. By the aid of Probabilism this Order understood how in
particular cases to transform almost all deadly sins into venial
sins. It went on giving directions how to wallow in filth, to
confound conscience, and, in the confessional, to wipe out sin
with sin. The comprehensive ethical handbooks of the Jesuits
are in part inonstra of abomination and storehouses of execrable
sins and filthy habits, the description and treatment of which
provoke an outcry of disgust. The most shocking things are

' Vet ihere is blessing even in the Heart- of-Jesus worship, the adoration of Uaiy,
etc., where they are carried on with humility, and with an upward look to ihe God
wlio redeems. As, apart Trom the confessiooal, with its power to foster concern,
ihey are the only embodiments of living piety, even sincere Christian feeling finds a
refuge in these things 1 for the Church which transacts on equal footing with the
Stales, and makes dupes of them, cannot certainly impart vigour to piety, but only
to an undcvout air<^ance. As the heart that seeks to rise to God is not restrained
by doctrinal formulie, but can transform even what is most alien to it into a means
of cOTnfoTt, this same spirit cannot be quenched by idols, but changes ihem into
gracious signs of the God who, in all signs, reveals nothing but His renewing grace.

^See Dollinget u. Reusch, Gesch. der Moralstreitigkeiten in der romisch-catho.
lischen Kirche seit dem 16 lahrhundert, z Bdd,, 1SE9, cf. Theot. Litl.-Z^. 18S9,
col. 334-

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. 1

here dealt with in a brazen-faced way by unwedded priests as
men of special knowledge, not with the view of calling down
with prophetic power upon the burden of horror a heavier
burden of judgment, but often enough with the view of repre-
senting the most disgraceful things as pardonable, and of show-
ing to the most regardless transgressors a way in which they
may still always obtain the peace of the Church. We are told
that they were personally blameless, highly honourable, and
even saintly men who gave the most revolting confessionary
advices for ascertaining the most disgusting forms of vice and
for cleverly pacifying conscience regarding fornication, adultery,
theft, perjury, and murder That may have been so ; there
were certainly excellent Christians even connected with this
fraternity. But all the greater appears the confusing influence
of the religious system of which they were the servants, when it
was capable of producing such licentious subtleties and such a
perverse estimate of the moral principles and the meannesses of
their fellowmen ! And all this too in the name of Christ, the
soothings of conscience as the fruit of His death upon the cross,
and, what was almost worse still, for the greater glory of the
Church ! (in majorem gloriam ecclesis), for one of the interests
lying at the basis of this system of immorality — no one can
deny it — was to maintain and strengthen the external grasp and
power of ecclesiasticism. The only excuse, if there can be such
here, is this,' that that casuistic mode of procedure had already
had a long history in the Church, when the Jesuits raised it to a
method for the entire guidance of souls, as well as for the
theoretic and practical shaping of religion in general. As a
good thing from becoming customary can thereby deprive itself
of its power, so a bad thing that has become customary may
delude the individual as to the force of error and sin that inheres
in it. It might be said, indeed, that this Jesuit morality belongs
to history and not to the system ! Much of what was most

' Or may we assume in the case of some of the worst proposilions that they »^.^
the proJuct of a daring casuistic sport, which ha.d never any practical importance?'
This solution will not apply, at any rale, to some of the very vile confessionary ad-
iricea J for history teaches that they were translated into deeds. Or had overdrawn i
reports found their way to the Pope ? Even this, alas, is not easily proved.

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1 563 TO 1870. 103

revolting has really disappeared, and that an earnest and
philanthropic spirit managed to intermingle itself with the most
lamentable secrets of the confessionary directions is not to be
denied. But the method has continued unchanged, and it
exerts to-day its ruinous influence on dogmatics and ethics, on
the consciences of those who receive, and of those who make
confession, perhaps in a worse degree than at any period. Since
the seventeenth century forgiveness of sins in the Catholic
Church has become to a large extent a highly refined art ; one
learns how to receive confession and give the fitting absolution,
as one learns the art of speculation in the exchange. And yet
— how imperishable this Church is, and how imperishable is a
conscience that seeks for its God ! God can be found by such
a conscience even in the idol, and it hears His voice even where
it hears at the same time all the voices of hell ! ^

' The severe ciiticism of the casuistic morality, fostered chiefly hy the Jesuils, and
of their confessionary counsels, muat not hinder the impartial hislorian from recog'
nising what they have achieved, and still achieve. What would modern Catholicism
be without them ? Tiej' are ike active squad of the Church, who work and reap [he
fruit that is produced by all ■work. With the exception of aome outstanding German
.'scholars, the Catholic authors who are not Jesuits are a quanlite negligeable. Tiit^
sohei judgment which Leibniz pronounced upon the Order 200 years ago is still sub-
stantially correct: "That the Jesuits have so many enemies within their own
communion [how far that still holds good lo-da.y, I leave undiscussed], is due, for the
most pBjt, to the bet that they take a more prominent and influential position than
others. ... It is not to be doubted that there are honourable and valiant people
among them. At the same time, however, they are often too hot-headed, and many
among ihem are bertt upon serving the Order per fas et oefas. Bot it is not other-
wise all round ; only it is more noticeable anoong the Jesuits than among others,
because Ihey, more than others, are before the eyes of people." But Leibniz did not
observe tbat the Jesuits are still, at the present day, " Spanish priests," and are most
strongly opposed to the German religious spirit. Their founder, on whom a German
Protestant national economist, Cotheln, has uadoubledly written the most impartial
and best book (if only the Jesuits would show freedom of spirit enough to write the
most impartial book upon Luther, instead of leaving Luther to be scurrllonsly dealt
with by narrow-minded and fanatical chaplains I), Ignatius de Loyola, impressed his
Spanish spirit for all time upon the Order. Nothing great has been done by them
In anything they have since added to or subtracted from this. Thai Spanish spirit,
however, though outrun hy the development of spiritual culture in morality, religion,
and science, still continues to he a dominant force in public and political life. In
the war of 1S70 a celebrated man was right in saying; " We fight against Louis
XIV." That war has come to an cud. But we have also the struggle to wage
against the Jesuits and the Counter- Re formation, and the end of this war cannot he
foieieen.

104 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. 11.

The Spanish Dominican, Bartholomaus de Medina, was the
first to describe and defend Probabilism " scientifically," this
being done by him in his Commentary on Thomas's Prima
Secund^ (iS77). The thing itself had long exi.sted, but the
formula for it had not yet been found. It ran in these terms :
" If an opinion is probable, it is lawful to follow it, thqjigh the
contrary opinion is more probable." ^ Seldom has a saying
shown at once the kindling power of this one, and seldom has a
saying continued to work so mightily : it was the emancipation
of morality from morality, of religion from religion, in the
name of morality and religion. Many Spanish Dominicans —
Thomists, that is to say! — and Augustinians seized on the new
watchword at once, and even in the last decennium of the
sixteenth century several theologians could write, the Jesuit
Gabriel Vasquez being among them, iAai Probabilism was the
preuailing view among contemporary theologians? From that
time onwards, down to the middle of the seventeenth century,
Probabilism spread without opposition through the whole
domain of ecclesiastical life. Within the province of faith it
revealed its destroying influence (i) in '' Laxisin" with regard
to the granting of absolution ; (2) in " Attritionism," that is, in
the view that the fear of hell is enough in itself to secure for-
giveness of sins through the Sacrament of Penance, that the love
of God, therefore, is not requisite.^ With regard to both these
points, Dominicans made common cause with Jesuits in show-
ing that the defence of their Thomistic doctrine of grace was
now only a duty imposed upon them by their Order, and was no
longer the outcome of inward interest in the matter itself.
What the fruits were that ripened from Probabilism — towards
which the attitude of the Popes was that of easy toleration —

1 " Si est opinio probabilis, licitum est earn sequi, licet opposila. sit probabilior."
DolUneer u. Reusch, p. zS ff.

"The watchword was not at once eagerly adopted by all Jesuits ; Bellarmin, £,f.,
viewed it with disfavour. For tbe attitude the Jesuits assume towards this fact see

1.=. p. 31 f.

> Attritionism, again, has itself different degrees, according as it is defined nega-
tively or positively, or according as it relates to temporal or eternal penalties, to
penalties or to stronij displeasure against sin itself, etc.; on its hisloiy cf. Stiickprt,
Die Kath. L. v. d. Reue (1896), p. 53 ff., 58 ff., 62 ff.

CHAP. II.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1563 TO iS/O. lOS

on to the middle of the seventeenth century, has been recently
described to uh in a simple but startling way. ^ Then Jansenism
arose in France. Jesuistic Probabilism, even more than Semi-
Pelagianism, was the enemy against which this movement
directed itself. Against it Pascal raised his voice : the Provincial
Letters represent the most formidable attack which a ruling
ecclesiastical party has ever in history had to endure. It is not
hard to convict the great man of the use of rhetorical devices-
he was a Frenchman and a Catholic; we must not lay it down
that he ought to have written as Luther did in the year 1520 ;
but in their way the Letters are perfect. " That in the begin-
ning of the second half of the seventeenth century a turn of
things set in, and Probabilism ceased to be the reigning view,
muft be placed in the first instance to the credit of Pascal — and
of the unskilful attempts of the Jesuits to reply to the Letters,
published by him in 1656 — and of his friends, especially
Amauld and Nicole."^

There now followed a struggle, lasting for more than half a
century, that seemed to terminate in a growing suppression of
Probabilism.* Even by Innocent X. and Alexander VII- a

1 Diillinger u. Reusch, I.e., pp. 97-rzo.

= L.c,,p. 35 f.

3 A number of vaiieties now developed themselves. BeginniDg wilh the most Ux,
and passing on to the most strict, we hive the following :—{l) One may follow the
less certain opinion, even when it ii, only lenuiter, nay, even when it is only dubie or
probabiliter probabilis, that is to say, when there are only some Ett"""!* t" ^
adduced for it, or vihen it is not certain thai there are mrgroumis to be addutedforit,
(the laiest Probabilism); (a) one may follow the less certain opinion, even though it is
less probable, provided only it can be supported by good grounds (geouine Fio-
babibsm) ; {3} one may follow the less certain opinion, if it is almost as probable as the
contrary opinion (rigorous Probabilism) ; {4) one may follow the less certain opinion
when il isaa probable as the more certain (lEquiptobabilism) ; (5) one may follow the
certain o^nnioa even when it is less probable ; the less certain opinion may be followed
only when it is more probable than the contrary opinion (Probabiliorism) ; (6) one
may only follow the lei» Certain opinion when it is the most pmliable of all (lax
Tutiorism) j (7) the less certain opinion is never to be followed, even if il is the most
probable, i.e., id the case of doubt all action is to be avoided ; the conscience has
always to give the verdict, even when the most probable reasons testify against what
appears to be duty (strict Tmioristn) ; see I.e. , p. 4. ff. The last-menlioned view,
which alone is moral, is regarded as Rigorism, and was expressly condemned by
Alenandei VIH. un the 7th December, 1690 (see Deniinger, p. 136 ; "Non licet
sequi opinionem vel inter probabiles probabilissiraam "). This Probabilistic method

^^^^k potest q

106 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IL

number of books of lax theological morality were proscribed,
some of them unconditionally, some of them " until they were
corrected" ("donee corrigantur"). The latter even contem-
plated the publication of a Bull against Probabilism. But he
satisfied himself with condemning, in the years 1665 and 166^
a number of the worst positions of the Casuists,' and, with'
regard to Attritionism, with dictating the already familiar
course, namely, that the contending parties should not condemn
each other, until the Holy Chair had come to some decision in
this matter." His succes.sor, Innocent XI., condemned, in the
year 1679, sixty-five other propositions of the Frobabilists,
among which some samples of genuine villainy are to be found,*'

recalls the monstrous haggling, thai is, the ProbabiUsm, of the Pharisees and TalmB'
dists in the expounding of the !aw. That is probably not accidental, for the m^bof

hud iti beginning in the thirteenth centniy, i.e., in a period in which Jewish sci

probably exerciiied an influence on the theolc^ans of the Mendicant Orders. Gdde*
mann (Jild. Litl.-Blalt, 31 Jahig., 29lh Oct., 1890) has laken offence because in tW
first edition I had spoken of the " monstrous haggling about mor^l principles a.iiiaDe^
the Taimudists," whereas i; was only what was ritual that was in question. He wHl
find now, in place of the expression objected to, the more general expression " about
the law." But that hagglinR, moreover, had by no means to do merely with what
was ritual, and was the ritual so different in Judaism of the old school from what
was enjoined as moral ?

1 SeeDenanger, p. 113 f. I refrain from reproducing these abominable theses, Iml
direct attention to 1, z, 6, 15, 17, 18, 24, 15, 26, 28, 40, 41.

= Decree of 5th May, 1667, in Deniinger, p. 217 ; " de materia attritionis non
audeant alicujus theologicte censure alteriuave injuria? aut conlumeliie nota taxaic
alterulram scntcntiam, sive negantem necessitatem aliqualis dilectionis dei in pne&ta
attritione ex metu gehenns concepta, quae hodie inter scholasticoscommaniorvidehir,
sive asserentem dict^ dilectionis necessitatem, donee ab hac sancta sede fuerit sliqnld
hac in re definitum."

* Deniinger, p. 2l8 f. ; one would need to sum up snd transcribe the whole of
them in order to give a picture of this moral desolation. I content myself with
adducing those relating to faith : — 4 : " Ab infidelitnte excusabilur intidelis non
credens ductus opinione minus ptobabik." 5 : "An peccel mortaliter, qui actum,
dilectionis dei semel tanlum in vita elicerel, condcmnate non audemus." 6 ; " Pn>-
balnle est, ne singulis quidem rigoiose quinquenniis per se obligare prsceptum
cttritatis erga deum." 7 : " Tunc solum obiigal, quando tenemur juslificari, et non
habenius aliam viam, quajustificariandqua justilicari possimus." 10 : "Non tenemur
prnximum deligere actu intemo et fbrmali."' 11 ; " Prrcceplo proximum diligendi
salisfacere possumus per solos actus eKternos." 17 : " Satis est actum fidei semel in
elicere." 19; " Voluntas non potest efficere, ut assensus fidei in 'ieipsositmagis

firnius, quam mereatur pondu
potest quis prudenter repudi:

CHAP. 11.] CATHOLIC DOGMA FROM 1 563 TO iS/O. ID/

One must study the.se rejected propositions in order to see that
among the Romanic peoples both the "morality" and the
immorality of the eighteenth century had one of their strongest
roots in the doctrine of the Je.suits. But the doctrine itself was
worse than both ; it sought to show that the low-type moral
code of cultivated society in the times of Louis XIV. was
positive Christianity, provided only one did not renounce con-
nection with the Church (by means of the confessional). Still,
the worst extreme seemed to be now averted by the enactments
of the Pope, by the complaints of the best Frenchmen, by the
protests of many monks, and indeed of entire Orders. Within
the Jesuit Order itself Thyrsus Gonzales took his stand against
the Probabilist doctrine. And while his confreres succeeded,
although Gonzales had become their General (16S7), in emascu-
lating his great work against Probabilism before it was allowed

gen ti liter vi

cum notitia solum piobabili
nan sit locuLus dens." 22 :
medii, non autem explicita
similive motivo ad

" Assensus fidei supetnatu talis el utilis ad saluten
revelationis, ima cum famiidine, qua quis Ibrmidi
" Nonnisi fides unius dei necessaria videtur

" Fides late dicla, ex testimonii

a sufficit." 56: ",Frequens contessio et coram

inl, est nota pnedestinationis." 57 : " Probabile

lodo honeslam." iS: "Non tenemur confessario interrc^anli fateri
peccati alicujus cansuetudineni." 60: " P3:mtenti hatienti consueludinem peccandi
contra legem dei, natuiLC aut ecc]esi:e, etsi emendationis spee nulla appareal, nee est
neganda nee difTerenda absolutio, dummodo ore profeiat, se dolere et proponere
emendationem." 61 : " Potest aliqnando absolvi, qui in pioxima occasione peccandi
veTsatur, quam potest et non vulc omittere, quinimo rlirecte et ex pioposito quseiit aut
ei sei ingerit." 62 ; " Proxima occasio peccandi non est fugienda, quando causa
aliqua utilis aut honesta non fugiendi occuitit." 63: " Licitum est qu^rere directe
occasionem proximam peccandi, pro bono spirit uali vel temporal! nostro vel proximo."
64 ; " Abselttlionis capax esl honiB, guatitunwis laborel ignerantia tnysleriontm Jidei,
et etiarmiptr negligcatiam eliiaii ailfaiilem aisciat Biysleriuai sanitissima Iriiu'ta/is,
« incarnationii domini tiostri /isu Chrisli." 65 : " Sufficililla mysteria semelcridi-
litsse." If this is not a veritable "issue " of dt^ma, then there is no euch thing at
ail. What did it matter that this particular thesis was rejected by Innocent if it was
nevertheless the expression of a general view that was never rejected by the Popes >
With regard to the 6ist thesis, it is to be rematked that Tamburini even imparts the
advice to the father-confessor : " If thou observest that the penitent before thee is
very much addicted to some sin, do not require of him an act of contrition for this
special sin ; for there is a danger that, if be is expressly reminded of il, he wQl not
abhor it from the heart, while he will have Utile or no difiiciilty in abhorrinB it in a
general way, and when it is taken together with other sins " (Dollinger u. Reu.sch,

p. 63r.i.

to appear (1694), its power was broken at the beginning of the
eighteenth century,' especially after Alexander VIII. in his
Decree of August, 1690, had rejected two of the worst proposi-
tions of the Probabilists (regarding philosophic sin).^ Yet at
bottom Jansenism and Anti-Probabilism were solidarically
united. If the former was struck down (Constitutio Unigenitus),
it was only a question of time for Probabilism to raise its head
again. And as for the doctrine of attritio, the Popes had only
reached the point of neutrality regarding it. What did it avail,
therefore, that in the first half, and in the middle, of the
eighteenth century, Probabiliorism prevailed among the French
clei^y and elsewhere — except in Spain ? From Attritionism as
a source Probabilism was bound to issue forth again. " At the
very time when the Society of Jesus was crushed, God raised
up a new champion for Probabilism, and ensured for the Society a
triumph in the future on which human foresight could not have
reckoned." This champion was the founder of the Redemp-
torists, Alphonso Liguori (1699-1787), the most influential
Roman theologian since the days of the Counter- Reformation,*
Liguori, the Blessed (iSrS), the Holy (1829), the Teacher of the
Church (1871), is the true counterpart to Luther, and in modem
Catholicism lu lias stepped inta the place of Augustine.* Through-
out his whole life "a restless man of scruple.s " and a rigid
ascetic, all doubts and all self- mortifications merely involved
him more deeply in the conviction, that it is only in the
absolute authority of a Father-Confessor — here the absolute -
comes in then— that any conscience can find rest, but that the
Father- Confessor must apply the holy law of God according to
the principles of iEqui-Probabilism— as applied by Liguori, it is
not different from Probabilism. By Liguori complete ethical

' The purls referring to Gonzales have been treated with special fulness in
published by Diillinger and Reusch.

2 Dcnzinget, p. 235 f. It is true, on the other hand, that in theDecreeof December, J
i6go, very excellent propositions are condemned (against Janaenism, but (hey v
favour of the Probabilists) j see d. 3, 5-9, 10-15 (t4; " timor Behenna; non est ;
naturalis"}. z6 : " Laus quie defertur Maria; ut Maris vana est."

' Liguori and Voltaire were exactly contemporaries ; among the Romanic r
they became the most influential men, the guides of souls.

' Cf. the instructive section in Doliinger u. Keusch, pp. 356-476.

scepticism was again established in the morality, and indirectly
in the dogmatics, of the Church. Though Liguori does not go
so far as the most shameless Probabilists of the seventeenth
century, yet he fully accepted their method, and in a countless
number of questions, inclusive even of adultery, perjury, and
murder, he knew how to transform the vile into the venial. No
Pascal took his stand against him in the nineteenth century ;
there was a strengthening rather from decennium to decennium
of the authority of Liguori, the new Augustine, and to-day
he is supreme in all Orders, in all seminaries, in all manuals of
doctrine.' Any remnants of Augustinianism that succeeded in
surviving till the nineteenth century Liguori suppressed. The
casuistic morals, together with Attritionism, have thrown
dogmatic entirely into the background. Probabilism and
Papalism have broken it up ; it is to-day, as circumstances may
require, a rigid or an elastic legal order ^ — a prison from which,
if the interests of the Church require it, one is not delivered
until he has paid the last farthing, and again a building, into
which one need never enter, if he only holds himself under
dutiful subjection to the Church.

' Cf. the most widely-used manual — that by Guiy.

" This utilising according to inclination of given factors reveals itself in the numer-
ous decisions of the Curia, with regard to theoEogical disputes of the nlneleentb cen-
tury, especially in Germany, but also in France; compare the judicial processes recorded
by Denzinger relating to Lammenais (p. 310 f, 311 f.), Hemes (p. 317 f., 3ZI f,],
Bautain (p. 319 f.), the Traditionalists (p. 328 f.}, Giinlher {p. 329 f., 33° f., 33' f-i.
Frohschammer and other German theologians (p. 332 f., 33S f.). Of greatest in lerest
are the theses against " Traditionalism," i.e., sigainst faith, of Ilth Juoe, 1S55 (p.
328 f.). Here the following is taught; " Ratiocinatio dci existentiam, animiE
spiritual itatem, hominis Iibertatem cum certitudine probare potest. Fides posterior
est tevelatione, proindeque ad probanduro dei esistentiam contra atheum, ad pro-
bandum animsc rationalis spirilualitatem ac Iibertatem contra luturalismi ac Sialism!
sectatorem aUegari convenientcr nrquit." " Rationis usas tidem pnecedit el ad earn
hotninem ope revelationis et gratis conducit." " Methodus qua usi sunt Thomas,
Bonavenlura. et alii post ipsos scholastici non ad ralionalismum ducit neque caus a fiiit,
cur apud scholas hodiemas philosophia in naturalismum et panlheismum impingeret."
Reason is brought into service when one needs it, and dismissed when it causes dis-
turbance. The same course is followed with Holy Si;ripture, tradition, and faith.

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

(3) The Vatican Decrees.

After what has been set forth in the two foregoing sections,
the proclamation of I'apal InfaUibiHty must appear as the
necessary outcome of the development. If all authorities, the
authority of the bishops, the authority of the Councils, the
authority of tradition, the authority of Augustine, the authority
of conscience, are detnoHshed, then in a Church that is based on
authority a new authority must arise. That worlv of abolishing
could only be carried on so victoriously because the new single
authority was long held in petto, and there was an acting in
view of it. All that was now required was that by a solemn
act — an act of this kind could not, unfortunately, be avoided —
the Universal Bishop, the living tradition, the Teacher of faith
and morals who could not be deceived, the absolute Father-
Confessor, should also be proclaimed as such. Those were
mistaken who were strongly of opinion that the period was not
yet ripe for such a proclamation; no, the time was fulfilled.
All lines of development, those within and those from without,
converged upon this goal. The former lines we have taken
account of; the latter were given in the Romanticism and the
reaction in the first deceniiia of the new century, In the timidity
and weakness of those governing, in the indifference of those
who were governed. With scarcely a word our century accepted
what dared not have been offered to the spirit of any other
century without calling into the lists an armed Europe, Catholic
and Protestant.^

For students of the history of dogma the preparations for
the Council of 1869-70, and the course followed at it, have no
interest whatever. There were in Catholicism two parties ; the
one was in favour of the infallibility of the Pope, the other was
opposed to it, but did not know exactly what was to happen if
it was rejected. That is the whole. Endless efforts of a
political kind were at the same time put forth on both sides,

1 The way had nlready been prepared l)y the Syllabus (Denzingei-, p. 345 ffi ), which
condemned, in addition to many bad things, Ihc good spirit also of the nineteenth

CHAP. II.] THE VATICAN DECREES. Ill

instructive for the historian of politics, of no consequence for any
one who wishes to follow the history of dogma.^ The Scheme
of Faith of 24th April, 1870, contains in its introduction and
four chapters nothing new; faith means the recognition of
Scripture and of tradition, the holding all as true that is written
therein, and the holding it as true in the sense in which it is
understood by the Church, which alone has the right to
expound. What was new was brought forward in the Scheme
of the Church (iSth July, 1870) " Pastor ^eternus," or rather the
formulating as dogma was new.'^ Christ has given to Peter a
place above all the Apostles, that there may be a real unity in
the Episcopate. The primacy of Peter and his successors is
therefore real and direct ; it has not been committed to Peter
by the Church. It is, further, a primacy of jurisdiction over the
whole Church ; accordingly there belongs to Peter the " ordinary
and direct power" (potestas ordinaria et immediata) as " plenary
and supreme" (plena et suprema) over the whole Church and
over each individual Christian. This "power of jurisdiction" is
also in the full sense Episcopal, i.£., there belong to the Pope
everywhere all Episcopalprerogatives(Chap.III.: "if any one shall
say that the Roman pontiff has only the duty of inspection or
direction, but not the plenary and supreme power of jurisdiction
over the whole Church ... or that he has only the greater part,
but not the entire measure of this supreme power, or that this
power of his is not ordinary and direct over all the Churches
and each one singly, or over all paators and believers and each
one singly, let him be anathema."^) Thus the Pope is the

'The proceedings of the Council have been summed up by Ftiedberg ; the fullest
slatement has lieen given by Friedrich, 3 vols., 1877 ff. ; compare Frommann's,
Hase's, and Nippold's descriptions. Interesting information in Friedrich's Journal,
and in Lord Aclon's work, " On the History of the Valicao Council," 1871. For
Ihe Council as viewed in the light of the history of dogma, see Janus, Der Papst und
das Condi, 1369. Ultramontane account by Cardinal Manning (Getoian translation
by Bender, 1S77).

'Friedbeig, Proceedings, p. 740 ff.

' " Si quis dixerit, Romsnum pnntilicem habere tantummodo (ifficium inspectinnis
vel directionis, non autem plenam et supremam polestatem juiisdictiouis in univetsam
ecclesiam. . . . aut euro habere tanlum poliores partes, non vero totam plenitudi-
nem hujus supremie poteslatls, aut hanc ejus polestatem non esse ordinariam et im-
medialam in omnes et singulas ecclesias, sive in omnes el singulos paslores el
Melea, anathema sit,"

112 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CliAP. II.

universal bishop ; he is the supreme judge, the infallible
authority, " We teach and declare it to be a divinely revealed
dogma : that the Roman pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra,
i.e., when, in discharging his office as pastor and teacher of all
Christians (under what recognisable conditions is that the
case?), he in virtue of his supreme apostolic authority defines,
by the divine assistance promised to the blessed Peter, the
doctrine regarding faith and morals that is to be held by the
whole Church, exercises that infallibility by which the divine
Redeemer wished His Church to be instructed in the definition
of the doctrine regarding faith or morals, and therefore such
definitions of the Roman pontiff are of themselves, but not
through the assent of the Church, subject to no amendment.
But if any one shall presume to contradict this our definition,
which may God forbid, let him be anathema!" (Chap. IV.y
The recollection of the past, the preparation of the Church's
future, are thereby delivered over to the Pope, or rather to the
papal Curia. Even dogma is by this Constitution reckoned, so
to speak, to the papal domestic estate. What a victory ! All
great controversies of the four preceding centuries are at one
stroke waived aside, or at least condemned as of no importance.
There is no longer any Episcopal ism, and whoever appeals to
the old tradition as gainst the new is ipso facto condemned I
All the conflicts that had at one time made up the life of
mediaeval Catholicism are set aside, "they make a solitude and
call it peace" (" solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant"). The
Church has one infallible lord; it need concern itself no more
about its history ; the living inan alone is in the right.

History reaches its ends in strangely circuitous ways. Was
this Constitution of the year 1870 perhaps to become in the

1 "Docemus el divinilus revelatam dogma esse declaiamus : Romanum Pontificem,
quum ex cathedra loquitur id est quum omninai Christianorum pastoris et doctoris
munere fungens prosuprema sua apostolica auctorilate doclrinam de fldevel moribus
ab nniversa ecclesia tenendam deiinit per assistentiam divinam, ipsi in bealo Petro
promissaro, ea infallibilite poUere. qua divinus redemptdr ecclesiam suam in defini-
enda doctrina de fide Tel moribus instructam esse Toluit, ideoque ejasmodi Romani
pontificis definitiones ei sese, non autem ex consensu ecclesim irreformabiles esse,
n huic nostras definitioni cantradicere, quod deus aveclat, pra^umpserit

CHAP. IL] the VATICAN DECREES. II3

future the means by which the Church should gradually free
itself from the load of its past, from the Middle Ages and
antiquity ? That would be an inversion of development such
as is not unknown in history. Will the Constitution "Pastor
jeternus" become perhaps the starting point of a new era of
Catholicism, in which the media::val dogma that is already con-
demned as of no importance, will more and more disappear, and
there will develop itself from the Hcart-of-Jcsus worship and
from the living devotion of believers, a new faith, which, again,
may admit of being formulated without difficulty? On the
basis of the complete reduction of all things to an ecclesiastical
level, which the new dogma represents— for what is a bishop or
archbishop to-day alongside the Pope, and on the other hand
how much importance attaches to-day in Catholicism to a lay-
man who has a warm feeling for his Church! — will there perhaps
develop itself a living Christianity of the congregational order,
such as the Church has never yet possessed? And will the
Pope himself perhaps find a means, at the close of this develop-
ment, for renouncing again the fictitious divine dignity, as a
means was found in the sixteenth and in the nineteenth
centuries for obtaining deliverance from the most sacred
tradition?^

Foolish hopes, one will say; and certainly the signs of the
times point in an entirely different direction. As yet the pro-
cess does not seem to have run its course ; with infallibility, it
appears rather to have reached only the beginning of the end.
Not to refer to the fact that nothing whatever is said in the
Decree of the personal qualities of the Pope ^ (can he not be

J To that side of llie papal infellibilil)' on which it means Ihe authority of XXiefir-
UMfl/ element as against the rigid aulhorily of the letter and of tradition, and, at the
same time, represents the factor of proEtesS in the Church, I need surely onlyadTCrt.
So long as the objective authority of the letter and of tradition is held to be divine,
the personal element also must have the authority of the divine, that concurrence
may be possible.

'Gregory VII. already claimed for the individual Popes (not merely for the Roman
Church) infallibility, nay, complete personal holiness ; for [hey possessed all that Peter
bad. According to him the Pope's word is simply God's word (see Mitbt, Publicistik im
Zeitallcr Grcgir'aVII., p. 565 f.). But at that time everything bad yet a certain un-
certainty attaching to it, and even the absolute assertion had still something about
it thai was not binding.

114 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

declared to be sinless, to be holy, can there not be ascribed to
him a special miraculous power, can he not be regarded as a
peculiar incarnation of the Godhead, can there not be attributed
to him a connection of a unique kind with the Holy Virgin or
with the Holy Joseph, etc.?) — at all events there lies in the
"when he speaks ex cathedra" and in the " when he defines the
doctrine concerning faith and morals to be held by the whole
Church," a sting of uncertainty which must still be extracted.
Many signs suggest that this is desired in authoritative quarters,
and therefore may very well be done in the future. It is
possible, nay necessary', that the " faith or morals " includes
everything which the Pope according to his opinion needs in
order to be Pope, that there is included, therefore, e.^., the
ecclesiastical State. Let there be observed what in this regard
the acute Jesuit, Paul Graf Hoensbroech, has stated in his book
" Der Kirchenstaat in seiner dogmatischen (!) und historischen
Bedeutung" (1S89), p. 74 f. :^ " . . . thus the entire teaching
Church, Pope and bishops, solemnly announce r Under the
circumstances of the present time the secular supremacy of the
apostolic chair is necessary for the free guidance of the Church.
To be in doubt of that, namely that this has been announced by
the Pope and bishops, is impossible. As supreme pastor and
teacher, the Pope addresses himself to the whole Church. The
bishops of the entire earth accept the word of the teaching
Pope and communicate it to believers ; and on the other hand
as the supreme shepherd and teacher the Pope sanctions what
the bishops have done. Hence we are entitled to conclude that
this declaration of the necessity of worldly possession contains
infallible truth ; consequently, every Catholic is forbidden to doubt
this necessity, or to contest it." To one reader or another this
conclusion may perhaps at first sight seem strange. The
declaration as to the necessity of worldly possession is to contain
infallible truth ? Does this necessity, then, belong to the treasury
■of revealed truth, and will one raise the declarations of the

■ I allow this quolaticn from the first edition to slatid, although the author has
since become a Protestant ; in the disaertation there speaks, not Graf Hoensbroech,
but the Order itself, although it does not r^;ard everything as necessary doctrine
which the author has set forth.

CHAP. II.] THE VATICAN DECREES. IIS

Pope and the bishops regarding this to a dogma, to a real
article of faith? Neither the one nor the other. But yet what
we have said still holds true. To the Church of Christ there has
been promised by its divine founder infallibility, inerrancy, in
the case of all decisions that have as their subject the truth
revealed by God by means of Scripture or tradition. To this
truth of revelation contained in Scripture or tradition there does
not belong~we repeat it — the declaration as to the necessity of
earthly possessions ; and in so far as only a truth of revelation
can become, properly speaking, an article of faith, a dogma, a
decision as to this necessity never forms a dogmatic doctrinal
position. But in order that the Church may be in a position to
decide with infallible certainty on what are,properly speaking, truths
of faith, it must evidently be able to pronounce its judgment with
the same inerrancy upon everything which has an inner, necessary
connection with these truths of faith. But the earthly possession
of the Popes stands in such a connection with i/ie real truths of
faith. For it is a truth of faith that to the Church, or, in other
words, to the Pope, there rightfully belongs perfect freedom in
guiding the flock committed to his care. But this freedom is, in
its exercise, dependent on outward circumstances; it requires the
use of outward means, and these means have therefore an
inward, naturally necessary connection with the freedom itself
Thus the Church can also with infallible certainly (note the fine
distinction: "infallible certainty," not dogmatic infallibility I)
specify those means which, according to the circumstances of the
time, are useful or necessary, as the case may be, for the exercise of
its divinely-intended freedom. Now for the present times the
Church has declared earthly possessions to be necessary for
maintaining the freedom that ought to belong to it, and the
entire Catliolic world honours in this claim unerring truth'' *

At the present time this last is not yet really done by the
whole Catholic world ; but that is a matter of indifference.
Unquestionably the "yes and no " of this argumentation leads
up to the doctrinal position: "The Church places also the

' Thus lliE "infallible certainty," or the "unerring truth," of papal claims, which is
[tally equivnlent to dogmatic in&llibilily, is here made out even for provinces which
are not de fide el moiitms.

Il6 lUSTOKY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. II.

outward and temporary means which it declares necessary for
the exercise of its divinely-intended freedom under the pro-
tection of the infallibility proclaimed in the year 1870." In this
way the words " doctrine concerning faith and morals "
("doctrina de fide et moribus ") are to be understood. What
perspectives are not only opened up by but included in this in-
terpretation, does not require to be demonstrated ; the Pope
declares his politics to be infallible, and the Church-State comes,
in a circuitous way, to be as much a dogma as the Trinity.
This interpretation, which is a perfectly legitimate conclusion
from the principle, has not yet been sanctioned in the highest
quarters; but how much time must elapse ere it, too, shall be
drawn ? What significance that has for dogma is quite obvious ;
by the declaration of papal infallibility all dogmas are ideally
threatened, by formally placing on a level " temporary " political
requirements and doctrines of faith every dogma is materially
emptied of its meaning. Of course it will always be added from
that side ; " The Pope receives no new revelations," " faith and
morals stand at an unattainably high stage," " the tradition and
dogma of the Church remain unchangeably the same," "we
speak only of ' infallible certainty,' not of dogmatic infallibility,
when we declare the papal policy authoritative," etc. But what
person of insight will drink poison for wine, because the labels
of the bottles still retain the old inscriptions? There are still
other dogmas in the air. If one will learn what they are, he
must study the doctrines which the Jesuits foster as probable
opinions of their Order. I arfi not aware, for example, that the
opinion that all Jesuits will be saved has been departed from.^
Nor, so far as I know, has the report been contradicted that
prayers to the Pope have appeared in print,"

We must not let ourselves be misled as to the true state of
things by the Catholic systems of dogmatic which are still
being constantly written, and by the general reflections on
dogmas which may be read there. Besides, there constantly
appear even there — in the assumption of implicit and quasi

See DSUioger u. Reusch, Motalstreitigkeitcn, I., pp. 524-534.
"By the Oratoii&D, Faber, if I am not mistaken.

CHAP. II.] THE VATICAN DECREES, II7

implicit dogmas (dogmata implicita et quasi implicita),' in the
way in which a distinction is drawn between entire, half, and
quarter dogmas, and, finally, in the scope given to the mere
negation of doctrines — on the one hand scepticism, and on the
other hand dogmatic politics.

1 See the article "Dogma "by HeinHch <Wetzer und Weller III. z. Col. 1879 ff.):
" Bolh in material and formal dogmas, whelher these truths be declared or not, other
truths of &ith can be contained, and these tnilhs, so long as they are not in someway
divested of their hidden character, or explicated, are called dogmata implicita. They
are taught by the Church and believed by the faithful in the explicated dogmas, that
is, they ate taught and believed implicitly. But there are two possible causes of the
hidden character of such so-called enclosed dogmas ; the cause may lie in this, that
while the truth in question is declared in Scripture and ecclesiastical tiadition, or is
declared directly in a doctrinal deliverance of the Church, it is not declared with such
clearness that every believer, or at least the well-instructed and discerning believer, is
able to perceive it with ease and certainly. In this case this truth, while immediately
revealed and set forth by the Church, is not revealed and set forth with sufficient clearness.
There is here, as the theologians term it, arevelatioet propositioformaliset immediata,
sed conhiia et obscura, ; such a truth has also been described as quasi implicita. For
in the strictest and most proper sense implicita. dogmata ate those truths which are
contained not directly and formally in revelation and ecclesiastical deliverance, but
only as it were in their principle, from which they are . . . deduced by a logical
operation. . . . On the question how far the infallibility of the Church extends in
regard to such conclusions, and whether and how far such deductions drawn by the
Chutch are the object of fides divina and therefore dogmas in the strictest sense,"
etc. Compare also the distinctions between propositiones hsereticie, erroneje, hxiesi
le and fals^.

CHAPTER III.

THE ISSUES OF DOGMA IN ANTITRINITARIANISM AND
SOCINIANISM.

I, Historical Introduction.

No Protestant Christian will read the prefaces that are prefixed
to the Racovian Catechism (1609 lat, cf. the edition : IrenopoU
post annum 1659) and to the German edition of that work
(Rackavv, 1608, 1612) without being stirred to inward sympathy.
The former certainly contains a splendid confession of the
freedom of faith,' and the latter connects itself with the work

1 "Catechesin scu Institutionem teligionis Christians, prouC earn ex sactis littctis
haustam ptofitelur ecclesia nostra, damus in lacem. QuiE quia in non paucis al]
alioTum Christ ianonim orbita disudit, non est quod quis putet, nos earn emittendo
in publicum omaibas diversuni sendentibua, quasi misso feciali, bellum indicere aut
dassicum canere sd pugnandum, Oitque, ut Poeta ait, ad 'Anna ciere vicos,
Martemque accendere canlu.' . . . Non ijnmerito et bodie conqueruntur complures
viri pii ac docti, confessiones ac catecheses, quie hisce temporibus eduntur editfeque
sunt a variis Christianorum ecclesiis, nihii fere aliud ease, qnam poma Eiidos, quam
tubas litium et vexilla immortaliura inter mortales odiorum alque factionum, Idque
propterea, quod confessiones et catecheses ists ila proponanlur, ut its conscientix
adstringantur, ut juEum imponatur hoitiinibus Christianis jiiiandi in verba atque
senlenlias homiaum, utque e^e staluanlur pro fidei norma, a qui quisquis vel unquam
transvefsum deflexerit, is continuo anathematis fulmine feriatus et pro hieretico, pro
homlne deteriimo ac teterrima habeatur, c^loque proscriptus ad tartara detrudatur
atque infernaiibus ignibus cruciandus adjudicetur. Absit a nobis ea mens, imo
amentia, Dum catechesin scribimus, nemine qnicquam prcescribimus ; dum sententias
nostras exprimimns neminem opprimimus. Cuique liberum esto suas mentis in
leligione judicium : dummodo et nobis liceat aiiimi nostri sensa de rebus divinis citra
cujusquam injuriara atque infectalionem depromere. Haw; enim eat aurea iUa pro-
phelandi liberlas, quam sacne litters Novi lostrumenti nobis impense commendant,
et in qua apostolorum primitiva ecclesia nobis exemplo suo facem prs^lulit . . . qui
vero estis vos, homunciones, qui, in quibus hominihus deo visum est spiiitus sui ignem
accendere, in iis eum extinguere ac suffocare connitamini ? . . . An vos soli geritis
davem scientis, ut nihil clausum vobis sit in sacris litteris, nihil obsignatum : ut
118

CHAP. Ill,] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 1 19

of Luther, and gives a place to the Socinian Catechism in the
history of the Reformation movement which began with
Luther.' But both belong to that epoch in the development of
the Socinian Church, during which it was already strongly
influenced from without ; that Latin preface shows the influence
of Arminianism, and the German preface does not represent the
ortginai Attitude of the Unitarian-Socinian movement.

Socinianism, however, is Itself a secondary product, and
Faustus Sozzini was an Epigone; but an Epigone as Calvin
and Menno Simons were Epigones. As Calvin was the first to
give to the Romanic Reform movement its form, its force, and
its attitude, and as Simons formed a Church out of the Baptist
movement in the Netherlands and North-West Germany, so
there belongs to Faustus Sozzini the great merit of introducing
qviicquid occliiserilis, recludcre nemo queat et quicquid recliweiilis, nemo valeat,
occludere ? Cut non meministis, unicum dumtaxat esse magis^Cnim nastium, i:ui isia
competunt, Christum ; nos vero omnes fraties esse, quonim nulli potestas ac dominium
in coii5cieiiCiB.ni alteiius cnncessum est? ECsi enim fratium alii uliis sint doccioreSi
libertate tamen el jure filiationis omnea sequales sunt." On the Catechism having
undergone changes since its first appearing, the redactors express themselves Ihns j
" Non erubescendum putamus, si ecclesia. nostra in qnibnsdara proficiat. Non
uliique clamandum credimus 'slo in filo, hie pedem jigo, hinc me dimoveri ne

sententia pnefracte atqtie obstinato animo permanere. Christiaiii philosophi seu
sapientisE illius supemae venientis atndidati est, fi-siSiju esse non aiOaSij,
persuideri facilem esse, non pertinaciter sibi placenlcm, paratumque cedere senlentia,
ubi alia viceiit melior. Hoc animo semper nostra edimiis."

ipierace addressed to the illustrious University of Wittenberg: "For the further
reason that we consider it proper, that the holy truth of the gospel, which originated
in this illustrious University with the excellent man. Dr. Luther, end went forth from
thence into the whole of Christendom, should return lo it with interest and in greater
perfection and be laid before it for its consideration. But if anyone thinks (hat God
was to repair In so few years, through Ur. Luther and others helping him, all the
injury done by Antichrist during so many centuries, he fails to take account of God's
way of acting and of His wisdom in all such matters — that all things, namely, are
not revealed by Him at once, but that the revelation is by little and little, that human
weakness may not be overturned and crushed by the perfection of His revelation,
God revealed so much to men through Dr. Luther that devout hearts received great
help. ■ . . But because beyond this many other doctrines still remained that may be
great hindrances to men's obtaining the same salvation, it has been God's will
gradually to point out these also through His servants, and in place of the detestable
and wearisome error to bring to view more perfeclly from day to day His saring truth.
We believe, moreover, that in accordance with His deep counsel He has used our
congregations in Poland also," etc.

120 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. HI.

order into the wild, fermenting elements, and reducing them to
the unity of Church life.

) Viewed from the standpoint of Church history and the
history of dogma, Socinianism has as its direct presuppositions
the great medieval anti-ecclesiastical movements. Out of
these it developed itself ; it clarified them, and combined them
into a unity. It had itself, however, its main roots in the most
sober and judicious critical movements of the past, just on
that account it succeeded in bringing under restraint what was
wild, extravagant, and fanciful. Anyone who examines even
I rapidly the characteristic features of the Socinian system of
\ doctrine will meet at once with a Scotistk- Pelagian and with a
vcritico-Humanistic'^ element On closer inspection he will per-
ceive also the remnants still of an Anabaptist element ; on the
other hand there is an entire absence of Pantheistic, Mystical,
Chihastic, and socialistic elements.

That Socinianism represents an issue of the history of dogma
will be disputed by no one. All that could be disputed is that
it belongs to the universal history of dogma at all. This objec-
tion has already been replied to above (p. 23J. A movement
that was the precipitate of most of what had been occurring in
vague form alongside the Church throughout centuries, but
above all a movement in lifhich the critical thoughts of tlie
ecclesiastical theology of the fourteenth and fifteetith centuries had
come to unfold themselves freely, and which at the same time
gathered into itself the impulses of the newer age [Renaissance)
dare not be regarded as a movement of secondary importance.
What is characteristic of the Antitrinitarian and Socinian move-
ments of the sixteenth century lies in this, that they represent that
destruction of Catholicism- which could be effected on the basis of
what was furnished by Scholasticism and the Renaissance while
there was no essential deepening or quickening of religion. In
Antitrinitarianisra and Socinianism the Middle Ages and the
newer period stretch forth hands to each other across the
Reformation. That which was regarded in the fifteenth
century as so incapable of being formed, an alliance between

1 Even externally this flumanistic element is sliaped in an exlcemely chaiai
my, e.g. in the Latin Preface quoted in part above.

CHAP. III.] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 121

Scholasticism and the Renaissance, here appears concluded —
in extremely different ways as regards particular points. Just
for that reason there is inherent in these movements a prophetic
element also. Much is already anticipated in them with
wonderful definiteness, which appears, after brief advances,
entirely suppressed within the Evangelical Churches for the
time, because the interest in religion in the form that had been
once adopted here absorbed everything for more than 150 years,
and in an incredibly short time became enveloped in Schol-
asticism. Historians of culture and philosophers for whom
religion is a matter of indifference or a disturbing element, have
therefore every reason to be deeply interested in the Antitrini-
tarians and Socinians, in the " Enthusiasts " and pantheists, and,
in contrast with them, to deplore the melancholy half-measures
of the Reformers. But it does not follow from this that, on the
other hand, one who recognises in the Reformation the true
progress of history, is entitled to pass by these parties unsym-
pathetically or with disapproval. The critical elements which
they developed brought proBt not only to science, but ultimately
to religion also, and they themselves only disappeared after
Protestantism had included within itself in the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries all that they could furnish of abiding
substance.^

We give in what follows a sketch from the point of view of tJie
history of dogma of the religious movements which accompanied
the Reformation in the sixteenth century, and conclude with an
account of Socinianism (Unitarianism), which alone issued in the
formation of a distinct Church.^ The breach with history, the
despair about the Church as it already existed, the conviction
regarding the divinely-given rights of the individual, were
common to all the parties. Just on that account they cannot
be sharply separated from each other. Starting from the most

I The rapid developmenl of the Refotmalion .Stale Churches and National Churches
— the friendiy altitude aS'^umed IQwaids the Lutheran Refonnatioii, tiist by the Eledoi
of Saxon;, and then by other Princes — also brought it about, certainly, thai thete was
a. rapid keeping clear of all that one was not necessarily obligetl to adopt.

' The formation of the Mcnnonite Church docs not belong to the history of dogma,
because in the matter ot Christian doctrine^it is otherwise as regards ethics— it fell
back mainly on the definttioni of the Ancient Churches.

122 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IIt_

different points (Chiliasni, M/sticism, Rationalism) they arrived
not infrequently at the same results, because the spirit by which
they were influenced in dealing with history was the same.

I. One group of parties attached themselves to the pantheistic
Mysticism of the Middle Age^, but at the same time to the new
culture of the Renaissance, steeped in Platonism, and by havinf^
it as their aim to study, not words, but facts in religion and
science, represented the extreme opposition to " Aristotle," i.e.,
to the hollow Nominalistic Scholasticism of the Church. They
destroyed the old dogma formally and materially. Formally
in so far as they not only abandoned respect for the decisions-
of the Church, but also addressed themselves to setting aside
the Bible as a law of doctrine (norma normansV and to adding
to or placing above it the " inner light," i.e., the personally ex-
perienced revelation of God and the speculation of the emanci-
, pated spirit ; materially, inasmuch as the dogmas of the Church
{Trinity, Chri.stology) began to be pantheistically re- interpreted
by them, or to be allowed to drop as being erroneous. It is.
well-known that that was not new; as long as ecclesiastical
dogma had existed, i.e., from the fourth century, such tendencies
had accompanied the Church, partly in concealed, partly in
(-open, form. But it was new that among those representing
( these tendencies, psychological observation, nay, experience in
/ general, began to play an important part, and that there de-
I veloped itself a distinctive self-consciousness (in the religious,
the mora!, and the secular). In this way they attracted to
themselves elements that raised their work high above what
was merely fanciful. Certainly the most of those who are to be

'That Augustine also (see Vol, V., p. 99 f., 125 f. note) exercised an influence
here — at least on Seb. Franck — has been pointed out by Hegler in his Monograph,
p. 283 f., nole. The same applies to the view stated by Thamer, that a thing is not
trae because it is in the Bible, but via vend. But I cannot see that the right stand-
point against verbal inspiration is found in the perception that "Scripture is an
eternal allegory." That was already the view of very many Mystics of the ancient
and niedixvaJ. Churches, and just on Iheir account an evangelical Reformation was
necessary. That proposition, rather, is nothing hut the unveiling of the inspiration
dogma. There is mote " historical criticism " involved in Luther's position towai-ds
Scripture (" Prefaces") than in the attitude of the most enlightened enthuiiiasls who.
reject the letter. While saying this, I have no wish to underrate the wonderful great-
ness of the lonely thinker, Sebastian Fra.nck.

IISTORICAL INTRODUCTrON.

I2J

CHAP. Hi.]

included within this group knew as little as their Catholic op-
ponents did of what evangelical religion is. They confounded
it with the lofty flights of metaphysics, and just for that reason
they still stood with one foot within the condemned circle of
the dogma which they contested.' But in spite of their hostile
attitude towards ecclesiastical Protestantism, some of them un-
doubtedly came under the influence of Luther. Determined by
him, but at the same time freed from the burden of the past^
rich and courageous in thought, possessed of strong and warm
feelings, they were able in forward movements to raise themselves
above ali their contemporaries. But their religion, as a rule,
lacked the weight of simple and earnest simplicity ; their science
— some of them were discoverers, but at the same time charlatans
— lacked sobriety and restraint, and a restless temperament
made it appear as if they were not to be confided in. With this
group, which has a great importance in the history of philosophy,
there were connected — nay, there directly belonged to it in part
— on the one hand Schwenkfeld, Valentine Weigel, Giordano
Bruno^the last mentioned shows by his appealing to the
"divine" Cusanus, where the ultimate source is to be sought for
—on the other hand, Sebastian Franck, the Reformer, strongly
influenced by Luther, and, for a time, Theobald Thamer,^ the '
former in more than one respect citizen of a future Evan-

1 At the dose of his life, Thamer really became a Catholic again, and Schwenkfeld
would ralher have become Romish than Lutheran. That is significant.

= Cf. Cairiere, Die philosophkche Weltanschauung det Reformat ionszeit, 2 Vols.,
2od ed., 1887, who deals very fully with Sebastian Franck, Weipel, Bohme, and,
above all, Giordano Bruno. On Schwenkfeld see Hahn, Schwenkfeldii sent, de
Chtisti persona Bt opere, 1847, Erbkam, Gesch, der protest. Secten, 1848, Kadelhach,
Cesch. Scb.'s und der Schwenkfeld ianer, 1S61, Henke, Neuete Kirchengesch., I.,
p. 395 S. On Weigel see the Art. by H. Schmidt in Heizc^s R.-Encykl.' Vol,
XVI. On Bruno compare the literature in Uebetweg-Heinie, Gesch. d. Philos. On
Franck see Bischof, Seb. Franck, 1857, Hase, Seb. Franck, 1869 (Gottfried Arnold
again discovered him) and Lalendorf, Franck's erite .Sprichwoiteisammlung, 1876,
Weinkauff in the Zlschr. Alemannia. Jth Vol, (1877), p. 133 fT., Dilthey, Archiv. f.
Gesch. d. Philos., 5th Vol., p. 389 ff. ; also the Art, by Men in Herzog's Real.-
Encykl,', Vol. IV., Henke I., p. 399 ff., but, above all, the excellent monograph by
H^let, Geist u. Schrifl bei S. Franclt, 1892. On Thamcr see Neander, Thamer,
1842. On the younger spiritual kinsman of Franck, ihe Dutch Coomhett, Dihhey
gives information : Archiv, f. Gesch. d. Philos., Vol. V., p. 487 ff.

124

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[chap. III.

gelical Church that is to discard the Catholic law of the
letter.'

3. A second group, the limits of which cannot be determined,
had its strength in its opposition to political and sacramental
Catholicism, and brought into the field against this a new
socio-political order of world and Church, Apocalypticism and
,'Chiliasm, or contented itself with discarding everything "ex-
I ternal," and adhering to a "Biblical Christianity" — but with a
constitutional order for the true Christian communities. This
group also simply continued the medisevat opposition to the
Catholic Church, while it was evidently the ideal of the Fran-
ciscan Spirituales, or the ideals akin to it of the Waldensians
and Hussites that were regulative here.^ But the spirit of a

■ Among other things, it is to be conceded to Dilthey Ibat the modern speculative
tiieology (the religious universal theism and pantheistic deteiminism), which
developed itself out of M3ratii:ism, has more distinct precursors in some sectaries of the
Reformation period than in Luther wilh his " positiyistic penetration." But what,
in my opinion, has more significance is that they drew practical and theoretical con-
clusions from their piety to which Luther was unable lo force his way. What vra.s
still held in common, the old dogma, he utilised with the view of showing Christians
again the way to God. Of the fact that this common element was just at that lime
beginning to be broken up through the operation of forces thai asserted themselves
outside the doctrine of salvation, he had scarcely any inkling, or he phut himself
entirely up from the impression of this. The tragedy of this historical fact is deeply
moving ; but when did it happen otherwise in history? (see Dilthey, i.e. pp. 385 ff.).

' RLtschl has directed attention to this. The regulative principles that Christianity
must be realised as fellowship among the actively holy, that inability 10 sin may be
attained, and that the Church has only a meaning as the product of the actively holy,
derive their character from the Middle Ages, or say, from the andent Church. In
numerous inves ligations, last of all in tlie dissertation, " Die Anfange der Refiirma-
tion and die Ketierschulen " (Vortr. und Abhandl. aus der Comenius-Gesellschaft, 4.
Jahrg. Stiiclt i u. 2, 1897), Keller has endeavoured to show that the Anabaptists and
the kindred sects stood in direct and exclusive c
(only the importance they attributed to late baptism is
been a novelty). Along some lines he has really den
not its exclusiveness, and, in my opinion, he bas also over-estimated the positive im-
portance of the " Heretical Schools." A good and very complete sketch of the his-
tory of the Baptists has been furnished by A. H. Newman, ' ' A History of Anti-Pedo-
Eaptism fiom the Rise of Pedobaptism till 1609," Philadelphia, 1B97. One after
another of these strong, worthy, martyr -spirited figures passes before us : most oi
them contemplate joyfully the sure prospect of a violent death. Among the numerous
monographs of which Newman gives a list, pp. 394-406, the works of Loserth are

with the Waldensians
■presented by him as having
ted this

; forthePre-Refotmat'

e have a history of the Inquisi

CHAP. III.] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 13$

new age reveals itself among them, not only in their entertain-
ment in many ways of Reformation thoughts, but also in the
stress they lay on Christian independence. It is with this in
view that their opposition to infant baptism is to be understood,
which was a protest of the independent individual believer
against the magic of redemption and the sacramental " char-
acter." From the standpoint of the history of dogma this
opposition was the main characteristic of the Anabaptists; for
all other features do not belong to the whole group. With
regard to dogma some of them are good Catholics, otliers are
Lutheran or Zwinglian, others again are pantheistic and anti-
trinitariau. It is very remarkable that the antitrinitarian ele-
ment was not more strongly developed among them ; for it
would seem as if the sharp antagonism to the reigning Church
should necessarily have driven them to Antitrinitarianism, since
the doctrine of the Trinity and Chrlstology form the chief part
of the old detested Catholicism, and the discarding of infant
baptism involves the dissolution of the Church as understood in
ancient times. In this vastly great group also, which had its
representatives during the sixteenth century in Germany, the
Netherlands, Switzerland, Venice, Moravia, Poland, Livonia,
and Sweden, and had connection with the Waldensians {and
" Bohemians"), the modern spirit displayed itself in close asso-
ciation with the mediaeval. Not only did the perception find
frequent expression here also that the use of the Bible as a law-
book is Catholic and a check upon religion — though, on the
other hand, certainly, it was just among the Anabaptists that
the most rigid Biblicism had its fanatical supporters — but even^
the simple evangelical spirit, which sought in religion for nothing
but religion, and the conviction of the freedom of conscience,
found a home in Anabaptist communities. We owe it to in-
vestigations carried on during recent years that the pictures of
excellent Christians, from the circles of the Anabaptists, have
been presented to us, and not a few of these figures, so worthy of

thirteenth to the seventeenth century, shall wc be able
WIS carried on for well-nigh five hundred years againal
by the Confessionitl Churches,

126 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. III.

honour and so full of character, have become more intelligible
to us than the heroic Luther aiid the iron-willed Calvin.^

3. A third group — whose representatives are almost entirely
men of learning, natives of Ttaly moreover — brings before us
the thorough-going development of Nominalistic Scholasticism
lunder the influence of Humanism. Only as long as Nominalistic
Scholasticism maintained an attitude of submission to the
Church, and just on that account sought with the one hand
skilfully to rebuild, or to uphold, what with the other hand it
Tiad demolished, was a union impossible with the critical
culture of the Renaissance. But as soon as it withdrew from
-the Catholic Church, and kept simply to its own points of
■departure, independence of rational thought, theism, and
autonomous morality, and thus really abandoned what its
rational reflection had abandoned long before 'Catholic Dogma,
Sacraments, etc.), modern culture could combine with it. That
.culture contributed the historic element, the return to the

1 Afier the Aoabaptists had sunk into oblivion, and even Gnttriied Aniold had not
succeeded in awaking interest in, and intelligent appreciation of, their memory, the
recollection of them 'ias been revived in our <Iays on different sides and in different
wayii. In connection with this exaggerations were inevitable (Hagen, Deutschlands
litL u. relig. Verhaltnisse i. Ref.-Zeitalter, 1841 ff. ; Keller, Die Reformation und
dicalteren Retormparteien, 1885). Bat the estimate of them has certainly und eigone
a change, having become much more favourable than it was in former time.s, and
along with Cornelius, Kampschulte, and especially the historians of the Netherlands,
Keller has contributed much to this. The more closely the history of the Reforma-
tiOD in particular provinces and towns lias been studied, the more apparent has it
become that these Baptists, entering frequently into alliance with Waldensian and
Hussite elements, or falling back on former mediieval movements, formed the soil
into which the Reformation was received, anii that for many dccennia they continued
closely inter-connected with it in many regions. The strict conception of the evan-
gelical principle which Ritschl has emphasised is certainly legitimate from a dogmatic
point of -view ; but it must not be summarily applied to the phenomena of the Refor-
mation period, otherwise the risk is run of choking the springs from which living
water flowed. Again, we must not treat the " inner word " of the "enthusiasts"
as a bugbear to be brought helplessly to the ground by the sword of the " Scripture-
principle" ! for however certain it is that real "enthusiasm" promoted itself by
means of the " inner word," it is equally certain that the " inner word " was also the
expression for a religious freedom which Luther in his day knew very well, but of
\ which he never so expressed the title that it became in his hands a dogmatic principle
I limiting the Scriptui e- principle. The testimonium spiritns aancti internum which
was left behind to the Epigones did not supply the want ; yet it is an important germ
for a future that is still to be looked forward to in Protestantism.

CHAP. Ill,] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 127

sources, the appreciation of philology, the respect for the
classical in everything that comes under the category of
antiquity. In no period have the Italians distinguished them-
selves by a high degree of speculative capacity. So it is not to
be wondered at that intellectual Humanism formed the means
by which they delivered themselves from dogma in the
sixteenth century. A real religious interest also was at work
in this mode of emancipation ; where religion is not a concern
for heart and conscience, there is no endeavour to improve its
public expression. But the religious motive, in the strictest
sense of the term, the motive that asserts itself within the
Christian religion as the power of the living God, before whose
Holy Spirit nothing that is one's own retains its independence,
was'very remote from these Italians. Nor did they succeed in
bringing about a popular movement even in their own native
country; they continued to be officers without an army.'

1 We have no exhaustive account of this entire school. Reference has srill to be
made to Trechsel, Die protest, Aiititrinitarier vor F. Socin {2 voIe., 1839, 1844) and
the special studies ia Socinianism. Yet see the valuable historic hints which Ritschl
has given (RecQitrett. u. Veratihn., 1st ed., I., p. 311): "The fact that Fiustns
ElSrmed of the hypothesis of Duns (God could also have redeemed us through a mere
man) that it represented the real and neces&ary, presupposes a radical hreach with
the universal faith of the Church. To this breach his uncle (Lelio), as nell as him-
self and many other Italians, were led by the stale of Chtislian society in Italy.
Here the empire had not recovered the authority it had lost in dealing with Gregory
VII. and Innocent III. ; here the Roman Church appeared as the only possible form
of Christian society. The Church dominated the masses of the people, whom 00
expectation of ecclesiastical reform prepared for receiving the Reformation influences
from Switzerland and Germany. It was for the most part only men of literary
culture who were accessible to these influences, liut oviing to the state of public
opinion and to the unbroken power of the ecclesiastical organs, these men were almost
everywhere hindered from the beginning fnjm making a public appearance in the
congregatiuns, and were forced to form themselves into secret societies. Their
interest in the Reformation, even if it was originally directed to its ethical core,
found there neither the requisite fostering nor the requisite control that are furnished
by gi'^Tig piactical expression in public to the general religious consciousness.
Hence it was that among so many Italians who attached themselves lo the Refonna-
tioD, what was nourished was not the Church spirit, but, on the contrary, either the
Anabaptist Sectarianism or the inclination to subject all dogmas to Scholastic criticism,
or both together. For the Scholastic interest finds it as natural lo deal critically with
the doctrines of the Trinity and reconciliation as to frame the correct notion of
justification,"

128

HISTORY OF DOGMA,

[CHAP. III.

4. The circles described under i and 3 represent in many
' respects contrasted positions, in so far as the former had a
strong leaning to speculative Mysticism, the latter to sober in-
telligent thought. Yet not only did Humanistic interests
throw a uniting bond around them, but out of speculative
Mysticism there developed itself in connection with experience,
to which value was attached, a pure thinking also ; and, on the
other hand, the sober Italian thinkers threw off, under the in-
fluence of the new culture, the bad habits of that conceptual
, mythology in which the earlier Nominalism had indulged.
\ Thus the two schools converged. The most important repre-
sentative of this coalescence was the Spanish thinker — distin-
guished also for his deeply pious spirit — Michael Servede. In
him we see a union of the best of everything that came to
maturity in the sixteenth century, if the Evangelical Reformation
be left out of account. Servede had equal distinction as an
empirical investigator, a critical thinker, a speculative philo-
sopher, and a Christian Reformer in the best sense of the term.
It is a paradox of history that Spain, the country that was least
affected in the sixteenth century by the ideas of the newer age,
and in which at the earliest date Catholicism was restored,
produced this unique man.'

Within the history of dogma there are two main points that
must be kept in view in order to determine the importance of
these movements : (i) their relation to the formal authorities of
Catholicism; (2) their relation to the doctrines of the Trinity
a.id of Christ.^

As to the first point, the statement can be quite brief: the
authority of the presently existing Church as teacher and
judge was renounced by them ; but they contested also the
doctrinal power of the Church of former times. At the same

1 On Servede see the numberle-s works \>y Tolliii, whnse intention was to illustiate
the whole Reformation history " Serve tocenlrically " ; Kawerau in the Theol. Stud,
u. Krit., 1878, III. i Riggenbach in Herzog's R.-Eiicjkl.=, Vol. XIV. ; Trechsel,
Lc. I., p. 61 ff.

* It is important also lo observe that a. large number of the Reformers had a leaning
to Apolalastasis, and that they most hotly contested the Catholic notion of the
Sacrament-i.

CHAP. III.] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 129

time the relation to Holy Scripture continued almost every-
where vague. On the one hand Scripture was ranged against
Church tradition^nay, there was here and there a clinging with
unprecedented legalism to the letter ; on the other hand, the
authority of Scripture was .subordinated to that of the inner
revelation, indeed, as a law for faith it was even entirely set
aside. Nevertheless, it can easily be seen that the efforts that
were made to discard, along with the authority of the Church,
the absolute authority of the Bible, continued without any con-
siderable result. Even those who brought forward the "spirit"
against the " letter " had no thought in many cases of takings
objection to the unique validity of Holy Scripture, but only '
wished to introduce a spiritual interpretation of Scripture, and to
secure recognition for the good title belonging to the free spirit
that is guided by the Spirit of God, The absolute authority of
Scripture passed forth victorious in the end from all the move-
ments that accompanied the Reformation and the Counter-
Reformation. After some slight hesitation, Socinianism took
its stand firmly on the ground of Scripture. There was no
serious attempt made by the Reformers of the sixteenth century
to shake this rock — if we keep out of view some excellent men.
who really understood what the freedom of a Christian man is.'
It was not due, or at least not in the first instance due, to them
therefore, if a relation of greater freedom towards Scripture was
subsequently secured in the Evangelical Church. This was'i
rather a fruit of the inner development of Protestantism ; the 1
continued influence of the ideas of Franck, Weigel, and Bohme I
scarcely had to do with this result. By their holding to the '
Scriptures, as gathered together and made the subject of
' Here Hans Denck, and above all Seb. Franck, are to be mentiuned with tionouri
on Denck compare Keller, Ein Apostel der Wiedertaiifer, 1882, p. 83 IT., and else-
where. Denck holds fast to the word of God jn Holy Scriptuie, but disputes the legiil
suthority of the letter, and is of opinion that only the spirit can discern the spirit of
the divine word. Franck treated the whole question tviih still greater thoroughness
and freedom, see Hegler, I.e., p. 63 If., Henke, Neuere K.-Gesch. L, p. 403 : " In
(he rejection of the * formal principle ' there was much thit was more scriptural than
ihe doctrine that the Spirit is only given through the verbum externum." This is
correct ; but Luther did not contend for the historical Christ under the rigid integu-
ment of the verbum esletnum. The "innerword" nnd the Christus ei sciiptura
sacra pnedicatus are not mutually exclusive.

tiO' HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAT, III.

preaching by the Church, the Reformers gave testimony to
their common ecclesiastical character ; but they certainly
shattered the foundations of the dogma ; for this rests, not on
Scripture alone, but on the doctrinal authority of the Church,
and on the sole right of the Church to expound Scripture,
While the Reformers vindicated this right for themselves and
for every Christian man, yet even on their part there was no
passing (here, certainly, they went hand in hand with early
Protestantism) beyond the contradiction, of asserting the
authority of an extensive collection of books as an absolute
norm, while the understanding of these books was left by them
to the efforts of individuals.
■. As to the second point : in all the four groups described
jabove, Antitrinitarianism developed itself, but in different
■ways.^ In the first group it was not aggressive, but rather
latitudinarian. A latitudinarian Antitrinitarianism of the
kind, however, was not wanting in the ancient Church also, and
■even, indeed, among the Fathers of dogma ; it belongs in a
certain sense to dogma itself. To soften by mystic pantheistic
means the rigid dogma, to reduce the Trinity to " modes "
■(" modi ") and to intertwine it with the thought of the world, to
see in Christology a special instance of a constantly repeated
occurrence, to contemplate the union of the divine and human
natures in Christ as a perfect fusion, which has its ultimate
ground in metaphysics, to recognise in 3.\\ dogmas encasements o(
■truth, etc.— all these things were no novelties,^ Therefore even

' Trechicl, I.e., whose meihod and classification, however, leave much to be
■desired. The Antitrinilarians are dealt with also by Baur and Dornei in their works
■on the history of the doctrines of the Trinity and Christology (cf., also the latter's
■Gesch. d. protest. Theol. and ed., 1867).

^ Even a proposition like that of Seb, Fianck, who, by the nay, was in no sense an
Antitrinitarian : "The Christ after the flesh has served His time," had nn had meaniog
.attaching to it, and has not the old ecclesiastical tradition against it (see also St.
Bernard, Vol. VI., p. tj). P'ranch, who entered very deeply into speculation aboot
the "fiesh" of Christ, only intended to suggest by this that we must not abide by ihe
flesh. Hut must lay hold of the Spirit, the deity (see Hegler, I.e., p. 185 ff., 190 IT.).
Many similar statements are to be found among the Reformers, and it is with injustice
that they are frequently construed as heresies. That the spiritualistic tendency makes
itdclf felt also in connection with the Christological dogma is not 10 be denied, yet
there was really no injury done by lliis. Taken as a whole, the criticism of the two-
nature doctrine was cautious and mild ; radical criticism was alnayi the exception.

CHAP. III.] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. I3I

Schwenkfeld, Weigel, G. Bruno, and their followers were not
Antitrinitarians in the strictest sense of the term, although
their doctrines, by continuing to work as a ferment, served to
break up the old dogma. ^ — Within the second group Anti-
trinitarianism forms only one factor in the opposition to the
state of things in the Church — which is entirely identified with
Babylon — a factor, moreover, which for long did not make its
appearance everywhere, and which, even where it asserted itself
in conjunction with the rejection of infant baptism and with
spiritualism and the doctrine of the apokatastasis, had very
different motives underlying it Denck, perhaps the most
excellent of the Anabaptists, scarcely touched upon Anti-
trinitarianism in his book, " Ordnung Gottes und der Creaturen
Werk " (God's order and the work of His creatures). He was
concerned about more important things than the polemic
against the doctrine of the Trinity; of the deity of Christ he
never had any doubt. If he says in one place : " Omnipotence,
goodness, and righteousness — these constitute the threefoldness,
unity, and trinity in unity of God," this assertion is certainly
not to be understood as directly Antitrinitarian. It was
merely his purpose, as it was Melanchthon's in the first edition
of his ** Loci," to withdraw attention from the Scholastic forms
and fix it on the matter itself.^ His associate, Hatzer, a man
of impure life, spoke incidentally of the " superstition of the
deity of Christ," God being only one ; but it would seem that
he himself afterwards attached little weight to this divergence,
and his denial exercised no influence.^ The doctrine of the

^ Just as the men to be mentioned in the following group carried on a polemic
against the "external" conceptions of reconciliation (the satisfaction dogma); cf.
Ritschl, Rechtfert. u. Versohnung, ist ed., I., pp. 305-311. Miinzer accentuated in
a genuinely mediaeval way only the example of Christ, but was silent as to what was
meant by His being the Reconciler. Denck's misunderstanding of a doctrine of
Luther became the occasion of his entirely rejecting the idea of a general reconcilia-
tion by Christ. Hence in his circle the doctrine of the deity of Christ became open
to question.

2 See Keller, I.e., p. 90. Trechsel, l.c. I., p. 13 if. Yet Trechsel's account has
come to be out of date since Keller wrote. Henke I., p. 418 if.

s Trechsel, l.c. I., p. 13 fF. Keim in the Jahrbb. f. deutsche Theol., 1856, II.,
and in Herzog's R.-E.2, VoL V. One who shared the views of Hatzer was Kautz
of Bockenheim.

132

HISTORY OF JJOGMA.

[CHAP. III.

Trinity was more strenuously combated by Campanus in his
book, "Wider alle We!t nach den Aposteln " ("With the
Apostles against all the world "), a book that led Melanchthon
to declare that the author deserved to be strung up (des " lichten
Galgens" fiir wiirdig erkliiren). Yet the positive discussion of
the question (" Divine and Holy Scripture restored and
amended"), in which the doctrine of two divine Persons was
maintained, the Son being declared consubstantial with the
Father, and yet subordinate to Hira, remained a singular
jphenomenon.^ In connection with a philosophy of history
I (three Ages), David joris subjected the Trinity to a Sabellian
I treatment, representing it as a threefold revelation of God.^
The restless traveller, Melchior Hoffmann, drew up a system of
Christology resembling that of Valentinian,^ while the Venetian
Anabaptist, Piclro Manelfi, proclaimed Christ to be the divine
man, the child of Joseph and Mary,^ and succeeded in securing
acceptance for this doctrine at an Anabaptist Synod (1550).*
This happened in Italy; for there alone (in some measure also
in Southern France, under the influence of Servede) was there
freally a development of Antitrinitarianism. There alone did
I it come to be, not one moment in conjunction with other
Imoments, but the really critical moment. That took place
/within the third group described above. The union of Humanism
•with the Nominalistic Pelagian tradition in theology gave a place
in Italy to Antitrititarianism as an actual factor in the historic
movement.'^ Here the doctrine of the Trinity was broken up ;
indeed, the discarding of it wa^ regarded as the most important
means for securing purity and freedom for religion. Its place
was taken by the doctrines of the one God and the created

iTrechsel, I.e., pp. 16-34.

"Nippold, in the Zeitacht. f. d. histur. Theol. 1863, 1864. Henke, I., p. 421 f.

"Zur Linden, M.H., ein Prophet det Wiedertaiifer, 1S85.

*On the gospel in Venice see Trechsel II., p. 32 ff. Benrath in the Stud. u.
Krit., 188s, I-

' Manelfi ullitnately became a Catholic again.

«Cf. the entire 2nd Vol. of Trechsel's work. In his e.timate of Sociniaiiism
DilLhcy lays stiess on the Humanistic element, the product uf ihc new Hemieneutics,
while not denying the presence of the Scotislic element (Archiv. f. Gesch. der Philos.,
Vol. 6, p. 97 ff.).

CHAP. IM,] HrHTOUICAL INTRODUCTION. I33

Christ. There remained uncertainty about the lattur doctrine ;
it assumed at one time an Ariaii, at another time an Adoptianist
form : nor was a SabelHan element entirely absent. A note-
worthy parallel to the history of the old Adoptianists in the
Church presents itself here. Like the old Theodotians in
Rome, these new Theodotians also were equally interested in
the Bible and in sober philosophy ; like the old Theodotians,
they formed only a school, in spite of all attempts to found a
Church ; like the former, they worked with grammar, logic, and
exegetical methods, and, as the former probably gave a sub-
. ordinate place to the consciousness of redemption, so the latter
were interested chiefly in religious illuminism (Aufklarung) and
in morals. The more one enters into details {compare also the
proof from Scripture) the more striking does the kinship appear.
Italy produced a whole crowd of Antitrinitarians in the middle
of the sixteenth century.^ Mention is chiefly to be made oH
Camillo Renato, Gribaldo, Blandrata, Gentilis, Occhino, and tht
two Sozzinis,^ This is not the place to give the history of thesi
men, but the general course of the Antitrinitarian movement
deserves consideration. These Reformers were not able to hold
their ground in Italy ; they were obliged to leave their native
land, and they accordingly endeavoured to secure a .settlement
on the borders of it, in the Grisons, and in Southern Switzerland.
Here they were brought into contact with what had been pro-
duced through Calvin's influence. It was a time of great
importance in Church history when Antitrinitarianism, coming
from Lyons in the person of Servede, from the South and from
the Grisons in the persons of the men named above, sought to
obtain the rights of citizenship in Geneva, where a large Italian
colony existed, and in Switzerland. The decision lay in the

' I do not enler into Serrede's doctrine, ibr although this Spaniard was the most
uatstanding AntitrinilariaD in the sixteenth century he did not succeed in exerci.iiog
a permBnent influence. What distinguishes him from most of the Italian Anti-
trinitarians is that his opposition to the docliine of the Trinity was ultimately based
on pantheism. Modaliatic, Gnostic, and Adoplian elements furnished him aid in
building up his Christology, which vias constmcted on NeopUtonic premises. Henke,
I.,p. 423ff.

I'Only the most important names are given here; see many others in Trechsel, II,,
p. 64 ff. On Occhino see th.: Monograph by Benralh, 1S75.

134 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [ClIAP. 111.

hands of Calvin,' and Calvin had allowed himself at one time to
speak very disparagingly about the Niceno-Constantinopolitan
Creed.' Nevertheless, he certainly did not act against his
conviction when he took up the most antagonistic attitude
towards the Antitrinitarians, Although a narrowing of his
standpoint was forced upon him by his opposition to the Geneveae
" libertines," yet the logical carrying out of his system of faith
itself required him to adopt the sharpest measures. He had
Servede burnt, and by his powerful words the other Swiss
Cantons, where there was originally (especially in B^sle) a more
liberal Judgment, were kept from showing toleration and were

' From the beginning the Reformed congregations did not taWe their stand so
strongly ss the Lutheran on the doctrine of the Trinity and the Chalcedonian
Cliristolc^, the reason being that Ihey thought of the Jie/ormation not as merely
distinguishing them from the Catbulie Church, but as meaning a. ireach with the
Church. Just on that account it was much more diiiicult there to lind sufRcient
grounds for a. strict adhesion to ecclesiastical antiquity, especially when some passages
of Scripture were allowed to cieate the conviction that the matter was not so plainly
and unquestionably contained in the Bible. How many men there were in Switzer-
land about the middle of the sixteenth century who, along with the other Catholic
dcclrines, gave at least a subordinate place to those about the Trinity also I Among
the Reformed enormous weight was attached to the argument that it does not befit
& Chiistian to use expressions that are not to lie found in Scripture. Even men like
iVeigerio were very favourably disposed towards the Antitrinitarians (see Trechsel,
11., p. 117 ff.). It was really the case that in some of the Swiss National Churches
Antilrinitarianism came very near being a.pproved. How great the crisis was between
the years 50 and 60 is shown by the numerous letters on the Trinitarian question
written at that time by Epigones of the Reformation. The pressure brought to bear
by the Lutherans would scarcely have been strong enough to drive the free congrega-
tions in Switzerland from the path of freedom. The decision lay in Calvin's hands,
and he declared Antitiinitarianism heretical. This settled the nmtter for Geneva,
Switzerland, the FalatinatE, and indeed for all the regions that were under the iron
rule of the great lawgiver. If the question is simply dealt with by itself, it roust be
deeply lamented that ttie Reformation, with a great advance immediately before it,
did not take the decisive step. Yet if we consider that the most prominent Anti-
trinitarians had no discernment of Luther and Zwingli's conception of faith, and were
satisfied in part with moralism and illuminism, our conclusion must be that the tolera-
tion of them in the sixteenth century would probably have meant the dissolution of
evangelical faith, in the first instance within the area of Calvin's influence. By his
draconian measures against the Antitrinitarians Calvin protected faith — i.e., Luther's
faith.

"See Kollner, Symbolik, I., p. 48; "palres Nicenos fanalieos appellai— s.
Nicfenum battologias arguit — carineu canlillando magis aptum, quam confessionis
formukm."

CHAP. III.] HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 13S

brought round to accept his strict principle. The Anti-
trinitarians had meanwhile found an asylum in Poland and
Transylvania. That the Italians were attracted to Poland
cannot be explained merely from the great freedom that
prevailed there in consequence of the permanent anaj^chy
(sovereignty of the great landed proprietors) ; we must rather
remember that there was perhaps no other country in Europe
in the sixteenth century whose towns were so Italian as those
of Poland. Poland did not, like Germany, pass through a
Renaissance of its own ; but the direct intercourse between
Italy and Poland was of the Liveliest kind : Italian master
builders erected the splendid structures in Cracow, Warsaw, etc.,
and the more recent publications on Poh'sh Humanists show us
how active an intercourse of a mental kind there was between
J'oland and Italy. It was in part owing to these relationships
that the Italian Reformers came to Poland ; they found their
way to Transylvania, no doubt, simply because it lay on the
confines of Christendom, and the general disorder prevailing
there was in their favour. So also they found their way to
England in the days of Edward VI., when the religious state of
things there seemed to be undergoing a complete dissolution.

In Transylvania and Poland there arose Antitrinitarian con-
gregations ; indeed, in Transylvania the energetic Blandrata
succeeded in securing formal recognition for the Antitrinitarian
Confession as the fourth Christian Confession.' Within the
anarchy freedom of conscience also found a home. Blandrata's
positive confession, which he had kept concealed so long as he
was in Switzerland and Lesser Poland, was strictly Unitarian.
He did not recognise the eternal Godhead of Christ, but saw in
Christ a man chosen by God and exalted to God. But the
Unitarian Church soon became separated into a right and left.
The latter went on to reject the miraculous birth of Jesus, and
to deny His claim to divine worship (Nonadorantism). Its chief
representative was Franz Davidis.^ To help in opposing this

' In our literature we possess as yet no monograph on Blandrala ; his " confessio
antitrbitaria" was re-issucd by Hcnke 'in 1794, cf. Heberle in the Tub. Iheol,
Ztschr. 1S40, IV. An Italian monograph appeared in Padua in JS14 : Malacarne,
Commenlario delle opere di Giorgio Biantlrate, nobile Saluziese.

- He is regarded at ihe present day as ihc father of Transylvanian Unitarianism, and

136

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[chap. 111.

section, Fausto Sozzini came to Transylvania (1578), and with
his aid Nonadorantism was really successfully suppressed. In
Poland the Antitrinitarians mingled at first with the Calvinists.'
Beyond the country where it originated, Calvinism appeared to
be the most liberal confession, because it expressed itself in the
strongest language against Romanism, Yet even in Poland
discussions arose between the Calvinists and the " Arians,"
especially after the Synod of Petrikau (1562), which led to a
definite breach. From that time there existed in Poland what
were strictly speaking Unitarian congregations, which had, how-
ever, no fixed order. Anabaptist, Socialist, Chiliastic, Liber-
tinist and Nonadorantist tendencies here found room for
themselves and sought to assert their influence. At this point
Fausto Sozzini made his appearance. With the clearest insight
into what was for him the truth, he united the most determined
force of will and the gifts of a bom ruler. Out of the seriously
endangered, unorganised communities he created a Church. In
Poland arose a counterpart — poor enough, certainly, as a Church
— to that Church in Geneva, which had expelled Antitrini-
tarianism.^ It was quite especially to the credit of Sozzini that
a new Confession developed itself from Unitarian ism, the
Christian character of which cannot be denied, and which, after
a history rich in dramatic incidents, found a place for itself in
England and America and produced excellent men.^

But with all regard for the personality of Sozzini, it cannot be

ss such is held in high esteem even by the English »nd North American Unitarians ;
on him sfe the arts, in Ersch and Gruber's Encycl. and in the Kathol. Kirohenlex.*
III. ; alaoForek, Socinianiam. I., p. 157 ff., 258 S. The subdivisions which followed,
ranging from Nonadorantism Co the holders of Juilaism, are of no importance histori-
oJly, though interesting,

1 As also in Transylvania and England. Within the sphere of Calvin's influtnct-
Antitrinitamnism could be checked only by a prohibition supported by force. On
Antitrinitariani-m in the Calvinistic Palatinate, see Ilenke, I., p. 433 f.

>On the consolidation of Polish UnitQrianism into Socinianism see the account nf
Foek (Socinianism, ist Vol., 1847) pp. 137-'S3, Fock's book \i nn excellent piect-
of work, which, however, were it to appear to-day, would be branded as heretical.
On the elder Soraini, see E. Burnal, Lelio'Socin., Vevey, 1S94.

' On Socinianism see the Protestant histories of Creeds ; Rambach, Hist. u. theol.
Ein!. i. d. Relig.-Streitiglt. d. ev. K. m. d. Soc,, Snd Pan, 1753. Besides FockV
work, see also Ritschl, Rtchlf. u. Vetsohn. isl ed. !., pp. 311-337.

CHAP. III.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. I37

denied that his faith was very different from the Evangelical,
and that the criticism to which he subjected the Church doc-
trine shows itself to be a logical carrying out of the Scotistic
theology.' That has been pointed out in a masterly way by
Ritschi.^ The Italian Reformer, who only found a field for his
activity beyond the confines of the Roman Empire, placed him-
self also outside the general ecclesiastical faith and outside the
Church. He did not merely correct, as on superficial view he
seems to have done, the ecclesiastical doctrine, he ignored the
correct tendencies which led the Church to the doctrines of the
Godhead of Christ, the Trinity, and satisfaction. One can agree
almost everywhere with the formal criticism to which the
Socinians subjected the orthodox doctrine and yet hold that
the representatives of the latter displayed a much surer under-
standing of the gospel than their opponents. But the expression
in which this understanding of theirs was embodied — dogma —
no longer satisfied. It was ripe for dissolution, and the Socinians
put an end to it. That this refutation of it in the seventeenth
century had a comparatively slight effect was due not only to
the special circumstances of the times, but in a still higher de-
gree to the resistance every religion makes to being driven from
its positions by a criticism arising from without.

2. The Socinian Doctrine.

We have a comprehensive and detailed account of the doctrine
of the Socinians in the Racovian Catechism (1639).* The way
in which this work is laid out and the fulness of its detail are in
themselves characteristic. Religion is the perfect and correct
knowledge of the saving doctrine. Here the Socinians are at
one with the Epigones of the Reformation, who ako had it in
view to make out of the Church a School. This principle,

' Dilthey directs attention to the spiritual conneclioii of the Socinians (anti I
Arminians) with Erasmus (ArchLv. f. Cesch. d. Philoa., VoL VI., p. S7 ff.).

5 See Ge&ch. Sciidien 2. Christ!. Lehre v. Gott, 3n! Art. in the Jahrlih. f. deul.sche
Theol. Xril., p. 268 ff., 283 ff., and in Rechtf. u. Versbhn. I. i.e.

* I quote from the edition Irenopoli past annual, 1659.

I3S HISTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAI". [I!.

when logically carried out, leads to denying the Christian
religion of all who have not this knowledge. Some Lutherans
in the seventeenth century went so far as this. Yet Faustus is
willing to assert the thought, that there are other Christian
Churches besides his own : Fie is tolerant. Side by side with,
the definition which restricts the Church to those who have the
" sacred doctrine " stands the recognition of the other Churches.
But wherein, then, consists that " doctrina salutaris," if the
greatest opposition exists between Socinianism and the doctrine
of the other Churches? Faustus has omitted to point that
out.

The way in which the Catechism is drawn up is as Scholastic
as possible. It is a course of instruction for producing theo-
logians. After the definition : "The Christian religion is the
way of attaining to eternal life that is pointed out by God
through Jesus Christ," ' it begins with the question as to where
we learn this way, and answers : " From the Holy Scriptures,
especially of the New Testament." - The foremost position is.
now assigned to the New Testament in the doctrine of religion.
All fanatical elements are suppressed. That the New Testament
is the sole regulative authority, source, and norm of religion
cannot be declared more positively and dryly than by
Socinianism. The Christian religion is the Theology of the New-
Testament. In this there is the basis of the positive character
which Faustus was led to give to his creation—a positiveness,
certainly, which is astounding, as soon as we begin to reflect upon
what religion really is. All knowledge of the divine is pro-
duced from without, and it is simply included in the book that
has once for all been given. It is not that Christ is the revela-
tion in the book ; but " in the book God has made manifest
Himself, His will, and the way of salvation " (p. S). If we
recall here the fact that similar expressions are to be found in
Calvin, we must not forget that as little as any other of the
Reformers did Calvin ever leave it out of view, that the Bible is
given to faith. But of this we find nothing in Faustus. There

■ "Religio Christiana est via a deo per Jesum Chrislum monstcata vitam ^ternani

° "Ex sacris litteris, prresertim Novi Testamenti."

CHAP, in.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. 13^

is not even an approach made to discovering lines of connection
between the outward revelation contained in the Bible and the
nature of religion ; what we have, rather, is— on the one hand
the book, on the other hand the human understanding. The
latter is really the second principle in the Socinian dogmatic, ,
which has been not incorrectly described therefore as Supra-,,
natural Rationalism. There is set over against the revelation '.
contained in the Bible — not the man who longs after God, whoy |
.sunk in sin and guilt, has no peace or blessedness — but simply '
man, as a mortal, but rational being, who is on the outlook for
eternal life. Religion is a matter of interest for rational man.
Faustus does not carry his conception of religion beyond this,
undoubtedly correct, though extremely general perception. In
this, and in his Biblicism, he reminds us of the Antiochene
theologians.

Section I. of the Catechism is entirely devoted to Holy
Scripture. In the first chapter the " certitude of Holy Scrip-
ture "{" certitude sacrarum litterarum ") is treated of (pp. i-io).
Here external proofs, some of them of an extremely doubtful
kind, are first adduced for the trustworthiness of Holy Scrip-
ture. Then an appeal is made to its being inconceivable that
God should have allowed the falsifying of a book in which He
revealed Himself, His will, and the way of salvation. Vet an
attempt is certainly made in the end to prove the credibility of
the book from the truth, rather, of the Christian religion : the
book is true, because it is the only source of the true religion.
But why is the Christian religion true ? Because its founder was
divine (divinus). How can that be proved? From His
miracles, which are attested even by the Jews, and which cannot
have been demonic, because Christ was an enemy of the devil,
and from His resurrection. The resurrection, again, is to be
established on the testimony of those who saw Him and went
to death for this faith. We have only the choice^of regarding
the disciples and all Christians who have lived afterwards as of
unsound mind^Kjr of believing in the Resurrection of Christ.
But, further, the history of the Christian religion furnishes a
proof of its truth ; how could so many, relinquishing ali earthly .
goods, and with the sure prospect of distress, shame, and death!

f40 HISTORY OF DOCIMA. [CHAP. III.

before them, have adopted it, if the Resurrection nf Christ were
not a truth ? Finally, the truth of the Christian religion is
proved by the nature of the religion itself (ex ipsius religionis
natura) ; for both the commands and the promises of this
religion are so lofty, and so transcend the spirit of man, that
they can only have God for their author ; " for the former con-
tain the heavenly sanctity of life, the latter the heavenly and
eternal good of man." ' Hereupon still further grounds for the
truth of this religion are derived from its "beginnings, progress,
power, and effects" ("initiis, progressu, vi et effectis"). But
with regard to its " power and effect " the Catechism knows of
nothing el.se to say than this : " first, because it has been
impossible to suppress this religion by any counsel or craft, by
any power or might of men ; then because it put an end to all
the old religions, with the exception of the Jewish, in which it
recognised a character showing that it had proceeded from God,
although it was appointed to flourish only till the advent of
Christ, the Master, so to speak, of a more perfect piety." * All
this applies only to the New Testament. The trustworthiness
of the Old Testament is proved in the briefest way in the last
paragraph : the genuine writings of the New Testament attest
the Old Testament, therefore it is equally trustworthy. In the
whole of this abstract line of statement, there is almost nothing
that has religious worth save the distinguishing between the Old
and New Testaments. Rut even this is cancelled again in the
( end. Evidently Faustus had not the courage openly to reject
\ the Old Testament ; neither had he the capacity to show how
' Old and New Testaments represented different stage.s. On
clo.ser inspection, however, the rational demonstration of the
absolute worth of Holy Scripture is extremely uncertain and
. therefore irrational. It is the first, and therefore it is an
important attempt to establi.sh the authority of Holy Scripture,
without making an appeal to faith : the " service " {Xarpeia) is to

' ' "Nam ilia quidem Cielestem vilre sanctimoniam, h.-cc veio cielesle
honiinia bonuin comprehend imt."

' " Prima quud hssc religio nuUo consilio nee astu, nulla, vi nullaque hoinir
polentia .supprimi poluerit ; deinde quod omnes priscas religlones austulerit, exct
Judaica, (juam ilia pro ejusmodi agnovit quse a dco profecla fiierit, licet ad Chi
toraquara perfections pielatis magtslri ad ventum solummodo vigere debueril. "

THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE.

I4t

CHAP. III.]

'Show itself as "reasonable" (Xoyi *:»)), but unfortunately (iK/y as.
" reasonable." What an undertaking it was for a Church to
jirovide itself with such a Catechism : we must go back to the
limes of Abelard, nay, even, of the Apologists, to find something
i-imilar in Church hi.story ! Only to our age does this wisdom
appear trivial, after its having reproduced itself in manifold forms
in the eighteenth century. It was certainly not trivial at the
beginning of the seventeenth century ; but it was devoid of all
religious spirit, and at bottom not more "logical" than the
Catechisms of those on the other side.-— The two following
chapters (" on the .sufficiency and perspicuity of Holy Scripture,"
pp. 11-17) aretreated according to the same method. Scripture
is sufficient, becau.se the faith which worketh by love is con-
tained in it " as far as is sufficient " (" quantum satis "), To the
question, how far that applies to faith, the reply is given :
" In Scripture the faith is most perfectly taught, that God exists)
and that He recompenses. This, however, and nothing else is the--
faith that is to be directed to God and Christ" Who does not i
recall here the Nominalistic theologians, and those Popes/
(Innocent IV.) who asserted that the Christian only needs to\
have faith in God as the recompenser, while with regard to thel
rest of the doctrines fides implicita is enough! The fides i
implicita is thrown aside — Socinianism has reached its maturity! 1
In what follows the commands regarding love are entirely
co-ordinated with faith ; but then the question is raised, whether >
reason is neces.sary in religion, if the Bible contains everything j.
in perfect form. To this the reply runs ; " Yes, indeed, the use\
of right reason is great in things that pertain to salvation, since \
without it it is impossible either to grasp with certainty the J
authority of Holy Scripture, or to understand those thing that (
are contained in it, or to deduce some things from other things, oiy \
in fine, to recall them that they may be applied. Therefore tuhen {
we say that Scripture is sufficient for salvation, we not merely do-'
not exclude right reason, but we altogether include it." ' In what '•

1 "Immo ycto magnua ii^ciH! ralionis in rebus ad salute m spectantibus usus e^t, cunv
sine ea nee saciamni litterarum auctocEtos certo deprehendi, nee ea, cjuie in illis cnn-
tinentur, inlelligi, nee alia ex aliis cnUigi, nee denique ad usum revoeari possinL
Itaque cum sacras lilltras siigicere ad salttlem dicimm, rectatn ratiintm mm taxtune
non txeladimus, led omnino incltidimus"

142 HISTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. III.

a childlike way clear understanding is here introduced into
( religion ! Certainly it belongs in some way to it, and it means
■an advance in theology that has significance for the world's
history, when there is the desire to throw off all the burdens that
had been heaped up by the old world on the Christian religion,
its niysticisni, its I'latonism, its total-world-knowledge, in order
to justify the religion — as it is to be derived from its classic source
— before the human understanding alone. But a more naive
form of expression cannot be used than that employed in the
Catechism i " We include reason." With what do we include it ?
■what kind of reason is it which must not be excluded ? where
does it come in ? and what scope must be allowed to it ? It is
only since Kant's time that men have begun to answer these
questions. Previous to that time the controversy between the
Socinians and their opponents was a nyktomachy (battle in the
dark). After this the Catechism discards the " traditions," and
at the same time carries on a polemic against the Romish Church.
In the section on the perspicuity of Holy Scripture, there is
importance in the distinction drawn between what is essential
to salvation and what is not. Altogether there appears here the
■advantage of reasonable reflection.'

Section II. (pp. 18-23) treats of the way of salvation. In
spite of his reason man was unable to find out this way of him-
self, because he was mortal (here the element characteristic of
the ancient Church appears in unconcealed form). The
Catechism places the greatest weight upon the fact (compare
the Nominalist doctrine) that Adam was created as a mortal
man, subject to all ills. The image of God consisted simply in
dominion over the lower creatures (the strongest opposition
here to Augustine, Thomas, and Luther, at the .same time a
view which sets aside every religious thought). The Scripture
passages which represent death as having come into the world
through sin were got quit of by a process of exegetical juggling :

' On religion. Holy Scripture, and reflson, see Kock, I.e., pp. 891-413. Because
the Bible and reason (ihe latter as a receptive and critica! oi^an) are represented as
the foundations of the Christian religion , it was a current diclum among the Socinians
that Christianity is supra, not contra ralioneni. The Nominalistic doctrine had
4aught the " contra ralionem."

CIJAP. III.]

THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE.

Rom. V. 12. treats, not of mortality, but of c/ez-Ha/ death. Only
in the second place is attention directed to the Fall: man is
also made liable to death for the reason that Adam transgre.ssed
a manifest commandment of God. "Whence it further came
about that he involved his entire posterity along with himself
in the same sentence of death, there being added, however, in
the case of each adult, his own sin, the gravity of which is then
increased owing to the manifest law of God which men had
transgressed." ^ The exposition is not clear here. To the
question, again, why then man, though he be mortal, could not
himself find out the way of salvation, an answer is given which
betrays at once the Scotistic conception of God i " because both
so great a reward and the sure method of attaining it depended
entirely on Gods judgment and counsel ; but if God Himself
does not reveal them, what man can search out and know with
certainty His counsels and decrees ? " ' This answer has a very
religious ring; but the great moralists left quite out of sight
here the moral law : the way of salvation is simply determitted by
the absolute will of God. But what is the nature of this way ? ^
The Catechism answers quite evangelically with John XVH. 3.
But wherein consists the knowledge of God and Christ ? " By
that knowledge we understand, not some bare knowledge of
God and Christ, consisting only in speculation, but the know-
ledge conjoined with its effect, i.e., with the life conformed to and
agreeing with it " ; * for so it is taught in ist John II., 3 f. Com-
pare with this Luther's exposition of this passage, in order to

■ "Unde porio faclum est, ul universam auam posteritalem secum in eadem morlis
juTa traxerit, accedente tamen cujusvis in adultiuribus prupiio deticto, cujusdeinde vis
per apcrtani dei legem, quam homines iransgiessi fuecant, aucta e.sl."

^ "Quia et tantum premium ec ceria illud consequendi ratio ex solo dei arbitrio ac
con?ilio pependet j dei autem consilia ac decreta ipso non rcvelante qnis hominum
inciagare ac certo potest cognoscere ? "

3 Tlie way of Balvalion has as its goal Ihe vila ^teina ; as man is by nature mortal,
God has led him by the Christian religion into a new mode of being. That would
have been necessary, even if sin had not entered. We have heie a perfect reproduc-
tion of the doctrine of Theodore (of Mopsuestia) of the two Katasta^es ; see Vol. III.,
p. 280 f.

* "Per cognitionera islam non nudam ali^uam ct in sola speculatione consislenlem
dei et Christi notiliam inlelligimus, sed — . nwi sun effectu, h. e. vita illi confotmi ac
! conjunctam."

144 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. III.

feel convinced that Socinianism has nothing in common with
the Reformation. It is Ultra-Catholicism that it here teaches ;
there is nothing whatever said oi faith (of fear, love, and trust) ;
everything applies simply to the knowledge of God and Christ
(notitia del et Christi) and a holy life.

Section III. fpp. 23-45) treats of the knowledge of God as
"the Supreme Lord of all things" ("supremos rerum omnium
dominus"). Here we meet everywhere with Scotistic thoughts.
The idea that God is the absolutely arbitrary One, and that this
attribute is the highest that can be asserted of Him, cannot be
more strictly formulated than in the sentence (p. 23) ; "The
right, and the supreme power, to decree whatsoever He wills, as
concerning all other things, so also concerning us, even in those
matters with which no other power has to do, as, for example,
our thoughts, hidden as these may be in the innermost recesses
of our hearts, to which He can give laws and appoint rewards and
penalties according to His own judgment." ^ How much higher
is Thomas's position with regard to the conception of God !
The thought that God is the Being in whom we may confide
was unknown to the Socinians. On the other hand, the
doctrine of the Unity of God is very distinctly wrought out —
although with TertulHan's (sec the Treatise adv. Prax.), or the
Arian limitation, which is meant to prepare the way for the
Socinian Christology (p. 25): "Nothing renders it impossible
that that one God should share that dominion and power with
others, and has shared it, though Scripture asserts that He
alone has power and dominion."^ The attributes of God are
then dealt with in quite an external way, i.e., apart from any
relation to faith. Here the old Scholastic method has become

I "Jus et pulKilaii sumtna, ul: de ceteris rebus omnibus, its et de nobis quicquid vclil
statuendi, etULm in tig, ad quffi nulla, alia potestas perlingit, ut sunt cogiCaliones noiilne,
quamvis in intimis recessibus cordis abditEc, quibus Ule pro arbitrie leges ponerc el
framia ac panas statuere potest."

> "Nibil pcohibec, quominus ille anus deus imperium potestatemque cum aliis com-
municare possit et communicaveiit, licel Scripturaasseral, eum solum esse qui ait potens
ac dominator." See also p. 32, where it is correctly shown that in Scripture the word
"God" has a double meaning, (1) as principle and Lord of all things, {z) "eum
denotat, qui potestatem aliquam sive Cieleslem iive in terris inter homines summam,
aut qui potentiam virtutemque omni humana majorem ah uno illo dec habet t sic
deitatis unius illius dei aliqua latione particeps est,"

CHAP. III.]

THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE.

145

entirely without substance : God's eternity is His being with-
out beginning or end ; His omnipotence has its limits merely in
contradictions in terms (coiitradictio in adjecto) (p. 26). To
the question, how far the knowledge (notitia) of the divine
attributes is essential to salvation, a number of answers arc
given, all of which are only loosely related to faith. It is a
poor — indeed an objectionable — thesis that is laid down when
it is said (p. 27), that to believe that God is "supremely just"
("summe Justus") is necessary' to salvation, because thereby we
are persuaded that He will hold to His promises, or when (p. 28)
the belief in God's higher wisdom is held necessary "that we
may have no doubt that even our heart, than which nothing is
more difficult to exp\Qre,/rom wkich, inoreoX'er, our obedience is
chiefly estimated, is forthwith and without ceasing scrutinised
and known by Him." ' On the other hand the doctrine of the
Trinity is held as not necessary, but only as "extremely useful"
("vehementer utile") for salvation— a bad concession (p. 30).^
The proof that is brought forward against this doctrine is in the
first place rational proof (essentia = persona), in the second place
scriptural proof. Here the Socinians did excellent work, and
delivered exegesis from the ban of dogma. The arguments,
especially the exegetico-polemical, are for the most part un-
answerable. But on the other hard, the Socinians entered as
little into the fundamental confession which dominates the
utterances of Scripture, as into the religious tendencies which
determined the ecclesiastical doctrine.^ The concluding line of
proof, which aims at showing that the ecclesiastical doctrine of
the Trinity is dangerous, and the Socinian doctrine of God
" very useful for salvation," is not invalid, but very pithless.'' In

1 " Ul nihil dubitenius, cliam cor noslrum, quo ad perscrutandiim nihil esl difficilius,
illi proisus ex. semper peispectiiin atque cognitum esse, e quo etixtn obedienlia nostra
potisaimuiu ^t^limatur."

' See also p. 40 ; "ha^c opinio (ihe doctrin-e of the Trinity) damnare non videtur
eum, cui nulla ecroiis suspicio mola est." Tha.t is also a Catholic thought (not the
maleiiRl heresy, but only the formal, eondemtLs).

sSee Fock II., pp. 454-477, whose criticism, however, of ihc ecclesiastical doctrine
and of Socinian ism were determined by Hegel's philosophy.

^"Ista opinio primum uniu.s del fidem faceie couvellere et la1>eraclave potest . . .
secundo gloriam unius dei, qui tantum patei Chrisii est, obscurat, dum earn ad aliud,
qui paler non est, Iransfert ; tertjo ea qus deo illi ntio el sumnio sunt indigna continet.

146

HISTORV OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IlL

the short chapter immediately following, on "the will of God,"
the placing together of what men knew of the divine will prior
to the law (ante legem) and what they knew through the law
(per legem) is instructive. Prior to the law they already knew
(l) the creation of the world by God, (2) the providence of God
with regard to particular matters (!) (providentia dci dc singulis
rebus), (3) the rewarding of those who seek Him (remuneratio
eorum, qui ipsum qusrunt). " Under this third point there is
included a certain knowledge of those things which are well-
pleasing to God, and by attending to which He is obeyed, while
it is fitting that no one of those things that were known of old
and prior to the law should have been omitted from the law of
Moses " (p. 42 sq.).' Through the law (per legem) they became
acquainted with the decalogue. Thus faith in the providence of
God was included by the Socinians also in Pre-Christian
knowledge.

In Section IV. (pp. 45-144) there follows the knowledge of
the person of Christ. On this much-disputed point the Catechism
goes' most into particulars. What the Nominalists had spoken
of as hypothetical — that God could also have redeemed us by a
man — is regarded, now that the authority of ecclesiastical
tradition has disappeared, as actual. In point of fact Socinianism
has no ground in its own premises for recognising the Godhead
of Christ, and if the gospels are brought in to determine the
alternative, was Christ a God or a man, the answer cannot be
doubtful. But Socinianism did not go on to deal with a deeper
inquiry — namely, whether Christ does not so bring us to God
that it is implied "that God Himself acts," and whether He has

deum soil, ilium unum et altissimum alicujus esse filmm vel spirilumet sic habere
palrem el sui auctorem, etc. . . . denique alienis a religione Christiana magno est
ad earn amplectamkm impedimenlo " (pp. 38 sq.).

' "In hoc vero terlio memhro comptehendiiur cognitio quicdara eorum, qua; deo
grata sunt et quorum observalione ipsi obeditur, quonim olim et ante legem cc^ni-
torum nullum in ipsa l^e Mosis fuisse piKtermissum consenlaneum est." To the
question why it is necessary to know that God created the world the brief and cute
answer is given : (l) "qwd deus velit, ut id ctedamus eaque-res ad summam dei
glotiam pertioeat," (2) "quod nisi certo id nobis persuasum esset, nullam causam
haberemus credendi, talem esse de reljus omnibus dei provide 11 tiam, qualem anie
disimus atque ea ratione animum ad ei obediendum non induceremus." The first is
>1 spoken from the standpoint of iailh.

Stolistic ; ihe second is at all e'

CHAP. III.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. 147

not become that One in whom God has made Himself
apprehensible in human history. Besides, in this section upon
Christ it has not drawn up its positions from the standpoint of
the community redeemed by Christ from death and sin. The
negative criticism is here again almost at every point unanswer-
able, in some places masterly ; the positive assertions as to what
Christ is to His own fall short in respect of substance of the
most attenuated doctrines of the most arid Scholastics : Christ
is a mortal man, who has become immortal, but no ordinary
man ; for from the beginning He wa<, through the miraculous
birth, the only begotten Son of God. was sanctified by the
Father and sent into the world, endowed with divine wisdom
and might, raised again ("thus, as it were, begotten anew,
especially as in this way He issued forth like unto God in His
immortality "),' and finally invested with a power equal to God's.*
Even while dwelling on earth He was "God" (by reason of
the divine might and power the radiance of which appeared in
the mortal) ; but He is God now in a much higherdegree. It is
evident that these declarations, so far as they are a description
of Jesus, coincide pretty much with the biblical testimonies ; but
it is equally manifest that they are entirely worthless, because
they lay down simply the product of exegesis, and are impose!
upon faith as a law. The much shorter and much simpler
testimony of Paul, " No one can call Jesus Lord but by the Holy-
Ghost," is of immeasurably greater value, because it knows only
of a confession of Christ that is divinely wrought, and thereby
assigns to Christology its proper place. Socinianism, however,
proceeds as the old School did. It esitablishes the doctrine of
the person of Christ chiefly from Scripture; for this the old
School used Scripture and tradition, and therein had an
advantage ; for from tradition it obtained guiding lines.
Socinianism merely occupied itself with bringing out the

1 " .Sic denuo veluti Renitus, pr.tsetlim cum hac via immorlalHate deo similis

aDillheyfArchiv, f. Gesch. d. Philos., Vol. VI., p. go) : "TheSocLniaTi Chrisloloey
is eondilioned by the teliuioua horiion of the Humanistic system of culture, according
to which messengers of God of different degrees of dignity are Co be recognised as
witnested to by reports of ancient hisloty."

14* HISTORV OF DOGMA*' [CHAP. HI.

Scripture doctrine exegetically and with avoiding at the same
time too sharp a conflict with reason.

If we take a combined view of the Sociniaii doctrines of the
person and work of Christ, it may be expressed briefly as
follows: By virtue of a free decree God has determined that
mortal men shall be raised to a new condition, foreign to their
natural being ; that is, that they shall be guided to eternal life
(second katastasis). For this, likewise by a free decision, He
has raised up the man Jesus, whom He equipped through the
miraculous birth with divine powers. This man has, as Prophet,
brought the perfect divine legislation, inasmuch as he explained
the decalogue and gave it a deeper meaning ; he further dis-
tinctly announced the promise of eternal life, and, finally, gave
the example of the perfect moral life, which he ratified in his
death. " He transcends the limits of the Old Testament, inas-
much as he reformed the Mosaic law, added to it new mora!
precepts and sacramental appointments, gave a strong impulse
to the observance of these by the promises of eternal life and
the Holy Spirit, and assured men of the general purpose of
God to forgive the sins of those who repent and seek to reform
themselves. It is admitted that no man can perfectly fulfil the
divine law ; and justification, therefore, results not from works,
but from faith. But faith m^ans that trust in the law-giver •
■which includes in itself actual obedience to Him, so far as that is
practicable to men. Now Christ, by his resurrection, by his
having obtained divine power, guarantees to all those who in
faith as thus meant attach themselves to him, in the first in-
stance actual liberation from sin according to the measure in
which they follow the impulse he gives them to newness and
betterness of life, and, further, the attainment of the supernatural
end set before them; and also by the Holy Spirit, which he
bestows, the previous assurance of eternal life, while with the
commencement of this life the forgiveness of sins of the indi-
vidual is complete."'

■RilEchl, I.C., I., p. 315 f. Rilschl very coirecllv goes on lo say: "In ihis »c
have a palpable indication of the praclical antithesis bolween Socinianism and Church
Protestantism. In the latter the forgiveness of sin is regarded as the primary
principle, in the former as the mote remote tesiilt of the Cliiistian life. The

CHAi>. III.] THE -SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. 149

The following particulars are worthy of note: (l) In the
doctrine of the person of Christ the divinity of jesus is asserted,
His divine nature rejected (p. 4S : "if we understand by the
terms divine nature or substance the divine essence itself, we
do not in this sense recognise ihe divine nature in Christ " ^J
and the ecclesiastical view is argued against on the ground of
reason and Scripture. The Socinians found special difficulties
here in the passages of Scripture which assert pre-existence of
Christ They sought to show that many passages when looked
at closely do not contain pre-existence, and that others can be
explained by assuming that Christ (like Paul) was caught up
during his earthly life into heaven, and there beheld the eternal
life and heard the perfect commands, so that John could say of
Him that he came from heaven ; finally, it is to be observed
that much is said in Scripture " figuratively " ("figurate") (see
pp. 48-144, in particular p. 146 sq.).^

2. The doctrine of the three offices lies at the basis of the
Socinian account of the work of Christ. The prophetic office,
however, is dealt with most fully (Section V. and VI,, pp, 144-
316). In fact, the whole work of Christ, .so far as it was clear
to the Socinians, was placed under this heading, and we can
easily see that it was an accommodation to the old doctrine
when they added the kingly and high -priestly offices. Socinian-
ism can really gather up everything in the proposition, that
Christ has perfectly revealed to us the divine will. The scheme

Ihe doctrine of Christ's satisfaction, which lies at the
;w, thus admits of explaimtion from this point ; but this
lie at the forgiveness of sins ss an accident of the Christian lite is at
the staae time an indication that in Christ lb« founder merely of an ethical school is
(liscemed, and not the founder of a religious fellowship. And if this conttaiiety does
not alwa)^ show itself with clearness, if rather it must be allowed that Sodnianisni
nevertheless establishes peculiar leligious aims, legulative principles, and condition.';,
the circumstance is to be accounted for from the fact that Socinianism, as being the
first attempt at the exhibition of Christianity as an ethical school, was still exposed to
theinBuencesof a viewofChrislianity, which upto that time hadeitclusively prerailed,
and from which it hod in pi iociple withdrawm itself.''

' " Si natura; seu substanti,i: divine nomine ipsam dei easentiam inlelligimus, non
agnoscimus hoc sensu divinam in Christo naiuram."

' It should always tie remembered that the Socinians were the first to liberate Ihem-
selies in dealing with the Christo' t^ical passages of the New Testament from the
ban of the Platonisiiig dermatic.

150 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. III.

of the high-priestly office is mainly made use of for controvert-
ing the Church doctrine.

3. For the prophetic office of Christ the following scheme is
obtained (p. 148) : " it comprehends, first, the precepts, then the
perfect promises of God, then, finally, the way and jnanner in
which ive ought to conform ourselves both to the precepts and
promises of God." ^ This is at the same time regarded as the
content of the New Covenant, so that faith is not even
mentioned. The first chapter now treats of the commands
which Christ has added to the law (pp. 149-209) ; for the divine
commands consi.st of the decalogue and the commands which
Christ and the apostles added to it after discarding the cere-
monial law. This discarding is looked upon as the trans-
formation of the severity and rigour of the law (severitas et
rigor legis) into grace and mercy (gratia et misericordia). Yet
the commands that relate to the rightfulness of civil govern-
ment are .still kept in force; "nay, even the Church of Christ
implies the State, since it is nowhere congregated save in the
State." ^ But it is quite certain that Socinianism did not yet
rise above the medi.'Eval suspicion of the State and its legal
ordinances, as can be seen especially from p. 194 sq. After this
the decalogue is now expounded (p. 154 sq.), into which (under
the first commandment) an exposition of the Lord's prayer is
introduced. Christ added the Lord's Prayer to the first
precept ; and he still further added to this precept the injunction
that he should himself receive divine worship. The worship of
Christ as divine is vindicated at length (pp. 164-176) in opposi-
tion to Nonadorantism.^ In the second chapter (pp. 209-221)

1 " Comprehend it tuni prsccepla, lum promitaa (id perfecta, turn denique madam
ac ratianem, qui ma tl pmceflis el fromissionibus dei coaformare de&eamiii."

^ " Quin et ipsa. Chriati ecclena. rempubHcan supponit, cum non alibi quam in
tepublicacongrtgclur'Mp- 153)-

3 " Ipsum etiam dominum Jesum pro eo, qui in nos potestatem habeat divinam,
iatnqlie senau pre dm agHosctre ac poira ei conEdere ac divinum honotem exfiibeie
ten>;mur." The honour thit is to be given tu Christ conslsla (p. 165) bnth in adnrstin
and invocHtiii. This is eslahlisheil from Holy Scripture, and from the conviction of
(ailti that he is our Lord, who can and will help us. The section relating to this is
ung the best the Catechism contains. Of iho&
1 invoke Christ it is said on p. 171 s(]. : "eo<
:tenus non es.se. qlianivis alioqut Chrisli nomei

e who aie no

Willi

g to worship

, qui id facer

nolu

t. Christiaros

n profileantur

et do

trinar illius se

CHAP. HI.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. 151

there follows the statement of the special commands of Christ,
so far as these have a moral character. The Catechism dis-
tinguishes here three commands : (i) trustful and constant joy
in God, unceasing prayer in the name of Christ with the sure
belief in the divine help, and hearty thanksgiving, (2) abstaining
from love of the world, i.e., from the lust of the eye, the lust of
the flesh, and the pride of life, (3) self-denial and courageous
patience. Especially regarding the commands of the first class
the Catechism understood how to say beautiful things ; but
what it sets forth here was placed in no definite connection with
Christ and with faith. In the third and fourth chapters (pp.
221-228; 228-243) there follows the statement of the special
commands of Christ so far as these have a ceremonial character,
that is, of the commands connected with Baptism and the
Lord's Supper. This mode of view decides at once as to the
meaning Socinianism attributes to these observances. Baptism
is defined (p. 221) as " the rite of initiation by which men, after
obtaining knowledge of the doctrine of Christ and acquiring
faith in him, become bound to Christ and his disciples or are
enrolled in the Church, renouncing the world . . . professing^
besides, that they will regard the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit
as the only guide and master in religion, and in the whole of
their life and conversation, and by their ablution and immersion
and emersion, declaring, and as it were exhibiting, that they lay
aside the defilement of sin, that they are buried with Christ,
that they desire henceforth to die with Him and to rise to new-
ness of life, and pledging themselves that they will really carry
this out, receiving also at the same time at which this profession
is made and this pledge taken the symbol and sign of the
remission of sins, and even the remission itself."'^ The words

adhzerere dicant." There then follows a repudialion of the Catholic Maiy and saint
wuiship.

1 " Riiua initiationis, quo homines, agnila Christi doctrina et suscepta in eum fide,
Christo Ructorantui ec discipulia ejus sen ecclesi:e inscribuntur, renunciantes mundo
, . . pnfiUittis vcro se patrero el lilium ct spiritum sanctum pro unico duce et
magistio leligionis totiusque vilLie et conversationis sue habitnros esse ipsaque sui
ablutione et immersione ac cemersione dtdaraiilis ac veluli refmistnlantet, se pecca-
lorum sordes deponere, Christn consepeliri, proinde commoii et ad vilie novitaleni
resurgere veUe, ut<^ue id re ipiia prxslenl sese olistringenles, siniul etinm hac pro-

152

HISTOIiY OF I'OUMA.

[ciIAf. in.

that are added quite at the end — entirely unexpectedly and
with nothing to introduce them — indicate an accommodation.'
Baptism is in reality a confes.sion, an undertaking of obligation,
and a symbol. Infant baptism is rejected, but tolerated.^ Its
toleration was due to the fact that little importance generally
was attached to all that was ceremonial. It is a serious error
to associate regeneration with baptism. Socinianism therefore
resolved to have nothing to do with the Sacrament as Sacra-
ment As in baptism immersion was accentuated, so the
greatest stress was laid in the Eucharist on the breaking of
bread, and it cannot be denied that Socinianism made a praise-
worthy attempt to restore to this sacred observance its original
meaning. But here also it avoided in a latitudinarian way
uttering the last word ; or, it avoided a complete separation
between the ceremony and the forgiveness of sins, which are
united in the words of institution.^ Of the imrd in the
Sacrament it took no account ; here also, under the influence of
its Biblicism and its obedience to the arbitrary commands of
God and Christ, it was ready to believe and do what was
prescribed. Thus the Socinians appear here also as medijeval
Christians, although they have struck out the Sacraments.
The definition of the " breaking of bread " is as follows (p. 22^) :

I stgnin.

peccalorum ipsamque

'The suspicion can scarcely at all be siippiessed th^t many Socinians expressed
themaelves more positively than they had a right to do. Did they really estimate the
forcaal authority of Holy Scripture so highly that they held everything as true ihat
was contained in Scripture, even when it threw ridicule on theii exegetical skill? I
cannot persuade myself that this assunipLion istiue, and believe that the "illuminisl"
element was more strongly developed among them than their writings woold lead us
to suppose. Thi; philolc^st, Justus Lipslus, a man o\ no characlei but of keen
insight, has it his famous characterisation of the Christian Confessions of his day
described the Socinians as "hypocrilit; docti." Fauslus at all events u'as an

1 See p. 322 : it is not according to the mind of the Apostles ; but it is also no true
baptism, for the form is not immersion ; "queni tamen errorem adeo inveteratuni et
prsesertim citca rem ritualem, Christiana carilas tolcrare suadet in iis,
qui certeroquin pie vivanl et alios, qui haic errori renunliaruni, nan insectentur, donee
Veritas magis magisque patescat."

On the words " for the foi^iveness of sins " the Catechism is simply silent. In
the case of baptism they are at least referred to.

ClIAl'. III.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTKIKK. 153

■' It has been appointed by Christ the Lord that those believinji
in Him shall together break and eat bread and drink of the cup,
with the view of rem em lae ring Hinn or of proclaiming His death :
and this must continue until He returns." ' Christ instituted
this rite, because the remembrance of His death is the remem-
brance of the must arduous part of His saving work. The
Catholic, Lutheran, and Calvinistic doctrines of the Supi^er arc
expressly characterised as erroneous (p. 231), are controverted
at length, and in opposition to them the symbolic doctrine is
shown to be the correct one {p. 238 {.). Nowhere is any pro-
minence given to a religious element ; the ceremony of breaking
of bread is the confession of Christ and the remembrance of
Him. There now follow — still under the head of the prophetic
office — ^the two chapters on the promise of eternal life (pp. 243-
248) and the Holy Spirit (pp. 248-359). The forgivene.s.? of sins
here occupies only a subordinate place ; for it is simply a resu/t
of the Christian life. The proposition ; " in eternal life there is
included at the same time forgiveness of .sins " * (p. z-43) corre-
sponds with ancient Christianity as it developed itself from the
days of the Apologists, but it is opposed to the Pauline-
Lutheran thought : " Where forgiveness of sins is, there is life
and peace," On the other hand, it is a pritnilive Christian
thought, for the assertion of which great credit is due to
Socinianism, that the obtaining of the Holy Spirit (consecutio
spiritJJS s.) precedes eternal life (vita aeterna) and produces it.
Faustus re-discovered this thought as a biblical theologian, and
gave an excellent formal unfolding of it. But how can the
meaning of this "obtaining of the Holy Spirit" be correctly
and impressivelj' stated, if forgiveness of sins is still left entirely
out of view, or is taken account of only as a factor in eternal
life?^ This life itself is described (p. 245) in the most super-

1 " Est Chhsti domini institutum, ut fidf les ipsius panem simul frangant el comEdant
ct ex calice bjbant, ipaius commeinorandi seu morlem ejus annunciandi causa ; quod
(lermanere in adrentum ipsius oputtet."
- " In vita aetfirna simul comprehensa est [leccatorum remissio."
' Certainly at p. 244, and previous to the deseriptinn of eternal life, a deHnilion ni
fotgiveneSB of sins is givi:n, which seems lo embract: very much. Bui, first, it quite
hangs in the air (it is given wilhoul any indication of the connection with what
precedes or whal follows) ; and, secondly, it entirely omits any reference to Christ

«S4

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[chap. III.

ficial way— it appears as the dregs of the old ecclesiastical
dogmatic : "a life tliat is at tio time to come to an end, that is
to be spent evermore in delight and divine happiness in heaven
itself with God and Christ and the ble.'ised angels."^ Eternal
life cannot be described otherwise, if it is not estimated by the
dread and unrest of the .soul which, without Christ, finds in the
thought of God only death. Instead of entering into the
religious meaning of eternal life, the Catechism occupies itself
with the juvenile Scholastic questions, whether eternal life was
already promised in the Old Testament, whether even the men
living before Christ could attain to blessedness, etc. On the
■other hand, in the section on the gift of the Holy Ghost, there
is pointed out by Faustus in the New Testament much more
than he was himself in a position to understand. There is an
infringement of his scheme^" the outer word of Scripture and
reason" — when it is said fp. 251) that even the former can
indeed give rise to a certain confidence in God, " nevertheless for
implanting in our souls a firmer and more certain hope, in the
power of which we shall be able to continue unsubdued amidst
all temptations, it seems required that the promise set before us
from without by the Gospel shall be sealed within by God
through the Holy Spirit."^ But how disillusioned we are by
what immediately follows, which shows that the Holy Spirit is
only given to him who already believes the Gospel (p. 252).
Faith therefore is man's own peculiar work, and is always some-
thing preliminary : for faith the Holy Spirit is not necessary.
Here again we have the clearest evidence that the fundamental
spirit of the Socinians is Catholic, and this impression is not
■weakened when immediately afterwards a keen polemic is

and to faith. We can only conclude from ihis ihat the "gratuita a rcalu ac pranis
peccaiorum liberatio " has nothing to do with ihe laori of Christ, but is an iinmotived
decision of God, of which Christ, among others, has imparted knowledge. That this
19 Teally so, see below.

J "Vila nuUo tempore finienda, gaudio ac voluptate prorsus divina in ipsia coelis
cum deo et Chrislo beatisque angelis agenda."

' "Verumlamen ad ins-reiidam animis nostris firmioiem et ceitiorem spem, ciijus
virlnte in omnibus tentalionibus invicti subsistamus, videtur requiri, Ht ea promissio
exterius per evangelium pioposiln, interius a deo in cotdibgs nostris per spiritum
sanctam ohsignetur."

CHAP. III.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. 155

carried on against Catholicism on the ground of its regarding
the Holy Spirit as a person (p. 253 sq.).

Very loosely attached to these discussions of the commands
and promises of Christ, as forming the content of His prophetic
office, are five excursus, "on the confirmation of the divine will"
(pp. 259-261), "on the death of Christ" (pp. 261-2S8), "on
faith" (pp. 2S8-293), "on free will" (pp. 293-316), and "on
justification " (pp. 316-319).' We see here distinctly the effort
to bring the whole material under the head of Christ's office as
Teacher. The corroboration of the revelation of the divine will
is to be sought for(i) in the siiilessness of Jesus, (2) in His
miracles, (3) in His death. The necessity for His death is
proved (p. 261 f.) on various grounds, from which — Scripture
being followed — there are not absent His " having died for our
sins " (" mortuum esse pro peccatis riostris "), the establishment
of faith in the forgiveness of sins, and the preservation of men
from the heaviest penalties. But the chief thing is, that Christ
had to demonstrate His doctrine under the most difficult cir-
cumstances, and on that account sealed it by the most igno-
minious death. But from this point the line of argument passes
at once to the resurrection ; the death of Christ yields "confir-
mation of the divine will" ("confirmatio divinaj voluntatis "),
only because the death was followed by the resurrection. To
the objection, " I perceive that in the work of our salvation
more depends on the resurrection than on the death of Christ,"^
the reply is given (not without ground in Scripture), " to this
extent, certainly, that the death of Christ would have been
useless and ineffectual, unless it had been followed by Christ's
resurrection."' But why, then, does Scripture frequently derive
everything from the death ? " Because even the death of
Christ, the Son of God, in itself, when the re-awakening by
resurrection takes place, has henceforth a pre-eminent and
unique power in procuring for us salvation, as we have shown

1 " De confirmalione divinie voliintalis," *'de morte Christi," "de fide," "de
liberoarlMUio," "de juslificalione."

3 " Plu<; in resurrections quam in Christi morte Eitum esse in nostrx salutis negotio,
perspicio. "

> " Hactenui sane, qnatenus mors Christi inulilis et inefTicax rmiira fuisae!, nisi earn
a fuisset Christi resurreciio " (p. 267).

IIISTOKV 0>" DOGMA.

[CI

(but that has been sliown only very vaguely). Then, because it
was the way to the resurrection and exaltation of Christ ; for
the former could not be attained by Him without death, owin^
to the nature of the case, nor could the latter, owing to the
counsel and arrangement of God. And, lastly, because among
ail the things which God and Christ did for the sake of our
salvation, Christ's death was by far the most arduous work, and
the most evident token of the love of God and of Christ for
us."' This solution is by no means obvious ; why is death a.
proof of love? The Catechism does not enter more minutely
into this, but now directs itself against the doctrine of penal
satisfaction (p. 268 sq,). It is well known that this point was
brought out in the keenest light by the Socinians.^

In his " Prailectiones theologies," Faustus has contested in
an exhaustive way the necessity and possibility of satisfaction,.
i.e., he has controverted the thought in the same way in which
it had been formerly framed. Just here, however, he only re-
quired to continue the work of the later Scholasticism, to which
nothing had become more uncertain than the rational interpre-
tation of the value of Christ's death by the thought of a strictly
necessary equivalent. Faustus contested the necessity of
satisfaction from the basis of his Scotistic conception of God :
God is by no means required by His nature to punish sin, and
on that account to impose a penalty in all cases, even though it
be on the innocent ; He stands, rather, above all compulsion,
and in virtue of His absoluteness can act as He will. Even
Scripture says that He is sometimes wrathful, sometimes pitiful,,
but in the New Testament His unfathomable mercy is pro-
claimed. Least of all can we deduce satisfaction from His

" Propteiea quod et ipsa per se Chrisd
:t singtilarem vim habeat in cc
DeindE quod via fueriC ad resunectionEiii et
per Tci naturam, ad hanc per dei consilium e
non poluit. Denique quod ex omnihus, quie
~" ' ;i opus fuerit maxime arduii:

■videntis

npatanda nobis salute, ut ostendimus.
(nllationemChristL. Adillumenim
e morte perveniie
Christus nostriE salutis causa
ititalis erga nos dei et Chri^lt

arpimi

aSee Fock, I.e., p. 615 tf. EiLschI, I.e., p. 316 ff. In his system of Chris

doctrine, Strauss adopted almost all the arguments of the Socinians. In more te

s Philippi especially has tried to controvert in detail the Socinian theses.

CHAP. III.]

THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE.

15?

righteousness ; for to punish the innocent for the guilty is un-
righteous. Neither can a necessity for penalty be derived from
the nature of sin ; for in relation to God sin is an injury done to
His honour ; but such injury can be unconditionally overlooked.
But the idea of satisfaction is, further, an impos.sible one. as it
leads to pure contradictions ; for (1.) remission and satisfaction
are mutually exclusive ; if God has remitted sin, He requires no
.satisfaction ; if He accepts satisfaction, there is no need of re-
mission, since, in this case, the debtor is only under an illusion ;
(H.) but even assuming that rennissioii and satisfaction could
exist together, yet in this case satisfaction in the sense of
substitution is excluded ; for (i) one can take over fines imposed
on another, but not penalties that are personal, and that culmi-
nate in the penalty of death; in this case transference is un-
righteousness. No doubt innocent persons frequently suffer
with the guilty ; yet if that has not been brought about through
being involved in the sin of the guilty, such suffering is not
penal suffering. But neither can it be asserted that Christ
suffered as the representative and head of humanity ; for He
did not as yet bear that character during the period of His
earthly life, nor has His suffering death exempted anyone from
death ; (2) Christ's positive fulfilment of the law can have no
substitutionary worth, for to this Christ was morally bound, and
His fulfilment of the law secures exemption for no one ; (3) the
supposition that Christ both suffered substitutionally, and ful-
filled the law substitutionally, contains contradictory elements,
for if the one thing took place, there was no further need of
the other taking place ; (HI-) bu.t even if the vicarious penal
sufi"ering were possible, it would not attain its end, i.e., it would
not provide an actual equivalent ; for (i) an individual equivalent
can always have validity only for an individual case, not for the
guilt of all men ; a single death is a substitute only for one
death ; (2) it was neces.'^ary that the representative should
really die the eternal death, but Christ was raised up ; (3) if it
is urged against this that Christ was God, and therefore His
suffering has an infinite worth for God, it must be said that on
that assumption there was no need that God should subject
Him to so much distress, because even the smallest suffering of

IS8 HISTORV, OF DOGMA. [CHAP. HI.

the God-man would in that case have been enough ; but the
appeal to the Godhead of Christ is lacking in force, because the
Godhead is not capable of suffering. If the Godhead of Christ
is nevertheless taken into the calculation, yet we may not on
that account deify also the suffering itself, which was displayed
in temporary and finite acts. This suffering must be estimated
as finite, and hence it would have been necessary that the God-
man should take upon Him an infinite number of satisfactions ;
(IV.) the notions of vicarious satisfaction and of imputation are
mutually exclusive ; that is to say, where the former has been
rendered, everything further is excluded, the acceptance (accep-
tatio) is itself implied in the satisfaction; if the orthodox
doctrine asserts in reply to this, that God accepts the work of
Christ on our behalf by an act of grace (acceptilalio), then His
work is no satisfaction ; for there is " acceptilatio " only where
no equivalent work is offered. Therefore the doctrine that God
reckons the satisfaction of Christ only to faith destroys the
whole scheme of vicarious penal suffering ; for Christ by no
means wrought a perfect satisfaction, if it has only conditional
validity ; (V.) the doctrine of vicarious penal suffering blunts
the conscience, leads easily to mora! laxity, and checks the
efforts of the will to fulfil the divine law ; (V!.) this doctrine is
not contained in Scripture, and is in antagonism to clear pas-
sages of Scripture (Cat. p. 270 : '■ The Scriptures testify every-
where, but especially in the New Testament, that God gratui-
tously remits to men their sins ; but nothing is more opposed
to gratuitous remission than a satisfaction of such a kind as
they wish "'). On the other hand, Faustus, like Duns and the
Nominalists, will not exclude the thought of the merit of Christ
as bearing upon our guilt. This merit, however, does not come
within the system of duty and action which is imposed upon
us.* Faustus was not confuted by the orthodox, in so far as

1" Scripture passim devim peccata. hoininibus gratuko remittere lestantur,
polissimum vero sub novo fcedcrc : at remissioni grauiitx nil advecsatur magis, quam
ejusmodi qualem volunc satisfactio."

' See RitschI, I.e., p. 319, whom I have followed also in repioducing the ciilicism
of the balisfaction doctrine by FausLus ; " If the strict sense of the conception of duty
is to have its validity maintained, then — for Faiislus — all merit of Chrii-t for Himself
and for us is excluded. ' Nihil fecit, quod ipsi a deo injunclum non fuisset. Ubi

CHAP. III.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. IJg.

he demonstrated the worthlessness of the juristic thought-
material with which they worked. But even in other respects.
his contemporaries were unable to controvert him, because they
themselves did not clearly discern the tendencies of the form of
doctrine that had come to them traditionally, and hence were
as little able to correct the mistakes in their mode of building
up doctrine as to bring its excellences successfully to view. In
failing back upon the position that the qualities of righteousness,
and mercy exist in God with equal claims, they guarded, in-
deed, the holiness of the law of the good, but did not find escape
from contradictions.

The appended section on faith is introduced with the idea,,
that, now that the commands and promises have become known,
a statement must follow on the way in which one has to
"adjust" himself to them. This way, it is said (p. 288), h/ati/t,
" by which we both embrace with our soul the promises of Christ,
and henceforth seek, to the best of our ability, to keep His.
precepts." ' Yet the Catholic notion of faith forthwith appears,
in what is added : "which faith both makes our obedience more
acceptable and veil-pleasing to God, and supplies the defects of our
obedience, provided it is sincere and earnest, and brings it about
that we are justified by God" ^ Thus it is the actual obedience
debitum, ibi nullum venim el ptoprium metilum.' Thus it ia only in a sense different
from the pruper one that the conception can be applied, what is presupposed being a.
particular divine decree a.nd divir.e promise. Now as the latter adds nothing to
what is understood as dutifulness of action, it can only give rise to the conception of
merit when in estimating action, not the diitifijiness, but — by way of exception — the-
voluntniiness is taken into account. This thought comes Eo coincide substantially
with the definition of the conception given by Duns and by Calvin. And although
Faustus opposes the latter, in so far as he relates — as Thomas did— the proper
conception of merit to the legal estimalion of an action, yet he was at one with
Calvin in aclually admitting the merit of Christ. This is a new proof that the
conceptions of the merit and of the satisfaction of Christ are derived from quite
different modes of view. batiafaction is derived from the presupposition of a
reciprocal relationship that rests upon a puiely legal order ; merit from a. leciprocaJ
relationship which ia moral, but is not conceived of from the highest point of view of
law and duly."

1 " Per quam et promissa Christ! animo complectimuc et porro przcepta ejus pro.
virili exsequimur."

' " Qu£ fides et obedientiam nostram deo commend atlorem gratioremque facit cC
obedientix defectus, modo ea sit vera ac seria, supplet, ulque a deo justiGcemur

ISTOkV OF nOHMA. [CHAP. IIT.

that i.s the matter that mainly decides. This view is carried out
in the strictest possible way. No trace is to be found of the
evangelical attitude ; for the appended remark, that God over-
looks the deficiency of obedience for the sake of faith, also
contains a good Catholic thought. Catholicism puts in placu
of this, submission to the Church, the fides impHcita. This was
discarded by Socinianism; but it, too, substitutes for it a
performance — the performance, namely, of faith. Thus it does
not pass beyond the Catholic system of things. This system it
endorses even in the details of its doctrinal deductions ; e.^.
(p. 288) ; ■' faith in Christ is taken in a two-fold sense ; for
sometimes it denotes that faith on which alone, unless something
still furtlter is added, salvation does not follow ; sometimes that
faith on which alone salvation follows."' In the first case there
is meant faith without obedience, in the second case faith and
the works of love. The section on free will is here inserted, in
order to place over against the God of absolutism man with his
empty freedom, and in order to abolish the Augustinian-
Thomistic doctrines of predestination and original sin. ^ In

1 '* Fides in Christum duplici ratione Rumitiir ; internum enim notat earn fidem,
quam solam, nisi adhuc aliquid nliud accedal, salus nan consequitui ; inlerdum earn
quam solam salus conscquitur."

= See p. 294: "Lapsus Adit, cum unus actus fueril, vim earn, qucq depravare ipsani
naturam Adami, mullo minus veto posterorum Ipsius posset, habere non potuil , , ,
non negainus Camen assiduilatc pcccan-di naluram hominnm labe quadam ec ad
peccandum nimia proclivilate infectam esse, sed earn pcccatum per se esse negamus."
As in Ihe case of ihc Nominalbts, the divine factor is only ndmilted as divinum
auxilium, as extetius (Holy Scriplure), moreover, and inlerius. The way in which
the doctrine of the ordo salutis is wrought out quite resembles Ihe way strenuously
maintained at Ihat lime by the Jesuits in opposition to Thomism. Of tbe doctrine
of predestination it is afhrmed (p. 300] : " totam reiigionem corruere facit et deo
mulla inconvenienlia attribuit." The chief passages usually appealed to in support
of predestination are minutely treated in the Catechism, and got rid of in tbe desired
way by exegetical art- The criticism of the Calvinislic doctrine of predestination
became everywhere the starting-point during the last third of the sixteenth century,
when what was contemplated was to weaken the confessional system of doctrine and
lo make the demand for a real toleration arising from ihe nature of the subject itself.
See Coomherfs criticism as quoted by Dilthey (Aichiv. f. Geacb. d. Philos., Vol. 5.
p. 491 ET. ), Arminius and his disciples, etc. Yet it must not be forgotten that even
Ihe consciousness of election itself gave rise, in one branch of the believers in it, to
the idea of toleration, or of the rights of the individual. Only the former, however,
saw it to be demanded that religious peace should be established "through setting
iversal principles of right and providing a simpliHed, general church theology."

THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE.

161

CHAP. III.]

the section on justification it is not the Catholic conception that
makes its appearance, though that was necessarily to be ex-
pected after the explanation given of faith, but — strikingly
enough — an evangelical view, deteriorated in the direction of
laxity, and sadly perverted (p. 316): "there is justification
when God regards us as righteous, or deals with us as if we had
been quite righteous and innocent (!). But His way of doing
this under the new covenant is by remitting our sins, and giving
us eternal life."' This definition .seems to fall entirely out of the
lines of the fundamental Socinian view. Yet we must remember
here, that even Pelagius paid reverence to the special char-
acter of the Christian religion. The Socinian proposition can
only be understood when we (i^ consider that the Socinians
could not entirely break with Paulinism, and (2) take into
account that justification meant very little for them. The chief
thing is the obedience which gives proof of itself in fulfilment of
the law. Side by side with this stands — as a special feature of
the Christian religion — the promise of God to overlook certain
defects in that obedience on the part of Christians. At this
point the contact with Paulinism is sought for, and the ierm
justification, as denoting forgiveness of sins, is introduced.
More than this, however, is not done by the Catechism. It is
satisfied when in three lines it has in a way included justifica-
tion in its inventory. To say anything more regarding it is
deemed unnecessary ; for the two pages which are elsewhere
devoted to justification, deal with the unimportant question as
to whether even the Pre-Christian fathers were justified.

4. The brevity of the chapters that still follow (" on the
priestly office of Christ," pp. 330-331, "on the kingly office of
Christ," pp. 331-339, " on the Church," pp. 340-355),^ is in itself
a proof that the religious doctrine has been virtually conciuded
when there has been explained the prophetic office of Christ
(" praecepta et promissa dei "). But as these headings had to
be taken up (according to holy Scripture), much is set forth

' " Justificalio est, cum nos deus pro justis habel seu ita nobis cum agit, ac si jusli
et innocentes plane fuissemus. Id vera ea ralione sub novo fadere facit, ut nobis et
peccata remittal: el nos vita aetema donel. "

'"'Demunere Christ! sacerdotali," "de muneie Christi regio," " de ecclesia."

l62 HISTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. III.

which does not fit into the doctrine, but as Biblical material
traverses it. This is especially apparent in the section on the
high-priestly office. Here the Catechism has not only em-
phasised the perpetual priesthood of Christ on the ground of.
the Epistle to the Hebrews (p. 320 f.), but has also adopted the
thought of the perpetual "expiation of sins by Christ in
Heaven"' (p. 321 sq.) : "Jesus carries on in Heaven the ex-
piation of our sins, inasmuch as He liberates us from the
penalties of sins by the virtue of His death, which he endured
for our sins according to the will of God. For a victim so pre-
cious, and an obedience so great as that of Christ, have the
perpetual power before God of defending from the penalties of
sins (as in Catholicism, the penalty, not the guilt, is the heaviest
burden) us who believe in Christ and who have died with Christ
that we may not live unto sin ; further, inasmuch as He per-
petually guards us by His power, which He obtained in its ful-
ness and absoluteness from the Father, and by His intercession
wards off from us the wrath of God, which was wont to be
poured out upon the wicked, this being what Scripture designates
His appearing for us; then He frees us from the slavery of sin
itself, inasmuch as He binds us over to Himself, partly by that
same death which He suffered for us, partly by showing us in
His own person what is obtained by hina who has avoided sin."^
It is expressly emphasised that only through His rising agdin
has Christ become the heavenly Priest in the full sense. In the
section on the kinglj' office it is first shown that Christ did not
raise Himself (p. 333 sq.). This proof claims — very suggestively
— the largest space ; it is followed only by unimportant explana-
tions as to the nature of the resurrection body of Christ, the

' " Expiatio peccalorum per Clmstum in cfelis."

' "Jesus in cfelis expiationem peccalorum nostrorum peragil, dum a peccatorum
pcenis nos liberal virlute moirtis sax, quam pro peccatis nosCris ex dei volunlate
subiil. Victima enim tarn preciosa lanlaque Chrisli obedieotia perpetuam coram deo
%im habet, nos qni in Christum cretlimus et Christo commoitui sumus, ne peccatis
vivaraus, a peccatorum pumis defcudendi ; porro cium poteslale sua, quam a palre
plenaiD et absolutam conseculus est, perpeluo nos tucCui et Iram dei, quam in impicis
effundi consuevit, intercessione sua a nobis arcel, quod scriptuia inletpellationem pro
nobis appellat; deinde ab ipsotum pcccaluinm semtute nos liberat, dum nos sibi
mancipat, paitim moite itidem ilia sua quan:i pro nobis perpessus esl, paitim in sua
ipsius persona Tiobis oslendcDdo, quid consequatur is qni a peccando desticit."

. CHAP, in.] THE SOCINIAN I'OCTRINE. 163

ascension, and the sitting at the right hand of God. In a few
words the dominion of Christ over all beings and thinga is then
described. Finally, the last section — on the Church^falls into
four short chapters. In the first, the visible Church is defined
(p. 340) as " the community of those men who hold and profess
the saving doctrine" i.e., as a School.' Every other mark is
expressly set aside; "there is no reason why thou shouldst
inquire into the marks of the Church " (with the exception of
the saving doctrine.) - The question as to what the true doctrine
is, is answered by pointing to this Catechism with all that it
contains.^ In the second chapter the government of the Church
is dealt with (p. 342), "that order rests on the offices of persons
to whom the Church of Christ is committed, and on carefully
seeing and observing that individual persons fulfil their offices."*
There are now distinguished, in accordance with Scripture,
Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Teachers, Pa.stors (Bishops),
Presbyters and Deacons. In the course of exposition the
offices of Teachers, Bishops and Presbyters are dealt with as
one, and it is .said of the Apostles, Evangelists, and Prophets,
that with its cause their e.\istence has ceased. Hence only
Pastors and Deacons remain. The doctrine of Episcopal succes-
sion is combated (p. 346) ; nothing is said of Ordination, In the
third chapter (" de disciplina ecclesiae Christi ") follows a state-
ment of the main principles of ecclesia.stical discipline, well
established from the Bible, which ends by showing that the
power to bind and loose is to be regarded as the "right of de-
claring and announcing according to the Word of God, who are,
and who are not worthy to be in the Church, or to be members
of it" (p. 351).' The Catechism closes with the chapter

1 " The Italians have a liking for free unions and academies of a sodo-scienlific
chataclet." During Ihe whole time of its existence Sodnianisoi had maintj the form
of a theological academy.

' " Nihil est, cur de notis ecclesix quadras " (excepts salutari doctrina).

'The current orthodox idea of the Church in Protestantism, and Ihe Socinian, are
therefore identical,

* " Ordo is situs est iu officiis personaruin, cjuibus ecclesia Christi constat, el in
accuiata animadversione eC ohservatione, ut eingulce persouEt officiis suis fungantur."

' "Jus declarandi et denundandi secundum dei verbum, qui ait dignns, qui non,
ut sit in ecclesia seu membrum ecclesix."

l64

HISTORV OF DOUMA.

[CHAP. III.

" on the invisible Church " (p. 352 sq.). Here again the Catholic
mode of view is very striking. The exposition begins by saying,
that Holy Scripture " scarcely anywhere " distinguishes a com-
pany of truly pious men {" coetus vere piorum hominum ") from
the visible Church, since all truly pious men also belong to the
visible Church ; yet it is to be admitted that the latter is often
spoken of as being everything it ought to be, while really it is
not. Therefore we can frame the conception of a Church
as denoting "a certain multitude of truly pious men, together
with the union that is among them, which, in a certain figurative
and metaphorical sense may be legitimately called a Church, for
truly pious men, scattered here and there or even remaining hid,
if indeed true piety allo2us t/tem to be hid (!),' can only in an
improper sense be called a Church."^ Taken in this guarded
way, the conception of the invisible Church is accepted. With
regard to it the assertion is made, that by it, that is by all who
truly believe in Christ and obey Him, is represented in the most
perfect way the body of Christ. This Church, however, is
, invisible, because faith and true piety cannot be seen with the
bodily eye ; but even from " outward actions " (" factis exterior-
Ibus ") it can only be established that one is not a member of
Christ, but not that he is. With this the Catechism concludes,
there being added the exhortation (p. 355) : " I have now set
before thee all things that could concisely be said by me regard-
ing this matter ; what remains for thee is that, having honestly
come to perceive them and know them, thou shalt fix them in
thy mind and regulate thy life in the way prescribed by
them."^

1 of course if every vere pius must be a schoolmaster it is unlikely that he will
remain hidden.

' " Quiedam hominum vere piorum multitudo ac eoruni inter sese conjunctio, quam
per similitudinem quandam et metaphorara ecclesiam appellare liceat, nam vere pii
hinc inde dispersi vel etiam latenles, si modo vera pietas latere sitiat, nonnisi im-
proprie ecclesia dici possunt."

* "Jam omnia quje a me compendio dici hac de re potuere tibi exposui ; tuimi est
ut lis probe perceptis atque cognitia ei menti infigas et secundum eorum priescriplum
vitam instituas."

CHAP. III.] THE SOCINIAN DOCTRINE. iGS

In modern Catholicism we have the neutralising, in Socin-
ianism the self-disintegration of dogma ; the preceding course
of exposition will have shown that in its fundamental nature the
latter is nothing else than the Nominalist doctrine, with its
principle logically carried out. As the Anabaptists and the
pantheistic mystics of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
are medieval phenomena, though fhey are not unaffected by the
spirit of a more modern age, the Socinians are not the " Ultra's
of the Reformation," but the successors of the Scotists.

But the development of dogma along Nominalistic lines has
here come to its conclusion ; dogma is dissolved. Certainly as
in every case of disintegration there are not wanting residuary
products. Adoptian, Arian, Pelagian motives and doctrines,
which seemed to have been subdued by dogma, make their
appearance again, and the strict holding to Scripture as the
source and authority for faith and for the system of Christian
doctrine, makes it seem even as if Socinianism held a very con-
servative attitude. Nevertheless the breach with history, and
with what had hitherto been called dogma is evident.
Nominalism adhered to the living authority of the Church,
indeed in this adherence it gave expression to its religious conviction,
even though the validity of this conviction had to be purchased
by renouncing a homogeneous view of God and the world.
Socinianism overcame the scepticism of Nominalism that sprang
from religious requirements; it is no longer, like Nominalism,
divided within \\.?,€tX—\X.\s doginatistic indeed — ; but while throw-
ing off the authority of Church and tradition, it at the same
time greatly lost power to understand and to feel what religion
is ; its " doctrines of faith," so confidently proclaimed, are, so far
as they are homogeneously and strictly drawn up, nothing else
than the dogmatism of the so-called sound human understanding,
to which the Bible commends itself, when it is dealt with
rationally.

And yet Socinianism is by no means simply a mediaeval, or,
for that part, only a pathological phenomenon ; it is seen also,
rather, to be a product of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries
and represents a powerful advance in the history of religion,
though it is only an indirect one. We can sum up what it

l66 HISTORV OK DOGMA. [CHAP. III.

accompiished in the following theses : (i) it acquired the laud-
able courage to simplify the question as to the nature
and import of the Christian religion, to throw off, in spite of
Catholics, Lutherans and Caivinists, the burden of the past, to
reduce to fragments by means of the understanding the system
of dogma, itself the work of mis-directed understanding,^ and to
restore to the individual the freedom to interrogate in the con-
troversy about the Christian religion simply the classic records
and himself; (2) it relaxed the close relationship between
religion and world-knowledge which had been formed by the
tradition of the ancient Church and sanctioned by dogma, and
sought to substitute ethics for metaphysics as a foil for religion.
Certainly it had poor enough success in that ; metaphysics as a
matter of fact was only attenuated, not improved or checked by
it. Nevertheless it was certainly a powerful antagonist of the
Platonism of the Church doctrine, and made its own contribu-
tions towards breaking the supremacy of that system ; (3) it
helped to prepare the way for its being perceived that religion
may not find its expression in unintelligible paradoxes and con-
tradictions, but that it must reach the point of well-defined and
approved declarations, which derive their force from their clear-
ness ;^ finally {4) it delivered the study of Holy Scripture from
the ban of dogma and itself made a good beginning with a
sound, historical exegesis. It is not difficult, certainly, in view
of all these merits of Sociniaiiism enumerated here to prove also
the opposite, i.e., to show how through the same tendencies
it rather strengthened old errors. But it is enough to reach
the certitude that all these merits really belonged to it. Its
having restricted, and in some measure cancelled, their power,
must not hinder us from attributing them to it. Chiefly through
the medium of Arminianism, but also directly, it helped to

' The history of dogma cannot, as a history of " illuminism" may do, stop short with
the negative achievemeDts of a school. Were that allowed, then Socinianism, with
its methodical criticism and its freedom from preposse^ions regarding all Church
tradition, could not be loo highly praised.

*Dilthey, I.e., Vol. 6, p. 88 f. : "What was epoch-making in Socinianism lies in
Ibe clear, sharp, and distinct carrying out of the principle, that the new PiotestanC
Christianity must justify itself before the Humanistic, Erasmic, historico- critical,
formal and moral reason of the great Century eager for progress."

CHAP. III.]

THE SOCINIAN doctrine.

167

introduce Illuminism (Aiifklamng), in the good, and in the bad
sense of the word, into Protestantism.

In the history of religion— taking the expression in the
strictest sense^Socinianism was on the other hand simply a
step backwards. For so far from its having to be placed here
alongside Protestantism, it was rather a further under-bidding
of Catholicism, even of the poorest form of it. That the
Christian religion is jaith, that it is a relation between person
and person, that it is therefore higher than all reason, that it
lives, not upon commands and hopes, but upon the power of
God, and apprehends in Jesiis Christ the Lord of Heaven and
earth as Father — of all this Socinianism knew nothing. Along
with the old dogma Christianity as religion was well-nigh com-
pletely set aside by it ; guilt and repentance, faith and grace
were conceptions that were not entirely discarded, merely from
a happy want of logical thoroughness — and on account of the
New Testament. It is in this logical inconclusiveness that the
Christian quality of Socinianism mainly lies.

CHAPTER IV.

THE ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PROTESTANTISM.

(i) Introduction^

At the close of the first chapter of this Book (E.T. Vol. V.,
Chap. I.) it has been pointed out in what sense, and to what
extent, the Reformation has to be treated within the lines of the
history of dogma; it must be dealt with as the issue of dogma,
and as its legitimate issue too. In the two issues brought under
notice up to this point, the real religious interests which co-
operated in giving an outline and shape to dogma had serious
injury done to them — in Catholicism, in so far as they were
completely overborne by the domination of the empirical
church — in Socinianism, in so far as they were almost absorbed
by moralism. In the one case the dogma was conserved, but the
persona!, conscious faith, which was to correspond with it, was
weakened by submission to the Church ; in the other case
dogma was discarded, but there was at the same time a failure

' In the Neue Kirchliche Zeitung, i8gi. Part I., Kilbel (t) has subjected to a keen
criticism the sketch of the Christian and theological position of Luther that was given
in the first edition of this book. I have found no reason on that account to alter my
statement, but herewith refer readers to that criticism. On the details of Luther's
doctrines I shall not enter, partly because that would not be in keeping with the aim
of this work, partly because my theolt^cal interest does not lead me so far as to
follow all these discussions with personal sympathy, or with criticism. Besides, I see
that Luther's decisive importance easily becomes lost to view, when an effort is made
to describe all his " doctrines." The concise and accurate way in which Loofe, in
his History of Dt^ma, has delineated a number of Lutheran doctrines in their growth,
is worthy of all admiration. In Herrma.nn'5 Book, "The Communion of the Christian
with God, described on the lines of Luther" (1S86, 1st ed. ; 1S96, 3rd ed.), and in
Thieme's work, "The Impulave Moral Power of Faith, an Inquiry into Luther's
Theol<^" (1895), we have two mode] instances of the way in which the details of
Luther's thought can be made intelligible anrl suggestive when looked at from a
comprehensive point of view.

rUAP, IV.] ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PROTESTANTISM. 169 .

to recognise the peculiar character of religious faith. pQst-
Tridentine Catholicism and Socinlaaistn are in many respects
modern phenomena ; but this is not true of them when we deal
with their religious kernel; they are rather the further con-
clusions of meditEval Christianity. The Reformation on the other
hand, as represented in the Christianity of Luther^ is in many
respects an Old Catholic, or even a medieval phenomenon, while if
it be judged of in view of its religious kernel, this cannot be
asserted of it, it being rather a restoration of ^auliM£-,ChristianUy
in the spirit of a new age}

In making this statement there is assigned to the Reformation
(the Christianity of Luther) its position in history, while at the
same time its relation to dogma is determined. From here al^o
we can see why the Reformation cannot be estimated simply by
the results which it achieved for itself during the two first
generations of its existence. How can any one deny, then, that
Catholicism, after it had roused itself to become a counter-
Reformation, and that Socinianism stood, for more than a
century, in a closer relation to the new age than Lutheran
Protestantism did?^ They worked in alliance with all the
culturing influences of the period; and poets, humanists, men of
learning, discoverers, kings, and statesmen, soon felt where their
proper place was if they were nothing else than scholars and
statesmen. At the cradle of the Reformation, certainly, it was
not sung that it would one day lag behind the times. It was
rather greeted at its birth with the joyful acclamations of the
nation, encircled with the shouts of humanists and patriots.
But this its more immediate future was already foreshadowed in
him from whom alone its future was to be expected — namely,

' " In Ihe spirit of a new age" — this also means that primitive Christianity was not
copied, nay, that there was a passing beyond its lines at important points.

* Hence, too, the numerous instances of Protestants, especially of leamtd Pro-
testants, reverting to Catholicism, down to the days of Christina of Sweden, and
indeed afier that time. The first Continental Protesta.nt who had the distinct feeling
that the Confession had become seriously marred was Calixtusof Helmstadt, who had
travelled much. But even the mystics among the Lutherans in the first half of the
■■eventeenth century make it apparent that they fell the Scholasric narrowing of the
Confession to be burdensome (see Rilschl, Gesch, des Tielismus, Vol, 11.). But
neither they nor Caiixtus found the right means of deliverance.

I70 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

in Luther. It is not the furthest possible advance beyond the .
average of an age that makes the truly great man, but the power
with which he can awaken a new hfe in existing society.'

What is at least a very one-sided and abstract view of Luther
is taken, when we honour in him the man of the new time, the
hero of an aspiring age, or the creator of the modern spirit. If
we wish to contemplate such heroes, we must turn to Erasmus
and his associates, or to men like Denck, Franck, Servede, and
Bruno. In the periphery of his existence Luther was an Old
Catholic, a medinsval phenomenon. For a period, certainly — it
was only for a few years — it seemed as if this spirit would
attract to itself and mould into a wonderful unity all that at the
time had living vigour in it, as if to him as to no one before the
power had been given to make his personality the spiritual
centre of the nation and to summon his century into the lists,
armed with every weapon.

Vet that was only a splendid episode, which for the time
being came rapidly to an end. Certainly those years from 1 5 19
till about 1523 were the most beautiful years of the Reformation,
and it was a wonderful providential arrangement that all that
was to be achieved, the whole task of the future, was taken in
hand forthwith by Luther himself and was close on being
accomplished by him. Still, tiiis rich spring-time was followed
by no abundant summer. In those years Luther was lifted
above himself, and seemed to transcend the limits of his peculiar
individuality — he was tlie Reformation, inasmuch as he summed
up in himself what was at once implied in the return to Pauline
Christianity and in the founding of a new age. At that time
the alliance also was concluded between Protestantism and
■ The complement of Ihia obaervalion is 10 be fouiirl in Ihe beautiful words Dillhey
his applied to Luther (Archiv. f. Gesch. dei I'bilos., Vol. V., Part 3, p. 355 f.) :
" Nowhere as yet has history spoken in favour of the ideal of a morality without
religion. New active forces of will, so far as we obseive, have always arisen in
conjunction with ideas about the unseen. liut the fruitful novelty within this
domain always arises from the historical connection itself, on the basis of the religious-
ness of a departing age, just as one coniiilion of life emerges from another. For it is
only when diasatLsfaction arises for the genuinely religious man from the innermost
and deepest religious and moral experience within the existing union, on the basis
of the altered slate of consciousness, that an impulse and diiection are given for the
new. So it was also with Luther" (see also I.e., p. 368).

CHAP. IV.] ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PROTESTANTISM. 171

Germany. It is true, no doubt, that evangelical Christianity
has been given to mankind, and, on the other hand, that the
German spirit is even to-day far from having surrendered itself
yet to Protestantism ; nevertheless, Protestantism and Germany
are inseparably connected. As the Reformation saved the
German Empire in the sixteenth century, so it still continues
always to be its strongest force, its permanently working
principle and its highest aim.

But it is given to no man to accomplish everything, and every
one whose work is lasting and who does not merely blaze forth
like a meteor, must retire within the limits appointed to his
nature, Luther also retired within those peculiar to him.
Those limits were not merely slight integuments, as .some
would have us believe, so that for his having become narrowed
we should have to throw the whole blame on Melanchthon and
the Epigones with their want of understanding ; Luther felt
them to be with other things the roots of his power, and in this
character allowed them to have their effect

But when the problem is contemplated of giving a picture of
this peculiar individuality of Luther, and reckoning up as it
were the sum of his existence, it must be said that no one as
yet has perfectly fulfilled this task. A representation of Lutiier
can only be given when he is allowed himself to speak and to
express himself in every line of his spiritual constitution ; this
Luther can be reproduced within us in sympathetic feeling, so
far as this is possible for more limited spirits ; but the attempt
to analyse seems to involve us in insoluble contradictions. Yet
the attempt must be made, if the complicated and in part con-
fused legacy he has left behind is to be rightly understood, and
if we are to master the problem that is forced upon those coming
after him by his appearing in an age in many respects foreign
to him.

He was only in one thing great and powerful, captivating and
irresistible, the master of his age, marching victoriously ahead of
the history of a thousand years with the view of inducing his
generation to relinquish the paths that were being followed and
to choose paths that were new — he was only great in the re-dis-
covered knawledqeof God which he derived from the gospel, i.e..

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

from Clirist. What had once been one of the motives in build-
ing up dogma, but had become unrecognisable in dogma, what
had thereafter, from the time of Augustine on through the
Middle Ages, accompanied dogma, vague in its expression, and
with a vaguely recognised title, namely, the living faith in the
God who in Christ addresses to the poor soul the words ; " I am
thy salvation "{" Salus tua ego sum"), the firm assurance that
God is the Being on whom one can place reliance — that was the
message of Luther to Christendom. The old Lutheran theolo-
gians introduced into their voluminous systems a chapter "on
the vocation of Luther" ("de vocatione Lutheri"). For that
they have been severely handled. But if we must read in a
system of Christian theology about Adam, Abraham and David,
we have a much greater right to welcome ,a paragraph about
Luther.'

For what he restored was nothing less than the religious way
of understanding the gospel, the sovereign right of religion in
religion. In the development that had preceded him there had
not been mere!}' the making a mistake here and there; there
had been a betrayal of religion to its enemies and to its friends.
Luther spoke himself of a Babylonian captivity, and he was

' At lofty moments of his life Luther spoke like a prophet and evangelist. All inter-
mediate conceptions and inttrmediary persons were transcended : " Vour wotshipfiil
Highness the Elector knows, or if he does not know, let it be hereby declared lo him,
thai I hare the gospel, not from men, bud only fTotn heaven through our Lord Jeans
Christ, so that I might very well have gloried in being, and written myself down aE,
a servant and evangelist, which I mean henceforward to do." Such self-consciotiiness
almost awakens misgivings j but it must not be overlooked that it is united with the
greatest humility before God ; it did not aiise suddenly, much less in a visionary way,
but it slowly developed itself From dealing with scripture and the religious possessions
of the Church ; it only makes its appeaiance, finally, in connection with the spirit,
" If God is for us, who can be against us ?" and does not intrude into the empirical
ecclesiastical sphere to dictate laws there. It must be recognised, therefore, as the
genuine expression of a religious freedom, of the kind described by Clement of Alex-
andria as Cbe temper of the true Christian, and of the kind which the mystics of all
ages have sought in their own way to reach. But we search in vain throughout the
whole of church history far men who could write such letters as that one to the
Elector, and for writings like those composed by Luther in Cobui^. I can veiy well
understand how Catholic critics should find in those letters an "insane arrt^nce."
There really remains only the alternative that we pass this judgment upon Luther, or
that we acknowledge that there belonged to him a special significance in the history
of ihc Christian religion.

^■1

ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PROTESTANTISM.

173

right in seeing this captivity both in the domination of an
earthly, self-seeking ecclesiasticism over religion, and in the
clinging around religion of a moraliam that crushed its life. It
may be remarked here at once, that he did not with equal
distinctness perceive the deplorableness of that captivity into
which religion had been brought by the Old Catholic theology.
That was not merely because his historic horizon extended only
to about the time of the origin of the Papal Church — what lay
beyond blending for him at many points into the golden line of
the New Testament — dui above all because dogma, the historic
legacy of the period between the second and seventh centuries, was
no longer the more immediate source from which there had flowed
the wrong conditions he had to contend with in the present. In
his day the old dogma was a thing lying dead, as has been
sufficiently shown in the account we have already given. No
one vitalised it for faith. When Luther therefore attacked the
errors of theology, he directed himself almost exclusively
against the Schoolmen and the MediFeval Aristotle. When he
rated and ridiculed reason, it was these people as a rule whom
he had in view;' when he severed the baleful bond between
religious doctrine and philosophy, he was turning his weapons
against the Jesuits. In combating theology he combated the
theology of the Middle Ages, and even this he combated only
in so far as it ignored the honour of God and of Christ, the
rights of God and the wrong done by the creature. Keeping
out of view his controversy with the Anabaptists, he knew of
no other controversy with reason than the controversy with
self- righteousness, and with the shifts of the man who makes
use even of religion to escape from his God.

What a wonderful linking together of things ! The same
man who delivered the gospel of Jesus Christ from ecclesiasticism
and moralism strengthened its authority in the forms of the Old
Catholic theology, nay, was the first to impart again to these forms
THcaning and importance for faith, after they liad for long cen-
turies remained inoperative. From the time of Athanasius there
had been no theologian who had given so much living power

1 See Fr. Niusch's valuable study, Luthei and Aristotle (18S3). Pupper of Goch
WHS a precursor of Luther in the radical lejection of philosophy and Scholasticism.

'74

HISTOKV OF DOGMA.

[chap. rv.

for faith to the doctrine of the Godhead of Christ as Luther did ;
since the time of Cyril no teacher had arisen in the Church for
whom the mystery of the union of the two natures in Christ
was so full of comfort as for Luther — " 1 have a better provider
than all angels are : He lies in the cradle, and hangs on the
breast of a virgin, but sits, nevertheless, at the right hand of
God, the almighty Father" ; no mystic philosopher of antiquity
spoke with greater conviction and delight than Luther of the
sacred nourishment in the Eucharist. The German Reformer
restored life to the formulae of Greek Christianity ; he gave
them back to faith. It is to be attributed to him that till
the present day these formula are in Protestantism a living
power for faith — yes, only in Protestanti.'jm. Here there is a
living in them, a defending or contesting of them ; but even
those contesting them understand how to estimate their relative
title. In the Catholic Churches they are a lifeless possession.

There is certainly injustice done to the "entire Luther" when
this side uf his significance as a Reformer — which to his own mind
was knit in an indissoluble unity with the evangelical side —
is dropped out of view or under-estimated. Luther was the re-
storer of tlie old dogma. He forced the interests of this on the
teaching of his time, thereby also compelling it to desert the
lines of the Humanist, Franciscan and political Christianity : the
Humanist and Franciscan age was obliged to interest itself in
what was most foreign to it — in the gospel and the old theology}

Indeed we may go a step further: Luther would at any
moment have defended with fullest conviction the opening words
of the Athanasian Creed ; " Whosoever will be saved, before
all things it is necessary that he hold the Catholic faith"

'There is, in myopicion, no dilTerence to be found in Luther at difTerent periods.
What he wrote (1541) In his pamphlet "Wider Hans Worst" (Erl. ed., Vo[. a6,
p. 15) in full agreement with the mediteval view of the " Twelve ArlLeles" be could
have written twenty years earlier : "No one can deny that we hold, believe, sing, and
confess all things that correspond wiih Che Apostles' Symbnl, the old faith of the old
Church, that we make nothing new therein, nor add anything theieto, and in this
way we belong to the old Church and are one with it. . . . If anyone believes and
holds what the old Church did, he is of the old Church." See also p. 35 ; "So the
life here can certainly be sinful and unrighteous, nay, unhappily is all too unrighteous;
but the doctrine must be certainly and absolutely -a-ithout ail sin."

CHAP. IV.] ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PKOTESTANTISM. I7S

("Quicunque vult salvus esse, ante omnia opus est, ut teneat
Catholicam fidem.") Not only does the Confession of Augsburg
ratify the old dogma in its first article, the Smalcaldic Articles
also begin with it: "regarding these articles there is no con-
troversy between us and our opponents, since we confess them
on both sides" ("de his articulis nulla est inter nos et ad-
versarioscontroversia, quum illos utrinqueconfiteamur") ; and if
in the immediately succeeding article "on the office and work
of Jesus Christ" ("de officio et opere Jesu Christi") it is then
stated : " To depart from this article, or to condone or permit
anything against it, is not possible for any of the pious" ("de
hoc articulo cedere aut aliquid contra ilium largiri aut per-
mittere nemo piorum potest"), the article is not meant to be
raised by an addition of the kind above those formerly named :
the former were regarded by Luther so much as settled matters
that he did not think of such a remark regarding them as being at
all necessary. Of this also there can be no doubt — that the
gospel was for him " saving doctrine, doctrine of the gospel "
Qdoctrina salutaris, doctrina evangelii"), which certainly in-
cluded the old dogmas ; the attempt to represent the matter
otherwise has in my opinion been a failure : the gospel is sacred
doctrine, contained in the Word of God, the purpose of which is
to be learned, and to which there must be subjection.'

How is it to be explained that in an age which had thrown
dogma into the background, and in which the spirit of science
and of criticism had grown so much stronger that it was already
combated from various sides, Lutlier appeared as a defender of
dogma and restored it to life again? To this question more
than one answer can be given ; one has been already stated r
Luther fought against the abuses and errors of the middle ages.
This answer can be still further expanded ; Luther never con-
tended against wrong theories and doctrines as such, but only
against such theories and doctrines as manifestly did serious in-
jury to the purity of the gospel, (" puritas evangelii ") and to its

I One of the almiigesl passages is to be found in Ihc " Kurzes fiekenntniss vom hi.
Abendmahl " {1545. Eriangen Edition, XXXII, p. 415) : " Therefore there must he
a helieving of everything, pure and simpli;, whole and entire, or a believing of no-
thing" (ho refers lo his doctrine of the Eucharist).

1/6 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

cumforting power. The statement of this carries with it the
other thing — namely, that there was no alliance between him
and the bright- visioned spirits whose aim was to amend
theology, and thereby to introduce a truer knowledge of the
world and its causes. There was entirely wanting to him the
irrepressible impulse of the thinker that urges him to secure
theoretic clearness : nay, he had an instinctive dislike for, and
an inborn mistrust of every spirit who, guided simply by know-
ledge, boldly corrected errors. Any one who thinks that here
again he can at the present day be a defender of the "entire
Luther," either does not know the man, or throws himself open
to the suspicion that for him the truth of knowledge is a matter
of small importance. That was the most palpable limitation in
the spiritual nature of the Reformer, — that he neither fully made
his own the elements of culture which his ^e offered, nor per-
ceived the lawfulness and obligation of free investigation, nor
knew how to measure the force of the critical objections against
the "doctrine" that were then already asserting themselves.
There may seem to be something paltry, or even indeed pre-
sumptuous in this remark; for Luther has indemnified us for
this defect, not only by being a Reformer, but by the inex-
haustible richness of his personality. What a wealth this
personality included! How it possessed, too, in heroic shape
all we have just found wanting at the time — a richness of
original intuition which outweighed all the "elements of culture"
in which it lacked, a certainty and boldness of vision which was
more than " free investigation," a power to lay hold upon the
untrue, to conserve what could stand the test, as compared with
which all " critical objections " appear pointless and feeble ;
above all, a wonderful faculty for giving expression to strong
feeling and true thought, for being really a speaker, and for
persuading by means of the word as no prophet had done
before ! Yet all these powerful qualities were still incapable of
securing for the coming generation a pure culture, because in
Luther's own case they were not produced by the impulse to
know things as they are. Certainly he had greater things to
do than to correct science and promote general culture in the
full breadth of its development ; and we may be devoutly

CHAP. IV.] ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PROTESTANTISM. 177

thankful that we have had experience of such a man. who made
all his activity subservient to the knowledge of the living God.
But it is pure Romanticism and self-delusion when one devoutly
admires the limitations of Luther's special individuality as being
the best thing in him, and it is something worse than Roman-
ticism and self-delusion when what was allowed in a hero, who
did not reflect, but did what he luas obliged to do, is raised to a
general law for an age which, when it frankly and without
hesitation applies itself to know the truth, likewise does what it
is under obligation to do. And then — who really ventures to
restore again the "entire Luther," with the coarseness of his
mediaeval superstition, the flat contradictions of his theology,
the remarkable logic of his arjjuments, the mistakes of his ex-
egesis and the unfairness and barbarisms of his polemic? Shall
we forget, then, all that has been learned by us, but that \vas
unknown to Luther— the requisite conditions of a true know-
ledge that is determined only by the matter dealt with, the re-
lativity of historic judgment, the proportion of things and the
better understanding of the New Testament? Is it not the
case that the more strictly Christianity is conceived of as spiritual
religion, the greater is its demand that it shall be in accord with
the whole life of our spirit, and can it be honestly said that this
accord is secured by the Christianity of Luther?

Yet it was not only his defective theoretic interest that led
Luther to stop short before the old dogma, nor was it only his
vague knowledge and imperfect understanding of the old
Catholic period ; the old dogma itself, rather, joined hands with
the new conception of the gospel •whi^h he enmtciated} Here also,

1 It has also been pointed out, that fiom the time of Justinian the old dogma intio-
duced the book of civil law, that the legal protection which it promiseti was extended
onl; to orthodoxy, and that, accordingly, every attack on the Trinity and Christology
was at that time necessarily regarded as anarchism and threatened with the heaviest
penalties. That is certainly correct, but I cannot discover that Lulher ever thought
of the serious consequences that would have followed for himself and his followers
from opposition to the old dogma. So far as I see, he never went so far as to feel
concerned about this, seeing that he adhered to the old dogma without wavering.
Had the case been othervrise, he would certainly have shown the courage that was
exhibited by Servede, The same thing, unless I am niLstaken, cannot be said of
Melanchthon and Calvin. As to the former, it wa.s oho anxious reflections aboot
matters of ecclesiastical and civil polity that led him to avoid those whose attitude

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAT. IV.

therefore, as everywhere, he was not regulated merely by external
authorities; the inward agreement, rather, which he thought he
found between his faith and that dogma prevented him becom-
ing uncertain about the latter. In "faith" he sought only the
honour of God and Christ ; that was also done by the old
formutre of faith. In "faith" he would hear nothing of law,
work, achievement and merit ; the formula; of faith were silent
regarding these. For him the forgiveness of sins, as creating a
holy Church and securing life and peace, wps the main part of
religion ; he found these things holding a commanding place in
the old formula;. Jesus Christ was apprehended by him as the
mirror of the fatherly heart of God, and therefore as God, and
he would know of no other comforter save God Himself, as He'
appeared in Christ and as He works through the Holy
Spirit; the old formula; of faith bore witness to the Father,
Son and Spirit, to the one God, who is a Triunity, and said
nothing of Mary, the saints, and other helpers of the needy.
His soul lived by faith in the God who has come as near to us
in earthly form as brother to brother; the old formulae of faith
testified to this by their doctrine of the two natures in Christ,
Like Paul he armed himself against the assaults of the devil, the
world and sin with the assurance that Christ by His death has
vanquished the powers of darkness and cancelled guilt, and that
He sits now as the exalted Lord at the right hand of God ; the
old formulae of faith bore witness to the death on the cross, the
resurrection and exaltation of Christ. While, under the rubbish-
heaps of the middle ages, he rediscovered the old faith of Paul
in the New Testament, he discovered this faith also in the old
dogma : the Church possessed it, confessed it daily, but no
longer paid regard to it, knew no longer what it had imported
into the mutterings of its priests, and thus in the midst of its
possessions forgot what it possessed. Over against this Church,
why should he not honour, along with the New Testament, the

lovrards Ihe old dogma was open to suspicion ;
the reproach that he would have taken a. differc
and would have treated the Antitrinitarians other'
See information about the civil and political sl(
Luther's Slelluag zu den okumenischen Synibolen

id Calvin can scarcely be freed from
ent attitude towards the old dogma,
wise, if he had been less political.
Lde of the question in Kattenbusch,

CHAP. !V.] ISSUES OF DOGMA IN PROTESTANTISM. I79

old dogma which witnessed to the Word of God! And in one
very important respect he was certainly entirely in the right —
this old dogma was really an expression of the religion of
ancient times : that which those times maintained together wttk
this, and by means of which they delimited dogma, was not intro-
duced into dogma itself . Only in the middle ages did law, merit
and achievement find a place among the doctrines of faith and
in worship. As compared with the medieval, the Old Catholic
Church had impressed on it more of a religious character ; in its
faith and in its Worship it confessed what God has done, and
what He will do, through Christ.

But was he not altogether right ? Was there not really the
most beautiful harmony between his faith and the old dogma?
This is still asserted at the present day, and an appeal is made
in support of it to the apparently strongest witness — to Luther
himself, who had no other idea in his mind. According to this
view, the shaping of dogma in the ancient Church, down to the
sixth and seventh centuries, was "sound"; the only thing
lacking to it was justification by faith. This supplement was
added by Luther, while at the same time he purified — or can-
celled — the false development of the Middle Ages. Over and
above this there is a talk about a " reconstruction," a " re-
modelling " of dogma, that was undertaken by Luther ; but
there is difficulty in explaining what such terms are intended to
mean 1 additions and subtractions are not equivalent to recon-
struction.' Hence the terms are not employed seriously ; they

1 See Thomasius-Seeberg, I.e., II., p. 748 : " The third Period gives us the re-
modellmg of degnia by the Reformation. Here the evanijelical faith in justification
U taken as the eentre. Proeecding from this the medieval conception of ChristLanity
is broken through at its most determinative points, and from this centre, while the
results of foregoiag dogma-constructions that are soutid and that are guaranteed by
the records of original Christianity are retained, a recanilruilinn of dogma is under-
taken." The expression "guaranteed by the records of original Christianity" is,
moreover, in the first place quite modem, a.nd hence from Luther's point of view
exlreirely objectionable, ond in the second place it represents a renunciation of all
that the Church has learned dnring the last 150 years with regard to the New Testa-
ment and the earliest history of dogma. Stil 1 more distinctly has Kahnis expressed
his view OS to the relation of the t.utheran Church to the Roman (Die Sachc der Luth.
Kirche geEeniiber det Union, 1S54, p. 90). After taking note of the fact that both
Churches recognise the (Ecumenical Symbols, and that the Lutheran Church assumes

l8o HISTORY OK DOGM.\. [CflAI'. IV.

suggest rather the admission that Luther's notion of faith in
some way modified dog;ma as a whole. How that took place
there is, of course, diFficulty in stating, for the moulding of
dogma in the ancient Church was "sound." From this point of
view the whole development of Protestantism from the end of
the seventeenth century till the present day must necessarily
appear a mistaken development, nay, an apostasy. It is a pity,
only, that almost all thinking Protestants have apostatised, and,
for the most part, differ from each other only according to the
clearness and honesty with which they admit their apostasy.

We have to inquire whether or not Luther's conception of
faith, i.e., what admittedly constituted his importance as a
Reformer, postulates the old dogma, and therefore, also, is most
intimately united with it.'

With this in view, we shall first gather together the most
important propositions in which he set forth his Christianity.
Then we shall adduce the most decisive critical propositions
which he himself stated as conclusions from his religious con-
ception of the Gospel. On the basis of these investigations it
will then appear whether, and to what extent, the general
attitude which Luther assumed towards the old dogma was free
from contradictions. If this can be determined, the final
question will arise, whether it is .still possible for the Church of
the present day to take up the same attitude.

(2) The Christianity of Luther?

In the cell of his convent Luther fought out the spiritual
battle, the fruit of which was to be the new and yet old evan-

trulhs, and only have a plus, agni'nsl wktck wc protest."

'What is dealt with here is simply the question as to the i aner connection between
Luthec'a Christianity and the old dogma. As to his having cancelled the validity of
the external authority of dogma, see above, p. 23 ff.

2 Full accounts of the theology of I^uther have been given us by Kostlin, Theoci.
Harnack, and Lommatzsch. From the point of view oi the history of dogma Plitl'i
" Einleitung in die Augustana" is of importance. For Luther's theology in its
initial shaping the works of Kostlin, Riehm, Seidemann, Hering, DieckhofT, Bralke,

CHAP. IV.] THE CllRISTIANITV OF LUTHp:!i. l8l

gelical knowledge.' Inward unrest, anxiety about his salvation,
had driven him into the convent. He had gone there in order
that — in a genuinely Catholic way — he might, through multi-
plied good works, propitiate the strict Judge, and " get for him-
self a gracious God."* But while he used all the means the
media;val Church offered him, his temptations and miseries
became more intense. He felt as if he was contending with all
the powers of darkne.ss, and as if, instead of being in the society
of angels in the convent, he was among devils. When in after
days at the height of his active career depression came upon
him, all that was required in order to regain strength was to
remember these convent horrors.' In the system of Sacraments
Ritschi, Kolcle, and Lipsius claim special consideration. A reliable account — though
presented in the light of the theology of the Epigones^has been furnished by
Thomasius-Seebei^, I.e., II., p. 330-394. In what follows, my lecture; "M.L. in
seiner Bed. f. d. Gesch. d. Wissenschaft u. d. Bildung," 1883, is made use of.

' Loofs makes the very accurate remark. I.e., p, 345 : " Luther's development in
itself teaches that the Lutheran Reformation did not spring from a criticism of the
ecclesiastical doctrine, that it was more than a revision of the ecclesiastical doctrinal
systen

o Duke George's latest book" (Erl.
heaven by monkery, I too would
mrades will bear me out in that,"
an entirely false beginning in
in his proper place. But his

Compare very specially the " Brief Answer
Ed. XXXL, p. 373) ! " If e»er a monk got ir
have found my way there ; all my convent c
According to Catholic opinion, of course, Luther 1
Che convent, and proved by his pride that he was
pride consisted simply in this, that he was more in earnest about the 1

^See one of the most characteKstic passage.s. I.e., p. 278 S. : "And after I had
made the profession I was congratulated by I he Prior, convent, and Father-confessor
im the ground of being now an innocent child, returning pure from baptism. And
certainly I could moat willingly have rejoiced in the glorious fact that I was such an
excellent man, who by his own works (so that was the popular view in spite of all the
dogmatic warnings again.4t it), without Christ's blood, had made himself so beautiful
and holy, and that so easily too, and in such a short lime. But although I listened
readily to such sweet praise and splendid language about my own deeds, and let my-
self he taken for a wonderworker, who in such an easy-going wayeould make himself
holy and could devour death and the devil to boot, etc., nevertheless there was no
power in it all to sustain me. For when even a small temptation came from death
or .sin I succumbed, and found there was neither baptism nor monkery that could
help me i thus I had now long lost Chrisl and His baptism, I was then the most
miserable man on earth ; day and night there was nothing hut wailing and despair,
so that no one could keep me under restraint. . . . God be praised ihat I did not
sweat myself to death, otherwise I should have been long ago in the depths of hell
with my monk's baptism. For what I knew of Christ was nothing more than that
He was a stem judge, from whom 1 would have fled, aod yet could not escape."

1 82

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[chap. I

and performances to which he subjected himself he failed to
find the assurance of peace which he sought for, and which only
the possession of God could bestow. He wished to base his hfe
for time and for eternity upon a rock (the mystic's fluctuation
between rapture and fear he had no experience of, for he wa.s
too strict with himselQ, but all supports that were recommended
to him fell to pieces in his hands, and the ground trembled
beneath his feet. He believed he was carrymg on a conflict
with himself and his sin ; but he was in reality contending
against the religion of his Church : the very thing that was
intended to be to him a. source of comfort became known to
him as a ground of terror. Amid such distress there was dis-
closed to him~sIowly and under faithful counsel — -from the
buried-up ecclesiastical confession of faith (" I believe in the
forgiveness of sins "),' and therefore also from Holy Scripture
(Psalms, Epistles of Paul, especially the Epistle to the Romans),
what the truth and power of the gospel are. In addition to
this, Augustine's faith -conception of the first and last things,
and especially his doctrine of "the righteousness which God
jjives,"^ were for him in an increasing degree guiding stars.^
But how much more firmly he grasped the essence of the
matter.* What he here learned, what he laid hold of as Me one
thing, wa.s the revelation of the God of grace in t/ie gospel, i.e., in
the incarnated, crucified, and risen Christ. The same experi-
ence which Paul had undergone in his day was passed through
by Luther, and although in its beginning it was not in his case
so stormy and sudden as in the case of the Apostle,^ j'et he, too,

' As far £.5 we can follow back Luther's thoughts in connection herewith— tliat
is, to the first years of his academic activity in Willenhei^ — we find that fot him the
gratia of God is forgiveness of sins, which God grants sine merito.

- See Luther's Lectures and Annotations on the Psalms, of the years 1513-151 j,
cf. Loofs, D. Gesch., 3rd ed., p. 346 f.

^ Especially also Augustine's doctrine of the entire incapacity of fallen man for the
good, and accordinEly also his predcsLi nation doctrine (see tlie information Lulher
gives of himself from the year 1516 to the year 1517)-

* For Augustine there is ultimately in the salvation which grace bestows something
dark, indescribable, mysteriously communicated ; Luther sees in it the forgiveness of
sins — that is, the God of grace Himself; and he substitutes therefore for a mysterious
and transforming communication the revelation of the living God and "fides."

^ The way in which Luther gave expression to his faith during the first period shous

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER.

learned from this experience that il h God wlio gives faith :
" When it pleased God to reveal His Son in me." In Luther's
development down to the year 1517, there was an entire
absence of all dramatic and romantic elements : that is perhaps
the most wonderful thing in this wonderful cliaracter, ahd is the
seal of its inward greatness. From Mysticism, to which he
owed much, and the speculations of which he not unfrequently
followed in connection with particular questions, he was separ-
ated by the entirely unmystical conviction that trust in God
" on account of Christ " (" propter Christum ") is the real con-
tent of religion, which nothing transcends, and the limitations
of which can be removed by no speculation. Trust in the
"truth "of God aiid in the work of Christ formed for him a
unity, and he knew no other way of approaching the Being who
rules heaven and earth than by the cross of Christ (per crucem
Christi). '

That, however, which he had experienced, and which, with
ever-increasing clearness, he now learned to state, was, in com*
parison with the manifold things which his Church offered as
religion, above everything else an immense reduction, an
emancipating simplification. In this respect he resembled
Athanasius^ — with whom in general he had the most noteworthy
affinity — and was very unlike Augustine, who never controlled
the inexhaustible riches of his spirit, and who stimulated, there-
fore, rather than built up. TJiat reduction meant nothing else
than the restoration of religion : seeking God and finding God.
Out of a complex system of expiations, good deeds and
comfortings, of strict statutes and uncertain apportionments of
grace, out of magic and of blind obedience, he led religion forth
and gave it a strenuously concentrated form. The Christian
religion is living assurance of the living God, who has revealed

us plainly that be learned not onljr from Augustine but also from the mediieval
mystics (from Bernard onwards). The linking together of surrender to God with
surrender to Christ is for the first lime clearly apparent in tbciu ; fnr Augustine it
was much mnre vague. In this sense Luther's faith stands in a distinct historic line ;
yet the originality and force of his experience as a believer is not thereby detracted
from. Even in the domain of religion there is no generatio lequivoca.

'See Loofs, I.e., p. 34S.

'Sec Vol. IIL.p. 140.

184 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP, IV.l

Himself and opened His heart in Christ' — nothing else.
Objectively, it is Jesus Christ, His person and work ;^ subjec-
tively, it is faith (" faith Is our life " [" fides vita nostra est "]) ;
its content, however, is the God of grace, and therefore the
forgiveness of sins, which includes adoption and blessedness.
For Luther, the whole of religion was contained within this
circle. The living God — not a philosophical or mystical ab-
straction — the God manifest, certain, the God of grace, accessible
to every Christian. Unwavering trust of the heart in Him who
has given himf^elf to us in Christ as our Father, personal assur-
ance of faith, because Christ with His work undertakes our
cause — this became for him the entire sum of religion. Rising
above all anxieties and terrors, above all ascetic devices, above
all directions of theology, above all interventions of hierarchy
and Sacraments, he ventured to lay hold of God Himself in
Christ, and in this act of his faith, which he recognised as God's
work, his whole being obtained stability and firmness, nay, even
a personal certainty and joy, such as no medieval man had ever
possessed, ^

From perceiving that " with force of arms we nothing can,"

'Larger Catechism II., 3 (p. 460, Miiller} : " Neque unquam propHis vitibus
perveiiice possemus, ut patris fa-vorem ac gratiam cognoscuremus, nisi per Jesum
Chtistum dominum nostrum, qui patcmi aitimi erga nos speculum est, exlra. qneni
nihil nisi iratum el truculenlum videmus judicem."

' It has been very specially shown by Theod. Harnack in his work, Luther's
Theologie (see particularly the 2nd Vol.), that Luther's whole theology is Christology.

3 The fullest, most distinct, and truest account of Luther's religion is to be found in
Herrmann's book referred to above, "The Communion of the Christian with God ;
a discussion in i^reement with the view of Luther," 3rd ed., 1896. Dilthey also
makes the excellent remarks (I.e., p. 358): "The justification of which the mediieval
man had iiiwarii experience was ihe descending of an objective stream of forces upon
the believer from the transcendental world, through the Incarnation, in the channels
of the ecclesiastical institutions, priestly consecration, saci-aments, Confession, and
works i it was something that lock place in csnneiHoa with e supersensible riginu.
The justification by faith of which Luther was inwardly aware was the personal
experience of Ihe believer standing in the continuous line of Christian fellowship, by
whom assurance of the grace of God is experienced in the taking place of a persenai
faith, an experience derived from the appropriation of the work of Chiist that is
lirought about y^j 'Ctx personal eleetion of grace." What Dilthey adds is correct ; "If
it necessarily resulted from Ibis that there was a change in the coniicious attitude
towards dogma and in the basing of fiiith thi-roon, this change did tint touch the nialler
I'/ the old ecclesiastical dogma. ''

HE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER.

he derived the utmost freedom and force ; for he now knew the
power which imparts to the life steadfastness and peace ; he
knew it, and called it by its name. Faith — that meant for him
no longer adherence to an incalculable sum of Church doctrines
or historical facts ; it was no opinion and no action, no act of
initiation (actus initiationis) upon which something greater
follows ; it was the certainty of forgiveness of .sins, and therefore
also the personal and continuous surrender to God as the Father
of Jesus Christ, which transforms and renews the whole man.'

That was his confession of faith : faith is a living, busy,
active thing, a sure confidence, which makes a man joyous and
happy towards God and all creatures,^ which, like a good tree,
yields without fail good fruit, and which is ever ready to serve
everyone and to suffer all thing's. In spite of all evil, and in
spite of sin and guilt, the life of a Christian is hid in God.
That was the ground-thought of his life. As included within
this, the other thought was discerned and experienced by him^
the thought of the freedom of a Christian man. This freedom
was not for him an empty emancipation, or a licence for every

1 Compare AuguSL c. 30 : " Admonentur etiam homines, quod hie nomen fidei non
sigiiiticct Unlum histoTue nolitiam, qiialts est impiis cl diabnln, sed significet ttdem,
quie credit non tantum hi5toriam,sed etiam efTectum historic, videlicet hunc articulum,
retiiisdonem peccatoruiii, quod videlicet per Christum habeanms gratiam, justitiam et
remisaionem peccalorutn." Compare the exposition □( the znd Main Article in the
" Kurze Form " (manual for piajer) : " Here it is to be observed thai Ihere are two
kinds of believing; first, a believing about God, which means that I believe that
what is said of (lod is Line. This faith is rather a form of knowledge or observation
than a faith. There \s, secondly, a believing in God, which means that I put my
trust in Him, give mj'self up to thinking that 1 transact with Him, and believe
without any doubt that He will be and do to me according to the things said of Him.
Ijuch faith, which throws itself on God, whether in life or in death, alone makes a
Christian maji."

2 Preface to the Epistle to the Romans (Erl. Ed. LXHI., p. 124 f.}: "Faith is a
divine work in us, through which we are cbanged and regenerated by God. . . . O,
il is a living, busy, active, powerful thing faith, so that it is impossible for it not to
do us good continually. Neither does it ask whether good works are to be done,
but before one asks it has done them, and is doing them always. Bat anyone ivho
dot! not do suth works 11 an unbelieving man, gropes and looks about him for faith
and good works, and knows neither what faith is nor what good works are. . . .
Failh is a living, deliberate confidence in the grnce of God, so certain that for it
il could die a thousand deaths. And such coniidence and knowledge of divine grace
makes joyons, intrepid, and cheerful towar<ls God and -ill creation."

iUSTORV OK DOGMA, [CHAP. IV.

kind of subjectivity ; for him freedom was dominion over the
world, in the assurance that if God be for us, no one can be
against us ; for him that soul was free from all human laws
which has recognised in the fear of God and in love for and
trust in Him its supreme law and the motive principle of its
life: He had learned, certainly, from the old Mystics ; but he
had found what they sought for. Not unfrequently they re-
mained imprisoned in sublime feelings; they seldom attained
to a lasting sense of peace ; while at one time their feeling of
freedom rose to oneness with God, at another time their feeling
of dependence deepened into psychical self-annihilation. On
Luther's part there was a struggle issuing in active piety, and
in an abiding assurance of peace. He vindicated the rights of
the individual in the first instance for himself; freedom of con-
science was for him a personal experience. But for him the
free conscience was a conscience inwardly bound, and by indi-
vidual right he understood the sacred duty of trusting courage-
ously to God, and of rendering to one's neighbour the service
of independent and unselfish love.

Of trusting courageously to God — because he feared nothing,
and because, in his certainty of God, his soul overflowed with
joy : " It is impossible for one who hopes in God not to rejoice ;
even if the world falls to wreck, he will be overwhelmed
undismayed under the ruins."* Thus he became the Reformer,
because through his joyous faith he became a hero. If even in
science knowledge is not enough, if the highest things are
achieved only where there is courage, how should it be otherwise
in religion? What Christian faith is, revealed itself to the
Germans in Luther's person. What he presented to view was
not new doctrine, but an experience, described at one time in
words strongly original, at another time in the language of the
Psalms and of Paul, sometimes in that of Augustine, and some-
times even in the cumbrous propositions of the scholastic
theology. The critical application of his faith to the state of
things existing at the time, to the Church as it was, Luther

15 illabatui
cr Ausgabe

CHAT. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHEU.

187

never desired ; it was forced upon him because his opponents,
observed much sooner than himself the critical force of what he
declared.

In Luther's view of faith there was implied his view of the
Church. For him the Church was the community of the saints,
i.e., of believers, whom the Holy Spirit has called, enlightened
and sanctified through the Word of God, who are continually
being built up by means of the gospel in the true faith, who
look forward confidently and joyfully to the glorious future of
the sons of God, and meanwhile serve one another in love, each
in the position in which God has placed him. That is his
whole creed regarding the Church — the community of believers
(saints), invisible, but recognisable by the preaching of the
Word.' It is rich and great ; and yet what a reduction even
this creed is found to contain when it is compared with what
the medieval Church taught, or at least assumed, regarding
itself and the work assigned to it ! Luther's creed was entirely
the product of his religious faith, and it rests on the following
closely united principles, to the truth of which he constantly
adhered. First, that the Church has its basis in the Word of
God ; second, that thisWord of God is the preaching of the re-
velation of God in Christ, as being that which creates faith ;
third, that accordingly the Church has no other field than that
of faith, but that within this field it is for every individual the
mother in whose bosom he attains to faith ; fourth, that because
religion is nothing but faith, therefore neither special perform-
ances, nor any special province, whether it be public worship^
or a selected mode of life, nor obedience to ecclesiastical in-
junctions, though these may be salutary, can be the sphere in
which the Church and the individual give proof of their faith,
but that the Christian must exhibit his faith in neighbourly
service within the natural relationships of life, because they
alone are not arbitrarily chosen but provided, and must be
accepted therefore as representing the order of God.

With the first principle Luther assumed an antagonistic
attitude towards the received doctrine both of tradition and of

■ One easily sees that this definilion \as an Augusti
by the determi native position given to the factors "

l88 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [ClIAl'. IV.

the power belonging to the bishops and the Pope. He saw
that previous to his time, the question as to tvhat is Christian
and what the Church is had been determined in a way quite
arbitrary and therefore also uncertain. He accordingly turned
back to the sources of religion, to Holy Scripture, and in
particular to the New Testament The Church has its basis in
something fixed, something given, which has never been want-
ing to it — -in this he distinguished himself from the " enthusiasts "
— but this thing that is given is not a secret science of the
priesthood, nor is it a dreary mass of statutes under the protec-
tion of the holy, still less papal absolutism ; but it is some-
thing which every simple-minded Christian can discern and
make proof of: it is the Word of God as dealt with by the pun-
understanding. This thesis required the unprejudiced ascertain-
ment of the really literal sense of Holy Scripture. All arbitrary
exposition determined by authority was put an end to. As a
rule Luther was in earnest in complying with this demand, so
far as his vision carried him. He could not, certainly, divine
how far it was to lead. Yet his methodical principles of
" interpretation," his respect for language, laid the foundation
for scripture- science.

The second principle distinguishes Luther both from the
theologians and from the ascetics and sectaries of the Middle
Ages. In thinking of the Word of God they thought of the
letter, of the inculcated doctrines, and the miscellaneous
promises of Holy Scripture ; he thought of what formed the
core. If he speaks of this core as being "the gospel according
to the pure understanding," " the pure gospel," " the pure Word
of God," " the promises of God " {" promissiones dei "), but,
above all, as being "Jesus Christ," all these expressions as
understood by him are identical. The Word of God which he
constantly had in his mind, was the testimony of Jesus Christ,
who is the Saviour of souls. As faith has only to do with the
living God and Christ, so also the authority for faith and for the
Church is only the effectual V^ord of God, as the Christ who is
preached} Accordingly the Church doctrine also is nothing

1 Here, according to Luther's view, offier also has its place in Ihe Church ; il h thi'
isliliiled in the Church (not the

CHAV. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER. 189

but the statement of the gospel, as it has created and holds
together the Christian community, the sum of the " consolations
offered in Christ" (" consolationes in Christo propositi").

But if the Church has its basis simply in these "consolations"
and in the faith that answers to them, it can have no other
sphere and no other form than those which the Word of God
and faith give to it. Everything else must fall away as dis-
turbing, or as at least unessential. In this way the third
principle is obtained. The conception of the Church is greatly
reduced as compared with the mediaeval conception, but it has
thereby gained in inner force, and has been given back to faith.
Only the believer sees and knows the holy Christian com-
munity; for it is only he who perceives and understands the
Word of God ; he believes in this Church, and knows that
through it he has attained to faith, because the Holy Spirit has
called him through the /r^'nc/wif Word.'

individual congregation) wilh a view to leading the individual to faith. The
creator of this office is, of course, God, not the Church, much less the
individual congregaliun, and it has its field simply in the sdmioislnition of the means
oF grace wilh a view to the establishment and maintenance of feith. (See Art. 5 of
the Confession of Augsbui^ : " Ut hanc fidem consequamur, institutum est minislerium
docendi evangelii et ponigendi sacramenta ■"). That it is occupied exclusively with
this aim is shown in the subsequent part of the article. But in order to obviate a
false fanatical conclusion it is said in Art. 14 : " De ordine ecdesiastico doccnt, quo I
nemo debeat in ecclesia publice docere aut sacramcnla adminlstraie, nisi rile vocalus."
The vocatio legilima is of course a function tliat is tied to legal ordinances, and thereby
is withdrawn, both from the order of salvation and from arbitrary self-determination.
'See the Laiger Catechism (Milller, p. 4S5) = " Spiritus aanctus saneti licationis
munua ex'equjtui per communionem sanctonim aut ccclesiara Chri^tianorum, re-
misaionem pcccaloruni, camia resurrectionem et vitam asternam ; hoc est primum nos
ducit spiritus b. in snnctani communionem suam, ponens in ainnm eccleaiEc, pet quam
nos docet el Christo adducil. . . . Ecclesia est mater et quemlibel Christianum
parlurit ac alii per vetbum, quod spiritus s. revelal et priedicat et per quod peclor.a
illuminat et accemlit, ut veibum accipiani, amplectantur, illi adhLerescant inque eo
perseverent." See nlso the Kirchenpostille, Predigt am 3. Chrialt^e (Erl. Ed. X.,
p. i6z) ; "The Christian Church keeps all words of God in its heart, and revolves
them, maintains their connection with one another and wilh scripture. Therefore
anyone who is lo find Christ must first find the Church. How would one know
where Christ is and faith in Him is, unless He knew where His believers are? And
whoever wishes to know something about Christ must not trust to himself, not by the
help of his own reason build a bridge of his own lo heaven, but must |;o to the Church,
must visit it and make inquiry. Now the Church is not wood and stone, but the
company of people who believe in Christ ; with these he must keep in connection.

igo HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

Finally, the fourth principle had, outwardly, the most far-
reaching consequences ; if everything depends upon faith, both
for the individual and for the Church, if it is God's will to
transact with men only throug;h faith, if faith alone is acceptable
to Him, there can be no special fields and forms of piety and no
specific pious ways of life as distinct from other ways. From
this it followed that the demonstration and practical exercise of
faith had to be within the great institutions of human life that
have their origin in God (in marriage, family, state, and calling).
But all that was included in worship row appeared also in
quite a different light. If it is an established fact, that man has
neither power nor right to do anything in the way of influencing
God, if the mere thought of moving God to alter his feeling
means the death of true piety, if the entire relation between
God and man is determined by the believing spirit, i.e., by

And see how those believe, [ive, and leach who assuredly have Christ among them.
For outside of the Christian Church there is nn trutli, no Chiist, no blessedness." Into
Luther's view of the congregation I do not enter, partly because what is dogmatic in
it is simply an application of his conception ol the Church, partly because the applica-
tion was by no means a definite one, Luther having expressed himself very diffeteotJy
<in the relation of the particular congregation to the Church, on the powers of the
particular congregation, and on the lalter as empirical and as representing the true
Church. Sohm's able exposition {Kircheni'echl, lSi|2, 1. , p., 460 ff. ) has been justly
descjibed as one-sided. There is correspondence with a frequently expressed thought
flf Luther in what Suhm writes, p. 473 : " Christian /aiM knows of no congregations
within the Eccle&ia (Christendom) in a legal sense, but only of ^(Aeniyi of believers,
which do not as such exist in a legal capacity, hut are subject to change in their existence;
but which, nevertheless, have this quality, that they represent entire Christendom,
the Church of Christ, with all its power and gifts of grace." But besides that this
conception is not the only conception of Luther that bears on this matter, when
Sohm (p. 479) represents Luther as distinguishing between "human order" and
"legal order" (" there may he human order in the Church of Christ, but il is never
Ugal order, and can therefore be instituted in any case only as an order simply to he
voluntarily observed, never as an order to be enforced by outward compulsion "), this
distinction I would not tie disposed lo regard as in accordance with Luther's views,
-and the rigid definition also of law by which Sohm is every where guided (" enforced
by outward compulsion") I regard as overstrained in its application to ecclesiastical
law. There is surely still a third thing that lies between "voluntary" and "outward
conipnlsion " — namely, the diiti/ul recognition of a salutary order, and the sum of
what is to be recognised in the Church as dutiful has always been described as being
.also ecclesiastical law, — The general priesthood of all helievers (see especially the
Address to the Christian Nobles) was never surrendered by Luther ; but in its applica-
ition to the empirical congr^ations he became very much more cautious.

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER. 19I

firmly established trust in God, humility and unceasing prayer,
if, finally, all ceremonies are worthless, there can no longer be
exercises which in a special sense can be described as "worship
of God."' There is only one direct worship of God, whicli is
faith ; beyond this there is the rule that cannot be infringed,
that God must be served in love for one's neighbour. Neither
mystic contemplation nor an ascetic mode of life is embraced in
the gospel.

The inherent right of the natural order of life was for Luther
as little an independent ideal as was freedom from the law of
the letter. Like every earnest Christian he was eschatologically
determined, and looked forward to the day when the world will
pass away with its pleasure, its misery, and its institutions.
Within it the devil in bodily form continues to ply his daring
and seductive devices; therefore there can be no real improve-
ment of it. Even in one of his most powerful treatises, " On the
freedom of a Christian man," he is far from making the religious
man, the man of faith, feel at home in and be contented with
this world, and far from saying to him that he must find his
satisfaction and ideal in building up the Kingdom of God on
earth by ministering love. No, the Christian awaits in faith the
glorious appearing of the Kingdom of Christ, in which his own
dominion over all things shall be made manifest ; meanwhile,
during this epoch of time, he must be a servant in love and bear
the burden of his calling. Yet whether we are disposed to
regard this view of Luther as a limitation or as the most correct
expression of the matter, it is certain that he transformed, as no
Christian had done before him since the age of the Apostles, the

1 See ihe exposilion of the and and 3r(i Cummandments in the I.arger Catechism
(p. 399) ; " Hie enim rectus nominis divini cullus cat, ut de eo omnem nobis omnium
malonim levalionem et uansnlationem polliceamur eamque obrem ilium impluremusi
ita ut cor prins pet fidem deo suum bonorcni tribuai, deinceps vcro os bonorifica
cotiTessione idem facial." Sec also the famaus passage, p. 401 : " Ccieium, ut hinc
Chcistianum aliquem intellectum ha.uiia.nius pro simplicibus, quidnam dcus boc in
prsacepto (scil. lertio) a nobis cxigat, ita babe : iios dies festas cehbrare, non propter
intettegentes el truditos Ckristianos, hi emm nihil opus Aaieni firits. " See also Conf.
of Auga. (p. 60) : " Omnis cultus dei, ab hominibus sine cnaodato dei institutus el
elecLus ad promereiidam jubtiticationem et gratiam, impius est." The whole Refonna-
lion of Lulher may be described as a Reformalion of " divine worship," of divine
worship on the part of the individual and on the part of the whole community.

192 HISTORY OF UOCMA. [CHAl'. IV.

ideal of religious perfection, and that at the same time it fell to
him to transform also the moral ideal, although it was only on
the religious side that he was able firmly to establish what was
new.' If we will make clear to ourselves the significance of
Luther, his breach with the past, we must keep his new ideal of
the Christian life and Christian perfection as much in view as his
doctrine of faith, from which that ideal originated, and his
freedom from the law of the letter and of Church doctrine and
Church authority. What an extraordinary reduction Is repre-
sented also by Luther's new ideal ! That which was hitherto
least observed under the accumulation of fine-spun and com-
plicated ideals — lowly and assured confidence in God's Fatherly
providence and faithfulness in one's calling (in neighbourly
service) — he made the chief nnatter; nay, he niised it to the
position of the sole ideal ! That which the mediaeval period
declared to be something preliminary, knowledge of God as Lord
and Father and faith in his guardianship, he declared to be the
main part of practical Christianity : those only who belong to

' To RitschI belongs the great merit of having — it may be said for the first time
— dearly anJ successfully ilemonat rated the importance of the Reformalion frum ihe
tisnsrormation of the ideal of teli|^nus and moral perreclion. Yet in doing this he
has not, in uiy opinion, giv-eo sufficieni weight to tbe eschatolt^cal tendency in
Luther. But he has restored their signiticance lo the expositions in Aits. (3), 16, so,
26, 27 of the Augs. Conf, : " Damnajit et illos, qui evangelicara perfcctionem non
collocant in timore dei et Rde, sed in deserendis civilibus otficiis, quia evangelium
tradit justitiam EBlemani cordis. Interim non disaipat politiam aut (EConomiam, sed
maxime postulat cunservare tamquam ordinationes dei et in talihus ordination i bus
exercere caritatem." , . . "Jam qui scit He per Christum habere propilium patrem,
is verc novit deum, scit ^ ei curs esse, invocat eum, deiiique nun est sine deo Eicut
genles. Nam diaboli et impii non possunt hunc articulum credere, remissionem
peccatatum. Ideo detim tamquam hoslem oderunt, non invocant eum. nihil boni
ab eo ex°pectant." Of the past time it is said, chap. 26 : " Interim mandata dei
JHXta vocalionem nullam laudem habebant ; quod pater familias educabat sobolem,
quod mater pariebat, quod princeps regebat rempublicam, ha:c putabantur esse opera
mundana et longe detetiora illis splendidis observation ibus." 2^ : " Perfectio
Christiana est aeiio timere deum et rursus concipere magnam lidem et confidere
propter Christum, quod habeamus deum piacalum, petcre a deo et certo eispeclare
ausilium in omnibus rebus gerendis juita vocationem ; interim foris diligeoter facete
bona opera et setvire vocalioni. In his lebus est vera perfectio et verus cultus dei."
A radical and Itecn criticism was applied to monachism prior to Luther's lime by
Pupper of Goch in his Dialogue (see O. Clemen, I.e., pp. 167-181) ; he, however,
could not sever himself from Ihe ideal of evangelical povtny in the funii of Ibe vita

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHEK. 193

Christ have a God ; all others have Him not, nay, know Him
not' That which the mediaeval age looked upon with mistrust,
worldly calling and daily duty, was regarded by Him as the true
sphere of the life that is well-pleasing to God. The effects were
immeasurable; for at one stroke religion was now released from
connection with all that was foreign to it and the independent
right belonging to the spheres of the natural life was recognised.
Over the great structure of things which we call the Middle
Ages, over this chaos of unstable and inter-blended forms, there
brooded the spirit of faith, which had discerned its own nature
and therefore its limits. Under its breath everything that had a
right freely to assert itself began to struggle forth into indepen-
dent development. Through his thinking out, proclaiming, and
applying the Gospel, everything else was to fall to the Reformer.
He had no other aim than to teach the world what the nature of
religion is ; but through his seeing the most important province
in its distinctive character, the rights of all others also were to
be vindicated ; science no longer stands under the ban of
ecclesiastical authority, but must investigate its object in a
secular, i.e., in a "pure" way;* the Stale is no longer the
disastrous combination of compulsion and need, so con.structed
as to lean for support on the Church, but is the sovereign order
of public social life, while the home is its root ;" Ian.' is no longer

^Larger Catechism, P. II., 3, p. 460: " I'roinde ii articuli noslrre lidei nos
Christianos ab omnibus aliis, qui sunt in terris, hominibus separant. Quicumque
enim extra Christianitalem sunt, iive gentiles sive TurcEB sive Judsei aut falsi eliam
Christiani el hypocritie, quamqiiam unum tantum et verum deum esse credant et
invocent, nique tamai csrtum habmt, quo erga 60s animalus sil animo, tiequi gitid-
quam fiaiari aut gratia dt den sibi poUiari audtnl aut possuni, quamobrem in perpetua
manent ira et damnattone. Neque enim babenC Christum domlnum neque ullis
spiritus sancti donis et dotibus illuatrali et donati sunt."

sSeej.^-. Lhe Treatise " Uii Councils and Churches" (Eri. Ed., Vol, 25, p. 386}:
"Of lhe schools I have . . . frequently written, that we must hold a firm and
decided opinion about them. For although in what the boys learn, languages and
arts, we must recc^nise what is heathenish and external, yet they are certainly of very
great service." The conclusions, it is true, were not drawn by Luther. He had as
yet no independent science confronting him, or at least only approaches to it.

>,"On Cuuncils and Churches" (p. 387 f.), after a brief sketch of "Home,"
" Stale," and " Church " : " These are three kierarrkiis, ordained by God, and there
niu5t be no more ; and we have enough, and more ihsin enough, to do in securing
that in these three we shall live rightly in opposition to the devil. . . . Over and

194

HISTORY OK DOGMA

[chap. IV.

an undefinable thing lying midway between the power of the
stronger and the virtue of the Christian, but is the independent |
norm of intercourse, guarded by the civil authorities, and a
divinely ordained power, withdrawn from the influences of the
Church; marriage is no longer a kind of ecclesiastical con-
cession to the weak, but is the union of the sexes, instituted by
God, free from all ecclesiastical jjuardianship, and the school of 4
the highest morality ; care for the poor and active cftarity are no '
longer a one-sided pursuit carried on with a view to securing I
one's own salvation, but are the free service of one's neighbour,
which sees in the real giving of help its ultimate aim and its only i
reward. But above all this— //^^ ci'uil calling, the simple activity J
amidst family and dependents, in business and in office, is nol
]onger viewed with suspicion, as an occupation withdrawing theJ
thoughts from heaven, but is the true spiritual province, the field f
in which proof is to be given of one's trust in God, one's humility j
and prayerfulness — that is, of the Christian character that is |
rooted in faith.

These are the fundamental features of Luther's Christianity.
Any one who takes his stand here and becomes absorbed in
Luther's conception of faith, will at once find difficulty in hold-
ing the view that, in spite of all this, Luther only supplemented
the old " sound " dogma by adding one, or one or two, doctrines.
He will be inclined rather to trust here the Catholic judgment,
according to which Luther overthrew the system of doctrine of
the ancient and media-'val Church and only retained portions of
the ruins. At the same time it must not be denied that the
steps towards constructing on principle a new ideal of life were
not developed by critical force to the point of clearness. For
this the time was not yet ripe. In an age when life still con-
tinued every day to be threatened by a thousand forms of
distress, when nature was a dreaded, mysterious power, when
legal order meant unrighteous force, when terrible maladies of
all kinds abounded, and in a certain sense no one was sure of
his life — in such a time there was necessarily no rising beyond

natural, a.r
Jilasphemo'

ihree lofty, divine forms of govcrnnicnl, over and above the (hrei
secular spheres of law, why should we have to do, then, '
, juggling laws or government of the Pope?"

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OK LUTHER. IpS

the thought that the most important earthly function of rehgion
is to give comfort amidst the world's misery. Assuagement of
the pain of sin, mitigation of the evil of the world— this
Augustinian mood remained the prevalent one, and assuredly it
is neither possible nor intended that this mood should ever dis-
appear. But the task that h set to Christian faith to-day is no
apocryphal one because it has not on its side a tradition of
Church history. It must be able to take a powerful part in the
moulding of personality, in the productive development of the
dominion over nature, in the interpenetrating of the spiritual life
with the spirit, and to prove its indispen sable ness in these
directions, otherwise it wil! become the possession of a sect, in
disregard of whom the great course of our history will pass on
its way. ,

"^
It is advisable that we should submit to a brief treatment the
most important of the /iTr//ir«/(Tf doctrines and theological con-
ceptions which Luther made use of, and should present them
here in the sense in which they were utilised by him in support
of his new way of apprehending faith. We have to consider
them, accordingly, only in their newly - moulded, positive
significance. Yet it must be said here at the outset that Luther
exercised a very great freedom in the u.se of theological
terminology, and Melanchthon followed him in this down to the
time of the Apology. That alone which to Luther appeared
worth dealing with in theology was the divine action in Jesus
Christ and the experience of faith in this action. Just because
it was not a mere doctrine that occupied his attention, he used
very freely the doctrinal formula, employed the numerous
expressions which Scripture the old Symbols, and Scholasticism
furnished, but very frequently treated them as synonymous.
Not a few have felt that they have been required by this to draw
up complicated schemes for Luther's doctrine, and so at the
hands of the Epigones the theology of Luther has assumed the
same complicated and unimpressive form which the Pauline
doctrine has received in Biblical Theology, It would appear as
if theologians alone among historians and biographers were
still unaware, that there is the most radical failure in the

196 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

endeavour to get an entire view of a great man when
the effort is made to reduce all his utterances to an artistic
unity and to spin them out to a further point of develop-
ment. From these utterances the movement must be,
not forwards, but backwards, i.e., the miscellaneous and
divers-coloured propositions must as far as possible be
simplified, and run back as far as possible into a few fundamental
thoughts. The fact that light breaks into different colours is
not to be explained from the light, but from the different media
through which it passes. In order to understand, however, the
theology of Luther, we must be guided above all by the percep-
tion, that for him the Christian doctrine was no jointed puppet,
which can be taken to pieces, and have members withdrawn or
added. The traditional theological schemes ivere dealt with rather
by Luther in view of the fact that in each of them, when properly
understood, the whole doctrine found expression. Wliether it be
the doctrine of the three-one God that is treated, or Christology,
or the doctrine of reconciliation, or of justification, or the
doctrine of sin and grace, of repentance and faith, or the doctrine
of predestination and free will, what he contemplates is the
setting forth of the whole of Christianity. Kattenbusch has
gained merited distinction from having shown and proved this
in connection with two cardinal doctrines, the Trinitarian and the
Christological(Luther'sStellungzudenoecumenischenSymbolen,
18S3). Only by keeping this observation distinctly in view can
an account of the theology of Luther be successful, so far as that
theology constituted a whole? That there were many other
things besides which Luther retained as fragments admits of no
dispute.

I. Under the doctrine of God, a double set of attributes
disclosed themselves for Luther according as God was conceived
of apart from Christ or in Christ. But each of these groups is
summed up in one single thought ; on the one hand there is the
awe-inspiring judge, with whom there can be associated nothing
but penalty ; on the other hand the gracious Father, who has
turned His heart towards us. As they are looked at in Christ,
the attributes of God's truth., justice, grace- {veritas, justitia,
1 Compare also GoUschick, Luther E1I3 Katechet, 1883.

CIJAR IV.] THE (.IIRISTJANITN' OK LUTIIEK. I97

gratia dei), etc., are all identical ; for they are all contemplated
from the point of view of the promises of God (promissiones
dei) ; but these latter have no other content than the remission
of sins (remissio peccatorum). As contemplated in Christ, God
has o?Ay one will, which is onr salvation; apart from Christ there
is no certainty at all with regard to God's will.

2. God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are objects of faith.
But God is Himself an object of faith, i.e., of hearty trust and
childlike fear, only in so far as He has revealed Himself out-
wardly and once for all among men, and continues to reveal
this revelation through His spirit in Christendom to individuals,^
A stricter unity cannot be thought of; for it is by no means
God in Himself in whom faith believes — God in Himself belongs
to the Aristotelians — it is the God revealed in Christ, and
presented to the soul through the revelation of the Holy Spirit.
For him in whom the Holy Spirit enkindles this faith there is
here no mystery and no enigma, least of all is there the contra-
diction between one and three ; in Christ, " the mirror of the
Father's heart," he apprehends God Himself, and he knows that
it is God, that is, the Holy Spirit, who has enkindled such faith
and creates the comfort of sin forgiven.

3. Thus also the first article of the Symbol is for Luther a
statement of the whole of Christianity; for when man sets his
trust on God as his gracious Creator, Preserver, and Father, and
in no state of need has any doubt of Him, he can attain to this
only because he looks to Christ, and is in the position of one
whose sins are forgiven ; but if he is able to do this he is a
perfect Christian.^

4. Of Jesvs Christ faith knows, that " all the tyrants and
jailers are now driven off, and in their .stead has come Jesus
Christ, a Lord of life, of righteousness, of all that is good and
blessed, and He has snatched us poor, lost men from the jaw.s
of hell, has won us, has delivered us, and restored us to the
Father's grace and favour, and has taken us, as His possession,
under His guardianship and protection, so that He now rules us

' Compare the two passages quoted above, p. l84and p. i8g from Ihe Larger Catechism.
"See the splendid exposilion of the 1st Article in the Larger Catechism and in
the "Kurze Form ilcr 10 Gebote, des (jlaii!>Ens imd des Valer-Unsers" (1522).

by His righteousness, wisdom, power, life, and blessedness."'
That is the knowledge of Jesus Christ which alone answers to
faith, and which faith alone can obtain ; for Christ can be
known only from His " office " and " benefactions " ; in these
benefactions the real and true faith in Christ is embraced.-
These benefactions are summed up in the atonement which He
has made, i.e., in the forgiveness of sins which He has procured
by His life and death : " He was truly born, suffered, and died,
that He might reconcile the Father to us, and be a sacrifice, not
only for original guilt, but also for all actual sins of men." *
This is the chief part of the Gospel, indeed it is the Goi^pel
itself, to which faith directs itself The whole person of Jesus
falls for faith simply within this view, all deeds of Jesus and all
His words ; Luther indeed would rather do without the former
than the latter, for the former need no exposition. The heart
can only forget its dread of God, the terrible Judge, when it
looks on Christ, whose death guarantees that the law and justice
of God have been satisfied, and in whose word and lineaments
the gracious God Himself lays hold of us through the Holy
Spirit. Just for that reason it is certain that Christ is some-
thing more for us than merely our brother, that He is a truL-
helper, who has suffered penalty and wrath for us, and in whom
God Himself offers Himself to us, and becomes so little and
lowly, that we can lay hold of Him and enclose Him in our
heart. Where there is this knowledge, neither the deity nor the
humanity of Christ is a problem for faith ; nor is the interblend-
ing of the two a problem ; there is here rather the clearest and
most comforting certainty : God's grace is only manifest in the \
historical work of the historical Christ. On the one hand we see
in Christ, that " God has entirely emptied Himself and kept
nothing which He could have given to us " — so there is the
firmest assurance of the full deity of Christ, — on the other hand

I Larger Cutechism, II., z, p. 453,

^ See the motto from Luther's works prefixed to this vol., and M elanch than 's famous
sentence in ihe Introduction to the first edilion of his Loci ; " Hoc est Christum
CDgnoscere, beneficis, ejus cognoscere, non ejus naluras, mi

! "Vetc natus, paasuB, mortuus, ul reconciliaret nobis patreni et
lantum pro culpa otiginis, sed etiani pro omnibus actualibus hom!
Conf, of Augs. 3.

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER. 1 99

we see Him in the manger and on the cross. The two, however,
are not side by side with each other, but in the abasement faith
sees the glory. Confessing the deity of Christ could never
become doubtful for him who knew — in the sense of believing
in — no God at all save in Christ,' Loofs is right in pointing out
(Dogmen-Gcsch., 3rd ed., p. 358), that within the history of
dogma thi old religious Modalism stands neare.st to Luther's
view. The speculation about natures is here rejected by Luther
on principle. It was quite impossible for him to arrive at it

I On Luther's Christologj' compare Schullz, Lehre von der GoUheit Cliiisli (1881),
p. 182 ff. The greal lerotni which Luther effeettd, both for faith and theolof^, was
that he m3.de the historical Christ, lie saJ/pniicipk 11/ tAiiiiaw/iiiii! a/ Gad. Only by
him were Matlh. xi., 27, and I Cor. i., 21-25 ! ■'■i 4-'6 restored to a commanding
position, the effect of which, however, was that the roots of the dogmatic Christianity
were severed. " We must neither worship nor seek after any God save the God who
is the Father of onr Lord Jesus Christ ; in this true God Christ also is included."
" Anything that one imagines of God apart from Christ is only useless thinking and
vain idolatry." " When one loses Christ, all faiths (of the Pope, the Jews, the
Turks, the common rabble) become one faith (see passages in Theod. Hamack's
Luther's Theolc^e, L, p. 371 ff.). "Begin by applying thy skili and study to
Christ, there also let them continue fixed, and if thine own thoughts or reason or
some one else guide and direct thee otherwise, only close thine eyes and say : I must
and will know of no other God, save in my Lord Christ. . , . See, there open there
to me my Father's heart, will, and work, and I know Him, and this no one will ever
see ot come upon in any other way, however high he soars, speculaiiiig with his own
clever and subtle thoughts. . . . For, as I have always said, that is the only way of
transacting with God, that one make no self-prumpted approach ; and the true stair
or bridge by which one may pass to heaven, that one remain below here and keep
close to this flesh and bluod, ay, to the words and letters that proceed from His mouth,
by which in the tenderest way he leads us up to the Father, so that we find and feel
no wrath or dreadful form, hut pure comfort and joy and peace." On John 17, 3 :
"See how Christ in this saying interblends and unites knowledge of Himself and
knowledge of the Father, so that it is only through and in Christ that we know the
h'ather. For I have often said that, and will still go on saying it, so that even when
1 am dead people may think over it and guard against all teachers whom the devil
rides an! guides, who beghi at the highest point to teath and preach about God, taking
no notice vthatevir of Christ, \MS,t as up to this time there has been in the great schools
a speculating and playing with His works above in Heaven, with the view of knowing
what He Is, and thinks, and does by Himself." In a similar way Melanchthon in the
first edition of his Loci (1521) set aside the entire Scholastic doctrine of God. But
how much time elapsed before this doctrine returned ? Even in Proleslantiscn there
again came to be a speculating like that of " the Pope, the Jews, Turks, and the
common rabble," a laying down with Origein two sources of divine revelation, the
book of nature and the book of Holy Scripture, and ai> introduction of Christ into
both books as a section.

2CO HISTORY OF DOG^fA. [CHAP. IV.

from his view of saving faith ; for when this was the starting
point, neither did the deity of Christ come within his horizon as
" nature," nor did the oneness of Christ admit of speculation as
to the conjunction ; for conjunction presupposes in some way a
being separate. — It is further nnanifest that Luther's Christology
closes the line of development represented by Tcrtullian,
Augustine, Bernard, the Franciscan Mystics.

5. Of sin faith knows, that it consists supremely and there-
fore solely in the want of fear, love and trust towards God,
Just on that account all men before Christ and apart from
Christ are sinners, because (through their guilt certainly) they do
not know God, or at least know Him only as an awful Judge-
do not know Him therefore as He desires to be known. No
one before Luther took so serious a view of sin as he did, the
reason being that he measured it by faith, that is to say, took a
religious estimate of it, and did not let himself be disturbed in
this view by looking upon sins as the graduated manifestations
of immorality, or upon virtues as the manifold forms of worldly
morality. He alone seized again on the sense of the Pauline
proposition, that whatsoever is not of faith is sin. Thus also
the opposition between sin and holiness was first strictly reduced
again by Luther to the other opposition — that namely between
guilt and forgiveness. The state of the natural man is guilt,
which expresses itself in dread of God, the state of the new man
is forgiveness of guilt, which shows itself in confidence in God.
As understood by Luther the contrast, however, can be viewed
still more simply : to have no God, and to have a God. The sin
in all sin and the guilt in all guilt is godlessriess in the strictest
sense of the word, ?>., the unbelief which is not able to trust
God.^ And on the other hand the highest among all forms of

1 Besides the defedus of faith Luther and the Augs. Conf. menlion also con-
cupiscence, but they constantly accentuate in this the pride of the heart, as also the
Inst of the world, and the selfishness of the spirit. Luther broke with the iJea that
had become acclimatised from Augustine's time — that sexual pleasure is the original
sin, and the toot of all sin, and thereby corrected the error that had led to the most
disgusting explanations and to the most dangerous training of the imagination.
These sentences — which appeared already in the 1st ed if— I feel I must adhere to,
notwithstanding Dilthey's objection (AtT:hiv f. Gesch. der Philos., Vol. V., p. 359),
(hat Lnlher and Melanchthon's doctrine of original sin {see Art. 2 of Conf. of Augs.)
lays equal stress on concupiscence, ancl so is not substantially different ftam the

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER. 20I

goodness is confidence in God as a true helper. Inasmuch as
man is created to and for God, the " original righteousness "
(" justitia originalis ") is accordingly fear, love and trust, nothing
more and nothing else, and the fall, which had its source in
unbelief, had the entire !oss of original righteousness as its con-
sequence.' Hence the original righteousness is by no means a
supernatural gift in the sense that it was added to man as being
mature, independent within his limitations and for certain ends
perfect ; but it is the essential condition, under which and in
which alone man can reach the goal set before him by his
Creator. As in the beginning only God himself could produce
this original righteousness by His revelation, so also He alone
can restore it ; but that has taken place through Chi^ist, who
has cancelled guilt and brought to men the God of grace.

6. What Luther wrought out here under the scheme of sin
and ^cancelling of sin he expressed also in his doctrines of
predestinalion and the enslaved ■mill. As contrasted with the
medieval view his fundamental thought is this — that God has
not merely brought into existence objective provisions for
salvation, to which there must then correspond a subjective line
of action that is in a way independent, and of which the evidence
is given in penitence and faith, but that He bestows faith and
creates penitence. The media:val theology — even tliat which
took the most severely strict view of the thought of predestina-
tion — is known to have always relaxed this thought precisely in
the really religious aspect of it ; for all the definitions, both of
the Thomists and of the Scotists, issue in the end in a more or

AugUitinian-Medireval doctiine in so far as by it also oriEina] sin and stsual enjoy-
ment are brought inlo union. For ihis opinion a number of passages written by the
Reformers can certainly he appealed lo— what mediiesal doctrines connected *ith the
doctrine of solvation do not find a support in their writings? — yet the view that the
physical impulses are in themselves sinful was certainly transcended by them, not
only in principle, but in countless different connections. That Luther's view of
" faith " and " unbelief" cancels this view, even Dilthey will not deny, as 1 do not
deny that the historical theory of original sin had necessarily the effect of always
leading the theologians back again in a disastrous way to concupiscence as the cog-
nisable <ehicle of sin.

1 Hence original sin is really the chief sin, i.e., this is true of unbelief. Just on
that account it is to be believed that Christ cancels al! sin, because he takes away the
guilt lying in original sin.

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAl'. I

less refined syjiergism ; or rather conversely, the divine agency
appears only as an " aid " ("auxilium "). But for Luther tlie
religious aspect continued to hold its central significance; it is
God, that is to say, who works faith, who plants the good tree
and nourishes it. That which when viewed from without
appears to be something subjective, and is therefore regarded
by reason a.s an achievement of man, appeared to him, from his
keeping in view the real experience as he had passed through
it, as the really objective thing, produced within him from
without. This is perhaps what gives to Luther his highest
significance in theology, and on this account his work on the
enslaved will (" De servo arbitrio ") is in one respect his greatest.
That significance lies in this, that lie completely broke with the idea
that the religious experience is composed of historic and sacramental
■ acts, which God performs and holds in readiness, and of sub-
jective acts, which somehow are an affair of man's. So to
describe this experience meant for him the depriving it of its
force and the handing it over to reason ; for the latter can then
"objectively" register, describe, and reckon upon the divine
acts, and in the same way it can then fix and prescribe what is
to be done by man. That this was the falsely renowned art
of the Schoolmen, the doctrine of reason and of the devil, was
perceived by Luther, and therein consists his greatness ;
theologian. He put an end both to the arrogant
theology of "objective" calculations and to the morality that
gave itself out as religion, but that in its deepest basis was
godless. He did away with the severing of the objective from
tiie subjective, of the divine factor from the human factor in the
experience of faith. In this way he produced a complete con-
fusion in religion for every one who approaches it from without,
because such an one must relinquish all thinking if he is forbidden
to take into consideration at one time tlte acts of God and at
another time the doings of man ; but it was just in tliis way that
he made religion clear to the believer, and restored to it the view
in zvhich the Christian believer has at the first, and continues tff
have, his experience of it. Nothing is more instructive here than
the drawing a comparison between Luther's work mentioned
above, "De servo arbitrio," and the treatise to which it is the

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTIIEK. 205

reply, the work of Erasmus. What a fineness of judgment,
what a power to look all around, what an earnest morality does
the author of the latter develop ! One is justified in regarding
his diatribe as the crown of his literary work ; but it is an
entirely worldly, at bottom an irreligious treatise. Luther, on
the other hand, takes his stand on the fundamental fact of
Christian experience. It is here we have the root of his doctrine
of predestination as the expression for the sole efficiency of the
grace of God. Certainly Luther had not yet recognised in all
its consequences the significance of the perception that the
objective revelation and the subjective appropriation must not
be separated, that accordingly the awakening of faith itself
belongs to revelation ; ' otherwise it would have become clear
to him that this perception nullified all the foregoing scholastic
efforts of theology, and hence forbade also conclusions such as
he drew in his speculations regarding original sin, and in his
book " De servo arbitrio." For when Luther here reflects on
what the "hidden God" ("dens absconditus ") is, as dis-
tinguished Jrom the God who is "preached" (" praedicatus"),
when he admits a double will in God, and so on, that is only a
proof that he has not yet rid himself of the bad practice of the
.scholastic understanding of treating theological perceptions
as philosophical doctrines, which one may place under any
major premises he pleases, and combine in any way he may
choose. Yet with his doctrines of predestination and enslaved
will he in the main clearly and distinctly discarded metaphysic
and psychology as the basis on which Christian knowledge is
to be built up. That " hidden God," moreover, who was left to
him by Nominalism he allowed to become always vaguer, or he
came to identify Him with that dread judge whom the natural
man must recognise in God. While in this way he gave back
religion to religion, he also vindicated the independence of the
knowledge reached through faith, by setting up the experience
of the revelation of God in the heart, i.e., the production of faith,

1 See Herrmann's beautiful expositions in the book mentioned alxive ; it is an
important circiitnslnnce [lial Lulher himself spoke of the revelation ihrougli the lloiy
.Spirit (Larger Catechism, p. 460 : " neque de Christn quidquam scire possemus, si

204 HISTORV" OK DOGMA. [CllAI'. IV.

as a noli me tangere, to the Jews a stumbling-block and to the
Greeks foolishness. But who understood him ! In his know-
ledge there was seen the old predestination doctrine and nothing
else, as a specially intractable doctrine standing side by side
with other doctrines, and soon there began in Protestantism
the huckstering and higgling over this, Melanchthon leading
the way.

"J. But Luther was also able to describe the whole of
Christianity under the scheme of law and gospel; nay, at a very
early date he embodied his new knowledge in this scheme.
Receiving an impulse here from Augustine, but passing beyond
him (for the sovereign place of faith [fides] in the gospel is not
fully recognised by Augustiae), he attached himself so closely
to Paul that it does not seem necessary to state his view in
detail ; nor did he shrink even from the Pauline paradoxes, nay
he strengthened them ; the law is given that it may be violated.
Yet by this he only meant to say, that neither the command-
ments, nor even the pleasantesi doch-ines, can be of help to man ;
they rather increase his godlessness. Help can come only from
^person — here the person is Jesus Christ. That was what was
in Luther's mind, when he set down "gospel," "promises of
God," etc, as = Christ. For him the contrast between law and
gospel was not merely the contrast between a commandment
that worketh death and a promise ; in the last resort it was
rather the contrast between a burdensome hu.sk and the thing
itself. If the gospel as it is preached were only an announcement
or a making salvation possible, according to Luther it too would
be a " law " ; but it is neither the one nor the other, but some-
thing much higher, because it is quite incommensurable with
law; iltat is to say, it is redemption itself. Where Luther, un-
disturbed by any shibboleth, gave expression to what was really
his own Christianity, he never reflected on the gospel " in itself"
— that was for him a Jewish or heathenish reflection, similar to
the reflection on God " in Himself," atonement " in itself," faith
"in itself" — but he kept in view the gospel together with its
effect, and only in this effect was it for him the gospel : the God
in the heart recovered in the person of Christ, faith. To this
faith there applies : " in an easy, compendious way the law is

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITV OF LUTHER. 20S

fulfilled by faith "{" facili compendio per fidem lex impletur").
Just on that account he was able to teach Christendom again
what a fundamental distinction there is in respect of principle
between law and gospel : it was he who first gave stability to
the work of Augustine here also, as with regard to pre-
destination and the bondage of the will. Hence it was, too,
that he could never have any doubt that it is only the Christian
overmastered by the gospel who can have true penitence and
that the law produces no true penitence: terror and dread
(attritio, or contritio passiva, i.e. a sorrow wrung from one,
brought about through being crushed from without) the law
causes (unless it be hypocrisy) ; but should the gospel not in-
tervene, these take the direction only of unbelief and despair,
that is, of the greatest ungodliness. If in not a few passages in
Luther's works that appears to be otherwise, then it is in part
only apparently so — for the gospel lakes even the law into its
service (see the Smaller Catechism; the gospel expounds the
Saw, and holds to view also its punitive operation ; in this sense
— that is, as embraced within the gospel — it is not cancelled),''

1 Nay, it is necessary for the Christian tQ measure himself by the law, and to see
daily that tluough acquaintance viilh it the old man is being destroyed. This opera-
tion of the law precedes also the posnitenlia evangelica and can therefore be described
as " the fundamental experience in connectiott with ihe rise of faith." Yet the God
who cheera Ihe broken heart must nevertheless take a part even here ; tor otherwise
the effect of pcenitentia legalis would necessarily be either hypocrisy or despair.
Loofs (Dogmengesch., 3rd ed., p. 355): "For him who knows Christ's cross,
contemplation of the law and despair of self are (accoriling lo Lulher] salutary ;,
' opus alieniim dei (j'.t., the occidere lege) ioducit tandem opus ejus proprium, dam
facit peccatorem, ut justum facial ; ' mortificatio et vivicatio lun parallel with each
other in the Christian life; the Christian lakes upon himself Ihe ' conleri lege'
('contritio pasaiva') as a cross, so that in Ihis way contritio passiva and contritio
activa merge into each other here. In accordance with his own experiences, Lulhvr
preiuppobet that every one, before he understands grace, experiences in himself, and
must experience, the ' conteri lege,' the ' nlienum opus dei ' ; but from this condition
of mere 'conteri lege' he with all his energy struggles forth." In these words,
according to my opinion, Luther's normal attitude to the question of lepentance (the
efficacy for thisof gospel and law) is correctly indicated ; see the controversy between
Lipsius (Luther's L.ehre v. d. Busse, iSga) and Herrmann (Die Busse der cvang.
Christen, in the Zlschr, f. Theol. u. K., iSgt, Part l). Lipsius has convinced me
that in following Ritschl I have not done justice to Luther's doctrine of the law in
its bearing on repentance. Hut I cannot agree with all that he aela forth, and chiefly
for this reason, that— howevtr clearly we can see what Luther ultimately wished with

206

mSTORV OK DOGMA,

[chap. IV..

and it is in part due to the p.-tdagogic reflection produced by
the very justifiable doubt as to whether the man of common
and coarse type is to be regarded as a Christian or not (see
below). The Epigones soon came to quarrel about the law, as
they quarrelled about free will, because the main principle of the
new view was no longer recognised by them. Luther himself
■did not find his proper position in these quarrels ; for he always
showed a very remarkable want of resource when controversies
arose within the circle of Protestantism, and in such cases he
■was always inclined to regard the most conservative view as the
right one. A "third use of the law" (usus tertius legis) cannot
be attributed to him ; for the positive relations of believers to
God are, like their whole course of conduct, to be determined
by the gospel.

8. But the whole of Christianity also presents itself to view,
finally, m justification. Just because it is usual to see Luther's
importance exclusively in this — that he formulated the doctrine
of justification, it is of service to point out on the other hand
that Luther's Christianity can be described while this term is
not made use of What he understood by justification has

his diatinction between law and gospel — ihe Reformer's expositions are not found
when we go inLo detail to be hannonious. Hence on the one hand it is left to the
subjective judgment to select those that may be held as the most important ; on the
other hand Luther himself has in certain connections of thought given special
prominence to ideas that secure for the law a special, independent importance in
perpetuum. But is it not a duty to represent the Reformer in accordance with his
most original thought?

' This, however, means something else than what is conveyed in Dillhey's statement
(Aichiv. f. Gesch. d. Philos., Vol. VI., p. 377 ff.) : "I deny out and out that the
heart of the Reformation religion is to be found In the restoration of the Pauline
doctrine of JQStificaTion by faith." Yet a mutual understanding is not impossible,
for in the fine analysis of the Christian system of the Reformers with which Dilthey
has followed up his statement (I.e., see also Preuss. Jahrb., Vol. 75, Part I., p. 44 ff.),
the decisive importance of the " breaking up" by Luther of the "egoistic motives,"
which had still a place even in the highe-st and most refined Catholic religion, is
brought out as distinctly as the emancipation from the hierarchy, and as the funda-
mental feature of Lutheran faith, as trust in God and the firm consciousness of
"being taken up, guarded, and hidden in the unseen connection of things." If
Dilthey introduces these and other momenta into the history of the general spiritual,
.and especially Germanic, development, this is entirely correct ; neither is any obji
■to be made even from the point of view of the history of dogma to the repeated
reference to the fact, that what is in question is not merely a rejuveni

^peated ■

of the ■

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER. 20?

indeed found expression everywhere in what has preceded here,
not as a single doctrine, but as the fundamental form of the
Christian's state. It was with the view of describing this state
that Luther most frequently made use of the Pauline expression ;
if any other view is taken, there will be a failure to understand
Luther's meaning. What is new is not that in a scrupulous and
scholastic way Luther separated the justificatioand sanctificatio,
and regarded the former as a forensic act (actus forensis), taking
place once for all;' that is the wisdom of the Epigones, who were
always great in distinctions; — what is new lies in this, "(l) that
with few exceptions the receiving of life (vivificatio) or
justification Qustificatio) is seen ultimately in nothing but in the
being redeemed from sin without merit (sine merito redimi de
peccatis), in the non -imputation of sin (non imputari peccatum)
and the imputation of righteousness (reputari justitiam alicui),
(2) that in connection herewith ^race (gratia) is identified with
mercy (misericord ia), with grace for the remission of sins (gratia
in remissionem peccatorum), or with truth (veritas), i.e. the
fulfilment of the promise (impletio promissi) in the historical
work of Christ, and (3) that in consequence hereof faith (fides)
appears — though a distinct terminology is still wanting— as
trust in God's truth (veritas) and in Christ's work for us: faith =
beUeving in God = the wisdom of the cross of Christ {i.e. the
understanding that the Son of God was incarnated and crucified
and raised again for our salvation) — being well-pleasing to God
in Christ (fides = credere deo = sapientia crucis Christi [scil.
intellegere, quod filius dei est incarnatus et crucifixus et

primitive Chrislian, Pauline scagp, but a pussing beyond this Co sn nrganisation and
piaclical application of the inwardly expeiienced in human society and its order,
such as primitive Chtistianity liad not known. But on the other hand, the Pauline
doctrine of justification is not to be restricted to Rom, III, and IV. There must be
added Rom. VIII. and Gal. V., 6— VI. lo. But if that addition is made, then the
most decisive momenta which Diltbey singles out for commendation in the higher
religion of Luther, as being new stages of the development, are to be found already
in Paul — though certainly their further conclusions are not unfolded,

■ See on this the fine studies of Loofs and Eichhorn (Stud, u, Kritik., 1884, or
1887) i they deal with the moulding of the thought of juatiflcalion in the Apology,
but they are not less applicable 10 Luther's doctrine. The observations made on the
other side by Franck (Neue Kirchl, Zeitschr., 1892, p. S46) do not touch the main
subject.

Z08 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

suscitatiis propter noslram sahiten{\ = A&o satisfacere in Chn'sto),
On these three equations, as the regulators of religious self-
appraisement, Luther's piety rests."' Under the scheme of
justification Luther, according'Iy, gives to the following thoughts
pre-eminently a special clearness and the most distinct ex-
pression: (i) that for us all attributes of God combine in the
attribute of His righteousness, with which He makes us righteous
(which is therefore at the same time grace, truth, mercy and
holiness), (2) that it is God who works and not man, (3} that our
whole relation to God rests on the " for Christ's sake " (" propter
Christum"); for God's righteousness unto salvation (justitia
ad salutem) is His action through the gospel, i.e. through
Christ; it is the righteousness of Christ (justitia Christi), in
which He beholds us and which he imputes to us (" imputes
the righteousness of Christ "[" imputare justitiam Christi "] or
''for the sake of Christ" ["propter Christum"]); (4) that the
righteousness of God (justitia dci), as it ajjpears in the gospel,
effects both things — death and life— that is to say, judgment
and death of the old man, and the awakening of the new ;
(S) that justification takes place through faith— that is, through
the producing of faith: the latter is not so much the human
answer to a divine acting, it is the means, rather, by which God
works out justification and carries it home; (6) that justifica-
tion is nothing else than the forgiveness of guilt, and that in
this forgiveness everything is included — that is to say, life and
blessedness — because there are in all only two states — that of
conscious guilt and misery and that of gracious standing and
blessedness ; (7) that justification is therefore not the beginning,
but is at the same time beginning, middle and end ; for as it has
existence only in faith, it is subject to the law of faith, which
every day makes a beginning, and is therefore every day new,
because it must always lay hold anew of the gracious remission
(gratuita remissio), but is also the full and entire faith, if in
sincere penitence it finds comfort in its God ; (8) that justifica-
tion is both in one — namely, a being righteous and a becoming
righteous ; it is the former, inasmuch as by the faith which
attains forgiveness man is really righteous before God ; it is the
' Loofs, Dogmergesch., 3rd ed., p. 34S IT.

CHAP. IV.] THE CHKISTIANITV OF LUTHER. 209

I latter, inasmuch as the faith that has become certain of its God,

can alone bring forth good works. In this sense faith is un-
doubtedly an act of initiation, i.e., the beginning of the work of
the Holy Spirit on the soul ; yet that is not to be taken as
meaning that in man inwardly, or by a new process, something
has to be added to faith ; faith, rather, is the beginning in the
same sense in which the good tree is the beginning of good
fruit. Luther never thought of the relationship otherwise when
his thoughts were clear to his own mind, or rather he connected
faith with good works still more closely than is represented by
the metaphor here employed ; for to him faith itself was already
regeneration (regeneratio), the latter not being merely a con-
sequence of the former, so that there at once takes commence-
ment along with faith that practical life also and that unresting
joyous activity, in which one seeks to serve God as a happy
child ("good works perform themselves unbidden"). If
" fearing, loving, and trusting" are not merely results of faith,
but faith itself, therefore to some, extent the fruit is already
implied in and given with the tree. Luther never thought of a
f^ith that is not already in itself regeneration (regeneratio),
quickening (vivicatio) and therefore good work (bonum opus) ;
but on the other hand — in ail doubt, in all uncertainty and des-
|)ondency, refuge is found, not in the thought of the faith which
is regeneration, but only in the faith which is "nothing but
faith" ("nil nisi fides"); in other words: "we are justified by
faith alone" (" justificamur sola fide"), i.e., only by the faith
which lays hold on the forgiveness of sins. That continued to
be the chief matter for Luther ; for only this faith secures
certainty of salvation. This expresses the ultimate and highest
thing which Luther wished to say m describing the state of the
Christian as a state of justification, and which, under no other
scheme, he could make the subject of such impressive preach-
ing: man in his poverty, stricken in conscience and therefore
godless, can only find rest in what is highest, in possessing God
Himself — that was known by Augustine also- — but he finds this
rest only when he is absolutely certain of God, and he become.-^
I certain of God only through faith — both these things were
i unknown to Augustine. What enabled Luther to carry beyond

2,10 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAR I\ -

themselves and bring to finality all the Reform movements of
the Middle Ages, was that he had found what they sought, and
was able to express what he experienced : t/ie equivalence of
certainty of salvation and faith} No other faith, however, than
the faith that fixes itself on the historic Christ can win the
strength of sure faith.^ Thus Luther again made the funda- |
mental thoughts in the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the I
Romans the rock-basis of religion. Nowhere, therefore, can we
see more distinctly than here his opposition to Catholic piety
also. The ultimate question of this piety was always, how is
the sinful man made capable of doing good works in order to
become acceptable to God ? and to this it gave long-winded
replies, constructing at the same time an immense apparatus,
made up of the sufferings of Christ, sacraments, the rennnants of
human virtues, faith, and love. Here Luther had no question at
■all to ask, but described powerfully and joyfully what the
experience consisted in through which the grace of God had
conducted him. This experience was for him the certainty
that in faith in Jesus Christ he had a gracious God. He knew
that all that succeeded with him, all real life and blessedness, so
far as he possessed it, was the outflow of that certainty ; he
knew that certainty as the source of hi« .s a net ifi cation and his
good works. Thereby for him the whole question as to the
relation of faith to good works was in its essence solved.^ That

1 In this way Lulhet transcended mysticism ; cf. ] leiing, Die Mystik Luther's im
Zusammenhang seiner Theologie, 1879.

ajnslification bases itself, in Luther's view, on saliMfaclion, i.e., on the exchange
between Christ and the sinner. See Th. Harnack, l,c, II., pp. 288-404.

3 On the reklion of faith aad works see especially Thieme's book referred to above
<i8g5). Besides the view of faith which is determinacive and by which Luther's
thinkingisdirected— the view that sees iTi ilthatwhich produces good works nnbidden,
tliere are to be found io Luther other views also, which do not, however, claim lo
have equal importance. There is this view in particular — thai good works, i.e.,
moral conduct, represent thankfulness to God, who has awakened faith in us.
Thankfulness is conceived of here, not as requital, but as the conduct that corres-
ponds with the gift, i.e., as the longing thai asserls itself for fuller realisation of
fellowship with God, so that this scheme really runs back into the first-namEd, only
that the free action comes to view here prominently as joyfiil recognition of duty lo
; fulfilled. On ihe question as lo what scope belongs (according to Luther) in
.oral conduct to the contemplation of one's neighbour as a direct end, or, in other
Olds, lo love for nne's ndjjlibour, see Thieme, I.e., p. 20, 298, Hernnlinn, Verkehr

CHAP. IV.] THE CHRISTIANITY OF LUTHER. 211

there must be progress in holiness, conflict and struggle, that
also he knew ; but when he grew weary in good works, he broke
into the prayer, Increase my faith ! The exclusive relation of
forgiveness of sins, faith and assurance of salvation is the first
and last word of Luther's Christianity. Where the knowledge
of God is, there is also life and blessedness — that is the old con-
fession of the Church, But what the knowledge of God is that
is here meant — on this there was no clearness of thought:
future knowledge, philosophical knowledge, intuitive knowledge,
mystic- sacramental enjoyment of God, knowledge through the
Logos — all these mistaken ways were adopted, and as no
certainty of God was found, no blessedness was found. Luther
did not seek a knowledge, it was given in his Christian standing,
God in Christ; "where forgiveness of sins is, there is life and
blessedness.'" But in this faith he also acquired religious
independence and freedom over against all that was not God ; for
only independence and freedom is life. The freedom which his
opponents had left in a place to which it does not at all belong
he did away with ; but as a substitute for the noxious remnant
which he discarded, he reaped the freedom which Paul glories

des Chrislcn, 3rd ed., p. 259 ff, H
task of showing ho-w neighbourly It
how faith ilscif guthers up its own
neighbour, and how there dare be
adheres to a relative independence of

inann remarks that Luther did not fulfil the
springs from faith (fellowship with God), i.e.,

npulses in the strenuous resolve to love one's
moral motives thai transcend this. Thieme
k and intercourse with the world.

The moDistic religious attitude, for which Herrmann is an advocate, will, hawevei,
only stand the dogmatic test, if the homogeneous slructare (faith working hy love)
can be built up also from the side of neighbourly love ; for, according to the gospel
of Jesus Christ, love of one's neighbour is not subordinated to love lo God, but is —
owing to the double position of man— the given ivkole under the point of view of
time, while the love to God is the whole under the point of view of eternity. But
even ia Luther there are passages enough to be discovered, in which ministering love
.ippears as the supernatural character of man in the same sense as trust in God's
providence and patience.

■ Loofe, I.e., 2nd ed., p. 230: "With the Greeks sin fell into the background
behind 09opd. Kuin and redemption were physically conceived of ; Augustine and
Catholicism attached greater weight to sin, but behind sin stood concupiscentia, in
the main conceived of physically, behind righteousness the hyper-physical infusio
dileclionis, etc. ; hence Catholicism culminates in ascetic morality and mysticism ;
for Luther there stands behind sin (in the ethical sense} sin in the religious sense, i.e.,
unbelief, behind the being righteous the fundamental religious virtue, i.e., faith;
Luther rc-discovered Christianity as religion,"

212 HISTORY Of DOC;MA. [CHAi'. IV.

in at the close of the eighth chapter of the Romans. With
their "free will " the former had become slaves 6f the Church
and of men; in his confession of "unfree will," i.e., in his
certainty of justification by faith, Luther found freedom and
courage to dfefy an entire world. That which is called the in-
dividualism of Protestantism, and to which a high value is
justly attached, has its root here: the Christian is through his
God an independent being, who is in need of nothing, and
neither stands under bondage to laws nor is in dependence on
men. He is a priest before God, taken charge of by no priest,
and a king over the world.'

(3) Luther's Criticism of the Ruling Ecclesiastical Tradition
and of Dognia.

We shall place together here in brief form the most important
critical propositions of Luther, that it may be seen to what
extent the Reformer diverged from the ruling tradition.- In

iCorapaie here the Treatise, " De libertite Christiana."

' It is well known that the habit increased with him of describing himself and his
adherents as the olil Church, his opponents as the apostates and as the "new
Church"; see "Wider Hans Worst" (Vol. 36, p. 12): " But how if I have proved
that we have held hy the true old Cliarch, nay, that wt are the true old CAurcA :
you, on the other band, have become renegades ^ojk bi, that is fiom the old Church,
and have set up a new Church in opposition to the old Church." Luther now
enumerates the points in respect of which he and his adherents have maintained the
old, and those which his opponents have abandoned ; {1) we have ihe old baptism,
(2) we have the Euchaiist as Christ instituted it and as the Apostles and primitive
Cbiistendom observed il, (3) we have the keys, as Christ appointed them, with the view
of binding and loosing sins that are committed against God's commandments (no
"New Keys," no commingling with political power), (4) our dischai^eof Iheoffice of
preaching and our proclaiming the Word of God are marked by purity and fulness,
(5) we have the Apostolic Symbol, the old faith of the old Church, (t>) we have the
Lord's Prayer and sing the Psalms with the old Church, (7) like those of old we pay
respect to the secular authorities and yield them cordial obedience, (S) we praise and
magnify the estate of marriage, as the ancient Church did, (9) we are persecuted as
il was, (10) like it, we requite the shedd ing of blood, not with the shedding of blood,
but with patience. From these ten points Luther makes it clear to himself that his
reforination was the restoration of the ancient Church. On the other hand he shows
that the papists are the wm, false Church; for (1) they do not adhere lo the primitive
baptism, but teach rather that baptism is lost through sin, and that then one must

CHAP. IV.] LUT][EK'S (

what way, and in what order he arrived at the separate proposi-
tions has already been frequently described. The process, too,
is at all the principal points so obvious, and is at the same time
so plainly the result of what he suvf positively, that it seems un-
necessary here to enter more minutely into the history of the
development of the negative theses. But with a view to under-
standing his criticism three things must be premised : first, that
the Reformer — differing in this from X\v\T\g\i— always passed
from the centre to the circumference, i.e., from faith to institu-
tion ; second, that down to the year 1521 his polemic against
the Church was step by step forced upon him by his opponents ;
third, that his negative criticism was directed, not against
doctrines in themselves, but against such doctrines as had a
pernicious influence upon praciice — taking the word in the most
comprehensive sense. On this account there would not be
much difficulty in describing the whole Reformation of Luther
under the heading, " Reform of divine service " (see above,
p. rgi).

1. Luther's judgment has been reproduced by Melanchthon
in the well-known sentence of the Apology, IV. (IL, beginning) :

make satislaction with his own works, (2) Chey have brought in ihe indulgence as a
kind of new baptism, (3) in the same sense they use holy water and salt, (4) and (5) in
the same sense pilgrimages and brolherhoods, (6) ihey have introduced many detest-
able and scandalous innovations into the Eucharist, made it a " priests' sacrifice,"
divided it, severed it from faitli. changed it by means of the masses into heathen
idolatry and a lumber market (Grem[)elmarkt), (7) they have made " New Keys,"
which have to do with outward works (eating, drinking, etc) and with political
jurisdiction, (8) they have introdnced new doctrines, human doctrine and lies (after
the probation of the Eucharist that is the second abominadon], (9) over the Church,
which is a spiritual Kingdom, (hey have placed a secular head (that is the third
specially wicked abomination), (10) they have set up the worship of saints, "so that
in ihis matter their Church has come to be in no way different from the Churches
of the heathen, who worship Jupiter, Juno, Venus, Diana, and olher dead ones ; "
you have a pantheon like the heathen, (11} they slander the estate of marriage, (12)
ihey have introduced the novelty of ruling and carrying on war with the secular sword.
Here Luther breaks off, but adds (p. 13) ; "There are still many more new matters."
The attitude which he here assumes— of contending that the Reformation related
merely to the innovations of the papists— it was by no means possible for him strictly
(o maintain, nor did he desire to do so. He knows very well, though he has not
ecledly clear to himself, thai the mistaken development of the Church

had begun much earlier.

214 HISTORY OK DOt;MA. [CHAP. IV.

" Seeing that those on the other side* understand neither what
remission of sins is, nor what faith is, nor what grace is, nor
what righteousness is, they miserably corrupt the topic of
justification, and obscure the glory and benefits of Christ,
and rob pious consciences of the consolaticns presented to them
in Christ."^ This means a denial of the truth, not of one part
only of the ruling doctrine of salvation, but of that doctrine itself ;
and everyparticularpoint of tha.t doctrine, indeed, was assailed by
Luther : (i) that doctrine of God which, instead of dealing with
God only as He is in Christ, calculated in a " sophistical " way
about His attributes, and speculated upon His will — the entire
" metaphysical " doctrine of God was often enough denounced
and ridiculed by him as a product of blind reason ;^ (2) the
Christology, in so far as one was content to speculate about the
two natures, the incarnation, the virgin birth, etc., instead of
fixing attention on the office, the commission, and so, on the
benefits of Christ ;* (3) the doctrine of the truth, righteousnes';,
and grace of God, inasmuch as the comfort furnished by these
themes was not recognised, from their being restricted by reason
through a regard to law and to what man does, and deprived of
their evangelical significance; (4) the doctrines of sin and of
free will, because a Pelagian self-righteousness lay hidden behind
them ; (5) the doctrines of justification and faith, because they
did not at all touch the point that is of sole importance- — the
liaving a God — there being set up in place of this, uncertainty
and human desert, (6) the doctrine of good works, because, first,
it showed no knowledge of what good works are, and therefore
no truly good works were ever performed, and because, second,

I That is

the SchalRstic theologiajis, whom Lulher for a long time distinguished
kind of sect who had overmssteied the

from the official Church and regarded
Church: "The Aristotelicans."

' " Adversarii quum neque quid remissio peccalorum, ne
gratia neque quid justilia ail, inCelligant, misere contamina
et obscuranL gloriam et beneficia Christi et eripiunl piis
Christo consolationes."

' See H. Schullz, Luther's I.ehre von der Melliode u
Anschauuneen Uber Golt (Ztschr. f. K.-Gesch. IV., t). Compaj

' Compare the motto placed at llie beginning of this vol.

ue quid fides neque quid
L locum de justificalione

d, Grenzen d, doEtnat.

CHAP. IV.] LUTHER'S CRITICISM OF DOGMA. 215

these "good works" were put in the place that belongs
exclusively to faith.

7: In closest connection with this Luther attacked Ihe whole
Catholic (not only the medieval) idea! of Christian perfection.
In combating monachism, asceticism, special performances, etc.,
he combated that "foremost lie" ("tt/jwtoi/ i^ei/^of") of the
moralistic-Pelagian view, that there is something else that can
have value before God than Himself, Just on that account he
abolished to its last remnants the notion of a double morality,
and represented the faith (" vivificatio et sanctificatio ") that
finds comfort in forgiveness of sins to be the Christian perfec-
tion. It was just this, however, that enabled him also to rise
above the eschatological temper of the old ideal of perfection ;
for it was involved in the nature of that ideal that it was only
beyond this earth — in heaven — that it could be fully realised.
During this present state of existence the angelic life can only
consist in first bej^innings. This kind of eschalology Luther
broke with and put an end to, without surrendering the longing
for the life that comes through vision. It was a new conception
of blessedness which he set up in opposition to his opponents;
in thinking of blessedness they thought of an enjoyment experi-
enced by sanctified senses and sanctified powers of knowledge;
he thought of the comfort experienced by a pacified conscience.
They knew only how to speak of it as something fragmentary ;
for at the most they had only experienced it for short periods ;
he could bear witness of it as a child does of the love of his
father by which he knows himself to be wrapped round. In
spite of all the flood of feeling that overwhelmed them, they
continued poor and unstable and distressed ; he saw in all that
only the old hell by which the sinner is pursued, and, convinced
of this, he demolished monachism, asceticism, and everything in
the shape of merit. As at every other point, so also in connec-
tion with the ideal of blessedness, he exterminated the subtle
dualism which runs through the whole Catholic view of
Christianity.

From these attacks on the doctrine of salvation and on
monastic perfection there necessarily followed, for him, his
attacks on the sacraments, on priestism and churchism and the

2l6

HISTORY OK DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV,

ecclesiastical worship of God ; but besides this also, his attacks
on the formal authorities of Catholicism and of the Catholic
doctrine.

3. Luther not merely denied that the number of the Sacra-
ments was seven — that was the matter of least importance — he
cut the root of the whole Catholic notion of the Sacraments by
his victorious assertion of the three following propositions :
(1) that the Sacraments are of service for the forgiveness of sins
and for nothing else, (2) that they do not "become efficacious
in their being celebrated, but in their being believed in " ("non
implentur dum fiunt, sed dum creduntur"), (3) that they are a
peculiar form of the saving Word of God {ai the self- realising
promise of God [promissio del]), and therefore have their power
from the historic Christ In consequence of this view Luther
reduced the Sacraments to two (three) — nay, at bottom, to
one only, namely, the Word of God. He showed that even the
most enlightened Church Fathers had only vague ideas about
this matter of primary importance — "Augustine has much to
say about Sacrament, but little about Word " — and that by the
Schoolmen the subject was completely obscured. He directs
himself both against the magic of the "opus opi;ratum " and
gainst the mistaken transference of the saving effect of the
Sacrament into the human disposition ; he puts an end both to
the mystic vagueness that accompanies a revelling in Sacraments,
and to the scandalously godless calculation of their market
value; he annihilates the convenient and yet so meaningless
thought of portions of grace, and places in the Sacrament the
living Christ, who, as the Christ preached (Christus praedicatus),
vanquishes the old man and awakens the new; he reduces to
ruins nothing less than the whole system, and goes back again
to the one, simple, t;reat act, constantly repeating itself in every
Christian life, of the production of faith through the offer of
grace. It was above everything else by setting aside the
Catholic doctrine of the Sacraments, that Luther abolished in
principle the error originating in the earliest times, that what
the Christian religion concerns itself with is a good, which, how-
ever lofty it may be, is stil! cbjective. That doctrine had its
root in the fundamental notion that religion is the remedy for

man's finitude — in the sense that it deifies his nature. This
thought was no doubt already shaken by Augustine's doctrine,
but only shaken. As the fore-runner of Luther. Augustine had
already made the Sacraments serviceable to an inner process ;
they were to produce, increase, and perfect righteousness. But
as with this end before him he contemplated them from the
stand-point of "infused grace" t" infused love"), he did not
carry his view beyond the point of regarding them as insinintents
of various kinds, in which only a special power resides, and
which in the last resort are not what they represent. The
Church afterwards followed him upon this track. By mould-
ing itself into the Sacrament-Church, it really deprived the
Sacrament of its worth ; for it i-; not that which it seems to be ;
it merely makes that possible which it seems to contain ; but in
order that this possible thing may become actual, something
else must be added. For Luther, on the other hand, the
Sacraments are rcalSy only the "visible word" {" verbum
visibile"), but the word which is strong and mighty, because in
it God Himself works upon us and transacts with us. In the
last analysis it is a contrariety in the view of grace that comes
out with special distinctness here. According to the Catholic
view, grace is the power that is applied and infused through the
Sacraments, which, on condition of the co-operation of free will,
enables man to fulfil the law of God and to acquire the merits
that are requisite for salvation. But according to Luther grace
is the Fatherly disposition of God, calling guilty man for Christ's
sake to Himself and receiving iiim by winning his trust through
the presentation to him of the picture of Christ. What has
Sacrament to mean here?

That the particular Sacraments which Luther retained should
have to receive a new treatment in accordance with this was a
matter of course. How he desired to have Baptism and the
Eucharist regarded he has indicated in tlie four propositions
about the former,^ and in the parallel propositions about the

1 " Baptism is ihe water vitweii in tlie liglit of Gml'a command and united with
God's Wonl." " It works forgiveness of sins." "This is not done, certainly, by
the watei, but by (he Word of God, which is with and 1>eeide the w&ter, and by the
faith wliich trusis in such Word of God in Lhe water." " Baptism iiics.»s tliat the

2l8 HhSTOKV Of DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

latter, which he intrcKluced into the Smaller Catechism. What
lies beyond these propositions, or does not agree with them,
will be dealt with in the next section.' Most deeply incisive
is seen to be his conception of repentance — it is nothing else
than the daily return to baptism (reditus ad baptismum) — as
compared with the Catholic Sacrament of penance, the centre
and heart of the mediiuval Church. First of all, for the inner
penitent temper, the confession of sin, and the sati-.faction, he
substituted repentance alone; not as if he had simply abolished
confession (confessio) and " .satisfactio operis" — to the
former he attached great value, and even for the latter he could
allow a certain title,- but nothing else must be placed side by
side with sincere repentance ; for only to it belongs value before
God, because He creates it through faith ; secondly, true
repentance was strictly conceived of by him as contrition
(contritio), i.e., as the crushed feeling about sin awakened by
faith, or, more correctly, as hatred of sin ; that which the law
can work is at most attrition (attritio), but this attrition of the
Schoolmen is, if there is nothing beyond it, of no value, because
it is not wrought by God, and therefore leads to hell. He thus
brought back repentance from the region of morality and of
arbitrary ecclesiastical order into the sphere of religion : " against
thee only have I sinned " ; thirdly, he made a demand for
constancy of penitent disposition, as being the fundamental form
of genuine Christian Ufe in general, and thus declared penance
performed before the priest to be a special instance of what

old Adam must be drowned in us day by day through daily sorrow and repentance
. . . and thai there must daily come forth and arise a new man." The same in the
case of the Eucharist.

I Let it only be remarked here that Luther's original funiiamental principle with
regard to the Eucharist— see his treatise De captiv. Babyl. (Erl. Ed. Opp. var. ai^,
v., p. 50) — which Iaj3 the basis for his doctrine of the Sacraments, is enpressed in
these terms : "Jam missa quanto vicinior et similior prima: omnium missa;, quam
Christus in ccena fecit, tanto Christ ianior."

9 In the sense in which it was understood by his opponents aatisfactio was entirely
discarded by Luther; see Erlang. Ed., Vol. a6, p. 17 ("Wider Hans Worst"):
"And Ibis thing, satisfactio, is the beginning and origin, the door and entrance to all
abominations in the papacy; just as in the Church baptism is the beginning and
entrance to all gtaces and to the forgiveness of sins." See also p. 55 ; " For one
knows now that satisfaction is nothing."

CHAi'. IV.] LUTHER'S CRITICISM OF DOGMA. 2(9

shouid be a perpetual habit and practice ; fourthly, he therewUh
cancelled the necessity for priestly co-operation, whether in
connection with confession (confessio) — auricular confession as
confession ofa/Zsins is impossible, as self-revelation to a brother
it is salutary — or in connection with absolution : one Christian
can and should forgive another his sin, and thereby, as Luther
boldly expresses it. become to him a Christ ; fifthly, he laid the
strongest emphasis on contrition haviny combined with it
absolution ; it is only as belonging to each other that these two
exist, and nothing must disturb or interfere with their union ;
but they belong to each other because they are both included
in faith (fides) ; in faith, however, confession does not, strictly
speaking, consist, to say nothing of "satisfaction " ; sixthly, he
removed all abuses that had become connected with the
Sacrament ; by relating forgiveness exclusively to the cancelling
of eternal guilt, he made an end of the calculations of reason, so
dangerous to souls, with regard to mortal sins and venial sins,
eternal guilt and temporal guilt, eternal penalties and temporal
penalties, and in this way also delivered the Sacrament from
being mixed up with the regard to temporal profits which had
been the necessary result of reflection upon temporal penalties ;
by restricting- the effect of absolution to eternal guilt, he was led,
in harmony with his insight into the nature of sin, to deal with
this last much more earnestly than the Schoolmen did ; the
Schoolmen wrought with venial sin and with attrition, and
showed great skill in reducing sins in general to the former,
and in making attrition acceptable to God ; in this matter he
knew only of his infinite guilt and his God; seventhly, along
with those abuses he expressly set aside the subtly refined
doctrines of purgatory, of the applied merit of saints and of
indulgences. Between the contrasted opposites of guilt and
forgiveness, hell and heaven, there is nothing intermediate, hence
there is no purgatory; merits of saints are a Pelagian invention,
and so they can be placed to no one's credit ; just for that
reason indulgences are a foolish fancy, while the practice of them
is a subversion of Christ's honour and of penitence ; ' but if

is well known that on the 31st 0«., 1517, LuIIkt had not yet compleii
in of indulgences.

220 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAl'. IV.

they merely relate to arbitrary church ordinances, they do not
belong at all to religion. — By his overturning the Catholic
Sacrament of penance and substituting for it the thought of
justification by faith. Luther abandoned the old Church and
came under the necessity of building a new one.

4. From the stand-pwint of faith he likewise overthrew the
whole hierarchical and priestly Church System. His negative
criticism in this department does not suffer from the slightest
want of clearness. Throu<jh justification by faith every
Christian is a Christian with full rights and privileges ; nothing
stands between him and his God ; the Church, again, is the
■community of believers, visible through the preaching of the
Word — nothing else. To thts Church the "Keys "are given,
Le., the application of the divine Word ; they are given to it,
because they are given to faith. These propositions have the
effect of excluding both a spiritual class to whom believers are
bound, and the jurisdictional power of the Church. But this
strikes at the heart, not merely of the mediseval Church, but of
the ancient Church as well, at least from the time of lrena;us.
And with what inexorable energy Luther drew the conclusions
here, including even the inference that the Pope is Antichrist ;
what sport he could make with the " grease, tar and butter"
with which the Church anointed its sorcerers and hypocrites; in
what language he could describe the Church Order, the
•canonical law, the power of the Pope as the abomination of
desolation in the holy place ! If it is asked what the power was
that here brought the words of wrath to his lips, the answer
must be that it was the knowledge the confession of which
is felt to be so hard to-day even by keen-sighted Protestant
theologians — the knowledge that the power of faith is as much
enfeebled by added burdens as by false doctrine Why should
it not be possible that there should exist in Christendom a Pope,
.a priesthood, an episcopal constitution, a jurisdictional power of
the Church extending over all realms? There is nothing that
forbids such an order, if it is serviceable, and there is more than
one cogent reason recommending it. But to demand this order
Ujw the name of the gospel, or even to let it continue to appear
that it is the outcome of the gospel itself, means to impose a

CHAP. IV.] LUTIlEk'S CUITICISM OF DOGMA. 221

burden on religion that crushes it, Luther felt and saw that-
The bishops, the counciLs and even the Pope he would willingly
have allowed to continue, or at least would have tolerated, if
they had accepted the gospel; to what states of things would
not this man of inward freedom have readily adjusted himself,
if the pure Word of God was taught! But they appealed on
behalf of themselves and their practices to the Word of God,
and declared they were as surely to be found there as the for-
giveness of sins ; and so he made havoc of them, and pilloried
them as men who sought for all possible things, only not for
the honour of God and Christ.

S. Not less radical was his attitude towards the ecclesiastical
worship of God. Here also he broke down the tradition, not
only of the mediaeval but also of the ancient Church, as this is
traceable by us back to the second century. The Church's
public worship of God is for him nothing but unity in divine
worship in respect of time and place on the part of individuals.
By this proposition all the peculiar halo — simply pagan, how-
ever, in its character- — which surrounded public worship was
dissolved : the special priest and the special sacrifice were done
away with, and all value was taken from specific ecclesiastical
observances participation in which is saving and essential.
Not as if Luther failed to recognise the importance of fellow-
ship — yet even on this matter he betrays uncertainty here and
there ^—; how highly he estimated preaching and divine service
(ministerium diviuum) ! But public divine service can have no
oiher aim, no other course, no other means, than the divine
service of the individual has; for God treats with us simply
through the Word, which is not exclusively attached to par-
ticular persons, and He requires from us no other service than
the faith that unfolds itself in praise and thanksgiving, humility
and penitence, firm trust in God's help amidst all need, therefore
also in fidelity in one's calling and in prayer. What is contem-
plated therefore in public divine service can be in no way
different from this: the building vp of faith through proclama-
tion of the divine Word and the offering in prayer of the common

' It frequenUy seems »s if public divine service were only a provisinn foi traininf;
tbe imiierfecti and this does not in every case merely seem lo be the meaning.

222 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CIIAP. IV.

sacrifici of praise. In so far, however, as it is the Christian lite
that is at bottom the true service of God, public worship always
maintains in relation to this the character merely of something
particular. That Luther took up towards the Catholic mass an
attitude of strong repugnance and repudiated the monstrous
irregularities that turned divine service into a means for securing
profane profit, is denied by no one. That he here set aside
numberless abuses is a manifest fact ; but the seemingly
conservative attitude he assumed in making his corrections in
the Manual for Mass, and his declinature to undertake an entire
reconstruction of divine service, led many "Lutherans " in the
sixteenth century, as well as in the nineteenth, to fall back on
extremely objectionable views as to a specific {r€ix%\QV&) value
of public worship, as to the purpose of worship and its means.
How un-Lutheran that is — because it is possible and necessary
here to correct Luther by Luther himself— and how the
evangelical idea of the worship of God differs toto coelo from
the Catholic, has been excellently shown quite recently. The
■question is of special importance within the lines of the history
of dogma, because Luther's attitude towards worship has the
most exact parallel in his attitude towards dogma.'

' See Gollschick, Luther's Anschauungen vom christlicheo GottesdieQs! und seine
ihatsachliche Reform desselben (1SS7) ; compare Ihe discussion on p. 3, where at
every point one might substitute for Old Lutheran Liturgy Old Lutheran dogmatic ;
" We should less require , , , to he concerned did we find that the old Lutheran
Ijiurgy wasaueven 1 el atively genuine product of the peculiar spirit of the Reformation,
the spirit which we cannot throw off without losing our very selves. That could
only be the case, however, if Luther had derived the highest posilive, the so to speak
creative principle of his new liturgicn,! ordinances from the new views that had been
acquired by him of Christianity as a whole. But in point of fact Luther attached
himself to the order of the Roman Mass, and reshaped this only in certain particulars,
on the one hand excluding what was directly contrary to Ihe gospel, on the other hand
introducing certain points of detail. — Besides, he had so little interest in litui|[y, was
so little guided by the thought of an inner, vital law controlling the arrangement of
divine 5er\ice, that in connection with nenrly every pan of the Catholic legacy he
makes the remark, that this is of little importance, and the tnatter might be equally
well deait with otherwise. Under these circumstances we do not actually under-
estimate the merit Luther acquired in connection even with reform of divine worship,
when we do nut conceal from ourselves the necessity for our attempting a really new
amslnutiati in this field, taking the principles lying in Luther's Reformation view
as our guide. But as in other fields so here also the matter stands thin^lAat Luther
himself has already developed the really evangelical principles for the recvnstruclien

CHAV. IV.] LUTHER'S CRITICISM OF DOGMA. 223

6, Luther annihilated the formal, outward authorities for
faith, which had been set up by Catholicism. That here like-
wise he not merely attacked media;val institutions, but set aside
the old Catholic doctrine, is beyond dispifte. As this has
already been dealt with above (p. 23 ff.), let us only sum up here
what is most essential. Catholicism, whose mode of view
always led it in the first instance to separate into parts the
religious experience, that it might then submit it to be dealt
with by the understanding, had also introduced here the dis-
tinction between the matter itself and the authority. This
distinction corresponded with its method of drawing distinctions
generally, a method which proceeded by differentiating at one
time between necessity, possibility, and reality, at another
time between form and matter, at another time between
effect and saving effect All these extremely confusing
arts of reason are lacking in Luther's original theses. Neither
is there to be laid on him the weight of responsibility for
distinguishing between a formal and a material principle ; ' for
the matter was for him the authority, and the authority the
matter. Hut the matter is the Christ of history as preached,
the Word of God. From this point he gained the insight and
courage to protest against the formal authorities of Catholicism
as against commandments of men. Thereby, however, he
threw overboard the whole system of Catholicism, as it had
been elaborated from the days of IrenEcus ; for the inviolability
of this system rests simply on the formal authorities ; the faith
that Fathers and Schoolmen appealed to was obedience to the
Church doctrine, an obedience that is certain of what it holds,
because those authorities are represented as inviolable. But

from his fuitdamenlal vino gf religion, and to a muck grtalir exUat^ toe, than can be
diiarptred from his a^ls as a Reformer and from the writings that htar vpoa tkete."
The suie proof of this is given in the dissertaiion itself.

'See Rilschl in Ihe Zeilschr. ftlr K.-Gesch. I,, p. 397 ff. Following on this article
there is an incressing tendency to discontinue rec^^ising in Luther the distinction
belweenafonnaland a material principle. Thus it is even said in Thonaasius-Seebeig,
11., p. 345 ; "The principle of Prolestantism is failh in Christ as the only Saviour,
the faith that justifies, that is witnessed lo by Holy Scripture, that is wrought by the
Word of God (hy the Holy Spirit)." But in what follows there is again a denial in
some measure of this perception in favour of the Scripture principle.

234 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

Luther protested against a// these authorities, the infallibility of
the Church, of the Pope, the Councils, and the Church Fathers,
both with regard to Christian doctrine and with regard to
exposition of Scripture, against the guarantee which the con-
stitution of the Church was alleged to furnish for truth, and
against every doctrinal formulation of the past as such — on the
ground that in every case they themselves required to be
proved. But — when so bravely carrying on his battle against
the authority of the Councils — Luther took up at the same time
an adverse attitude towards the infallibility of Scripture; and
how could he do otherwise ? If only that is authority which is
also matter — the position of the Christian as both bound and
free postulated this — how could there be authority where the
matter does not distinctly appear, or where even the opposite
of it appears? The content of a person who gives himself to
be our own, never can be coincident with a written word how-
ever clear and certain it may be. Thus Luther necessarily had
to distinguish even between Word of God and Holy Scripture.
It is true, certainly, that a book which represents itself as the
sure word of Christ and as apostolic testimony, makes in the
highest sense the claim to be regarded as the Word of God.
But ye: Luther refused to be dictated to and to have his mouth
stopped even by the apostolical — and that exactly at the most
trying time, when the formal authority of the letter seemed to
be most of all required by him. What limitations and losses
he subsequently imposed upon himself is a question to be dealt
with afterwards ; but there can be no doubt that the position
Luther took up towards the New Testament in his " Prefaces,"
and even in .special discussions elsewhere, was the correct one,
i.e., the position corresponding to his faith, and that by his
attitude towards its formal authorities Catholicism was
abolished by him from its historical beginnings.

7. Finally, there is still a very important point to be
adverted to. In very many passages Luther has Indicated
with sufficient distinctness, that he merely conceded to his theo-
logical opponents the theological terminology, and made use of it
himself merely on account of traditional familiarity with it, and
because the employment of incorrect words was not necessarily of

CHAR IV.] LUTHER'S CRITICISM OF DOGMA. 225

evil. He so expressed himself with regard to the most import-
ant terms. First of all he had an objection to all the different
descriptions of justification : to justify, to be regenerated, to
sanctify, to quicken, righteousness, to impute (justificare,
regenerari, sanctificare, vivificare, justitia, imputare), etc., etc. ;
he felt very much that the mere number of the terms was a
serious burden upon his conception, and that no single word
completely answered to his view. Secondly, in a similar way
he objected to the word satisfaction (satisfactio) in every sense ;
as used by his opponents he will only let it pass. Thirdly, he
stumbled at the term "Church" (ecclesia); for it obscured or
confused what should simply be called Christian community,
gathering, or — still better— a holy Christendom. Fourthly, he
observed very clearly the objectionableness of the word
"Sacrament"; what he would have liked most would have
been to see that the use of it was entirely avoided, and that for
the ambiguous formula " Word and Sacrament," there was
substituted the Word alone, or that if the term Sacrament was
retained there should be a speaking of one Sacrament and
several signs} Fifthly, he himself declared such a term as
ofioovTto? to be unallowable in the strict sense, because it
represents a bad state of things when such words are invented
in the Christian system of faith : " we must indulge the Fathers
in the use of it . . . but if my soul hates the word homousios
and I prefer not to use it, I shall not be a heretic ; for who will
compel me to use it, provided that I hold the thing which was
defined in the Council by means of the Scriptures ? although
the Arians had wrong views with regard to the faith, they were
nevertheless very right in this . . . that they required that no
profane and novel word should be allowed to be introduced
into the rules of faith." ^ In like manner he objected to and

' Erlang Ed. Opp. var. arg. V. , p. 21 : " lanliim tria sacramenla ponenda . . .
quamquam, si usu scripturie loqui veliro, non nisi unun

" Indulgendum est patribus . . . quod si odit anima mea vocera homousion et
im ca uti, non ero hajtelicus ; (juis eniro me cogeL uti, niodo rem teneam qu^ in
icilio per scripturas defirita est? eta Aiiani male seiiseiunt in fi<ie, hac tamen
\mi . . . exegetunt, ne vocem profanam et novani in regulis fidei statui licetet.

326

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV.

rather avoided the terms " Dreifdltigkeit," " Dreiheit," " unltas,"
" trinitas" (threcfoldtiess, threeness, oneness, trinity). Yet, as
is proved by the words quoted above, there is this difference
observable here — that he regarded the terminologies of tlie
medimval theology as 7nisleadiiig and false, the terminologies on
tlie other hand of tlie theology of the ancient Church as merely
useless and cold. But from still another side he objected most
earnestly to all the results of theological labour that had been
handed down from the days of the Apologists ; and here in still
greater degree than in his censure of particular conceptions his
divergence from the old dogma found expression, namely, in
that distinguishing between " for himself (itselQ " and " for us,'
which is so frequently to be found in Luther. Over and over
again, and on all occasions, the definitions given by the old
dogmatic of God and Christ, of the will and attributes of God,
■of the natures in Christ, of the history of Christ, etc, are set
aside with the remark : " that He is for himself," in order that
his new view, which is for him the chief matter, nay, which con-
stitutes the whole, may then be introduced under the formula
" that He is for us," or simply " for us." " Christ is not called
Christ because He has two natures. What concern have I in
that ? But he bears this glorious and comforting title from the
office and work which He' has taken upon Him . . . that He is
bj' nature man and God, that He has for Himself"'^ In this
" for himself" and " for us " the new theology of Luther, and at
the same time his conservative tendency find clearest expres-
sion. Theology is not the analysis and description of God and
of the divine acts from the standpoint of reason as occupying
an independent position over against God, but it is the con-
fession on the part of faith of its own experience, that is, of
revelation. This, however, puts an end to the old theology with
its metaphysic and its rash ingenuity.' But if Luther now

Erlang. Ed., 0pp. var. aig. V., p. 505 sij. See also the Augsburg CoufuLalion
{Art. l), whose authors obseirved veiy clearly what was herelical in these words.

1 Erlang. Ed. Ausg. XXXV., p. 207 f,

»See Theod. Harnack, Luthei^s Theologie, I., p. 83 : "Yet revelalion guarantees
a true and Raving knowledge 'of the essential Godhead in itself.' N^y, Chiistioni
alone are able to speak of this and have this divine wisdom. It is true, no doubt,
that levelalion lays down dcHnite conditions for theology and imposes limila upon i^

GHAP. IV,] I.UTHEK'-S CRITICISM OF DOGMA. 227

nevertheless allows those old doctrines to remain under the
terms ".God in Himself," "the hidden God," "the hidden will of
God," ikey no longer remain as what are properly speaking doc-
trines of faith. About this no doubt can arise. But that they
— were not entirely rejected by him has its cause on the one hand
in his believing they were found in Scripture, and on the other
hand in his failure to think out the problems in a comprehensive
and systematic way. With this we shall have to deal in the
following section.

In view of what has been set forth in the last two paragraphs
with regard to the Christianity of 1-uther and his criticism of the
ecclesiastical dogma, it cannot but be held that in Luther's
Reformation the old dogmatic Christianity was discarded and a
new evangelical view substituted /or it. The Reformation was
really an issue of the history of dogma. The positive and
negative elements of Luther's Christian doctrine are most
intimately connected; the latter are the effect, the former the
cause. If he still concurs with this or that formulation of the
ancient or the mediaeval Church, then, with what we have cnn-
sidered before us, that is partly apparent only, and it is partly a
free concurrence, which can never have had its cause in an a
priori surrender to tradition. The forma! authorities of dogma /
were swept away; thereby dogma itself, i.e., the inviolable system
of doctrine established by the Holy Spirit, was abolished. But it I
is by no means the case that dogma re-emerges in the old form |
—now, however, as the content of devout faith ; there appears/
rather the pure doctrine of the Gospel {pura doctrina evangelii)!
as a new dogmatic opposed to the old ; for there was a setting^
aside of all those intellectual dividings up of the content offaithl
by which that content was separated into metaphysic, naturtj
theology, revealed doctrine, sacramental doctrine and ethic. In

but these do not consist in that arbitrary and comfortless separation between God's
essence and His revelation ; they are partly objective, implied in the content, measure
and aim of revelation itseir, and they partly relate subjectively to tbe priociple iovolved
in the object itself and to the nature and tendency of theological knowledge as thereby
conditioned. "

22S HISTOiiV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

tbis way the revision extended itself back beyond the second
century of the history of the Church, and it was at all points a
radical one. The history of dogrna, -which, had its beginning in
the age of the Apologists, nay, of the Apostolic Fathers, was
proughC to an end.

Thereliy the work of Augustine was finally brought to com-
pletion; for, as we have shown in our second Book, this great
man, by going back to PauHnism, began the work of breaking
down and powerfully re-casting the ruling dogmatic tradition
and of restoring theology to faith. But the sceptic stopped
short before the formal authorities of Catholicism, and the
Neoplatonists would not cease revelling in the All-One ; besides,
Augustine knew not yet how to enter into sure possession of the
power given through faith in God as the Father of Jesus Christ.
Thus his Church received from him, along with a problem, a
complex and confused inheritance — the old dogma— and,
running parallel with this, a new inward piety, which moved in
thoughts quite different from dogma. This attitude is revealed
at the verj' beginning of the Middle Ages by Alcuin, and from
the time of Bernard onwards, Augustinianism, augmented in
some degree by valuable elements, continued to exercise its
influence. Certainly Luther stands in many respects closer to
an IreuEeus and an Athanasius than to the theologians of the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ; but in many respects he is
further removed from the former than from the latter, and this
is a clear evidence that the inner development of Christianity in
the Middle Ages was by no means merely retrograde or entirely
mistaken. If Luther had to break even with a Tauler or a
Bernard, how much more was a break necessary with Augustine
and Iren^us ! The Reformation is the issue of the history of
dogma because it brings about this issue in the line of the
origination of it within the history of piety by Augustine, and of
its subsequent preparation during a period of a thousand years.
It set up the evangelical faith in place of dogma, this being done by
its cancelling- the dualism of dogmatic Christianity and practical
Christian self-criticism and life-conduct.

But what it placed at the centre of practical Christian self-
criticism and life-conduct was just faith itself and its certainty.

CHAP. IV.] LUTHER'S CRITIcrSM OF DOGMA. 229

Thereby it gave to the theoretic element — if one may so
describe the sure faith in revelation, i.e., in the God who mani-
fests Himself in Christ — a direct importance for piety such as
was never known by raediieval theology, " Let this be the sum
of the matter: our love is ready to die for you, but to touch
faith means to touch the pupil of our eye." ^ Hence nothing is
more incorrect than the widely prevalent opinion that the
cancelling of dogmatic Christianity by Luther was equivalent to
a neutralising of all "faith that is believed" ("fides qua;
creditur") : all that is required is simply pious feeling, A more
foolish misunderstanding of Luther's Reformation cannot be
conceived of; for precisely the opposite rather is true of it: it
only restored its sovereign right to faith, and thereby to the doctrine
of faith — in the sense of its being nothing but the doctrine of
Christ — after the uncertainties of the Middle Ages, which had
reached tlieir highest fioint at the beginning of the sixteenth century;
and to the horror of all Humanists, Churchmen, Franciscans, and
Illuminists set up theology, i.e., the true theology 0/ the cross
{theologia crucis), as the decisive power in the Church, Dogma,
which always taught merely how religion is possible, and there-
fore could not at all stand at the centre of piety, was detached
from that proclamation of faith which itself produces and builds
up faith, and therefore claims as its right the sovereign position
in religioa Luther passed back from the Middle Ages to the
ancient Church, in so far as he again reduced the immense
material forming the system of Christian faith to Christology,
But he distinguished himself from the ancient Church in this,
that he undertook so to shape faith in the revelation in Christ
that the revelation should appear not merely as the condition of
our salvation, but — objectively and subjectively — as the sole
efficient factor in it.

But if this describes the revolution of things, then it can be
very easily understood how the great task, the fulfilment of
which was contemplated, could not be carried out in a thoroughly
strict way by Luther himself A superhuman spirit would have
been required in order here to think out and arrange everything

' " Sumina esCo : charilas nostra pro vobis mori parata est, fides vero si tangitur,
tangitur pupilU oculi nostri."

330

HISTOKV OF DOGMA

[CIIAP. IV.

correctly; for there were two tasks in view, which almost
seemed contradictory, though this was not actually true of
them : to place the importance of faith as the content nf revela-
tion in the centre, in contradistinction to all opinion and doing,
and thus to bring to the front the suppressed theoretic element,
and yet on the other hand not simply to adopt that faith which
the past had developed, but to exhiijit it rather in the form in
which it is life and creates life, is practice, but is religious
practice. From the greatness of this problem there is also to be
explained the survival in Luther's theology of those elements
which confuse it and have necessarily shaken the conclusion
that the Reformation is the issue of the history of dogma.

(4) T/ie Catholic Elements retained by Luther along with and
within his Christianity}

Whether the Catholic elements contained in Luther's
Christianity be few or many, so much at least is certain from
what has been already brought to view — namely, that they
belong certainly to the "whole Luther," but not to the "whole
Christianity" of Luther. Following in the line of Neander
Ritschl,^ and many others, Loofs too expresses this opinion,*
"So far as the history of dogma is concerned, the Lutheran
Reformation would have completed itself otherwise than it

1 Against the misunderstanding that my crilidsm nf Luthei in the following section
is unhistoiical and over-acute I am not able to piotect tnyielf. I know as well ag my
opponents that for Luther's consdousness his faith and his theology formed a unity,
and that the greater part of what is represented here as limitation in Lulher's doctrine
was the necessary result of the historical position he assumed and of Ihe way in which
he set ahout his gieat tast. But by our seeing this we are not forbidden, if the "entire
Lulher " is set up as a law of failh for the Evangelical Church, to show what there
was in the sum of his conceptions that was simply derived from the history of the
times or was traditional. It must also be taken into consideration Ihal he clung to a
negative attitude towaids certain conclusions deducible from his own religious
principles, and towards perceptions that already existed or were making their
appearance in his age. But here also the question for history is not what ought to
have been, but what was.

' See above p. 27.

' Dogmengesch., 3rd ed., p. 369.

CHAl'. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 23I

ultimately did, if ihe conclusions that follow from Luther's
fundamental thoughts had been established by him in their
entirety and by a thorough-going comparison with the whole
tradition. The fragments of the old that remained restricted
even for I .uther himself the validity of the new thoughts, and, in
the case of those who came later, impoverished them." The
question as to whether between the years 1519 and (about) 1523
Luther did not take a step of advance that had the promise in
itofmore thorough reforms, has as a rule been answered negatively
by the most recent students of Luther, after H.Lang' and
others had in an incautious and an untenable way answered it
in the affirmative. Yet in my opinion the negative answer can
only be given with great reservations.^ What is in question
according to my judgment, as was remarked above (p. 169), is
not so much whether there were two periods in the reforming
activity of Luther, as rather whether there was a great episode
in this work of his during which he was lifted above his own
limitations. Yet this point need not be further discussed here.
In this connection it falls to us in the first instance to discover
the grounds that made it possible for Luther to retain so much
of the old, nay, to retain even the old Catholic dogma itself,
along with the new, and to interweave the one with the other.
In aiming at this we can find a point of departure in our dis-
cussions above, p. i63 ff. We shall then have to state and
illustrate briefly the most important groups of the old dogma
doctrines to be found in Luther.

I. I. Luther took his stand on the side offailh as opposed to
every kind of work, on the side of the doctrine of the gospel
(doctrina evangehi) as opposed to the performances and pro-
cesses which were represented as making man righteous. Hence
he stood in danger of adopting or approving any kind of ex-
pression of faith, if only it appeared free from law and
performance, work and process (see the proof above p. 177 f).
Into this danger he fell. Accordingly confusion entered into
his conception of the Church also. His conception of the

1 M.L., em relig. Characterbild, 1870.

' I am pleased to observe from indicalions in Weingarten's Zcillafelii und Uebei-
blicke, 3id ed., pp. 167-170, ihat he holds a. similar opinion.

232 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

Church (fellowship in faith, fellowship in pure doctrine) became
as ambiguous as his conception of the doctrine of the gospel
(doctrina evangelii).

3. Luther believed he was contending only against the abuses
and errors of the Mediaeval Church. He declared, no doubt, not
infrequently that he was not satisfied with the "dear Fathers,"
and that they had all gone astray ;^ yet he was not clear-sighted
enough to say to himself that if the Church Fathers were in
error, their decrees at the Councils could not possibly contain
the whole truth. In no way, it is true, did he feel himself any
longer externally bound by' these decrees, nay, we can see brilliant
flashes of incisive criticism, ^.^. in his treatise on Councils and
Churches; yet these continued on the whole without effect.
He always fell back again upon the view that the wretched Pope
was alone to blame for all the evil, and that all the mischief,
therefore, was connected with the Middle Ages only. Thus
from this side his prepossession in favour of the faith-formula
of the Ancient Church — on the ground that they did not take
to do with works and law — was only further strengthened ;
indeed there was exercising its influence here, unconsciously to
himself, a remnant of the idea that the empirical Church is
authority.

3. Luther knew too little of the history of the Ancient Church
and of ancient dogma to be really able to criticise them. No
doubt, when all comes to be put together that formed a subject
of careful study for him,* we shall be astonished at the amount
he knew ; yet he certainly could not know more that his century
knew, and there were many who were his superiors in Patristic
studies. He never entered deeply into the spirit of the Church
Fathers ; on the other hand an abstract criticism was at all
times quite remote from him ; under these circumstances, there-
fore, there remained for him only a conservative attitude. This
attitude Luther really definitely renounced only when he saw
the Fathers following the paths of Pelagius.*

' See the quotation given in Vol. II., p. 7, note.

*The wish here express -il has recently been fulfilled in an excellent way by Ibe om-
piehensive and thorough investigation by K. ScMfer, Luther als Kirchenhistoriker
(Giiiersloh, 1897).

s I must as=ume from p. 3 of. Scliafer's work just referred to Ibat he regards htm-

CHAF. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 233

4. Luther always includes himself and what he undertook
within the one Church which he alone knew, within the Catholic
Church (as he understood it).^ He declared that this Church
itself gave him the title to be a Reformer. That was right, if it
was right that the empirical Church is only the Church so far
as it is the fellowship of faith ; but it was wrong, in so far as the
Catholic Church was already something quite different — namely
a State resting upon definite holy statutes. This Catholic
Church, however, was viewed by Luther as a temporary, though
already very old malformation, which could possess no rights
whatever. So he believed that he could remain in the old
Church, nay, that — though it might be only with a few friends —
he was himself the old, true Church. This remarkable view,
which is to be explained from the idealism of faith, made it
possible for Luther to abandon the old Church and reduce it to
ruins, but at the same time to assert that he himself stood within
the old Church. If in holding this attitude he was so strong in
faith that it gave him no concern how large or small the number
might be who did not at the time bow the knee to Baal,- yet he
had the highest interest in its being shown that he represented the
Church that had existed from century to century. Hence there
arose the duty of proving that he stood within a historic con-
tinuity. But from what could that be more definitely proved
than from the faith-formula; of the Ancient Church, which still
retained their authority ?

5. Luther never felt strongly impelled to start from the inner-
most centre of the new view of the whole of Christianity which
he had obtained, and from thence to furnish a systematic state-
ment of ihe whole, indicating exactly what remained and what
had dropped away. He assumed a commanding air in theology,
as a child does in the home, summoning forth old and new and
always having in view merely the nearest practical end. The
correction of theoretical errors as such gave him no concern

self as having refuted the judgment indicaled above, «hich is not, however, the case.
What he brings forward to illustrate Luther's knowledge and opinions regarding
Church history was in the main linovin to me ; nothing fulluws from it that conHicts
with the view expressed in the text.
' See especially his treatises " Von den Condliis und Kirchen" and "Wider Hans

Z34

HISTORV OK DOGMA.

[chap. [V.

whatever; he had no longing whatever for the clearnes.s of a
well-arranged .system of doctrine ; but on that account his
strength became also his weakne.ss. ^

6. Luther used the old doctrines in such a way that expression
was given to the whole of Christianity under each scheme, i.e., he
interpreted each scheme in the sense of his view of the whole of
Christianity ; what was included in the formula beyond this
gave him little trouble though he might let it retain its validity.
This peculiar attitude made it possible for him to adapt him-
self to what was very foreign. (See above p. 196.)

7. In principle Luther prepared the way for a sound historicai
exegesis ; but how far the principle was from being really
applied as yet by his century and by himself! In dealing with
particulars he is still almost everj-whcre a mediaeval exegetCj
fettered by all the prejudices of this exegesis, by the typology,,
and even, in spite of counter- working principles, by the allegor-
ism. Although in principle he demanded that the understand-
ing of Scripture should be free from the authority of ecclesiastical
tradition, he still continues himself firmly bound by this tradition.
He broke through it where justification was in question, but he
then broke through it also in connection with passages contain-
ing nothing whatever of the doctrine of justification or of faith,
or containing only something foreign to these doctrines. Under
such circumstances it cannot surprise us that he found the
doctrines of the Trinity, of the two natures, etc., in Holy-
Scripture, and even indeed in the Old Testament. But still
more must be said here — he had altogether as little understand-
ing of history as the majority of his contemporaries had.
History in the highest sense of the word was for him a closed
book. He showed no perception either of the relativity of the
historical or of the growth and progress of knowledge within
history.^ How could it be possible under such circumstances
to ascertain accurately what Scripture contains as a historic
record ? But how can a pure form of expression for the essence-

'We have here the strict parallel t
already been spoken of above, p. ail f.

* While this opinion is held, it must r
hero enabled him to see what was corre

his way of estimating wocship, which has-

CHAP. IV.]

THi; CATHOLIC ELEMENT.

235

ful-

of Christianity be expected if this condition
filled ?

The foregoing considerations have almost in every case in-
dicated limitations that were involved in the peculiar attitude
of the Reformer as a Reformer, or in the spiritual condition of
the age, and which it was therefore absolutely impossible to
transcend. But Luther's entire attitude was also determined by
limitations which by no means come under this view, but were
rather opposed to his attitude as a Reformer. These, if I see
correctly, were chiefly the following :^

S. His perception as a Reformer that the Word of God is the
foundation of faith was not so clear as to put an end entirely to
Biblicism : he continued, rather, to be involved here in a flagrant
contradiction, for while he criticised Scripture itself, he certainly
on the other hand set up the letter as the Word of God, in so
far as he adopted without test the Rabbinic-Catholic idea ot
the verbal inspiration of Holy Scripture. In many cases, no
doubt, he counterbalanced this contradictory procedure by in-
terpreting the gospel itself into the letter under consideration ;
but apart from this, he certainly as a rule allowed the particular
Bible narrative, the saying selected, whatever it might be, to
have effect, directly and literally, as the Word of God.

g. Just as little did he rise clearly above the view of the
Ancient Church and the Middle Ages in the question of the
Sacrament. It is true, certainly, that he not only took steps
towards breaking through this view, but really cancelled it by
his doctrine of the one Sacrament, the Word ; yet there still
lingered with him a hidden remnant, a real superstition
(superstitio), with regard to the Sacrament, and therefore also
with regard to the " means of grace," and this superstition had

1 1 should prefer nnt to embrace a reference under the following scheme to the great
extent to which Luther was (iominnted by course superstilion, and that, too, in all
possihie fields. I do not include within this his belief in the devil, for that belongs
to another sphere, incommensurable for my experience. But in determining his
entire altitude as the founder of a Confession, the fact cannot certainly be left out of
view that he was more superstitious than many of his contemporaries, nsy, that in
many leapecls he was as superstitious as a child. Those who constantly bring
forward the " whole Luther " are responsible fur its being necessary to mention such
things.

236

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV.

the gravest consequences for his construction of doctrine.
Though with him error and truth lie closely side by side here,
yet it cannot be denied that he gave scope for serious errors,

10. No one assailed the Noniinahstic theology more keenly
than Luther ; but his opponents forced him to theologise, and
to answer their way of putting the question. In this connection
he adopted the Nominalistic sequences of thought, and developed
them more fully as his own. But even apart from this he did
not discard the remnants of Nominalistic Scholasticism ; indeed
they reappeared in great strength, after he had passed in the
■doctrine of the Eucharist beyond the limit of what were really
his own thoughts ; but even in his doctrine of predestination
he furnished scope for the errors and over-acuteness of
Scholasticism.'

11. After Luther had come into conflict with the "Enthusiasts"
and Anabaptists, he acquired a distrust of reason, which passed
far beyond his distrust of it as a support for self-righteousness.
In many respects he really hardened himself into an attitude of
bold defiance towards reason and then yielded also to that
Catholic Spirit which worships in paradox and in contra-
diction of terms {contradictio in adjecto) the wisdom of God
and sees in them the stamp of divine truth. Like TertulUan he
could harp on the " certutn est, quia ineptum est " (" it is certain,
because it is absurd "), and take delight in the perplexities in
which the understanding finds itself involved. He never,
indeed, revelled in mystery as mystery, and in his paradoxes
there was unquestionably an element of religious power, the
secret of heroic spirits, and the secret of religion itself, which
never lets itself be made perfectly transparent. Yet no one dis-
parages reason and science with impunity, and Luther himself
had to suffer for the obscurations to which he subjected his con-
ception of faith ; still greater, however, was the penalty for
those who adhered to him, who degraded to a new Scholastic
wisdom what he had defiantly proclaimed.

1 See the dissertations that deal with Luther's Nominalism in connection with the
criticism of his docliine of predestination : Littkens, Luther's Pradestinalionslehte,
1858 i Theod. Harnack, L.'s Theologie-, I., p. "jo, and elsewhere ; Katlenhusch, L.'s
Lehre v. nofteien Willen u. v. d. Pradirst., 1875; Rilschi, Rechtf. u. Versohn.,
Vol. I.

CHAP. IV.J THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 237

Inconnectionwiththesereflectionswhatisof greatest importance
must not be passed over ; the position which the Reformation
took up towards the Anabaptists, and towards others who had
affinity with them, became most disastrous for itself and for its
subsequent history. At the present day we are passing through
a phase of descriptive history of the Reformation, which does
little in estimating the weight of this fact, because it is — for good
reasons — most immediately interested in what is of primary
importance — Luther's faith and Luther's ideal of life.' There
are in fact also many considerations that make it fully intelligible
why the Reformation simply rejected everything that was offered
to it by the " enthusiasts." Yet, however many more explana-
tions and excuses for this may be brought forward, the fact
remains unaffected thereby, that the unjust course followed by
the Reformers entailed upon them and their cause the most
serious losses. How much they might have learned from those
whom they despised, although they were forced to reject their
fundamental thoughts ! How much more decisively did many
of these men put an end to the magic of the sacraments, how
much more strictly and accurately they defined the significance
of the written Word, how much more clearly they frequently dis-
cerned the real sense of Scripture passages, advocating at the
-■■ame time a sounder exegesis, how much more courageously
they drew many conclusions regarding the doctrine of the
Trinity, Christology, etc , how much more resolutely did some

1 The Confessional is t description of history had lilLle insight iiilo, and little lov
for, the "sects"of the Reformation period. But since at the same time it did no
even cleaily discern the real imponance of the Rerotmatiun, it was necessary in the
first inalancc that this should be brought to light. That was done by Ritschl, and
his disciples follow the directions given by him. And yet even with this done there
has not been a passing beyond a very stiff, and almost indeed a narrow view of the
Reformation, and little faculty has been sbown for understanding the excellences
which the '■ Enthusiasts" unqaestioaably possessed at peripheral points — sonne of them
by no means merely at peripheral points. It must be admilted that the way in
which many dilettante " hislomns of culture" have looked at thin^js and shown their
blindness to the true nature of the Reformation could not but have a strongly repellent
effect : even such an enthusiast as Keller was unable to produce conviction. Vet
from him much certainly could have been learned, and, above all, the guiding star
for the writing of history — even the history of the Reformalion — ought not to have
been kept out of view — that real truths are never disparaged with impunity.

338

HISTOKV OF nuGMA,

[chap. IV.

of them talvc their stand for outward, as a consequence of inward
freedom ! No doubt one says even here, " timeo Danaos et dona
ferentes " (" I fear the Greeks even when they bring gifts "), and
certainly these people's presu ppositions were foreign as a rule
to the evangelical.y But no one escapes responsibility for care-
fully considering a truth, because the adversary brings it, and
lecommends it also on bad grounds. And there is something
more to be added ; not a few of the demands of the Knthusiasts
were already the product of the secular culture, science and
insight which had obtained even in the sixteenth century a cer-
tain independence. But it is a bad way of developing theological
firmness — though it has again its unshrinking advocates at the
.present day — to hold that perceptions of that kind may be simply
ignored. In many respects the Reformers fenced themselves off"
from secular culture where this touched the declarations of faith.
In this sense they were medieval, and did nothing to bring about
an understanding between revelation and reason, leaving that
■great task to a .succeeding century, which was by no means still
firmly established in evangelical faith, and was thus much worse
prepared for the solution of the problem. Even if one could
succeed in fully justifying this procedure of theirs, and in show-
ing, perhaps, that even the slightest adoption of " Enthusiast "
knowledge would have meant at that lime the death of the
Reformation, it would in no way alter the fact that the
Reformation buried under injustice and hatred many better
perceptions which the age possessed and thereby made itself
chargeable with the later crises in Protestantism. The French
Church exterminated the Huguenots and Jansenists ; it received
in place of them the Atheists and Jesuits. The German
Reformation banished the " Enthusiasts"; it received in place
of them the rationalists and modern "Positivism."

II. The consequence of holding thi.s attitude was that, so far
as Luther left to his followers a " dogmatic," there was presented
in this an extremely complicated system i not a new structure,
but a modification of the old Patristic-Scholastic structure. But
it is then apparent after what has been already explained, that
in this regard Luther gave no final expression to evangelical
Christianity, but only made a beginning.

CUAV. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 2}rj

First, there rests with him responsibility — not only with Mcl-
anchthon — for tiie inclusion within the doctrine of the goapej
(doctrina evangelii) of all theoretic elements of Christian specula-
tion which it was believed must be retained. It is true, cer-
tainly, that he never ceased regarding these elements as manifold
testimonies to what is alone important in Christian faith ; but at
the same time he undoubtedly gave to them'also an independent
valup, because he held them to be perfect testimonies, and there-
fore to be faith itself There were causes leading him to adhere
the more firmly to this course, in his opposition to the En-
thusiasts, and in the huge task of training a nation in Chris-
tianity ; and thus, without observing it, he passed over to the
view, that the Church, because it is the fellowship that is based
simply on God's revelation, and on the faith answering to it, is
just on that account fellowship in ths/rure doctrine, as including
all that is embraced in the correct theology. ' The saving faith

' Correcl and false elements lie close logecher here. If the dirislian is a fiosifive
religion, il la atmve all necessary to see clearly and mainiain purely ils content :
" Fidea si tangitur, tangitur pupilla occuli noslri." Further, what Luther ha^
wrought out in the Sermon on the 35th chap, of the ist Book of Moses (EiUng. Ed.,
VoL 34, p. 241 r.) with regard to doctrine and life is correct; "Therefore I have
often giveo the admonition, that one must be far from separating from each other life
and doctrine. The doctrine is that I believe in Christ, regard my work, sufferinp;,
and death as nothing, and serve my neighbour, and beyond this take no further
account of what I oui;ht to be. But the life is that I choose this or that course and act
accordingly. Thus there is not nearly so much dependent on life as on doctrine, so
that, although the life is not so pure, yet the doctrine can nevertheless continue pure,
and there can be patience with the life. ... It is true that we ought to live thus i
but let me live as I may, the doctrine does nat therefore become bXse . . . anything
higher I cannot preach than that one must slay the old Adam and become 11 new man.
Vou say : Yes, but it is nevertheless not done by you. Answer : I certainly ought
to do it, yes, even if God gives it to me ; but no one will ever attain to this height ;
there will still be many defects here. Therefore let Che life remain here below on
earth, raise the doctrine aloft to heaven." This seemingly objectionable explanation
at once becomes clear when we observe what Luther here introduces into the concep-
tion "doctrine"; it is the dispasiltBH corresponding to the doctrine. For that reason
the content given to doctrine here is simply "believing in Christ, regarding my own
work as nothing and serving my neighbour," or "spying the old Adam and becoming
a new man." It is obvious that this "doctrine" is nothing but religion itself; the
life, however, means the constantly defective earthly embodiment. Yet over and over
again, led astray by the word "doctrine" and by opposition to legat righteousness,
Luther simply identified with this " doctrine" ail artieuii fidei of the old tradition
(ihis being due also to the bet that he undecstood tlie art of pointing out in each of

340

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV.

which justifies (or, in other words, the right doctrine), and the
sum of the particular articuli fidei appeared almost as identical.
But in this way there was introduced a narrowing of the notion
of the Church, compared with which even the Roman notion of
the Church appears in many respects more elastic and therefore
superior, and as the result of which Lutheranism approximated
to the Socinian view.' The Church threatened to be transformed
into a School — into the School, namely, of pure doctrine. But
if the Church is a School, then in its view the distinction be-
tween those who know and those who do not know comes to be
of fundamental importance, and the resolute aiming at life passes
into the background ; in other words, there arises the Chris-
tianity of theologians and pastors and there develops itself a
doctrinairism which becomes lax in sanctification. So far as
Luther himself was concerned, he ever again broke through this
view, indeed it was never wrought out with entire strictness
even in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, as is proved, e.^.,
by the sacred poetry. Yet the fundamental evangelical view of
Christianity as a whole — not as a sum of separate portions of
doctrine — became obscured, and the practical aim of religion
became uncertain. Consequently instead of there being given to
the future clear and unambiguous guidance with regard to faith,
doctrine and Church, there was set to it rather a problem, —
namely, of givinga high place to " doctrine " in the Lutheran sense,
while freeing it at the same time from everything that cannot be
adopted otherwise than by »ieans of spiritual surrender, and
of moulding the Church as the fellowship of faith, without giving
it the character of a theological school. The incorrect view of
faith (contemplated as assent to a sum of many articuli fidei of
equal value) became especially disastrous for the evangelical
doctrine of justification. This doctrine necessarily appeared
now as the correct statement of a particular dogma — nothing
more. As soon as this cam.e about, the doctrine lost its true

tlieni that " doctrine " properly so called). But if in the
one applies " doctrine " to all " articuli fidei," while he ei
or scarcely thinks any more, of the preaching that requi
Adam and become a new man," than the necessary conseqiiei
and a lax feeling about what is moral. For the (act that
ensued Lulher was not really without responsibility.

■xplanation quoted above
her does not at all think,
es him " to slay the old
evil doctrinairism
sequence actually

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 241

significance and thereby its practical design. If it was en-
croached upon from the one side by the " objective dogmas," it
was only natural that from the other side it should be restricted
by a complicated doctrine of sanctifi cation, mystic union (unio
mystica), etc. How much it becanne impaired and impoverished
under this pressure has been shown to us by Ritschl in his
account of the preparation in history for Pietism. But we need
only glance at the history of the German Confessional, in order
to see what desolation was caused by Lutheranism in narrowing
faith to " pure doctrine." As no earnest Christian can continue
to be satisfied with correct theology as the ideal of Christian
perfection, it was only a natural consequence, nay a real redemp-
tion, when Catholic ascetic criteria were again set up in the
practice of Lutheranism. But as time went on there could not
be satisfaction even with this'; for it was the evangelical faith,
of course, that one held, and hence what was attained was only
a feeble imitation of Catholicism. Thus the evangelical ideal of
life also remained a problem for the evangelical Church.^

' Wilh another main problem th.il asserted itself from the first within the doctrinal
hisloty of Protestantism I cannot here deal, as it would lead to an entering deeply
into the development of Protestantism — I mean the relation of the new system of
faith, as first formulated in Melanchthon's Loci, to the system of natural ikeology.
This system, after it had been prepared for by Noniinnlism, introduced and developed
itself almost unobserved as a " natural child " from the union of Classical Humanism
with certain perceptions of the poiitive theology. The devotion to antiquity showed
itself in this, that the Ciceronianism, which had partly supplanted the worn-off and
misused Aristolelianism, was clolhed with the authority of the universally human,
the innate, the reasonable, as there could not of course be given to it the authority of
revelation. This natural " system," having its ultimate source in the Stoa, and used
only unconsciously or sparingly by Luther, was increasingly turned to account by the
Prieceptor Germanic even in specific theology, and under the hard shell of Con-
fessional systems of faith began even in the sixteenth centuiy the struggle for the sole
supremacy, a. supremacy which it was 10 achieve in the eighteenth century after it
had acquired strength from the new science of nature. So long as it remained in
combination with other modes of thought, it produced, as a universal principle, very
different effects. At one time it strengthened ihe Scholastic form of the doctrines of
&ith, at another time it weakened particulat dogmas that were paradoxical or that
were constructed from a strictly religious point of view. At one time it really gave
dramatic theologians the consciousness of possessing a system of securely founded
truths, and surrounded even particular doctrines of the faith with the halo of universal
human reason, at another time it appeared as the stem adversary of these doctrines.
Taken as a whole it was a transitional phase, absolutely necessary, from the cognition
that was purely ecclesiastical, determined by the world beyond, and dependent on

242

HISTORV OF DOGMA

[CHAP. 1

Secondly, Luther left behind him an unspeakable confusion
as regards the significance of the old dogmas in the strictest
sense of the word. No bridge leads to them from his justifying,
saving faith, not because this faith does not reach to them, but
because tJwse dogmas do not describe the being of God in so wonder-
ful and comforting a way as evangelical faith is able to do from
its knowledge. This statement can be tested at every point
where Luther gives direct and living expression to his Chris-
tianity. Christ is not to him a divine Person, who has taken to
Himself humanity, but the man fesus Christ is the revelation of
God Himself ; and Father, Son and Spirit are not three Persons
existing side by side, but one God and Father has opened His
Fatherly heart to us in Christ and reveals Christ in our hearts by
His Spirit. What has this view of faith to do with the specu-
lations of the Greeks ? How much more akin these speculations
are to the natural understanding, if only it has granted certain
premises, than Luther's view is! A philosopher is able to pro-
vide himself with the means for discerning profundity and
wisdom in the dogmas of the Greek Church ; but no philosopher
is in the position for feeling any kind of relish for Luther's faith.
Luther himself failed to see the gulf that separated him from
the old dogma, partly because he interpreted the latter accord-
ing to his own thoughts, partly because he had a remnant of
respect for the decrees of the Councils, partly because it pleased
him to have a palpable, definite, lofty, incomprehensible cardinal
article with which to oppose Turks, Jews and fanatics. Only

tradition, to Ihe knowledge tbat is critical, liislorical, and psycho! c^ically deterniioed,
and for two hundred years it kept ali ve scientific problems under the most »ariou
forms and modifications, and united the clearest and best heads. On Melanchthon'
relation to this system and on the influence it exercised on the oldest formulatjon of
the Protestant system of faiih see Dillhey's Article in the Archiv. f. Gesch, del
Philos., Vol. VI., pp. 225-256, 347-379; Troltsch, Vemunft und Offenbarung bei
Johann Gerhard und Melanchthon, iSgi ; Paulsen, Gesch. des gelehrten Unterrichts,
and Ed., 1st Vol., 1896. The doctrine of predestination and the " S>-stem oi
Nature" accompany the development of Ihe Protestant system of faith. The two
can coalesce, from both there can develop itself a " religious universal Theism" that
directs itself against the positive theolc^y, or that exercises a strongly repreSMve
influence upon it. Bui until the time of Spinoza predesllnatian determinism
rather the protector of the positive theology, while Ihe " System of Nature" wlought
continuously in the direction of broadening it.

.CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 243

when the doctrines of the Trinity and Christology are viewed as
leading articles in Luther's sense is justice done to them ; to
him they were not merely loci, to which other doctrinal loci were
attached, they were doctrines from which he knew how to
develop evangelical Christianity : God in Christ. But what
continued to have vitality when dealt with by him and taken in his
sense was not thereby protected for the future; and he himself,
as a medieval man, could not resist the temptation to speculate
about these formulfe in the direction already indicated by the
way in which they had been framed. Since at the same
time he would not surrender his fundamental thoughts, he be-
came involved in speculations that were no whit behind the
most daring and worst fancies of the Nomioalistic Sophists.
They were different from these only in this, that Luther built
up this thought-world with childlike faith, while the former,
half belie vingly, half sceptically, went in search of dialectic pro-
blems. From the doctrine of the Eucharist (see below) Luther
derived a specially strong impulse to reflect in the old style upon
Christology. But as he conceived of the unity of deity and
humanity in Christ with a strictness that had characterised no
theologian before him, it was inevitable that within the lines of
the two-nature doctrine he should find himself in the midst uf
those miserable speculations about the ubiquity of the body of
Christ which are carried on at the supreme heights of scholastic
absurdity. The melancholy consequence was that Lutheranism
— as nota eccles is— received at once in Christology the most
fully developed scholastic doctrine ever received by an ecclesi-
astical community. Owing to this Lutheranism was for almost
200 years thrown back into the middle ages. Hance the Refor-
mation terminates here also in a contradiction, which furnisJud
for subsequent times a problem: it gave to the new Church tlie
faith in God, Christ and the Holy Ghost of which Paul made con-
fession in Rom. VIII. and which 2vas still witnessed to by Paul
Gerhardt in the hymn, " 1st Gott fiir inich, so trete gleich AUes
wider ntich " (If God be on my side, let all things be my foes') ;
but it gave to it at the same time the old dogma as the unchange-
able cardinal article, together with a christological doctrine, which
did not negate the fundamental evangelical interest, but which had

244 HISTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

received an entirely scholastic s/iape and had therefore the inevit-
able effect of confusing and obscuring faith. The blame rests
upon Luther, not upon the Epigones, if in the Evangelical
Church at the present day every one must still let himself be
stigmatised as a traitor who declares the doctrine of the Trinity
and the Chalcedonian formula to be an extremely imperfect
doctrine, harmonising neither with evangelical faith nor with
reason (the latter was to be true of it, however, as understood
by its authors). This practice was handed down by the same
Luther who otherwise knew very well what unbelief is in the
sense of the gospel. But Luther, as we have shown, had great
excuses for his error ; the same cannot be said for those of the
present day, They have, no doubt, other excuses — a regard to
the orthodoxy that already prevails among the congregations,
the traditional custom of fostering piety by means of these
doctrines — what is there that cannot be used for fostering piety
in this or that person? even the Song of Solomon, even amu-
lets ! — and ignorance of the history of dogma.^ How much

1 How great this last is may be gatheied from the fact that there are those at die
present day who simply place their imaginary notions about Christology — the Kenotic
theory for example — under the protection of the ancient dogma, i.e., who really ruJe
out the latter, bat nevertheless play the part of vindices dogmatis. The position of
things is not essentially different as regatds the doctrine of the Trinily. A speculation
is evolved from one's inner consciousness, which has in common with the old dogma
the conltadictioa between one and three, but is otherwise different from it toto ccelo,
and then one describes himself as orthodox, his opponents as heretical. As if it were
not an easy thing for each of these heretics to garnish his criticism of the old dogmn
with similar fancies I If they could produce real satisfaction in this way, they would
certainly be under obligation to do so. But these adomings have supplanted one
another with astonishing rapidity— for a number of years they have almost ceased to
be attempted ; no one of them really gave satisfaclion, each one served at the best
to delay the crisis. No further notice is taken to-day as to kins one comes to terms
with the old dogma, indeed one shrugs his shoulders beforehand in contemplating bis
attempt. But that one does come to terms, even although it be by the fides implidta
tenuissima, which means that one has no wish to disturb what the Church believes —
that is enough. Thus from the days of Schleiermacher there is a living within the
ositive theoli^ so to speak from hand to mouth. But even with that we should
have to reconcile ourselves — our knowledge being in part — were it not that the old
dogma has afettering, burdening, and confiising influence on the faith ofthe nineteenth
century. Because that is undoubtedly the case, what must be done is to contend
one's self against the whole world for the simple gospel. The strongest Bt^ment
ui^ed from the other side is in these terms: "Observe that it is only where the old
dogma is that there is to be found at the present time in Protestantism deep know*

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT.

they derive their life, not from the fundamental thought of the
Reformation, but from Catholic reminiscences, is most distinctly
shown by the fact that when for this or that reason one has
once lost confidence in the old dogma, the almost invariable re-
sult is that he declares that doctrine is not after all a matter of
so muck hnportance. Against this Franciscan -Erasmic attitude
too strong a protest cannot be made. If it were possible to
enter into a compact with truth at all, the old dogma would still
be much to be preferred to that indifference towards doctrine ;
for such indifference leads inevitably to Catholicism, and is as
inimical as possible to evangelical Christianity. Everything as a
matter of fact depends upon the right doctrines of God as the
Father of Jesus Christ and of the old and new man. Just for
that reason the alternative : the old dogma, or mere " practical
Christianity" must be answered with a neither-nor. Evan-
gelical faith knows only of "doctrines" which are at the same
time dispositions and deeds ; these, however, are for it, with
Luther, Christianity.

But Luther not only took over the old Greek dogma as
evangelical doctrine (doctrina evangelii) and law of faith (lex
fidei); he also took over the Augustinian doctrine of original
sin, the doctrine of the primitive state, etc., and thus imposed
upon faith a not less oppressive burden, in so far as he imported
into faith a view of history made up of questionable exegesis,
undiscerning criticism, and varied speculation. These he cor-
rected, no doubt, according to his own principles, and if the
factors themselves had remained, one might have been content
with this theory for want of a better ; but when looked at from

ledge of sin, true repentance, and vEgorous ecclesiastical activity." To this
objection tlie following reply must be given : First, that this self- estimation has a
Pharisaic and evil ritig about it, and that Ih* judgment as to knowledge of sin and
repentance fall;, not to the ecclesia:iticHl press, but to God the Lord ; second, that
"vigorous ecclesiastical activity" aflbtds no guarantee for unadulterated evangelical
faith; were that alone decisive, Lulher was wrong when ha brought a revolution
upon the old Church, for a long time elapsed before the Lutheran Churches were on
a level in respect of vigorous activity with Ihe Post-Tridenline Catholic Churchj
third, that it is no wonder that the others are in a leading position, who take control
of the power of tradition and of all means of rule in the most conservative corporation
that exists — in the Church. For the rest, the Christian must find out the good and
holy, whatever be the quarter in which it may present itself.

246

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV.

the point of view of justifying faith, it was certainlya ^rraiSatris-
eiV nXKo yeVo? to formulate articles of faith about these things,
and this firrd/Sao-i^ was and is not without danger. It is true,
no doubt, that from the standpoint of evangelical faith one
comes to see that a// sin is unbelief and guilt before God, and
that everyone on the first inqu iry finds such guilt already resting
upon him. Yet the dogma of original sin contains more and
less than this conviction represents, because it springs from
" reason." It contains more, because it transforms a proposition
based on Christian self-criticism into a piece of general historical
knowledge about the beginnings of the human race ; it contains
less, because it will always give one occasion for excusing his
own guilt. To this connection belong also the partly Nominal-
istic, partly Thomistic view of the doctrine of predestination ^
and the doctrine of the double will of God, because they pass
beyond the doctrine of faith.

The third contradiction which Luther left behind to his
followers is to be found in his attitude towards Scripture, If he
lacked power to free himself entirely from the authority of the
letter, the lack was still greater on the part of those who came
after him.^ Besides adhering to the Word of God, which was
for him matter and authority, there was an adherence even on
his part to the outward authority of the written word, though
this was certainly occasionally disregarded by him in his
Prefaces to Holy Scripture, and elsewhere as well. It was pro-
bably his opposition to the Anabaptists, some of whom admir-
ably distinguished between Word of God and Holy Scripture,
that led him again to hold to the old Catholic identification of

' Yet see above, p. 223 f. Tlie question with regard lo the doctrine of piedestination
is as to the relation in whicli one places it to religion. It is manifest that while
Luther associated it with, and subordinated it to, the doctrine of the gratia gratis
data, he nevertheless allowed it also a range beyond this, in correspondence with a.
special "theology" ("deus abscondilus") which is not lighted up by faith. That,
though otherwise influenced by Nominalism, he here passes over to Delenninisra is no
doQbt to be explained from bis reading AngnsLine. His reading Thomas and the later
Thomistic Augustinians is scarcely to be thought of here. Yet he may have received
an impulse from Lanrentius Valla, to whom his attention had long been directed {see
Loofs, D<^mengesch. , 3rd ed., p. 376).

» .See Gottschick, DieKirchlichkeitdersog. Kirchlichen Theologie (1S90), p. 36 f.

CHAP, IV.]

THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT.

247

the two.^ How disastrous this adherence was is a. question
that need not be discussed ; for we are still under its effects
to-day ; indeed, it may be said that no other surviving Catholic
element has restricted the development of Protestantism so
much as this. The requirement that the pure sense of Holy
Scripture should be ascertained, was simply deprived of its force
by regarding Scripture as the verbally inspired Canon. On the
one hand the evangelical doctrine of salvation had the burden
of a hundred and one foreign materials imposed upon it ;^ on
the other hand, there was a disregarding of Scripture even
where it ought to have been made use of, because one neces-
sarily had to find in it, as the infallible authority, simply what
was already held on other grounds to be pure doctrine. In this
way precisely the same state of things came to exist again in
Protestantism which prevailed in Catholicism ; that is to say.
Scripture was subordinated in all points of importance to the
rule of faith (regula fidei), its essential, historical import was ac-
cordingly not sufficiently taken account of; and, on the other
hand. Scripture was made a source of burdens and snares.
This is always the paradoxical, and yet so intelligible, result of
adopting the belief in an inspired Scripture Canon 1 in what is
of chief moment this inspired Canon subjects the gospel to the
ecclesiastical " rule of faith," and at the same time it produces
incalculable and confusing effects upon faith in matters of
secondary importance. So we see it to be even in Protestantism.
But that which the same Luther taught : " We have the right

' Loofs' assertion is not corrett ( D^^mengesch. , p. 373) ihat ihe placing of Holy
Scripture and Wotd of God on the same level was nowhere assailed al that time.

^It has been correctly pointed out tbat its being required that the allegorical
exegesis should be departed from only made the thing worse. This kind of exegesis
was able to get quit of the leltei should it not stand at the highest level, and thus
corrected the dangerous principle of verbal inspiration. The literal sense of Holy
Scripture and verbal inspiration: this combination first came to exist as a consequence
of Lutheranism. The absurd tbesiscouldnotof course be really applied in a tboroiighly
logical way J besides, there was created — happily, it may he said— by ihe exposition
of Hoi; Scripture according to the analngia fidei, i.e., according to the Lutheran
system of doctrine, a new allegotism ; but the number of cases— by no means incoo-
siderable— in which the literal sense of particular passages, valuable only as historical,
was treated as furnishing dogmatic guidance created the most distressing diDiculties
and burdens for the Lutheran Churches (even for Luther himself indeed}.

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CIIAP. IV.

touchstone for testing all books, in observing whether they
witness to Christ or not," could not certainly continue without
its inRuence. Nevertheless, it was not this that gave rise to the
historical criticism of books in Protestantism, That was a con-
sequence of the advance made in secular culture. It was
because this was its origin that the evangelical Church took up,
and still continues to take up, towards it an attitude of strong
resistance. But if the Church has not the courage and the
power to carry on criticism with Luther against Luther in the
interests of faith, it is itself responsible if criticism is forced upon
it from without, and if, as necessarily follows, it serves, not to
strengthen the Church, but only to weaken it. Here also, then,
LutJur left a problem to the time coming after, as his own
attitude was rendered uncertain by a disastrous survival of the
Catliolic view : along with the other external Catliolic autlwrities
the evangelical Church must also discard the external autlwrity of
the written Word, regarded as infallible; but it must at the same
time take up its position within the system of Christian doctrine
■where faith takes it, namely, beside the person of Christ, as
luminously presented in tlie Gospels, and witnessed to by Bis first
disciples.

Fourthly, in the doctrine of the sacraments Luther abandoned
his position as a Reformer, and was guided by views that
brought confusion into his own system of faith, and injured in
a still greater degree the theology of his adherents. In his
endeavour to withstand the Enthusiasts, while starting from the
point that denotes a specially strong side in his conception of
faith, he was led by a seemingly slight displacement to very
objectionable propositions, the adoption of which resulted in a
partial relapse. In addition to the vagueness that continued to
exist regarding the attitude towards Scripture, the falling back
in the view taken of the means of grace became the real source
of evil for Lutheranism. If we think of the doctrinairism, the
Scholastic Christology, the magical ideas about the Sacrament,
etc, that have developed themselves, it is here that we have to
seek for the real beginnings of these defects.

From the fixed and exclusive aspect in which Luther set
before him God, Christ, the Holy Spirit, faith, and justification

CHAP, IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 249

(grace), he came to see that the Holy Spirit is bound to the
Word of God, i.e., that the Spirit and the Word of God have an
inseparable and exclusive relation to each other. What is con-
templated by this principle is, first, the establishment of the
certain efficacy of the Word ; and, secondly, the distinguishing
of revelation as in the strict sense exlernal, because divine, from
ali that is merely subjective. Hence the words occur in the
Smalcaldic Articles, P. III., a. 8 : ^ " And in those things that
relate to the spoken and external word, it must be steadfastly
held that God bestows upon no one His Spirit or His grace
except through the Word and along with the Word, as external
and previously spoken, that so we may defend ourselves against
enthusiasts, ;>., spirits who boast that they have the Spirit prior
to the word and without the word and accordingly judge,
twist, and pervert Scripture or the spoken word according as
they please, . . . Wherefore we must steadfastly adhere to this,
that it is not God's will to transact with us except through the
spoken word and sacraments, and that whatever boasts itself
without the word and sacraments as Spirit, is the devil himself." ^
This equating of Spirit and Word is undoubtedly correct, so
long as there is understood by the Word the Gospel itself in
the power of its influence and in the whole range of its validity
and application. Yet even the exchange of this Word for the
narrower conception, " vocal word and sacraments" is not un-
objectionable. When, however, all that is to be held true of the
Word is then forthwith applied to the limited conceptions,
" vocal word and sacraments," so that these are in every respect

1 M filler, p. 321 f. Compare the treatise "Wider die himmlisehen Propheten"
(Etlang, Ed. XXIX., p. 134 ff., especially p. 2o3 E), Art. J of the Augs. Conf. :
" Per verbum et sacranientii tanquaiu per instnimenta douatur spiritus sanctus, qui
fidem efficit " and the principle so often staled by Luther : " Deus interna non dat
nisi per externa,"

' " Ec in his, qua; vocaie et externum verbum concemunt, constanter tenendum est,
deutn nemini apiritum vel gratiam auaro larEiri, nisi per verbum el cuni verbo externo
«t pr3»:edeilte, ul ita prxmuniamtis nos adversum enthusiastos, i.e., spiritus, qui
jactitant se ante verbum et sire verbo spiritum habere et ideo acripturam siye vocaie
verbum judicant, Hectunt et retlectunl pro libito. . . . Quare in hoc nobis est
constanter peiseverandum, quod deus non veiit nohiscum abler agere nisi per vocaie
verbum el sacramenia, el quod, quidquld sine verba ct sacramentis jactatur ut spiritus,
sit ipse diabolus."

nSTORY OF DOGMA. [CllAP. IV".

and in all thdr properties ■' the Word," the relapse into magical
conceptions is inevitable, Luther wished by his doctrine of the;
means of grace to offer sure comfort to troubled consciences,
and to guard them against the hell of uncertainty about their
standing in grace- — an uncertainty which the Enthusiasts,
seemed to regard as of no account. Therefore he preached
without ceasing that it is as certain that the grace of God is-
given in the IVord 3.3 that Jesus Christ Himself acts ; therefore
he contended against the Scotist doctrine of a mere co-existence
of forgiveness of sins and sensible (audible) signs ;' therefore
he attached so decisive a weight to the "objectivity of the
means of grace," ^ and had the anxious desire that it should be
declared of them, that even in every part of their administration
and in respect of all that Scripture taught, or seemed to teach,
regarding them, they were equally important and inviolable
Yet not merely through separating out particular observances
as means of grace did Luther retreat within the narrow, for-
saken circle of the Middle Ages — -the Christian lives, as he
himself knew best, not on means of grace, he Hves through
communion with his God, who lays hold of him in Christ — but
in a still greater degree by undertaking, first, to justify infant
baptism as a means of grace in the strict sense ; second, to con-
ceive of penance as also the gracious means of initiation ; thirdf
to declare the real presence of the body and blood of Christ in
the Eucharist to be the essential part of this Sacrament Pro-
bably the mere retaining of the term, " means of grace," would
not of itself have had a disturbing effect on evangelical doctrine ;:
for ever again Luther too distinctly emphasised the fact, that
the means of grace is nothing else than the Word, which
awakens faith and gives the assurance of forgiveness of sins.
But that threefold undertaking brought back upon the Church
of the Reformation the evils of the Middle Ages, and hindered)

1 Schmaliisld. Art. P. III., a. 5 (p. 320): "Non etiam facimus cum Scolo et
Minoiitis seu ini)na,chis Franciscanis, qui docent, haplismn ablui peccatum ex
assistentia divinx voluntatis, et hanc ablutionem fieri tantum per dei voluntatem et
mininiB per verbum et aquani."

*See Harless u, Harnack, Die kiichlich-teligiose Bedcututig dei reinen Lehrc von
den Gnadenmitteln, lS69.

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 251

it for many generations from effectively expressing along with
the spiritual character of the Christian religion it.s deep earnest-
ness ; for the earnestness of religion is reduced when the opus
operatum makes its appearance and the strict relation between,
gospel and faith is relaxed or encumbered,

A. As regards the first point — infant baptism — the question
is quite clear for anyone who does not believe himself required
on " practical " grounds to confuse the matter. If the funda-
mental evangelical and Lutheran principle is valid, that grace
and faith are inseparably inter-related (Larger Catechism IV.v
p. 496 I " In the absence of faith, baptism continues to be only
a bare and ineffectual sign"'), then infant baptism is in itself
no Sacrament, but an ecclesiastical observance ; if it is in the
strict sense a Sacrament, then that principle is no longer valid.
This dilemma can be escaped neither by a reference to the
faith of the sponsors, parents, etc. (thus Luther himself at the
first) — for that is the worst form of iides implicita — nor by the
assumption that in baptism faith is given ;- for an unconscious
faith is an almost equally bad species of that fides implicita. It
would only have been in accordance, therefore, with the evan-
gelical principle, either to do away with infant baptism, as it
was only in later times that the Roman Church did away with
infant communion, or to declare it to be an ecclesiastical
observance, which only receives its true import afterwards
(inasmuch as that which is given in baptism has existence at
all only on condition of there being the knowledge of sin). Yet
neither of these courses was followed : Luther retained infant
baptism rather as the .sacrament of regeneration, and while^
according to his views, it should have been at the most a
symbol of prevenient grace, he conceived of it as an efficacious
act. Thus, although there was an unwillingness to observe it,,
there was a return to the opus operatum, and the relation
between gracious effect and faith was severed. If in the time
that came after the voice of conscience was too audible against

' " Absente lide baptismua nurlum et inefficax signum tantummodo pernianet."
s Larger Calechism IV., p. 494 : " Pueram ecclesiff minislio baptizandum appor-
tamus, bac ape atque animo, quod eerie credat, et piecamur, ut dominus eum fide

353

HISTORV OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV.

the absurd assumption that there can be a new birth without
the knowledge of this birth, then the solution that was resorted
to was almost worse still than the difficulty from which escape
was sought. Justification and regeneration were separated ; in
the former there was seen the " objective " (the abstract divine
act of justification, the forensic justifying sentence, which
declares the sinner [impius] righteous), in the latter the subjec-
tive. In this way the most splendid jewel of evangelical
Christianity became robbed of its practical power — became,
that is, of no effect The forcibly effected distinction of justifi-
cation from regeneration led the evangelical system of faith
into labyrinths, greatly reduced the importance of justification —
as in Catholicism, justification threatened to become a dogmatic
Locus standing side by side with other Loci — and, through the
interpolation of new dogmas, negatived the practical bearing of
justification on the practical moulding of Christian life.

B. This disastrous development was (secondly) still further
strengthened by an erroneous conception of penitence. Here,
also, Luther himself gave the impulse, and therefore quietly
allowed that to happen which contravened his original and
never abandoned ground principles. That the medieval Catholic
view also continued to have its influence upon him ought not to
be denied. With his whole reforming doctrine and practice,
Luther had on principle taken his stand on the soil of faith ;
within the experience of the believer he had not a.sked, how do
the heathen and Turk become Christians, but, how have I
attained to faith, and what are the powers by which my faith is
sustained? From this point it was certain to him that it is the
gift of faith (or, otherwise expressed, the Gospel) that establishes
and maintains the Christian standing, and that faith works re-
pentance, which is the negative side of faith itself, the "daily
dying." The two are inseparably related, and yet in such a way
that faith is the logical prius. From this it follows that only
such repentance has value before God as springs from faith
(the Gospel), and that it must be as constant a temper as faith.
Through such faith and such repentance the Christian lives in
the constant forgiveness of sin ; that is to say, this is the sphere
of his existence, whether that be thought of as the continuous.

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 253

grace of baptism to which one daily returns, or the ever-repeated
appropriation of justification (forgiveness of sins). That is a
view, certainly, which can easily transform itself into the dread-
ful opposite — easy security, and a penitent disposition (with the
corresponding sanctiii cation of life) that never on any occasion
strongly asserts itself. If men are told that they must constantly
repent, and that particular acts of repentance are of no use,
there are few who will ever repent. And yet, the corruption of
what is best is the worst corruption (corruptio optimi pessima) ;
the danger that attaches to a truth can never be a reason for
concealing the truth. It is true, no doubt, that training in the
truth cannot begin with presenting to view its entire content, its
seriousness and freedom ; but the system of faith must not on
that account be corrupted. Yet in Lutheranism it became cor-
rupted very soon, and in the end, as is always the case, that was
not reached which these corruptions were intended to reach,
namely, the checking of laxity and indifference. These last,
rather, only took occasion to derive pleasant comfort for them-
selves from the new formulation gradually introduced. This
new formulation goes back to thoughts belonging to "natural
theology," or, say, to thoughts belonging to the ancient Church,
which Luther himself never wished to eradicate. Its root was
the assumption adhered to in spite of certainty of the abolition
of the law (as a demand, to which there always answers only a
performance), that the law contains the unchangeable will of
God, and in this sense has its own permanent range of action
side by side with the Gospel (as if the latter did not contain this
will implicitly !). If that was once granted, then it was necessary
to find room in the Christian state for the law. This room is
first proved to ctist from the experience of the terrors of con-
science (terrores conscienti^) which everyone must pass through.
Even here much depends on the emphasis that is laid upon this
fact and the measure in which it is subordinated to what is
properly the act of faith. Yet the law as the unchangeable will
of God does not yet attain here its full expression ; for the
"repentance" that arises through the law is to be translated
into the true repentance which the Gospel works. Now that
idea of the law would have justice done to it if the Gospel itself

354

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. rv.

were conceived of as the law divested of the " legal " forms and
clothed over with mercy ; yet this thought, which already comes
■close to phenomenalism, could at the most be touched on by so
irugged a thinker as Luther, No, the law as law is certainly
abolished for the Christian — he who makes the attempt by
means of the law takes the path to hell — but for God it still
■continues to exist, i.e., God's will remains as before expressed in
it, and he must take cognisance of the law's fulfilment. Where
this thought comes in, Luther becomes uncertain as to the
.nature of the application and force of the work of Christ (see
Loofs, I.e., 3rd ed., p. 380), i.e., this work ceases to be regarded
as a work once for all done and completed, and receives an
enlargement, in so far as it is subjected tc a view that breaks it
'Up, that view being that for every particular case of sin on the
part of the baptised, Christ must interpose anew with His
■obedience, i.e., with a vicarious fulfilment of the law; for other-
wise satisfaction is not made to the law of God. This thought
was not transformed into a theory, but it occurs not infrequently
in Luther ; for it was the inevitable result of the requirement
imposed upon God that He shall have compensation made to
Hira for every particular transgression of the law. Tbe retained
attritio (contritio passiva) and the uncertainties regarding the
nature and result of the work of Christ thus flow for Luther
from one source, namely, the idea that the law contains also the
will of God, and therefore has an independent place side by side
with the Gospel. The only means of removing this enormous
difficulty would be the decided recognition of the phenomenal
view, namely, that in the law God presents himself to view as
what the sinner for his punishment must feel and think of Him
as being.

To go back to repentance, this view of the law had as its
■result that in the course of instruction law was placed before
Gospel. That was the plan adopted by Melanchthon, with the
consent of Luther, in the " Unterricht der Visitatoren " (Direc-
tions for those visiting).^ At the same time there were grounds

'Corpus. Ref. XXVI., p. 51 sq. : "Although there are some who think thai
jiolhing should be taught before &ith, and that repentance should be left to follow
'tram and after faith, so that the adversaries may not say Ihal wi retract our farmer

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 255

for earnestly enforcing ecclesiastical confession, that a check
might be put upon the worst forms of sin. In this lies the
■explanation of the fact that theory also became obscure : within
the lines of this view (under other conditions the original view
was still retained in force by Luther and Melanchthon) re-
pentance and forgiveness became the conversion of the ungodly,
or of the backsliding sinner; as such they were either identified
with justification or placed side by side with it, but in both
'Cases they were united most closely with the ecclesiastical con-
fessional. The ungodly attains for the first time or again to
faith, when his sin is forgiven him on the ground of repentance
'(but this repentance can no longer be distinguished from the
■Catholic attritio), ;.£., when God absolves him anew "in foro" ;
unfortunately, there was also an increasing tendency here to
think of the intervention of the minister, whom the "man of
coarse and degraded character" certainly needed. But what
else is that thanadoublette to the Catholic Sacrament of penance,
with this difference only, that the compulsory auricular confes-
sion and the satisfactions have been dropped ? !n this way a
most convenient arrangement was come to about the matter,
and how comfortably things were adjusted by the help of this
Catholic Sacrament of penance, minus the burdensome Roman
additions, is suggestively indicated by Lutheran orthodoxy
when at the height of its influence, and by the reaction of
Spetier and Pietism. Under this view the idea of justification,
as has been already pointed out above, was shrivelled up into an
act of initiation and into an entirely external action of God, the
natural effect of which was the blunting of conscience. Here
also it was inevitable that the Catholic doctrine should now
appear to have superior worth ; for according to this view of

doctrine, yet the matter must be (thus) viewed ; — Because repentance and law belong
also to the common faith— for one must first bdUve, of course, thai thsrc is a God
who threatens, commands, terrifies — let it be for the man of coarse and degraded
character Chat such portions of faith (according to this, then, faith has " portions,"
contrary to Luther's view) are allowed to remain under the name of precept, law,
fear, etc., in order that they may understand the more discriminatingly the faith in
Christ, which the Apostles call "justifying feith," i.e., which makes just and cancels
sin, an effect not produced hyfailh in Q\e precept axA hy repentance, and that the man
of toTB ckaraetsr may not be ted astray hy the word faith and ask useless questions."

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

what takes place, the holding to the " faith alone " (" fides sola ")
necessarily resulted in dangerous laxity. What would really
have been required here would have been to lead Christians to
see that only the " fides caritate formata " has a real value before
God. Hence one cannot wonder — it was rather a wise course
under such assumptions — that Melanchthon afterwards aban-
doned the "sola fides" doctrine, and became the advocate of a
fine Synergism. But by the task of uniting the old evangelical
conviction with this doctrine of repentance, while at the same
time avoiding Melanchthon's synergism, the theology of the
Epigones was involved in the most hopeless confusion. The
question was really that of intcr-relating two "justifications,"
the justification of the sinner (justificatio impii) (on the ground
of the law and of repentance), and justification as the abiding
form of the Christian state. To this there was further added as
the third "justification " — it was dependent again on other con-
ditions — the justification of baptised children : one is justified
by repentance, which is produced by the law and then becomes
faith ; one is justified by the faith which the Gospel effects ;
one is justified by the act of baptism ! These contradictions be-
came still more violent as soon as attention was directed to
regeneration, and they led back to the most hopeless scholasti-
cism. And out of this scholasticism, as in the case of the old
scholasticism, out of all kinds of troubles and painful efforts
there arose — under disguise, but in a form quite recognisable by
an eye familiar with Luther's Christianity — the two funda-
mental Catholic errors, the assumption of an efficacy of the
means of grace ex opere operato, and the transformation of the
evangelical notion of faith into a vieritorious performance ; for
there must come in somewhere personal responsibility and
personal activity. Now if one has persuaded himself that every-
thing that suggests "good works" must be dropped out of the
religious sequence, there ultimately remains over only the
readiness to subject one's self to faith, ;>,, to the pure
doctrine.

Neither the opus operatum nor the meritoriousness of faith,
but certainly the confusion of the decisive question, already
comes to view in the Confession of Augsburg. It has been very

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 257

correctly pointed out by Loofs' that the twelfth Article is a
shadowy companion of the fourth, and his wish in directing
attention to this is undoubtedly to show the objectionableness
of this reduplication. But the twelfth Article itself is no longer,
in its construction, in harmony with the evangelical conception;'
for it has approximated to the Catholic Sacrament of penance.
The reference to the Ecclesia is in this connection an at least
misleading concession, and the division of repentance (pceni-
tentia) into " contrition " and " faith," the former being put first,
while only the latter is expressly traced back to the gospel, is
very objectionable. But what is most objectionable is, that the
Article favours the Catholic view, by suggesting that every time
the Christian falls he falls from the state of grace, and must
then be restored to it by the sacrament of repentance. If this
view were clearly and unmistakably at the basis of this Article,
its effect would be to deny what is central in evangelical faith.
This faith makes no distinction between sin and sin, as the
Catholic doctrine does, and it knows that " every day we sin
much." If the cancelling of the state of grace had to be thought
of as always united with thi.'', we should be taken back again
into the heart of Catholicisin, and it would be a matter of entire
indifference whether we should adopt the other Catholic doc-
trines or not. For in the Evangelical Church there must be no
departure from the Article, that God forgives His ckild, the
justified Christian, his sins, that, accordingly, not merely does
forgiveness of sins and justification constitute the "justification"
of the sinner, but the Christian lives upon the forgiveness of sins,
and, in spite of sin and guilt, is a child of God. This cardinal
thought, that the Christian does not fall from grace, if he com-
forts himself in thinking of the God who forgives sins, and
accordingly has the feeling of hatred towards sin, has at least

1 Dogmgesch., and ed., p. 262.

5 "De pcenilentia docent, quod lapsis post baptismum contingere possit remissio
peccBlonim quocunque tempore, quum convertantur, et quod ecclesia. lalibus redeun-
tibus ad pcenitentiam absolutioncm impcrCiri debeat. Constat nutem pcenitentia.
proprie his duabus partibus. Altera est contrilio seu teirores iiicussi conscientiEe
agnito peccato ; altera est fides, qure concipitur ei evangelic seu absolutione, et
credit propter ChriBtum reniilti peecala, et eonsolalur consciemiam el ex lerrnribus
liberaL Deinde sequi debent bona opera, qux sunt fructus ptenitentia;."

HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

been veiled by the Augsburg Confession in the twelfth Article,
while elsewhere, certainly, the thought forms the basis of many
of its most important expositions. How, then, could all those
things be right which the Confession teaches so impressively
about the constant trust in God, if the Christian mij^ht not
comfort himself constantly with the thought of his being God's
child? But how sadly has this thought been obscured, in order
to escape the danger of laxity, which, however, only comes in
from another side in a worse form ; how obscure it is even yet
in Protestantism, and how difficult it is to persuade the ac-
credited teachers of the Christian people that blunted con-
sciences can have the seriousness of the gospel exhibited to
them only by setting before them the love of God 1

C. The third point is Luther's doctrine of the Eucharist.^ In
countless passages Luther declared that Word and Sacrament
are the means of grace, because they contain the forgiveness of
sins, and that it is in this alone that their value is entirely con-
tained. " With stern contempt " he often enough discarded all
fanciful ideas that lead astray from what alone can afford the
Christian comfort. Accordingly, his doctrine of the Eucharist
could only run in these terms : — that the Word of God, which
is in and with the eating, brings forgiveness of sins, and thereby
procures life and blessedness. Hence the question about the
body and blood of Christ in the Sacrament must not become in
any way a theological question — "theology" being taken as
Luther understood it^or, if it does, it must be discussed in
strictest connection with the historic Christ ; for only through
the work of the historic Christ is the Word of God the word of
forgiveness of sins. That being so, no doubt could arise that
the body and blood of Christ was just that which he had yielded
up to death, i.e., his natural, human body. Only iii this way,
too, could His disciples understand Him. But if the body which
He gave to His disciples to eat was His natural body, then it is
at once clear that as regards His body it was only a symbol

1 See Dieckhoff, Die evang. Abenilmahlslehre (1854), p. 167 fF. H. Sclmlb;, Dief
Lehre voui hi, Abendmahl, 1886. Schmid, Der Kaiiipf der Luth. Kirche um
Lehrc vom Abendmahl, 1868. Very full irealmeiit in Thomasius-Seebeig, II., 1
p. 522 ff.

.CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 259

that was in question, while faith receives the forgiveness of sins
by no means merely in a symbolic way. It is then still further
clear, that the Christian is not brought into a more intimate,
mystical union with Christ through the Eucharist than through
the Word, while this Word is not a mere empty sound about
Christ, but the power which proceeds from His historic work.
But, tiTially, the idea of a " more intimate, mystical " union of
the Christian with Christ is, when viewed in the light of Luther's
conception of faith, altogether the worst kind of heresy ; for it
places in question the sovereign power and adequate efficacy of
the Word of God for the sake of a vague feeling, and thereby
robs conscience of the full comfort the Word of God can impart.
There must, therefore, be the strictest adherence to the position,
that while the various sensible signs under which the Word is
presented are by no means, it is true, matters of indifference,
and while in various ways they bring the work of the historic
Christ close to the heart, yet they are unable to add anything
to the power of the Word.

If in what follows another view aiust be stated as having been
held by Luther, it must always be remembered that the one
just developed was always most strenuously represented by
him and never abandoned ; for it runs quite clearly even
through writings that can be legitimately quoted in favour of
another view. No passages require to be brought forward in
proof of it ; for in the Smaller Catechism, for example, it and it
alone finds expression. Certainly an appeal cannot be taken
against it to the word " true " in the sentence : " It is the true
body," though it may be unquestionable that Luther here had
in his mind his opposition to Zwingli. Even as regards the
Word what is in question is the " true," i.e., the historical Christ,
and not merefy the Word, but the Word a/one has, according to
Luther, the power to give the heart a realising sense of the true
Christ who died for sinners.

And yet in contemplating the Eucharist he went on to
"supplement" the view of faith, and this supplement he
defended in the most obstinate way, and pronounced it an
article involving the existence or non-existence of the Church
(articulus stantis etcadentis ecclesia:). In this way he brought

a60 HISTORV OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV,

in a host of evils connected with the creation he left behind
him : the doctrine of the Sacrament in general became con-
fused, a door was opened for the conception of the opus
operatum, doctrinairism was strengthened, the evangelical
Christology was led into the melancholy paths of the abandoned
Scholasticism, and thus an orthodoxy was framed which was
bound to become narrow-minded and loveless. These were the
grave internal consequences. The outward results are well
enough known ; Protestantism was rent asunder. Yet these
latter results were not the worst ; indeed it may be said on the
contrary here, that the isolating for a time of the Lutheran
Reformation was necessary and salutary, if it was not to lose
itself in fields foreign to itself. Had Luther yielded in the
question of the Eucharist, the result would have been the
formation of ecclesiastical and political combinations, which, in
all probability, would have been more disastrous for the
German Reformation than its isolation, for the hands that were
held out to Luther — Carlstadt, Schwenkfeld, Zwingli, etc-
and which to all appearance could not be grasped simply on
account of the doctrine of the Eucharist, were by no means
pure hands. ^ Great political plans, and dangerous forms of un-
certainty as to what evangelical faith is, would have obtained
the rights of citizenship in the German Reformation. Under
these circumstances the doctrine of the Eucharist constituted a
salutary restraint. In its literal import what Luther asserted
was not correct ; but it had its ultimate source in the purpose of
the strong, unique man to maintain his cause in its purity, as it
had presented itself to him, and to let nothing foreign be forced
upon him ; it sprang from the well-grounded doubt as to
whether these people had not another spirit. In the choice of
the means he committed an error ; in the matter itself, so far
what was in question was the averting of premature unions, he
was probably in the right.

This gives us already one motive for his "completing" the
doctrine of the Eucharist, and perhaps the strongest. Luther

'The reference here is not to morality! I enpressly mention this, because ths
expression "pure hands" has been misunderstood. Thi
Diide it imposaible for a faUe understanding to arise.

CHAP. IV.]

THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT.

261

had the fear, or he perceived, that his opponents, including
Zwingli, underrated in general the means of grace, that they
preached the "spirit," without discerning the importance of the
Word. The temptation was very great to teach the presence
of the bodily Christ in the Eucharist, because it appeared that
thereby the certainty of the inter-connection of Spirit (saving
benefit) and means was moat conclusively demonstrated. To
this temptation Luther yielded, though his yielding was always
corrected again by him by means of his original ideas. Secondly,
the letter of Scripture seemed to him to admit of no other in-
terpretation, and by this letter ho felt himself bound. Accord-
ingly even before the year 1524 he had formed the conviction,
that in the Sacrament of the altar forgiveness of sins is so
contained that it is conveyed through the outward presentation
of the real body and blood of Christ (to be eaten and drunk).
The perception of this was first made use of against Carlstadt,^
whom he sought to counter-work by means of letters. From
the year 1525 he turned indirectly, from the year 1526 directly,
against Zwingli also, whom he suspected, not quite without
ground, of making common cause with the enthusiasts. Zwingli
certainly removed the ground of that charge and even by that
time held substantially to the doctrine of salvation by justifica-
tion — not the least cause of this being Luther's writings ; — but
in order to understand Luther's attitude towards Zwingli, we
must keep this suspicion before us. In the correspondence that
now began between the two Reformers Luther expounded
his view, and when pressed by Zwingli, became ever more deeply
involved in Scholasticism.* First of all he let himself be

■ Carlstadt lia.<l laught lint by means of the toSto Christ had pointed to his actual
body in which He sat befoTe His disciples.

' Tlie eaclitsl writings of Luiher on the Eucharist are " Sermon von dem hoch-
wilrdigen Sacrament des hL wahten Leiclinams Chtiati," 1519, " Erkl. Dr. L.'s
etlichcr Arlikel in scinem Sermon v. d, hi. Sacr.," 1520, " Sennoa von dem N.T.
d. i. V. d. hi. Messe," i;zo (EiUng. Ed., XXYII). "Vom Missbrauch der Messe,"
1512, "Von beiderlei Gestalt des Sacraments zu nthmen," i^xl, "Vom Anbeten
des Sacraments des hi. Leichnams Christi," 15*3 (XXVIII.). " Wider die himm-
lischen Prophelcn v. d. Bildern u. Saciameni," 1524-5, "Seimoa v. d. Sacrament
des Leibes a. Blutes Chrisli, wider die Schwanngeisler," 1526 (XXIX). " Dass
diese W'lttc noch feststchen," 1527, " Bekennlniss vom Abendmohl Christi," 1528
JXXX.). "Kurzes Bekeni.lniss Dr, M. L.'s vom hi. Saciament," 1545 (XXXII).

362

HlaXORV OF DOGMA.

[chap. IV.

persuaded that the true body must be the body of the exalted
Christ; for the historical body ceased of course to have an
existence owing to the death on the cross. If it was objected,
however, that it was impossible for the glorified body of the
Exalted One to be in the bread and wine, his reply was that he
extended to the Exalted One ilie idea of the inseparable unity of
deity and humanity in the historical Christ, and in order to
make this conceivable, called in the aid of Occam's Scholasticism.
" The Sophists " (his old enemies !) — so he declares now — " speak
rightly on this matter when they say : — -There are three ways of
being in a place, locally or circumscriptively, definitively, re-
pletively (localiter, circumscriptive, definitive, repletive), and,
that this may the more easily be understood, I will explain it
thus in German."^ There then follows a long discussion, in-

Also various lelleis, more especially th-e one addressed tci the Strassburgers of dale
Dec, IJ24 (see also his opinions about the "Bohemians") with the^mous sentence:
" I confess that if Carlstadt or any one else had corrected me live years ago by showing
that in the Sacrament there is nothing but bread and wine he would have done me a.
gleat service. . . . But I am taken captive ani! cannot escape ; the text is too
powerful, and no words can drive it from my mind." What first brought Zwingli
into the Eucharist controversy was his letter to Alber (Nov., 1524). Then followed
his " Commenlarius," his " Klare Undetrichtung ' (1526), his "Amica exegesis"
{1527), the " Friindlich Verglimpfung " (friendly persuading to believe) "that these
words shall have eternally the old sense" (1527). Letters and writings of the theo-
Ic^ians in south-west Germany played an important part in the controversy. The
greatest weight attaches to the treatise of (Ecolampadius "de genuina verborum
dotnini, etc, expositione liber." Zwingli regarded the "est" in the words of instilu-
tioQ as being — "it signifies," took John VI. as a commentary on the words of institu-
tion, allowed therefore only a symbolical explanation of the body and blood of Christ
in the sacrament, displayed no assurance and decision in conceiving of the sacrament as.
s peculiar mode of giving form to the "Word," thought of the observance substantial ly
as sacrificial (nota ecclesife, recollection) and yet allowed himself to be led by Luther
into the Scholastic -Chtistological rt^on, where he not only won no iaurels by his
doctrinaire conception of the two-nature doctrine and his separation of the natures
in a way approaching Nestorianism, but betrayed a remarkable lack of religious insight
into the problem, together with a wonderful reliance on the significance of sophialic-
Bcholastic formulje. The theologians of south-west Germany, so fer as they did not,
with Bren^, adhere to Luther, spoke in favour of a mystical conception of the
Eucharist, which united the defects ot the Lutheran with the defects of the Zwinglian
conception, and was afterwards embraced by Calvin and Melanchthon. But
CEcolampadius did excellent service with his account of the Patristic doctrine.

1 Bek. v. Abendmahl (XXX., p. 207 if.). How diiferenlly he still expresses hira-
aelf in the treatise of the year 1519 (XXVIL, p. 38) : "There are some who exercise
their skill and ingenuity in trying to see where the brea 1 remains when it is changed

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 265

tended to give further proof of the possibility and certainty of the
presence of Christ's body in the Eucharist So this Scholasticism
is requisite in order to establish the Christian faith P In
following this course he became more and more involved in the
Catholic view, that the Eucharist must be conceived of as the
parallel to and guarantee for the Incarnation.^ This comes out
most distinctly in the last of his writings, where it is at the
same time apparent how, as the consequence of holding his
doctrine of the Eucharist, the evangelical .saving faith became
for Luther resolved into "parts," although he made efforts to
avoid this result.^

into Christ's flesh, antl the wine into his hlood. Also how the whole Christ can be
included under so small a portion of bread and wine. It is of no consequence if tbon
dost not seek to undeiEland that ; it is enough for ihee to know that it is a divine
sign that Christ's flesh and blood are truly present ; let the how and the where be
left to Him."

' From this point the Lutheran doctrine of the communicatio idiomatum then look

■i Undoubtedly Zwlngli with his Nestoiianism led him on this track.

s Karzes Bekenntniss, p. 413 r " Oh dear man ! if any one will not believe the
article on the Eucharist, how will he ever believe the arlide on (he humatiity and
deity of Chfist in one person ? And if it stiuables thee that thou ahouldat receive
with thy moulh the body of Christ when thou eatest the bread from the altar . . .
it must surely stumble thee much more (especially when the hour comes) that the
infinite and incomprehensible deity, who in His essence Is and must be everywhere,
should be shut up and eticlosed in humanity and in the Virgin's body. . . . And
how is it possible for thee to believe how ihe Son alone should have become man, not
the Father nor the Holy Ghosl, since the thre« Persons are nothing but the one God
in the supremely one being and nature of the one Goilhead. , , . Oh, how they
shall most of all giovi enciled and reel and make their voices heard, when they
come to this 1 Here they will find somethinE to explain, as indeed I hear that they
already march about confidently and courageously with their Eutychianism and
Nestorianism, For that was my thought, and I have staled it (00, that this is what
they roust come to ; the devil cannot go on holiday when he has made one heresy, he
must make more, and no error remains alone. When the ring is severed at one place
it is no more a ring, it no longer holds together, but goes on breaking. And although
they make a great ado about their believing this article on Christ's person and have
many words about it, believe them not, they are assuredly liars in all that they say of
it. . . . The Turk glories in the name of God, but when they die they find who their
Uod is. For it is cerLain of every one who does not rightly believe an article, ox will
not believe it, that he believes no article seriously. . . . Hence the word must be, a
belief of all, pure and complete, whole and en tire, or a belief of nothing. The Holy
Ghost does not allow himself to be severed or divided, sa that ht should let one part
be taught and betiened truly and another falsely. "

IIISTORV OF DOGMA, [CHAP. IV.

It was not enough that it should be merely asserted that the
true body is in the Eucharist, if this proposition was to describe
a miraculous, external fact, that holds good even apart from
faith. It was necessary to show Iioiu the corporeal Christ is
present and is partaken of in the Eucharist. Here also Luther
adopted hypothetical speculations of the Nominalists.' The
whole Christ is in the elements ; but the elements are not tran-
substantiated ; neither is there a mingling of the elements with
Christ; nor again are the two merely side by side, unconnected
and apart ; both remain what they are, but are as perfectly
blended in their properties (idiomata) as Godhead and humanity
are blended in the incarnation. Accordingly when Melanch-
thon went to Cassel to hold conferences with Butzer (1534)
Luther could give him the following instruction : " That in and
with the bread the body of Christ is truly partaken of, that
accordingly all that takes place actively and passively in the
bread takes place actively and passively in the body of Christ,
that the latter is distributed, eaten and masticated with the
teeth."^ The most objectionable thing here was, that while,
according to Luther, the body and blood of Christ were present
in the Eucharist only for enjoyment,^ the unbeliever and the
heathen were also to receive them. Thereby there was again
introduced the Catholic doctrine of the Sacrament, with its dis-
tinction between the "objecli-ve" significance of the Sacrament,
and the saving influence in the Sacrament. But at the same time
there was in point of fact a restoration through this separation
of faith in the efficacy of the Sacrament ex opere operato. It
is not to be wondered at that thereafter, in later Lutheranism,
this faith took the form of a reliance on the objective SacramenL

1 See abqve. Vol., VI., p, 238. In a. treatise as early as the lie captivitate babyl.,
Luther indicates tliat Occam's doctrine of consubslantiation was known to him, and
that he was inclined to favour it, without however attaching weight as yet to the
question of the modus of the presence.

'As early as in the " Beltenntniss " ( 1528) he vindicated the opponents of Eereogar
(XXX,, p. 297): "Therefore the enthusiasts ate wrong, as is also the gloss in the
ecclesiastical law, when they blame Pope Nicolas for forcing upon Berengar a con-
fession that he enclosed and masticated with his teeth the real body of Chriat.
Would to God that all Popes had acted in all matters in as Christian a way I"

' Hence no adoration of the Sacrament ; see the Treatise of the year 1523.

CHAP. IV.] THE CATHOLIC ELEMENT. 265

On the other hand there was a reintroducing in this way of the
"awful mystery" (mysterium tremendum) for faith. Whether
the effect was indifference or awe of mystery, in both cases the
original thought connected with the sacred observance, and the
Evangelical view of it, became obscured.

Only with regard to one point Luther himself stood firm, or
at least only touched on a view that was foreign to him, and
that was the certainty that what is contemplated in the whole
observance is only ike forgiveness of sins} Yet what he touched
on, others, though not quite at the beginning, emphasised more
strongly. That is not to be wondered at If it is to be of
fundamental importance for this observance that Christ is
present here, not for faith merely, but corporeally, then a
presence of such a kind — the receiving of the bodily Christ —
must have also a specific effect. But in what else can this effect
be found than in the incorruptible ness of the body of Christ, the
enjoyment of which makes our bodies in a mysterious way in-
corruptible, or in a mystical union with Christ, which is some-
thing still higher than the forgiveness of sins and adoption ?

Owing to the way in which Luther conceived of the doctrine of
the Eucharist he involved himself in responsibility for the fact,
that in its Christology, in its doctrine of the sacraments, in its
doctrinairism and in the falseness of the standard by which it
judged of divergent doctrines and pronounced them heresies, the
later Lutheran Church threatened to become a miserable
doublette of the Catholic Church. That this was an impending
danger for this Church, and that even yet it has not been
altogether averted, no one of insight can fail to see. If we look
at the Christianity of Luther and compare it with Catholic
Christianity, we observe that what separates them is real ; the
link that binds them together consists only in words. But if we
look at Lutheranism in the form in which it developed itself —
not without Luther's influence — from the second half of the six-
teenth century, it must be said that in many important parti-
culars it is only by words that it is separated from Catholicism,
while what unites them is reality ; for Catholicism is not the

iThe rudimenls of anolher view have been pointed out by Koatlin and olheis ;
Loofs(l.c., 2nded.,p. 253) reters (o Erlang. Ed, XXX., p. 93 f., 116 ff., 125, 141.

266 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAf. IV.

Pope, neither U it the worship of saints or the mass, but it is the
slavish dependence on tradition and the false doctrines of Sacra-
ment, of repentance and of faith.

In the theology of Melanchthon, who stands beside Luther
the evangelist as the teacher of Ethics, we find the attempts to
correct Luther's theology, and Melanchthon, moreover, was
guided at every point by the endeavour, first, to secure the
freedom, responsibility and seriousness of moral effort that were
threatened by the religious quietism that could arise, and, as is.
well known, did arise from Luther's doctrine; secondly, to
strenffthen in accordance with this the bond uniting religion and
morality; thirdly, to prevent the rise of the sacramentarianism
that is akin to religious quietism. These honest and salutary
aims, which brought him closer to Calvin, and in themselves,
contained a tendency to bind together all evangelicals in a
powerful practical sympathy, were not asserted with energy by
Melanchthon in points of decisive importance ; he was no pro-
phet, — he rather feit himself hampered by the demand made
upon him to be the guardian of Lutheranisin, and the Lutherans
are not to be reproached if in the first instance they were more
disposed to go astray with the heroic Luther than to be kept in
the leading strings of the faint-hearted Melanchthon, Besides
this, the humanistic impulses by which, in addition to those of a
religious kind, Melanchthon allowed himself to be influenced,,
were instinctively felt ,to be something foreign, requiring to be
excluded. So at lirst Lutheranism repelled " Philippism," the
founder of which was never popular. It had to pay dearly for
this renunciation, and thereafter to learn Melanchthonian truths
by a long and bitter discipline. Yet it may be made a question
whether that renunciation in the sixteenth century was a misfor-
tune. Would Luther's notion of faith have continued to be
maintained in a Lutheran-Philippistic Church? and was the
powerful practical exercise of faith in the Germany of that day
placed under restriction merely from following a one-sided
development of doctrine ? was it not above all held in check by

CHAP. IV.] CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS. 267

the wretched ecclesiasticism and the general pohtical situation ?
is there a substantial difference, then, between the Philippistic
National Churches of Germany and the Lutheran, and was the
development, always becoming more one-sided, of evangelical
religion into quietistic doctrine and sacrament-faith, not itself
an effect of the restrictive elements in the situation ? These
questions must certainly be an.swered in the affirmative ; but
nevertheless the Lutheran Church had to pay dearly for turning
away from " legal righteousness," " sacrifice," and " satisfactions."
Through having the resolute wish to go back to religion and to
it alone, it neglected far too much the moral problem, the " Be
ye holy, for I am holy."

5. Concluding Observations.

In the four preceding sections (p. 168 ff!) — an attempt has been
made to state as clearly as possible Luther's attitude towards
the Catholic tradition and the old dogma. Our task has not
been to describe Luther's theology in tiie whole breadth of its
development. The more difficult problem had to be solved of
bringing out the significance of Luther — and thereby of the
Reformation— within 'Cat. history of dogma} It has been shown,
I hope, that Luther (the Reformation) represents an issue of the
history of dogma as much as, in other ways, Post-Tridentine
Catholicism and Socinianism. We cannot be made uncertain
about this judgment by what has been brought to view in the
fourth section ; for it has been shown that the new view of the
gospel taken by Luther forms a complete wliole^ and that the elements
of the old which he retained are not in accord with this whole, nay^
that at all points at which he allowed what was Catholic to remain,
he at the same time himself indicated tlie main features of a new
structure.

This complete whole, however, which he outlined with a firm
hand, rises superior, not merely to this "or that particular dogma,.
but to dogmatic Christianity in its entirety: Cliristianity is

' Compare Bei^et, D[e Kulturaufgaben lier Reformation, Einleitung in cine
Luthei biographic, 1895.

268 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

something else than a sum of traditional doctrines. Christianity
is not Biblical Theology, nor is it the doctrine of the Councils ;
but it is the spirit which the Father of Jesus Christ awakens in
hearts through the Gospel. All authorities which support
dogma are abolished ; how then can dogma maintain itself as
infallible doctrine; but what, again, is a dogma without in-
fallibility? Christian doctrine establishes its rights only for
faith ; what share, then, can philosophy still have in it? but
what, again, are dogma and dogmatic Christianity without
philosophy ? Of course one can appeal here to Luther against
Luther, yet only in the same way in which one can raise up
Augustine to reply to Augustine, and in the same way in which
every genius can easily be made away with when a rope to
despatch him has been twisted out of his imperfections and out
of what he shared with his age. The history of dogma comes
to a close with Luther. Any one who lets Luther be Luther,
and regards his main positions as the valuable possession of the
evangelical church— who does not merely tolerate them, that is
to say, under stress of circumstances (per angustias temporum)
— has the !ofty title and the strict obligation to conclude the
history of dogma with him.^ How can there be a history of

1 In the tteatraent of Ihe history of dogma from a universal historical point of view
Zwingli may be left out of account. Anything good that was said by him as the
Reformer, in the way of criticising the hierarchy and with regard to the fundamental
nature of the new piety, is to he found in him as it is to he found in Luther, and his
ariiving at greater clearness regarding it he owed to Luther. The poiots in which he
diverged from Luther belong to the hislory of Protestant theology. There were many
particulars which he understood how to express more lucidly than Lulher, and many
negations of the traditional were more definitely shaped by him. But he was not
lesH doctrinaire than Lulher; he had that quality rather in a higher degree;
and he did not always make a beneficial use, for the system of faith,
of his fine Humanistic perceptions. Calvin, again, is, as a theologian, an
Epigone of Lulher. — These sentences of the 1st edition— into which at one point
a. little more piecision is introduced — have been objected to by several critics ;
Dilthey in particular has espoused the cause of Zwingli and Calvin in his articles
referred to above (Archiv. f. Gesch. d. Philos., Vol, V., p. 367 ff. : Ueber Zwingli's
religiiis-universellen Theismus, p. 374 ff. : Zwingli's ErgSniung der ausschliesslich
religiosen Moral des Urchristenthums durch sittlich-politische Belhaligui^ ond
Bedeuiung dieser That fiir die Umgesla-ltung Europas, Vol VI., p. 119 ff. ; Zwingli's
Schrift de providentia und der Einlluss der Stoa auf seine Lehre, die sich als Panen-
theismus, Delerminismus und die Schronken der pusitiven Religion iibersteigenden
leligiiisen Universalismus darstellt, Vol. VI., p. 523 IT. : L'eber die Bedeutung der

CHAI'. IV.] CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS. 269

rfogma in Protestantism after Luther's Prefaces to the New
Testament, and after his great Reformation writings? A
history there has been of work carried on with a view to a right
understanding of the Gospel, and for about 150 years this work
was prosecuted within the lines and forms of the old dogma.
But how do I go years count for the Church ! The Roman
Church needed more than 300 years to advance from the
Tridentine to the Vatican Decrees, and how little apparently was
required even about 1550 to bring the Vatican formula within
reach ! But Protestantism— some one objects — had a creed-
constructing period ; during that period it gave expression to its
Schrift ZwingU's de vera et &lsa religiooe. Vol. VI., p. 528 ff. 1 Fundameolale und
epochemachende Bedeulung von Calvin's Inslitutio als synlhetische Entwickiung des
ganzen religiosen Stofis aus dem Wirken Gottes auf den Menschen nach dera in
seinem Ralhschluss entha.!lenen ZusnaimenhaDg seiner Functionem). Yet aflersome
hesitation I fee] that I must adhere to my position and place the two Reformers out-
side the boundary lines which I regard as serviceable foi the history of dogma.
About these lines there is room for discussion j but if they are correctly drawn, Calvin
at any rate must be left out of view, for there can be no dispute about his being an
Epigone. But he is to be described as such, not merely when the chief dogma of
justification is placed at the basis of his teaching — as Dilthey asserts — but as regards
the whole sum of what presents itself to view in the new and higher kind of personal
religion, of which Luther had the experience, and to which Luther had given expres-
sion, before Calvin (including all important points of theological doctrine). That he
possessed the incomparable faculty of creating out of this a system, and a principle that
enteied powerfully into the institutions of life and revolutionised them, will be denied
by no one, and so in the history of the Church, and in the general histoiy of the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, he stands in some respects on a level with Luther
and in some respects aliove him ; but in the hislory of dogma he stands beside
Melanchthor, though certainly in the power to shape doctrine he far excelled him.
But as regards Zwingli, Dilthey has taught nne anew that the conceptions in respect
of which he distinctly and throughout differs from Luther characterise him, not as
the Reformer, but as the thinker and theolopan, while at the same time these con-
ceptions are not specially- original and did little in determining the nature and course
of Reformation wsrk in the period following. Of couise in this question a value-
judgment is partly at work : what worth are we to attach to the determinism, or, say,
the Pane n theism of Zwingli and, again, to bis Humanistic religious universalism 7
My opinion is that we may regard history as teaching us here that these did not
become decisive factors in the great ecclesiastical course of development. So far, on
the other hand, as they unquestionably contain elements that must be taken account
of if a tenable Christian theory 0/ Ike -world is to be fiamed — for such a theory cannot
be obtained merely Irom the isolated individual experience of faith that is in accord
with I'auline- Lutheran principles — the problems for solving which they furnish the
guidint; lines lielong to the Philosophy of Religion. The elements in Zwingli which
Dilthey brings to view show that he stands 00 the line, partly of Sebastian Franck,

S70

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV,

faith as dogma; this period accordingly must also be included
within the history of dogma. To this the reply must be: (i)
^alj Lutheran Symbols, with the exception of the Form of
Concord, were not thought of at all originally as being symbols
in the sense of being regulative doctrinal forms, but were only
raised to the position of symbols at a later period, and that
position, moreover, was always given to them only by a section
of Lutheran Protestants,^ (2) it was not the Lutkeran Church
that turned them into symbols, but the Empire (1555) and the
Princes, the latter having it specially in view to check the
■quarrelsomeness of theologians, (3) it is as little the case that
there have ever been Lutheran Symbols by which all Lutherans
'have been bound, as that there have ever been Reformed
-Symbols by which all the Reformed have been united into
■one, (4), the breach with belief- ace ording-to-symbol within
Protestantism which has taken place in the 1 8th and 19th
centuries, can be described by no one as a breach with the
Reformation, and as a matter of fact even the modern orthodoxy
of our days judges the breach very mildly, knowing as it does

parti; of Me1a.iic)itIiDD (inasmucli as he also was a Cicecoiilan), partly of mediffival
reformers like Wydif. Nothing is less con temp] a.ted in this criticism than a dis-
paragement of the Ziitich Reformer ; it will always continue, rather, to he the most
noteworthy providential arrangement in the history of the Reformation, that the new
knowledge of God made its appearance simultaneously, and in an essentially
independent way, in Luther and in the brave Swiss. It is evident that as regards
being fiee and unprejudiced, Zwingli in many respects surpassed Luther (his
divergencies from Luther were hy no means merely due to medieval motives, they
are rather to be traced as much to the ideas of an advancing age), and that he had
also a greater faculty for direct organising action, though this last is not to be
regarded simply as a product of his religious force. Who will he disposed to estimate
in the history of Protestantism what he owes to Luther and what to Zwingli and
Calvin? Without the two latter Protestantism might perhaps have ceased
altogether to exist 1 Or what an unspeakably poor fonu it might have assumed I
On Zwingli cf. the Histories of Dogma "by Loofs and Thomasius-Seeberg. A. Baur,
ZwingU's Theol., 2 vols., 1885 ff. Zeller, Das theol. System Z.'s, tSsj. Sigwait,
u. Zwingli, der Character s. Theol. u. s. w., t8S5. Usteri, Zwingli u. Erasmus,
1889. R. Stahelin, Huldr. Zwingli, Leben u. Wirken, istvoL, 1895.

' In what a dim light the Augsburg Confession appears when it is contemplated as
the symbol of Lulheranism ; but what an excellent historic record it is, when the
estimate formed of it corresponds with wliat alone it intends itself to be — a statement,
in view of opponents, milicating how much harmony with them still exists in spile of
the new elements.

CHAP. IV.] CO^■CLUDING OBSERVATIONS. 2?!

that it has itself drifted too far away from the symbols.^ If
these statements are correct,^ then the " creed -constructing
period" during whicK the "Lutheran Church" declared its
" definitive will " is a fable convenue. "This Lutheran Church
has never existed at all as an outward whole, and the spokesmen
of the strictest ' Lutheran party ' have been precisely the worst
enemies of such a unification. . . But those who have crowded
around the Book of Concord have always been merely a section,
though a strong one, of the Lutheran Church, and even among
them it has been regarded as a doctrinal law only for particular
national churches." But even though this plain historical fact did
not admit of being established, yet the opinion would remain
true, that the period of the Epigones was not the period of the
classic formulation of the evangelical faith, but a noteworthy
episode.^ If one should wish to hold another opinion, he would

' This does not prevent it placing before ils cpponents in an entirely arbitrary way
this or thai portiqn of the Creeds, which it regards itself as slill adhering to, as
outwaidty authoritative, while silence, however, is regularly maintained as to its
having no wish whatever to deaJ similarly with other portions.

s A very lucid account of things has been given by K. Miiller in the Preuss. Jahtbb.,
Vol. 63, Part z : '■ Die Symlxile des Lutherthums." Observe in particular the very
excellent concluding words, p. 146 S. Ritschl's dissertation on the Rise of the
Lutheran Church (Ztschr. fiir K.-Gesch., I., p. gi S., IL, p. 366 ff.J is of funda-
mental importance, yet in my opinion the variance of view between Luther and
MelanchthoQ is overdrawn here.

s Mtlller, I.e. : " According to the testimony of its own Fathers, the Church of the
Refonnalion wishes Co be regarded as in the first instance a religious, not a legal,
magnitude. As religious, however, it cannot find its unity guaranteed hy external
arrangements of a legal character, but only by the distinctive religious possession
which was the basis of its origination and once for all indicated to it its course. But
that can never hold good of particular writings, however high they may stand in the
estimation of believers. On the soil of the Reformation that holds good simply of the
view of Christianity witnessed to by these and numerous other writings, i.e., of the
gospel. But through the influence mainly of Melanchthon the gospel lost ils
original practical -religious character, and, by means derived from a religious age that
had been transcended, it was made the subject of theologico-philosophic know-
ledge, and was rent into pans and in some measure perverted. The period of the
Epigones, again, rapidly brought this stage to completion (Melanchthon himself not
being without blame for this), and in a course of development which constantly
repeats itself in the history of Chrialianily imposed the products of that theological
activity on the Church of the Reformation as a law of faith." But this Church
distinguishes itself from the Catholic Church in this, that it possesses the capacity
and the means — I should Lke to continue always without doubt of this — to cast off
again the law that has been imposed on it.

2;2

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

[CHAP. IV.

require, not only to think of the i8th and igth centuries as the
period of the Church's apostasy from the Reformation, but also
to blot out Luther's Christianity; for that Christianity cannot
be forced into the scholastic theology of the symbols. Hence
there are only the two things possible, either to conclude the
history of dogma with Luther's Reformation, or to attach to it,
as a second part, the history of Protestant theology down to the
present day. But this enormous supplement would be some-
thing quite different from history of dogma, because while what
would be dealt with in it at the beginning would certainly seem
extremely like the old dogma, it would appear as we proceeded
that the question was rather about understanding the gospel in
opposition to dogma. It would come to view that even Pietism
and Rationalism had a requisite share in the development of
this understanding, that the understanding was materially
developed at important points by Zinzendorf and Wesley, that
it was most powerfully promoted by Schleiermacher, and that
it grew in many respects even within the Pietistic-Confessional
reaction of the ipth century. It would appear, finally, that
in his description of the gospel, the most disdainfully treated
theologian of the age — Ritschl — has given expression in a
powerful way — though within the limitations that belong to
every individual — to the outcome of two hundred years' work on
the part of evangelical theology in endeavouring to understand
the Reformation, and to the products of criticism of doctrinaire
Lutheran ism.

^^^^^ up in the <
^^^H reduced tt

The Gospel entered into the world, not as a doctrine, but as a
joyful message and as a power of the Spirit of God, originally
in the forms of Judaism. It stripped off these forms with
amazing rapidity, and united and amalgamated itself with Greek
science, the Roman Empire and ancient culture, developing, as
a counterpoise to this, renunciation of the world and the striving
after supernatural life, after deification. All this was summed
up in the old dogma and in dogmatic Christianity. Augustine
reduced the value of this dognnatic structure, made it subservient

CHAR IV.] CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS. 273

to a purer and more living conception of religion, but yet finally-
left it standing so far as its foundations and aim were concerned.
Under his direction there began in the Middle Ages, from the
Iith century, an astonishing course of labour; the retrograde
steps are to a large extent only apparent, or are at least counter-
balanced by great steps of progress. But no satisfying goal is
reached ; side by side with dogma, and partly in opposition to
it, exists a practical piety and religious self-criticism, which
points at the same time forwards and backwards — to the Gospel,
but ever the more threatens to vanish amid unrest and languor.
An appallingly powerful ecclesiasticism is taking shape, which
has already long held in its possession the stolid and indifferent,
and takes control of the means whereby the restless may be
soothed and the weary gathered in. Dogma assumes a rigid
aspect; it is elastic only in the hands of political priests ; audit
is seen to have degenerated into sophistry ; faith takes its flight
from it, and leaves the old structure to the guardians of the
Church. Then appeared Luther, to restore the " doctrine," on
which no one any longer had an inward reliance. But the
doctrine which he restored was the Gospel as a glad message
and as a power of God. That this was what it was, he also
pronounced to be the chief, nay the only, principle of theology.
What the Gospel is must be ascertained from Holy Scripture ;
the power of God cannot be construed by thought, it must be
experienced ; the failk in God as the Father of Jesus Christ,
which answers to this power, cannot be enticed forth by reason
or authority; it must become a part of one's life; all that is not
born of faith is alien to the Christian religion and therefore also
to Christian theology — all philosophy, as well as all asceticism.
Matthew XI. 27 is the basis of faith and of theology. In giving
effect to these thoughts, Luther, the most conservative of men,
shattered the ancient church and set a goal to the history of
dogma. That history has found its goal in a return to the
gospel. He did not in this way hand over something complete
and finished to Christendom, but set before it a problem, to be
developed out of many encumbering surroundings, to be
continuously dealt with in connection with the entire life of the
spirit and with the social condition of mankind, but to be solved

274 HISTORY OF DOGMA. [CHAP. IV.

only in faith itself. Christendom must constantly go on to
learn, that even in religion the simplest thing is the most
difficult, and that everything that is a burden upon religion
quenches its seriousness (" a Christian man's business is not to
talk grandly about dogmas, but to be always doing arduous and
great things in fellowship with God " ^ Zwingli). Therefore the
goal of all Christian work, even of all theological work, can only
be this — to discern ever more distinctly the simplicity and the
seriousness of the gospel, in order to become ever purer and
stronger in spirit^ and ever more loving and brotherly in action.

1 '' Christiani hominis est non de dogmatis magnifica loqui, sed cum deo ardua
semper et magna facere."

FINIS.

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. L-VIL'

Aachen, Synod of, V., 289,
304.

Abelard, I., 24; V., 125; VI.,
28, 32 ff., 3; ff., 52, 78 f., 152,
182, 187, 190, 202, 244, 277.

Abercius, II., 15, 156, 158.

Abgar, I., 163.

Abraham, II., 308; III., 28.

Absolution, v. Penitence (Pen-
ance).

Acceptants, VI., 98.

Acceptatio, VI., 196 f., 308 ff.

Adam, I., 105, 307, 309, 315 ;
IL, 269 f., 273 ff., 284, 288,
290, 292; III., 106 ff., 263,
272 f., 303, 335 ff. ; IV., 84,
124, 141, 153 ff-. 169, 172,
177; v., 49. 57. 197 f-. 213
ff., 231, 247 f.; VI., 297 f.,
301 ff. ; VII., 59, 142, 200 f.

Adaniantius(jj. Pseudo-Origen),
I., 266; II., 251, 291 ; III.,
104.

Adelmann of Brixen, VI., 52.

Adiaphorites, IV., 240.

Adoptians and Adoptianism,
I,, 120, 191-195 passim, 197 ;
III., 13 ff., 20 ff,(Rom.)5o,
56, 62, 69, 74, 112, 132 ; IV.,
I f.> 6, 19, 39. 70. 363 ; v.,
54 f., 278 ff; VI., 14, 45,
187 f, 133; VII., 136, 165.
' This index was piepared for ihe

Adoptian Chriatology, Old, I.,
80 f., 104, 183, 191-199,308
f.; II., 2S4 f., 372; III., 5,
13-15 passim.

Ad sanctam Petri scdem, VII.,

95 f-

.(Edesius, I., 355.

^gidius, VI., 169.

-Eneas of Paris, V., 308,

.^ons, cf. Gnostics, I., § 6, pp.
224, 246, 257 f., 267; II.,
248, 258, 266; III., 9, 63,
70, 323 f., 348, 251 f. ; IV..
307.

.^quiprobabilism, VII., 105,
108.

Aerius, III., igr.

.(Eschines (Montanist), III., 53.

vEsculapius, Cult of, I,, iiS

147.
A-etius, III., 243; IV., 6 f., IS,

42, 74, 75 f. 79 f-, 285, 333 ;

v. 171.
Aetius of Lydda, IV., 4.
African Church v. Carthage.
Agap^, II,, 143.
Agapetus, IV., 243.
Agatho, III.,94, 148, 157; IV.,

260.
Agelius, IV., 105.
hyevtiTo^ and ayvivvtiTOi, IV.,

12 f.

jewwrf edition of the original work.
275

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

a;6

Agnoets, IV., 239, 353, 290.
Agobard, v., 376, 292, 307 f.
Agricola, VII., 11, 254.
Agricola, Pelagian, V., 181.
Ailli, VII.. 264.
Akacius of Antioch, IV,, 64,

74 f.. 79 f.. 90.
Akaciusof Constantinople, IV.,

228.
Akephali, IV., 237.
Akoimet^e, IV., 231.
AktistetiE, IV., 24a
Alaric, v., 175.
AlbertuH Magnus, VI., 23, 97,

185, 190, 210, 224, 232, 242,

262, 30 !.
Albigensians, VI., 92, 136.
Alcibiades, Confessor, II., 108.
Alcibiades, Elkesaite, I., 305,

313-
Alcuin, v., 275 f., 2S3 f, 287 ff.,

302 fF., 305 f..3ll; VI., 55,

187; VII., 15,228.
Alexander 11., Pope, VI., 16,

18.
Alexander III., Pope, VI., 16,

21, 38, 128, 188, 302.
Alexander VII., Pope, VI.,

301 f. ; VII.. 95 f., iOS f.
Alexander VIII., Pope, VII.,

77, IOS, 108.
Alexander of Hales, VI,, 190,

219, 221, 222 f., 236, 245,

349 f., 252,255, 263 f.
Alexander of Aelia, II., 322.
Alexander of Abonoteichus,

I., 239.
Alexander of Alexandria, II.,

237 ; III., 48, 97, 113, 116;

II., 168, 195; IV., 8fF., II f.,

2 iff., 29, 32, 50, 56, 140, 315,
Alexander of Jerusalem, II.,

131.321-

Alexander of Constantinople,
III., 116; IV., 9, 63.

Alexander Severu.'i, 11., 16S.

Alexander (Valentinian) I,,
241 ; II., 278; III., 114.

Alexandria, Patriarchate of,
III.. 323, 224, 236 ff.; IV^
96, 183 f., 190 f. 201, 208,
209 f., 224, 225, 227 fF., 252,
343-

Alexandria, Synods of, IV., 9,
83 fF., 8g, 114, 118, 157, 186.

Alexandrians, Christian, I.
250, 300; II., II ff., 17, 32
ff-, 56, 59, 71 f., 150 f., 164 £,
253, 281, 286, 299 f,, 321;

III., 6, 26, 48, 92, 152, 30I,

207, 213, 246, 271, 294, 301 ;

IV., 139, 174 ff., 208, and

Chap. 111., 247, 352 f., 279

ff ; v., 80.
Alexandrian School of Cate-

chists, II., 319-332; III-, 95.

99, IIS-
Alexandrianism, Jewish, I., 53

ff, 104, 107 ff., 123, 154, 156,

323 f. ; II., 175.
Alger of Liittich, VI., 52.
Allegorism, I., 99 F., 222 f., 255

f, 367, 341 ; II., 44, 63 £,

250 ff., 299 f. ; III., 199.
Alms, II., 134; v., 209, 229,

326 ; VI., 258 f , 299.
Alogi, I., 193; II., 42, 100,

106. 152, 299, 321 ; III., 9,

14 fF., 60.
Altar, IV., 314.
Altercatio Jasonis, I., 189, 192.
Alvar, v., 292.
Alvar Pelagius, VI., 125.
Alypins,III.,33; V., 53-
Amalrich of Bena, VI., 136,

179.

^ :

FOR VOI^. I.-VII. 277

Amandiis, IV., 258.

Anglo-S=ixons, V., 275, 277,

Ambrosiaster, 111., 80, 83; V.,

32s; VI., ill.

30, 38 ff. 45 f., 49 ff.

Anicctug, 11,, 163.

Ambrose, 1., 236 ; II., 118, 235,

Anointing, v. Confirmation and

29s; 111., 80, 12S, 130, 150

IV., 277.

f, 189, 202, 224, 247, 262,

AnomcEans, IV. 74 «"-. 77-

265, 307. 312 ff.; IV., 93,

Anselm, III., 296, 311 ; VI.,

101, 103, 105, 132. 145. "84.

28, 32, 36 f , 42, 45, 52, 54-

203, 239, 312, 315 ; v., 28-

78, 108, 153, 157, 178 f., 182,

33, 48-51. S3 f-. 56 f., 190,

186 f., 190 ff., 197, 277, 300,

235,282,319; VI., 74.

303 f., 304, 312,

Amelius, I., 348, 353.

Anselm of Lucca, VI., 18, n8.

Ammonius Sakkas, I., 125,

Anthimiis of Constantinople,

348, 358; III., 89.

IV., 243-

Amolo, v., 296.

Anthropology, III., 255 ff.

Anabaptists, II., 100, 122; of

Anthropomorphism, II., 255,

the Reformation Period,

349; III.. 200 '., 247; IV..

VII.. 13, 118 ff., 124 f., i6s,

2S,338ff

236 ff., 249.

Antichrist. I., 140, 296 f. ; II.,

Anaclete II., Pope. VI.. 135.

187; IV., 21 ; v., 26+

Anastasius, Emperor, IV., 328

Antigno.stic doctrine, 11., 304

fr.; III., 26.

Anastasius, Pope, IV., 342.

Antilegomena, 11., 59, 62; III.,

Anastasius, Presbyter. IV., 181.

■97.

Anastasius Sinaita, 111.. 108,

Antinomism, I., 262 f.

236,259; IV., 251,300.

Antiochene School, III., 147,

Anatolius of Constantinople,

152 f.. 154, 1S6, 191, 200 fr..

IV., 209, 212 f., 215 f , 224 f.

20Sf., 207,213, 250,264,279

Anaxagoras, V., 191.

(1,298. 302, 31s; IV, 3 ff,

Anaximander, V., 191.

49, ISO, IS9, 165 ft, 184 £.

Anaximenes. V., 191.

188 ff, 215, 224,235, 244 fr.

Ancyra, Synod of. 11., 122;

247t, 252 f, 279 f, 345,347;

IV., 76 f; 89 f.

V, 27.

Angels, I., 102, 180, 190. 197,

Antiochene Symbols, IV., 56,

246 f. 302 f.. 306; II., 209,

64 f, 67, 69 ff, 77. I "•

213, 278. 359 ff"-. 366; 111.,

Antiochene Schi.sm, III., 225 ;

188, 248, 251 ff., 278, 298;

IV., 84, 89, 91.

IV., 305, 306 f., 311; V.,132,

Antiochene Church and Pa-

263ff. i VI., 58, 186.

triarchate, II., 56, 125, 152,

."Xngel as description of Christ,

167 : III., 39, 196, 223, 227

1.. 185.

f. ; IV., I9i, 225, 344.

Angel, Guardian, IV., 311 ; V.,

Antioch, School of, III, 26,

263.

50,

378

Antioch, Synods of, HI., 94,
216, 222, 230 ; IV., 2, 5, 55
f,, 62, 64 ff.. 69, 76, 8s, 90,
118, 158 ; v., 1S8.

Antiquity, Notion of Ecclesi-
astical, III,, 219.

Antitheses, I., 270, 285.

Antitrinitarians of the Re-
formation Period, VII., 13,
118-137, 137 ff, 178.

Antonius Melissa, VI., 223.

Antonius, Monk, III., 1 26,
141 ; IV., 313 ; V,, 263.

Apelles, I., 255 f., 257 f., 259,
261,266 ff.; II., 90, 251.

Aphraates, I., 157 ; 11., 17, 37
f. ; III., 50, 104; IV., 58.

Aphthartodocetism, I., 260 ;
IV., 178, 337 f., 244,251,286,
299.

Apocalypse of John, I., 83, 87
{., 104, 166, 177, 193, 29s ;
II., 50, 95, 107, 294 ff., 299 ;
III., 16, 78, 105, 112, 187,
196 f., 198; v., 152 f.; VII.,
24.

Apocalypse of Peter, !., loi,
167.

Apocalypses, I., 100 f, 104 f.,
IIS, 155. i6o> 168 f., 173 f:,
179, 240 ; II., 40, 55 f., 65,
297, 300, 317; HI., 197 ;
IV., 107.

Apocalyptic hopes, I., 78, 100
f., 167 ff,, 223 ff. ; VI., 112, V.
also Chiliasm and Prophets.

Apocryphal Acts of the
Apostles, I., 163, 193, 240,
253, 308, 312 ff. ; 11., 48, 82.

Apocryphal Gospels, I., 161,
193, 203.

Apocrypha, HI,, 198: IV., 304;
VII., 41.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Apokatastasis, II., 275 ; III,,

186, 189,298; VII., 12S, 131.
ApoUinaris of Hierapolis, II.,

52 ; III., 219.
ApoUinaris of Laodicea, III.,
34. 138, 146, 151, 165, 182,

187, 202, 219, 301, 306; IV.,
37, 59,84,88,91, 119, 123 f.,
145, 147, 149-163, and in
Chap. III. frequently, 264,
266, 2S6, 335, 340, 351; v.,
96.

Apollinarists, III., 185, 221 ;
IV.,i50,i57f.,i74,i79,242;
v., 128.
Apollonius of Tyana, I., 12a
Apologists, I., 126, 136, 170,
176, 180, 186, 188; ir.,6ff.,
10, 14, 32, 123, 169-229, 230
ff., 243 f, 263, 266, 272, 288 ;
III., 7, 132, 144, 172, 206,
213, 267, 296; IV, 29, 45,

Apostles, I., 98, 143, 147, 158-

165, 1S4, 212 f, 253 f., 278 f,

283; II., 18 f., 25-38, 39-
66 ff., 78 ff., 85 ff., 98 f., 103,
107, 141, 348 ; III., 6, 192.

Apostles, Acts of, I., 56, 162,
295 f-. 31s; n., 43, 312 ff.;
III., 6.

Apostles, Legends of, III., 211
f ; IV., 306.

Apostles' Chairs, III., 219, 221
ff.

Apostolic Brethren, VI., 8.

Apostolic Word, I., 160 ; II.,
51,65.

Apostol. Constit, I., 186, 293;
II., 19, 37, 38, 57, 71, 129 f.,
137. 139. IS3 f^. 304; III.,
128,211 f., 215, 237, 248, 264,
267 ; IV., 89, 109, 280, 292.

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. l.-VII.

279

Apostolic Rule of Faith v.

Faith, Rule of.
Apostolic Canons, III., 124,

212 f.
Apostolic Church Order, I.,

106, 186; II., 137.
Apostolic Life, VI., 86 f.
Apostolic Writings v. New
■*^ Testament
^ Apost. Succession, I., 216; II.,

I f, 18 f., 67-90^^151 f. ; III.,

214 fF., 230, 233, 235 ; v.,
149.

Apostol. Symbol,!'. Rom. Sym-
bol ; also III., 210; IV.,
136; VI., 25, 53. 244; VI.,
172.

Apostolic Tradition, v. Tradi-
tion ; also III., 122, 124, 145,
195, 207 ff., 211 ff.

Apostolic Fathers ; especially
Vol. I.,Book I.,Chaps.I.-lII.;
also Vol. II., 7 f., 92, 176.

Apostolic Age, I., 72 ; III., 15,

215 f.. 237-
Appellants, VII., 98.
Appuleius, 1., 178.
Aquaviva, VII., 91.
Aquila, 1,298.
Aquileja, Chair of, IV., 250.
Aquileja, Symbol, III., 18S.
Aquileja, Synod of, IV., 93.
Arabians, III., 171 ; IV., 320 ;

v., 281 ff.

Arabian Christians, I., 293.

Archelai-Acta, I., 191, 193 ; II,,
17; III., 50, 104, 320.

Arethas, I!., 238.

Arians, III., 11,49,88, 146, 151,
199 f., 221, 23S, 243, 27s;
IV., 3-49, SO ff.. 59. 67 ff-, 73
ff., 94, 100, 103-107, in f,
121, 126, 133 f., 147, 149 f..

160, 313, 316, 333; v., 96;
VII., 136, 144.
Aristides, I., lOO, 153 f, 163,
171, 180, 203, 205 ; II., 177
f., 218, 266, 380; IV,, 314-
Aristo of Pella, I., 298 f., 300,
Aristotle, I., 239, 243, 336 ff.,
348; II., 303; III., 46, 55 f.,
148, 155, 158, 171, 181, 241
f., 243, 249, 283, 287, 302;
IV., 6 f., 48, 74, 88, 119, 124
f., 129, 149, 153, 157, 164-174,
232 f, 23s, 240, 264 f., 294,
300, 329, 333, 339, 34S ff,
350; v., 9, II, 34, 107 f., 171,
191 ; VI., 29 ff., 34, 36, 41.
130, isoff., 161, 163, 168 f.,
179, 183, 213, 382 f,, 295 f.,

309; VII., 4, 13, 122, 173.

Arius, Arianism, III., 48 f., 97

f, 140 f, 220, 243, 294 ; IV.,

3 ff, 7-49, 51 ff, 57 f., 62 f.,

87 f., Ill, 146 ff., 156, 181 ;

V,, 281,
Aries, Synods of, II., 133, 165 ;

III., 215, 217; IV., 73; v.,

39 f., 252, 283,
Armenians, III., 237 ; IV., 136,

227, 252, 338.
Arminians, VII., 119, 160, i56.
Arnauld, VII., 105.
Arnobius, II., 17 ; III., 56, y^

ff., 241 ; v., 31.
Arnobius the Younger, V,, 254.
Arnold, Gottfried, I., 26; VII.,

126.
Arsinoe, II., 299.
Artemas, III., 20, 31 f. ; IV.,

21, 171.
Artemonites, I., 191; III., 33,62.
Articuli Mixti, VI., 154.
Ascension, I., 106, 158, 203 f..

^m^^^

280 HISTORV

OF DOGMA.

Ascensio Jesaije, I., 101, 157,

. VI., 55. 73; VII., 173.

163, 185, 203.

183.

Asceticism, I., 67, ii3, iiS. 145

Athanasius, Arian Bishop,

f.. 172, 205, 216, 230 fi"., 237

IV.. 3, 17.

f., Z46, 252, 262, 274, 277,

Athens, I., 356, v. Hellenism.

360; 11., 98, 121, 133; III.,

School of Athens. III., 154

lll,326,7^Monachism; VI,

ff. ; IV., 247.

3ff.

Athenagoras, I., 167, 346 ; II.,

Asclepiodotus, I., 358 ; III.,

7, 169-229, 188 ff.

23 f.

Atomic Theory, III., 95.

Asia Minor, Christianity and

Atonement (Reconciliation).

Church of, I., 150 f., 157,

II., 289, 291 f., 294, 367;

162, 250, 288, 291 ; 11., 22,

III., 308 f,31of., 313 !.; v..

26 ff"., 42, 47, 60, 88, 94 f..

46 1.; VI., 54 ff., 78 ff, 189

103 f., 131, 160 ff, 409 f.,

ff ; VII., 197 f.

23S; H., 56.

Atticus, v., 188.

Asiatic Churches, V,, 47.

Attributes of God. I., 31S ; 11.,

Asiatic Religions. I., 229.

349; III, 55, 65 f., 244 f. ;

Askusnages, IV., 125.

v., no ff. ; VII., 145, see

Associations, System of, L,

also Doctrine of God.

105.

Attritio, VI., 225, 248 ff.. 259

Assumptio Mosis, I., soo, 102,

ff., 308 ; VII., 51,69, 104 ff.

168.

Augsburg Confession, I., 7;

V Asterius, IV., 3, 20, 60, 65.

VI., 219, 226 i VII., 10, 26

Astrology, I., 229 f.

f., 36, 175, 191, 256, 270. J

Asturians, V., 282.

Augustine, I., 5 ff., 136, 153, ■

arruyxvToii, arpeirTW^, IV., 205.

257, 344, 358, 361 i II., 44, ■

Athanasianum, IV., 133 ff!.

83. 9i^ 135. '40. 270, 346;

156; v., 302f. ; VII., 174.

III., 7, 33 f., 80, 87, 125, 136

Athanasius, I., 187, 331 ; II.,

f, 130, 139 f., 150, 16s, 172,

4S> 237,3s;; ni., 8,46,72,

182, 187 f., 194, 198 f, 203

8if,8s,87,89,9Zff->97>ii5.

ff, 206 £, 211. 215, 217 £, M

117, 138-144, 148, 160 f., 158

222, 224, 228, 230, 241 ff., ■

f., 162, 164 f, 170 f., 179, 183

244-247, 250, 258-263, 270 f., ■

I, 193 f., 199. 2or, 206, 216,

282, 307. 312 ff, 322, 329, ■

219, 220, 230, 241 ff, 250,

335 i IV, 126, 129-136, 14s, ■

254, 258, 272-276, 389 ff,

183 C, 1S5, 188, 203, 277, ■

299 i, 302 f., 30s f, 308; IV..

284, 310 ff. ; v., 3-240, 241- ■

12 ff., 25-103, 112 ff., 116,

273 ff, 278 ff, 292 ff., 305,

120 f, 127, 132 ff., 138, 146

307, 3 10 ff., 317 ff., 329 : VI.,

ff, 149, 167, 174 f., 187, 190

9, 10 ff, 14, 19, 22, 30, 33 !.,

f., 223, 270, 278, 289, 291,

45, 49 f. 54 f., 60, 74, 77, 99, |J

3iS> 332 ff.. 3SO f.; v.. 5;

,.,..,. ,...,.. .,J

.^ L

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. I.-VIL

281

156 ff., 166 (f., 172 ft:, 178 f.,

182, 187, igi, 199, 200 ff.,
(c/., the whole doctrine of
Sacraments) 274-317 ; VII.,
3f-7f.. H. i6f., 36f., 56ff.,
S6-100, 108, 142, 182 f., 217,

22S r, 266.

■ Augustine, Missionary, V., 272,
Augustinian Hermit School,

VI., 169.
Augustinianism, Criticism of,

v., 217.
Augustinus Triumphus, VI.,

120, 125.
AureHan, Emperor, II., 16S ;

in., 39.

Aurelius of Carthage, V., 175.
Auricular Confession, VI., 142.
Authority and reason in the

Middle Ages, V., 17 f, 78 ff,

190 ff, 246 ; VI., 32 ff., 152

ff., 160 t., 166,281 f.
Authorities (in the first two

centuries) I., 98, 142, 155-

16S.
Auxentius, IV., ';y, 92.
Averrhoes, VI., 150, 156, 179.
Avicenna, VI., 150.
Avignon, Schism of, VI., 113.
Avitus of Vienne, V,, 258.

Babylonian Mythology, I., 243,
246.

Bacon, Roger, VI., 128, 150,

Bajus, VII., 86ff., 93.

Baflez, VII., 91.

Baptism, I., 79, 133, 146, 163,
170 ff., 176 ff., 226, 263, 277,
308 ; II., 21, no ff., 133 C
138 f., 140-143, 169-229, 189
ff., 226 f., 238, 242, 256, 273,
27s. 376, V. also Mysteries
and IV,, 276, 283 f, 293,

306; V-, 44 f. 57. 156 ff.,

202, 207 f, 260 f., 267 f. ;
VI., 53, 120, 309 f., 227 ff. ;
VII., 46, 63, 151 f.. 217.

Baptism of Christ, I., 105, 158,
191, 194, 203, 246, 259, 309 ;
II., 28s f.; III., 16, 34, 41,
43 ; v., 286 f.

Baptismal Confession v. Con-
fession (Creed), Rule of Faith,
Symbols.

Baptismal Formula, I., 79 f.,
133, 197, 206 f.

Bardesanes and Bardesanites,
I., 227, 234, 241, 251 ; II.,
321; III.. 114,321; IV., 3.

Barcabbas, I., 231.

Barcoph, I., 331.

Barnabas, Epistle of, I., loi,
106, 114, 143, 14S ff, 156-

203, 204 ff., 216 f. 224, 238,
296, 328 ; II., 40, 48, 59, 60,
300 f.

Bartholomzeus de Medina, VII.,

104 ff.
Baruch, Apocalypse of, I., 102,

168.
Basilides and his School, I.,

191, 234,237 ff., 241, 249 ff.

253 f, 257 ff., 263, 347; II..

373; III., 114, 342. 331 ;

VI., loG.

Basiliskus, IV.. 22S.

Basilius the Great, III., 46, 83,
87, 92, loi, 132, 183, 213,
226, 301; IV., 84 ff., 89, 91
ff, 103, III, ii4f., 118, 158,
159,291, 32t, 329; v., 31.

Basilius of Ancyra, IV., 75, y?
f., 82 f., Ss, 100, 118, 123.

Baste, Council of, VI., 18, 126
f., 140,315-

Bauer, Bruno. I,, 51.

282 HISTORY OF DOGMA. ^^^^|

Baumgarten-Crusius, I., 32.

Blandrata, VII., 133 f.

Baur, F. Chr., I., 33 f, 49 ; III.,

Blessedness (Salvation) I., 173;

89.

II., 365; III., 164 ff.; VI.,

Bautain, VII., 109.

56, 134 ff-; VI., 106, 133 f..

Beatus, V., 283, 287 f., 291.

174 ff.; VII., 215.

Bede, v., 274, 277, 289,311.

Bohemians, jj. Czechs.

Beghards, VI., 95.

Bohme, VII., 129.

Bcllarmin. I., 25 ; VI., I? ;

Boethius, I., 358 ; V, 34, 243 ;

VII., 82, 87, 90.

VI., 30, 34 f.

Belles-lettres, I., 240 ; IV., 307.

Bogomili. HI.. 191, 336; VI.,

Beloved, description of Christ,

I., 186.

Bologna, VI., 21.

Benedict XIII., Pope, VII., 98.

Bonald, VII., 78.

Benedict XIV., Pope, VL,

Bonaventura, VI., 97, 103, no,

260 ; VII., 98 f.

161, 185, 207, 209, 323, 235

Benedict of Aniane, V, 288.

ff., 250, 253, 25s, 273 f., 301

Benedictions, VH., 55-

ff., 306, 3 1 3.

Berengar, VI., 32, 35, 45 fT,

Boniface, Apostle, V., 377 ;

239-

VI., 20.

Bernard, V., 10, 237 ; VI., 9 ff..

Boniface I., Pope, V., 186.

28, 32, 80 f., loi ff., 199, 202

Boniface II., Pope, V, 258, 261.

f., 306, 378, 313, 316; VII.,

Boniface VIII., Pope, VI., 121

IS, 130, 183, 228.

f., 128.

Bernard Primus, VI., 92.

Bonizo, VI., 18.

Beroea, I., 300.

Bonosus, IV., 315 ; V, 282.

BeryllofBosta. II., 35 ff.

Borromeo, VII., 71.

r Berytus, Synod of, IV., 209.

Bossuet, VII., 75 f

Bible translarion, VI., 142.

Bradwardine, VI., 170 f., 304,

Bibliomancy, IV., 310.

307 f., 309-

Bible, prohibition of, VI., 199.

Brentano, Clemens, VII,, 100.

Biel, Gabriel, VI., 165, 167, 199.

Brenz, VII., 262.

206, 208, 227; VII.. II.

Brethren of the Common Life, "^

Birth of Jesus v. Virgin birth.

VI., ICO.

Bishops, I., 303, 213 ff, 243,

Brethren of the New and Free

252, 266; 11., 5, 19, 67-72,

Spirit, VI., 136.

78,84-90, 104 f.. Ill ff., 114

Bridegroom and Bride, II., 295;

ff., 122 ff., 139 f., 153 ff., 163,

III., 129 ; v., 10, 28, 32, 303

215 f.. 236f.; IV., 380 f.; V.

ff.

39 f. ; VI., 230 f, 257, 269,

Buddhism, I., 69 ; II., 362 ;

271 f., 29S; VII., 53, 72 ff"..

III., 326, 332.

11! f., 163.

Bulgaria, Bulgarians, VI., 8,

Bishops, lists of, II., 70, 153.

136.

Bithynia, Synod of, IV., 10.

Butzer, VII., 264.

GENERAL INDEX

' 1

FOR VOLS. l.-VII. 283 ■

Cfficilian, V., 39.

Caria, Synod of, IV., 5,91-

Cslestine, III., 226; IV., 182;

Carlovingian Epoch, V., 274 ff.; _
VI., 30.

v., 188, 250.

C^Iestius and Cslestians, V.,

Carolini libri, V., 302.

ij'i, 175 ff-, 178, 203, 256.

Carpocratians, I., 120, 239 f.

Cssarea, Symbol of, IV., $2 f„

240.

67 ; Synod of, IV.. 62.

Carlstadt, VII.. 26of.

Cffisariua of Aries, V., 230 f.

Carthage, II., 17, 34, 68, 76, 85

Caius, II., 163, 299; III., 14,

ff., 101 ff., 104, 123, 154, i6r

19.

f. ; V,, 37. Synods of, III.,

Cain and Abel, III., 325.

194, 198: IV., 314; v., 175,

Cajetan, VI., 126 f., 266, 307.

iSi ff.

Calixtus, II., 70 f, 77 f, 84, 89,

Cassian, V., 171, 246 ff., 253

95. "iff- "5, 117. 153,162,

ff.

163 f.; III.. 57 ff-. 67ff.,73,

Ca,ssiodorius, III., 150, 195 ;

86,93; IV., 132; V., 40, 57,

v., 30, 243.

146.

Casuistry, VI., 150, 163 f., 169,

Calixtus of Helmstadt, I., 27 ;

305 ff

VII., 169.

Catechism, Racovian v. Ra-

Calvin, v., 162,216, 322; VII.,

covian.

14, 119 f., 127, 133 f., 13S,

Catechism, Luther's, VI., 117.

159, 178,262, 266,268.

Catechismus Romanus, VII.,

Campanus, VII., 132.

45, 74. 86-

Candles, VII., 56.

Catharists, II., 120 f. ; III.,

Canon, I., 155, 159; II., 45 ;

336; VI., 8, 19,92, 136, 202,

III., 18 (v. Rule of Faith,

230.

Confession, Holy Scripture,

Catholicism, Catholic, I., 7r f..

Old and New Testaments).

214, 216, 226 ff., 252 f., 291

Canon of New Testament {con-

ff., 3[of. ; II., I ff., 12 ff., 17

sequences of), II., 62-66.

ff., 31 ff., 38. 62 ff., 73ff-, 104.

Capital punishment, V., 331.

122, 124 ff., 150-168; III.,

Cappadocian Theology, I., 126;

II, in, 234,237, 316 f, 331

ni., 5,97. 142. 151,164. 187,

f. ; v., 42, 43 f., 148.

200, 202, 205, 207, 214 f..

Catholic Epistles, II., 48 ff ;

216, 243. 250, 262, 283, 289,

III., 197 f.

30S; IV.. 66, 82,84-105, 119

Causality, of God, II., 349, et

ff., 124 ff., 130 f., 137, 148,

alibi.

157 f-, 159 ff-, i74f"-. 187,241,

Celsus, I., 121, 124, 145 f., 180,

282, 291 ff., 313, 334 f,, 336,

1S9. 192 f, 19s, 203, 226, 236,

346, 350 ; v., 27 ff

239,260,271,280, 299,303;

Capreolus, Bishop, IV., 187.

II., 75. 176 f., 182, 333 f..

Capreolus. Schoolman, VI., 162.

339-380 passim; III., 19;

Capua, Synod of, V., 282.

IV., 337-

HI.STOKY OF DOGMA.

384

Cerdo, I,, 247 f, 250, 266 ff.

Ceremonies (v. Law) I., 173 fi".,
291 f., 293 f. ; II., 171 f.

Ceremonial Purity, II., 130.

Cerinthus, I., 167, 246 f., 303 f. ;
III., 14 ff.

Chalcedoiiian Formula, I., 28 f,,
Synod and Symbol, III., 152
f., 209 f., 217, 233-225 ; IV.,
178, igs, 196 f., 2C9 f., 213-
226, 226-252, 253, 258, 260 f.,
263,346,351 ; VII., 244.

Chaldaeism, III., 316.

Character indelibiiis, V., 157 f,;
VI., 211 f, 271 ; VII., 45-

Charisius, IV., 1 18.

Charisma (sv. Prophets) and I.,
Chap. ri.,g§3, 5, pp. 147,213;
II., 107 f., 232; III., 18,87.

Charlemagne, IV., 1 33, 135,
320 ; v., 277 fF., 287 f., 302
ff., 327; VI., 3, 7, 20, 31.

Charles the Bald, IV., 136 ; V.,
27, 300.

Charles of Provence, V., 300.

Charles V., Emperor, VII., 11,

Chateaubriand, VII., 78.

Chemnitz,Martin,VI., 15 ; VII.,
82.

Cherubim, IV., 306.

Chiersey, V., 296, 299 f., 328 ;
VI.. 55-

Chiliasm, I., 167 ff., 292 ; II.,
24, 106 f, 294 ff. ; III., 9, 37,
78,95. 112, 187 f.; IV., 155,
336, 340 ; v., 238.

Chrisma, v. Confirmation.

Christ, I., 184 f. See Jesus.

Christendom, Two Geographi-
cal Halves of, II., 149.

Christians outside the Com-
munity, I., 151.

Christianity, I., yo ff., 148, 360;

II., 325 ff-, 336, 368; III.,
100, 107, 330 f., el alibi.

Christianity of second rank,
III., 125, 130 f.; IV., 304ff.

Christina of Sweden, VI I., 169.

Christologies (Beginnings of),
I., 76 ff., 80 ff., 92 f., 99 ff-.
129 f., 133, 156 f., 183-303,
246, 252 f., 258 ff., 271 f., 275
f., 306, 309; II., 98, 180 ff.,
218 ff., 235, ni ; III., 32-50,
69, 76 f., 85, V. Jesus.

Christologies, Philosophical,
III., i-8ff., 81-118, z'. Jesus.

Chronicles, Books of. III., 193.

Chrysantius, I., 355.

Chrysaphius IV., 199.

Chrysoslom, I., 165 ; III., 129,
152, 168, 180, 196, 200 f, 205,
213, 215, 222, 226, 235 f., 283,
302, 309 ; IV,, 166, 18:, 203,

280, 297 ff-, 342 f., 344 f-. 350 ;

v., rpo.
Church, I., 43 f., 78 ff, 88 f., 133,
141 iT., 150 ff, 165, 193, 212
ff,, 260 f., 324 ; II., 4 f., 43,
46, 61 ff., 67 ff., 71-93, 94-
127, 13s, 143, 146 f., 287,293,

295.303 f-, 336, 338 f-. 357 f.;

III., 3, 25 ff., 79, 108, iiof.,
113 f., 207 ff., 214 ff., 228,
233 ff ; IV., 278 ff, 289, 292 ;
v., 10 f, 39 ff, 43 ff, 58, 66,
7T, 78 ff., 83, 137, 140-16S;
VI., 118-149, 153 ff, 174 f.,
195, 200, 232, 315 ; VII., 9,
161 ff., 187 f., 220, 225, 233,
239 f

Church as civitas, 11., 82 ; V.,
137. iSi-'55-

Church as Mother, II., 76 ; V.,
15a.

Church and Christ, I., 152 ff. ;

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. L-VII.

II., 71 ; v., 145, 164, V.
Church.

Church and State, II., 122 f.,
vol. III., 121 to vol. IV., 3S3
passim, v., 150-155.

Church Discipline, II., 104, 108-
121.

Church, Hierarchical Concep-
tion of, II., 77 ff^, 83 ff. ; III.,
214 ff., 364 r., 271 ff. ; IV.,
242-274.

Church Language, V., 15, 22 ;
VI., 142; VII., 40 f.

Church Song, III., 114.

Church State, VII., 1 14 f.

Church Year, IV., 305.

Cicero, 11., 204; v., 22,49, 172,
191.

Cilician Synod, V., 1S8.

Circumcision, I., 107, 178 f., 298,
306 f., 314; IV., 279; VI.,
209.

Claudius of Turin, VI., 307.

Clemange, VI., 141.

Clement VI., Pope, VI., 266.

Clement IX., Pope, VII., 95.

Clement XL, VII., 96.

Clement of Alexandria, I., 136,
160, 163 f, 185, 194, 204, 227,
234, 237 ff, 257, 262, 267,
292,293; II., I if., 32-37,42,
44, 52, 56-61, 71 ff"., 75 f., 80
ff, S3, 129, 133, 140 f, 145,
1 52, 237, 343. 3 19-332, 336 ff-.
350. 351 f-. 356-380; III.,

53, 86, lOr, 17s, 189, 212,331,

237, 253, 268, 271, 293 f.,

303; IV., IIS, 171,237,273,
280.
Clement and ist Epistle of
Clement, I., lOi, 115, 143,
150 f, 155-203, 209-220, 328;
It., 42 f, 48, 58, 60, 128, 153

28s

f., 196, 353; IV., 139; v.,
15-

Clement, 2nd Epistle of, I.,
loi, 106, 153, 155-203, 205
ff, 224, 335, 338 ; II., 40 fT,
73.82, 132,29s; III., 86.

Cleobius, I., 244.

Cleomenes, III., 56 f., 61, 64.

Clergy, v. Priests. Lower
Clergy, II., 154.

Clichy, Synod of, V., 283.

Clugny, v., 27s ; VI., 3 ff, 20 f.

Ccelestis Pastor, Bull, VII., 100.

Colossians, Heretics of Epistle
to, I., 246 f., 303 f.

Coluccio Salutato, VI., 135.

CoUuthus, IV., 7.

Collyridians, IV., 316.

Cologne, Synod of, IV., 70.

Commemorations, IV., 285 f.

Commodian, II., 17, 217, 244,
296, 304 ; III., 76 ; v., 24,
26, 49 f.

Communio Sanctorum, V., 244.

Communion of Children, II.,
147 ; ly., 303 ; VI., 240.

Communities, v. Congrega-
tions.

Conception, v. Mary.

Concomitance, VI., 237 f.

Concordats, VI., 126; VII., 77,
80.

Concupiscence, III., 107 ; V.,
194 ff, 210 ff; VI., 337 f.,
297 f. ; VII., 59 f.

Confederation of the Churches,
HI., 148.

Confession, v. Penitence (Pen-
ance).

Confessions (Creeds), Begin-
nings of, I., 79, 155 ff ; IL,
4f., 18-38,49; HI., I.

Confirmation, I., 263 ; II., 140

286

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

f., IV., 277, 293 ; VI., 20I,
211, 230 f. ; VH., 46.
Confutatio. I., 7; VII., 10,
226.

Congregations {v. also Church),
I., 150 ff., 204,209 ff., 212 ff],
1S6 f., 252, 324; II., 15, 17,
31 ff., 67 ff., 73. 76 f., 86ff.,
137; III., 114 f.

Congregatio de auxiliis, VII.,
90.

Conservatism of Theologians,

in., 137 f.

Consilia, v. Twofold Morality.
Constance, Council of, V., 17,

127, 140, 147, 241, 269, 306.
Constans I., IV., 67 f, 243.
Constans 11,, IV., 256 ff.
Constantia, IV., 62.
Constantine the Great, II., 125,
130; III., 126 f., 131, 136,
148, 186, 196, 215, 3i8, 225 ;
IV.. 8, 9 f- 43 f., Sof- S3 fl^.
58-63,93.221,333; VI., 172.
Constantine II., IV., 67.
Constantine Copronymus, IV.,

314,320, 324 f.
Constantine Pogonatus, IV.,

260.
Constantinople, II., 122; III.,
223 f., 227 f. ; IV., 95, 190
ff., 201, 214, 225, 251, 254 ff.,
262, 342 ; v., 241, 247, 302 ;
VI., 28 ff
Constantinople, Synod of, 336,

IV., 63, 65.
Constantinople, Synod of, 360,

IV., 79- ^ ,

Constantinople, Synod of, 381,
III., 151, 216, 223 ; IV., 94
ff., 118, 158,219.
Constantinople, Synod of, 382,
III., 237; IV., 98, 102 f. 118.

Constantinople, Synod of, 383,

IV., 104.
Constantinople, Synods of, 448
and 450, IV., 200, 204, 213,
218.
Constantinople, Religious Con-
ference of, 531, IV., 242.
Constantinople, Synod of, 536,

IV., 243.
Constantinople, Synod of, 680.

HI., 157; IV., 360 if:, 310.
Constantinople, Synod of, 692,

IV., 262, 284.
Constantinople, Synod of, 754,
IV., 316, 324 f. ; v., 306,
309-
Constantinople, Synod of, 842,

IV. 328.
Constantinople, Synod of, 869,

v., 307.
Constantinople, Synod of, 11 56,

VI, 77.
Constantinopolitan Symbol,
III., 209 f.; IV., 95 ff, 114.
118, 127, 133. 136; v., 302
f ; VII., 40. 84, 134.
Constantius II., IV., 63 ff., 67

ff, 71 ff., yg f., 91, 94, 232.
Constitution, I., 212 ff., 256,
291 f ; II., 5; III., 126, 211
f., 214 ff, 236, Vols. V.-VII.
passim.
Consubstantiation, VI., 52,

235 f.
Contarini, VI., 307.
Conventicles, I., 151, 250.
Coornhert, VII., 123, 160.
Copts, IV., 193.
Coptic Monks, see Monks and

III., 690 f.
Copula carnalis, VI., 273 f.
Copyists, Errors of, III., 237.
Cordova, V, 283.

GENERAL INI)E>; FOR VOLS. I.-VIL

Corinthian Community, I., 147.
Cornelius Mussus, VII., 83.
Cornelius of Rome, II., 115.

121, 122, 141, 154, 167.
Corporeality of God, I., 179 ;

II.,36>-
Corpus Christi, Feast of, VI.,

241; VII., 48.
Cosmology, I., 176 ; II., 202,

fC, 247ff.; III., 87, 183,236

ff. ; IV., 38 f. ; v., 1 10 ff.
Cosmopolitanism, I., 109, 121 f.
Cosmos, I., 318.
Councils, 111., 127, 148, 208,

213, 215 K, 220 f, 228 f.,

231; IV., 323, 351; HI-

passim, v. Basle, Constance,
etc.; VII., 6, 10 ff., 75 f., 83.

Councils, Numbering of, VI.,
17-

Covenant of God, II., 305 ff

Creatianism, III., 258 f.

Creation, I., 179, 245 ff., 256 f,,
338 f., 360; II., 24S f, 258,
349 f-i 361 f- ; III-. 71 f-. 107,
1S7, 324; IV., 29; v., IIS,
120 f, 200; VI., i84f.; VII.,
197.

Creature, I., 318, et alibi.

Cross, V. Death of Christ.

Cross, Sign of, III., 213, 251,
306; IV., 278, 314, 323;

VI., 315.

Crusades, VI., 8 fifl, 260.
Cultus, V. Divine Service, I.,

166.
Cum occasione, Bull, VII., 94.
Cup, Withholding of, VI., 52,

240; VII., 47 f
Curialism, v. Pope, Roman

Bishop and VII., 5 ff., 10 ff,

19 ff., 21 f., 72 to 80.
Cynics, I., 119, 123, 128.

28/

Cyprian, I., i8g, 206; II., 17^
37 f, 70 ff, 85-93, 111-122 ff.,
129 ff, 132-145, IS3, 164
ft:, 235, 262, 27s, 287, 294,
296,313; III., 74 f., 79, 214-
216, 221, 224, 230, 233, 310
f. ; IV., 1S8, 277, 284, 303;
v., 6, 24 ff, 38 ff.. 42 ff, 105,
141 f., 263, 270, 333; VI.,
129; VII., 83.

Cyprian, Disciple of Caesarius,

v., 257.

Cyriacus, IV., 348.

Cyril of Alexandria, III., 5,
III, 138, 114 f, 182, 184, 200,
206 f^ 214, 216, 220, 222,
226, 234 f., 301, 30S, 309;
IV., 127, 148, 174-190,
191 f, and also passim in
Chap. III., 252, 256, 265, 283,
299, 313. 3"6, 346, 350 f ;
v., 128, 188, 280, 289, 314,
VI., 188; VII., 174.

Cyril of Jerusalem, III., 130,,
132. 162, 168, 174 f., 179, 181
f-, 187, 193, 206 f, 209 f, 214
f, 233 ff, 243, 244, 269, 305
f. 309; IV.. 71, 95 ff, 103,
166, 270, 292, 312, 333.

Cyrillus Lucaris. III., 194 -
IV., 128.

Cyrus of Alexandria, III., 184:
IV., JS4.

Czechs, VI., 1 1 1, ti4.

Daches of Berenice, IV., 4.

Damascius. I.. 358.

Damasus, III., 131, 225; IV.,
92, 94 f., 102 f., 118, 158 f. ;
v., 59-

Damian, Patriarch, IV., 125.

Damnation of unbaptised chil-
dren, v., 213, 248.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Daniel, I., i68.

Dante, VI., 128, 140.

David of Augsburg, VI., 97,

David of Dinanto, VI., 179.
David of Mez-Kolmank, IV,,

317.
Davidis, Franz, VII., 135.
Davidic Sonship, I., 158, 195,

203.
Deacons, I., 209, 213 f; II.,

168; VI., 272: VII.. 163.
Death, II., 216 f., 270 f., 274 ;

III., 108, 164 f., 264 ff, 271,

280 f . 28s f., 288 ff., 296 f ;

IV., 30S f., 3i9f-; V. 19; f-.

214, et alibi; VII., 143.

Death of Christ, I., 60, 83 f.,
133, 158, 186 f, 199 ff, 210 f.,
260, 326; II., 221 f., 289 f..
Z93 ff., 342, 367 fT ; III., loS
f., 30s ff. ; IV., 287 ; v., 54
f, 201, 204 f., 264 f., 328 ;
VI., 54-78, 103, 1S9 ff, 212,
240 ff; Vn., 148 ff.. ISS ff-

Decalogue, I., 179; II., 301,
304, 307; III. 140.

Decius, II., 124, 168 ; VI., 54-

Decretals, VI., 18 (., 118 ff.,

132 f-

Deification (share in the divine
nature) I., I18 f., 19O; II.,
10, 239 ff., 268 f, 271, 293,
317 f-, 337 f-. 368 f.; HI., 7,
163 ff, 265 f.; IV., 144 f,
and frequently elsewhere,
e.g., 2S6, 290; v., 20; VI,,
201, 207, 222, 226, 271, 300.

Deification of Christ, I., 193 ;
II., 371; II!., 73.

Deists, English, L, 27.

Demetrius of Alexandria, II,,
131-

Demiurge, I,, 245 ff, 257, 258 ;
II-, 247.

Democritus, V., 191.

Demons, I., 179 ff, 188, 243;
II., 21, 185, 190, 191, 196 f.,
204 ff., 216 f., 222, 361 ff,
366; III., 125 f, 251 f., 252,
264, 289, 324 f. ; IV., 306 f.

Demophilus, IV., 142.

Denck, VII., 129 f.

Denis. II., 345.

Deusdedit, VI,, i8, 118.

Devii, V. also Demons and I.,
181 ff, 257 f. 309; II., 91,
290, 363, 367 ; III., 186,251
f., 307 f, 314 f., 324; IV.,
306 ; v., 204, 263 f. ; VI.,
59,76,77.81; VII., 191.

Dialectic and Dogma, III., 1S3
f.; VI., 31 ff

Didache, I., 55, 150 ff, 156-203,
204-216,222, 239,250, 287 £ ;
II., 22 f, 32, 42, 59, 73, 98,
128, 131,295; VI., 35.

Diatomites, IV., iS.

Didymus, II., 98 f ; III., 197,
202,298; IV., 116, 178,258,
31 ', 334-

Dimoerites, III., 301.

Diodorus, III., 2or, 242; IV,,
165 f, 190.

Diognetus, I., 120, 156, 170,
185.

Dionysius of Alexandria, I,,
251, 292; II., 37, 92, 107,
120 f., 130, 145, 151, 164;
III., 37, 38, 81, 83, 89-96, 99
ff. ; IV., 41.45, 49, 56.

Dionysius the Areopagite, 1,,
127; III., 155,165.237,243,
248 f, 126 f.. 253, 299 f. ;
IV., 236, 240 f , 252, 277, 282,

299, 3", 318, 329, 337 ff:,

GENERAL INDEX FOK VOLS. I.-VIL

347. 35°; v., 31, 274, 277;

VI,, 27, 29, 99, 102, 106, 178

f., 185, 201, 232.
Dionysius Exiguus, VI., 20.
Dionysius of Corinth, I., 160 f. ;

II., 15,26 f., 47, 106, III f.,

156 f.; III., 184.
Dionysius of Milan, IV-, 72.
Dionysius of Rome, II., 165 ;

M I., 74 f, 88-96; IV., 45, 49,

56. IIS, 132-

Dio.scuros, IV., 190-226, 259.
Diospolis, Synod of, V., i6g,

176, 178 f.
Disciples of Jesus, I., yy.
Disciples, The Seventy, If., 59.
Discipline, Apostolic, II., 211 f.
Disposition for the Sacrament

and Grace, VI., 197, 221 ff.,

2S7 ff., 308.
Ditheism, III., 93.
Docetism, Gnostic, I., 256, 258

f.,276; II., 276 ff., 370; III.,

16.
Docetic Element also IV., 138

ff, and elsewhere, e.g., 268,

286, 304-
Docetism, NaTve, I., 194, 238.
Dogma, Conception, Task,

Factors of, I., 3 ff., 13 ff.
Dogm a and ( Bibl ical) Theol ogy,

1.. 9 ff, 48 f.
Dogma and Philosophy, I., ij

ff.. 359-362 ; VI.. 33 ff-

Dogma and the West, V., 4 ff ,
104 ff., 170, 178 f, 184, 189,
238 f., 261, 303 f.; VI, 18 ff.,
27 ff., 54,84, 95 f- "6, 145,
(48, 152, 168, 176 f.; VII.,
4ff., 8 ff., 10, 14 ff., 19 f.. 21
ff, log, 1 16 ff., down to close
of Work, especially 169-180,
242 f.

Dogma and the East, III., 121-
190, 462 ff.

Dogma and Protestantism, I.,
2 ff, 25 ff ; VII., 168 ff

Dogmatics, I., 241, 328, 359-362 ;
II., 4, 9 ff., 63, 125, 202 ff.,
224, 22S, 24s f., 32s f.. 332,
335; ni., 9, 56,63, 7% 116
f. ; Vol. III., Part II., Chap.
II.; Vol. I v., Chap, v.; Vol.
v.. Chaps. I. and II., and
Chap. Ill,, p. 95 ff

Dogmas, I., 227 ; II., 9, 175.

Dogmatics, Lutheran, VII., 238
ff

Dogma, History of, its Con-
ception and History, I., 1 ff.,

33 ff; II., 331 f-, 279 f.; v.,

4 ff, 212.
Dominicans, VI., 92, 94, 124,

162, 167, 314; Vll., 89 f.,

100 f.
Domitian, I., 189.
Domnus of Antioch, IV., 199,

208.
Donatism, II., 116, 123; III.,

222, 225, 230, 235 ; v., 38 ff.,

140 ff., 162 ; VI., 13s, 268.
Dorotheus, III., 20i ; IV., 3,

166.
Dort, Decrees of, VII., 29 f.
Dositheus, I., 344.
Dotes Ecclesi,-E, V., 46 f.
Double Truth, VI., 161.
Dreams, I., 53
Dualism, I., 181 f., 336 f. ; II.,

342 f. ; III., 105,258 f., 323;

IV., 25, 304, 307.
Duns Scotus and Scotistic

Mysticism and Theology, V.,

123 ; VI., 24, 107, 161 ff., 165

f., 178 ff, 183, 185 ff., 188, 196

ff, 208 ff, 219, 220 f., 224 f.,

290 HISTORV

OF DOGMA. ^V^l

226 f., 233, 235 ff., 254 f-. 3;2,

Elkesaites, I., 240, 246, 304 ff. ;

300-312, 314, 317; VII., II,

IL, no ; III., 320, 331.

58.

Elvira, Synod of, IL, iii, 123

Diirandus, Schoolman, VI., 161

f. ; v., 26.

r. 248, 274.

Emanation, IV., 8, 25, v. Gnos-

Durandus of Hueska, VI., 92,

ticism.

12a

Emmerich, A. K., VII., loi.

Durandus of Troanne. VI., 52.

Empedocles, V., 191.

Dyotheletism, III., 157, 209;

Emperor, Worship of, 118 f.

IV., 255-265.

Ems Punctation, VII., 79 ff.

Encyclical Letter, IV,, 227.

Easter Controversy, I., 2S8, 292;

Enhypostasis, III., 157; IV.,

n, 154.

17^,233, 236, 264 f.

Ebionites, v. Jewish Christians.

Encratites, I., 237, 280 ; II., 43,

Eberard, V., 295.

102 f, 121, 123,232,277.

Ebner, Margaret, VI., 100, 113.

Ennodius, V., 254.

Economists, Montanist, II., 96.

Enoch, Apocalypse of, L, 100,

Economy, v. Apologists and

lis f., 168, 332.

II., 258 f., 266, 269.

Enthusiasm, I., 45, 49, 53, 106,

Eckhart, VI., 99 f., 105, no.

141, 168,277, 281 ; II., 9, 25,

113. 172.

53 f., 63 f., 76, 78, Si, 95 ff..

Edessa, IL, 17, 167 ; IV., 3,

250; III.. 31; v., 39-

189.

Enthusiasts, I'. Anabaptists.

Egyptians, Gospel of the, I,,

Ephesians, Ep. to, I., 96, 104 ;

106, 196, 254 ; IL, 42, 152 ;

II., 10, 40, 80.

III., 86.

Ephesus, Bishopric of, III.,

Egyptian Communities, I., 157,

223.

292 ; IL, 40, 107, 152, 299.

Ephesus, Synod of, of year 431,

Ecstasy, I., 112, 231.

III., 153, 217, 221,224, 326;

Ecthesis, IV., 256 f.

IV., i86fr., 209f., 2i9f.; V.,

Eldad and Modad, Apocalypse

188.

of, I., 100.

Ephesus, Synod of, of year 449,

Election, I., 94, 14S.
" Election of Christ, I., 1 84 f

III., 153,217, 223 ; IV., 193,

197, 207 ff, 21!, 216 f.

Eleusius of Cyzikus, IV., ri8.

Ephraem Syru.s, III., 164, 301.

Eleutherus, II., 163; III., 20,

Ephraem of Antioch, IV., 243.

S9f-

Epigonus and his School, III.,

Elevation, VI., 241.

56, 57 ff., 61.

Elias of Cortona, VI., 94.

Epictetus, I., I30, 123 f., 127.

EliasofNisibis, III„23g; IV.,

Epictetus, Bishop, III., 301.

126.

Epicurus, I., 239, 339; IL, 186

Elipandus, v., 281 f.

194; HI- 95-

Elizabeth, Saint, VI., 104.

Epiphanes, 1., 239 f.

W GENERAL INDEX

FOR VOLS. 1.-VII. 291

' Epiphany, I., 3^2, 327 ff. ; III.,

Eudoxius, IV., 75 fC., 79 f., 90,

37-

147.

Epiphanius, I., 266 ff., 293, 304

Euelpis in Laranda, II., 131.

ff. ; 11., 237 ; III., 14-50, 80

Eugene I., Pope, IV., 259.

f., 84 ff., 87, 98, 103, 152 f..

Eugene II., Pope, V., 307.

181, 187, 200, 209, 213, 235,

Eugene IV., Pope, VI., 126,

322 ; IV., 99. 102, 118, 127,

140, 204 (v. also Sacraments

340, 344-

and Florentine Council), 331

Episcopal System, VI., 140 f. ;

f., 339, 243, 370 r, 374 ; VII.,

Vn., 72-So.

41,46.

Episcopate, v. Bishops.

Eulogius, Patriarch, IV, 239.

Erasmus, VI., 173; Vlt., 13,

Eulogius of C^sarea, V., 179.

170, 303, 245.

Eunomius and Eunomians,

Ernesti, I., 28.

III., 213, 243 ; IV.. 15, 74,

Eschatology, I., 6G, 73, 94, lOi,

80,88, 103 f.. Ill, 118, 147,

126 f, 141, 162-174, 181 f..

150,313.333; v., 171.

260 f., 273 f, 276, 287 f. ; II.,

Euphranor, HI., 89,90.

95 f., 240, 244, 394 ff, 369 ;

Euphrates of Cologne, IV, 70.

III,, 6ff., 163 r. 178, iS6f.,

Eusebians, III., 13S, 141, 216,

307; IV., 15s ; v., 23, 91 ff.;

235, 294 ; IV., 28, 36, 44 f..

VII., 191, 215.

51 ff., 64ff, 67 ff, 69ff:, 80.

Eschatological Words of Jesus,

Eusebius of Csesarea, I., 33,

I., 66, roi, 167.

300; IT., 84, 132, 136, 323 ;

Esnik, I., 266 f. ; IV., 344.

III., 22 ff,3i, 36 f, 38,95,97,

Espen, Van, VII., 79.

103 f, 112, 118, 131, 136, 176,

Essenism, I., 68 f., 243.

182, 196 f, 200, 202, 213 f..

Esther, III., 193-

219,221 f., 234,389,309.334;

Eterius, v.. 283. 287.

IV.. 3,9 f., I7,49f-. SI ff-, 56

Ethics, V. Morality, Asceticism,

f., 60 f, 64 f., 67, 81, 160. 293,

I.. 336 (■

321, 332 f.; VII., 84.

Eucharist, I., 60,66, 164, r66,

Eusebius of DorylKum, II.,

205 f., 209 ff., 212, 226, 263,

168; IV., 197, ,199, 308.

308; II., 21, 35, 131 f, 136

Eusebius of Emesa, IV, 75.

ff, 143-148, V. Mysteries and

166.

IV., 276 ff, 2S3-303, 31S

Eusebius of Nicomedia, IV., 3,

ff. ; v., 47, 1 56 ff., 209. 267,

9 ff, 14 ff, 51 ff, 58, 60 ff.

269 ff., 291, 308-322; 4S-S4,

64. 68.

165, 200, 216, 332-243 ; vn..

Eusebius of Rome, III., 131;

45-50,152,217,244,249,258-

v., 40.

265.

EusebiusofVercelli, IV., 73.

Eucherius of Lyons, III., 204.

Eustathius of Antioch, IV.. 50

Euchites, III., 181.

f., 59, 62, 65, 82, 148, 166,

Eudokia, IV., 201.

292 f.. 333-

2g2 HISTORY

OF DOGMA. ^^^^^1

Eustathius of Sebaste (Eusta-

Facundus of Hermiane, IV.

thians). III., 138. 146, 191 ;

24s, 248 ; v., 284.

IV„75.89, 118.

Faith, I.. § 3, pp. 171 f., 260 £,

Eutherius, IV., 192.

266 f ; n., 32s f., 329 f., 347,

Euthymius. IV., 28, 348.

379; III, 163-190; v.. 44

Eutychesand Eutychians, III.,

ff., so f., 56 ff., 69 ff, 78 ff.

322 ; IV., 197-222, 222 ff.

86 ff, 134 f, 207; VI., 146,

fassim, e,g., 235 f., 286, 324.

219, 220 f., 300; VII., 60,

Eutychius of Constantinople,

61-72, 140 f, 148 f., 154, 159

IV., 300.

f, 1 82 f, 200, 306 ff, 229.

Evagrhis, III., 138 ; IV., 106,

Faith, Certainty of, V., 13; VI.,

343-

287 ff. ; VII., 68, 180 ff.,

Eve, II., 274, 276; III., 108.

208 f.

109, 325 f. ; VI.. 315.

Faith, Doctrines of, (beginnings

Evil and Good, The Problem

of,) I., 164 f, (v. Dogmatics).

of, II.. 343 f., 362; III., 2SS

Faith, Law and Rule of, I., 155

f.. 323; v., 116 ff.

f., 25s ff, 258; II., I ff., 12

Evil, II., 343 f, etc. See Sin.

f, 18-38, 55 f., 65 ff, 74 ff.,

Ex omnibus afflictionibus, Bull,

23off.,35of., 294f., 330, 335,

VII., 87.

354,357; ni., I ff.,47f., 71,

Exaltation of Christ, I., 194 f..

19. 113. 118.

322 r., 327.

Faith, Rule of, and Philosophy,

Excommunication, 11., loS-

II., S ff. II f., 230 to 247.

122; VI., 257.

Faith, Science of, II., 378 f. ;

Execrabilis, Bui), VII., 6.

III,, 113.

Exegesis, III., 199 ff. ; V., 32.

Fallen (lapsi), II., 208 ff

Exhomologesis, I., 178; II.,

Fall, The, -u. Sin.

no.

Fasts, I., 204, 206, 294; 11.,

Expiation, I., § 8, p. 330.

102, 132 f., 294, etc, e.g., VI.,

Exorcism, IV., 278.

258.

ExsUperius, VII., 41.

Fasti, 1 1., 90.

Exucontians, IV., 74.

Fatalism, III., 244 f., 248.

Eybel, VII., 80.

Father, God as, I., 58 ff., 64 f..

Ezra and Nehemiah, III., 193.

179 f-; n„3ssi:; ni.,63f.,

Ezra, Apocalypse of, I., 87 f.

91 ff

168,322; VII., 41.

Fathers, Authority of the, III.,

220 f ; IV., 350, and else-

Fabian, 11., 164; III., 93 ; IV.,

where.

93.

Faustus, Manich^ean, III., 335.

fabius of Antioch, III., 95-

Faustus of Rhegium, IV., 314;

Fabricius, HI., 322.

v., 244,252 ff, 282.

Facts of the History of Jesus, v.

Febronius, VII., 78.

Preaching.

Felix I., Pope, IV., 150, 187.

GENERAL INDEX

FOR VOLS. I.-VIL 293

Felix 11., I'ope, II., 124.

133. 134 f-; v., 8, 242, 275,

Felix ill., Pope, III, 317.

302 ff, 308 ff; VI, 126;

Felix IV., Pope, V., 258.

VII., 74 ff-

FelixofUrgel, v., 281-292.

Frankfort, Synod of, V., 288,

Fellowship, Christian, II., 329.

306.

Fenelon, VII., roo.

Fraticelli, VI., 95.

Fidesimplicita,V., 42, 81; VI.,

Fredegis, V., 276.

147. 165 f., 308, 311; VII,

Frederick I., Emperor, VI, 118.

7, 107, 141, 159.

Frederick II, VI, 119.

Fihrist, III, 317, 320 f, 327 f.

Frederick III., VI., 136.

Firmilian, II, 89, 164 ; III, 38,

Free Will in Christ, IV, 148,

45-

179, and elsewhere in Chaps.

Flacius, I, 26 ; VI, 15.

II. and III.

Flamines, II., 124.

Freedom of Man, I.,i7of., I47f.,

Flavian of Antioch, IV, 95,

169-229, 267 ff, 344 f, 359,

103.

363 f. ; III., 173 ff, 244 t,

Flavian of Constantinople, III.,

248 f, 256 ff, 266 ff., 271.

94; IV., 197, 198-210, 318.

273 f. ; IV., 27Sf, 290; V,

Flesh of Christ, I, 193 K, 3I3,

64 ff, 112 ff., 173 ff, 191 ff.,

220 f, 326 f. ; 11, 23; III,

I96ff, 347f, 253f.

67 f, 76 ; v., 53 ; see also

Freedom, Christian, VII., 185.

Incarnation.

Frohschammer, VII., 109.

Florentine Council, VI, 17 f.

Fulbert, VI., 32, 48.

1S9, 204, 210, 472 f.

Fulgentius, V., 255 ff., 293.

Florinus, II, 27.

Florus Magister, V, 297.

Gajanus, IV.. 244.

Following Christ, v. Love for

Galen, I, 120, 235.

Jesus.

Gallicanism, VII, 75 f , 99.

Fomes peccati, VI,, 228.

Gallic Authors, III, 125.

Forgeries, III., 183 f., 220 f. ;

Gangra, Synod of. III., 128,

IV., 200, 21.1, 220, 242, 249.

191.

261, 342 ; V, VI., VII.,

Gelasius, Pope, lit., 217; IV,

fiasjim.

343; V, 2 54f.

Forgiveness of Sin, see Sin.

Gelasius, Decree of, III, 198;

Francis, St., and the Minorites,

IV., 343. 349-

V, 10, 237; VI., 14, 8s-

Generation of Christ, II.. 355 ;

117,314!.; VII., 13, IS, 124,

III.. 37.

24s.

Genealogy of Jesus, I., iOO, 191.

France, v. Lyons, VII, 8, 246

Gennadius, III., 165 ; V, 254-

ff.

Gentilis, Vn, 133.

Francl<, Sebastian, VII., 123,

Gentile Christianity, I., 89 f.,

129.

91 f, 108, 148, 160 f , 287 f..

ranks and tlie French, IV.,

291 ff.

^^^^^^H

294 HISTORY

OF DOGMA.

Gentiles under the Power of

77, 128, 131, 145. '59. '91.

the Church, VI., 120.

230 ff., 239-244,247-253,358,

Gentiles, Mission to, I., 87 f..

286, 29s, 301, 304 f, 342,

89 ff.

348, 349, 360, 367 ff., 379;

Gentilly, Synod of, IV., 133,

ni., 5, 9, S3 f-. 103 ff., in,

325 ; v., 304, 306-

113 ff, 152, 249, 253 f., 258,

Genus tertium, I., 153.

307 f; IV., 14, 25, 139 f..

Georgius, Presb., IV., 4. 88.

14b, 156, 276. 282, 286, 306,

Georgius of Alexandria, IV.,

315,335. 344,347; VL, 76.

73-

Gnostics, The True, 11., 1 1 f. 7 1 ,

Georgius of Constantinople,

80, 81, 322 f., 325,365.

IV., 260.

Gnostics and Apologists, II.,

Georgius of Laodicea, IV., 17,

169 ff

75 f.

Goch, V. Pupper.

Gerbert, VI., 32.

God (Frankian ideas), 277 ff.

Gerhoch. VI., 45, 52, 188.

God {Greek ideas), I., 118 f.,

German Theology. Book, VI.,

i8g, 190; III., 55.

los, [o8.«

GodCJewishideas), I., 318.

Germanic Christians, III., 31 1 ;

God (post-Augustinian ideas),

IV., 44, 310; v., 6 f, 308,

v., 323.

323-331 ; VI., 55 ff., 258.

God, Christ as, 1., 105, 186 ff..

Germany and Protestantism,

258 f., 275 f., 299, 326; II.,

VII., 169 f

348. 353 f.. 369 ff- ; HI., 5ff.

Germanus of Constantinople,

16-50, 61 ff., 70, 75 ff, 118.

IV., 303.

God, Proofs for, III., 241 f. ;

Germinius of Sirmium, IV.,

VI., 17S f

76 f.. 91.

God, Service of. I., 166, 176,

Gerson, VI., 141, 199.

204 ff, 230, 244, 291 f. 341;

Gifts, Presentation of, I., 204 ff.

11., 5, 128 ff., 131, 136 ff. ;

Gilbert, VI., 183.

III., 3. 43, 13S, 143. 157 ff.

Giordano Bruno, VII., 123, 131,

2iif., 236f,25if.,329; IV.,

170.

263, 269, 272 ff, 279 ff., 298,

Glabcr. VI., 7.

305, 334, 351; in., 135,

Glaukiiis, I., 255.

273; VII., 191,221 f.

Glorification, III., 105.

God, Friends of, VI., loa

Glorification of Christ, II., 371
f.

God, bearer of, IV., 25, 38, 168,
173, 177, 181, 184, 189,266,

Gnomes, I., 154; II., 25, 133.

272, 308, 316.

Gnostics and Gnosticism, I.,

God, doctrine of, I., 58 ff, 179

143-149, 163 f., 175 f, 191,

ff. : II., 202 ff, 247 f., 353 ff,

194, 214 f, 222-265, 289 f,

345, 349 ff, 364; ni- 631:,

. 298, 302 ff., 347 f. ; 11., I ff..

8s, 117, 241 ff.; v., iioff.;

7 ff., 23 ff, 35 f , 38 ff, 67 ff.

VI., 178 ff., 185 f. 279 f.;

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. L-VII,

295

Vri., 144 f., 181 f., 196 f.,
212.

God, Son of, I., 64, 186, 189,
192 f., 197, 306 k. ; II., II,
259, 263, 275 ff., 286 f., 352
fC; 365 f., 371 ; III., 6, 22 ff,
64, 70, 73 f., 90 ff-

God-man, v. Incarnation and
II.. 340 ff., 262 fC, 27s ff. ;
III., 107.

God-parents, II., 396 ; VI.,
229.

Gonzales, VII., 107 f.

Good, 7'. Evil.

Gospel, I., 58 ff., 171, 173 f. ;
II., 125, 329, 342, 366.

Gospel Life, I., 233 f. ; II., I30.

Gospel Christianity in the
Ancient Church and in the
Middle Ages, V., 46, 56 ff.

Gospel and Dogma, III., 167
f., 170, 181.

Gospel and Old Testament, I.,
41 ff., 175 ff

Gospel and Hellenism, I., 44 ff,
69, 169 f., 186,222 ff., 253 ff,
263, 266 f., 290 ff, 336 ff„
259 ff.; II., 5 ff, 9, 13 f, 169-
229,230-247, 338, 339; III.,
9-

Gospe! and Judaism, I., 43 ff,
86 ff, 148 f, 176 ff

Gospel of Marcion, I., 275 ff.

Gospel in the sense of the Re-
formation. VII., 187 f., see
Faith.

Gospels, I., 96, 98, 144, 155, 159,
219,253,395,399; II., 43ff.

Gospels, Gnostic, I., 143, 240 f.

Gospels, Canon of, II„ 38-43,
58 f.

Gothic Architecture, VI., 117
r, 160.

Gottschalk, v., 293 ff., 303 ; V.,
167.

Grace, III., 163 f, 166, 172,256
ff, 266 ff, 272 ff, V. Redemp-
tion.

Grace, Means of, II., 133 ff.,
13710 148, 375 f. ; III., 163
ff ; IV., 306 ff. ; v., 84 ff.,
155-168,305 ff; VII., 348 f,
259 f-

Grace, Western Doctrine of,
III., 33, 48, 66f., 69f., 84-91,
97, 167-210, 247 ff ; VI., 174
ff, 27s ff ; VII., 6off

Gratia operans eC cooperans,
VI., 379, 380-395.

Gratian's Collection of Laws,
VI., 19 f, 118 f., 123, 244.

Gratian, Emperor, III., 153 ;
IV.,93. lOi.

Greek Church, II., 194,209,214,
218, 226 f, 234 f, 336 f, 340,
249, 251, 265, 283 ; IV., 126
f., 364, 268, 275, 302 f., 314,
316, 332, 335, 345, 350 ff

Gregory I., Pope, III., 157, 195,
218, 352, 359, 307, 312 ; IV.,
239, 250, 258 ; v., 6, 12, 241,
243, 252, 261-273, 276, 290,
301, 306, 323 ; VI,, 55, 202,
241. 275.

Gregory II., IV.. 331 f

Gregory VII., VI., 4, 16 ff, 21,
51, 121 ; VII., 113.

Gregory XI., Pope, VI., 136,
165.

Gregory XIII., Pope, VII., 87.

Gregory XVI., Pope, VII.. 78.

Gregory of Alexandria, IV., 64,
7>-

Gregory of Berytus, IV., 4.

Gregory of Heimburg, VI,,
141.

296 HISTORY OF DOGMA. ^^^^^|

Gregory of Nazianzus, III., 129,

Heart-of- Jesus- Worship, VI., 9,

163 f., 182 f., 185, 193, 201,

197.

213.216, 222,226, 230, 30s-

Hebrews, Epistle to, I., S3, 90

309; IV., 26, 86. 95 f., 115

f., 96, 104, 135, 151. 176, 192,

ff., 159 f., 203, 2S2, 312, 329.

205, 295; 11., 48, 60; III.,

Gregory of Nyssa, 111.. 115,

198, 201, 253; VII., 24,41,

129, 139, 143, 156, 165, 174

162.

f,, 179, 182 f., 186-189, 200,

Hebrews, Gospel to, I., 100,

24s f., 259, 261, 276-279, 296

296, 301 f.

ff, 305-307 ; IV.. 85, 86 f.,

Hegel, I., 33 f- ; VII., 145.

115 f., iS9f-. 237. 252, 28of.,

Hegesippus, I,, 160, 185, 243,

286,293 ff., 30i,334f.

248,296.315; II., 33,41,74,

Gregory of Rimini, VI., 69.

237.

Gregory, Governor, IV., 256.

Hegias, I,, 358.

Gregory Thaumaturgus, 11.,

Heliand (Old Saxon Harmony

355; HI., loi ff., ii3ff., '33.

of the Gospels), V., ?■

183,209; IV., 56, 121, ISO.

Hell, and Penalties of, I., 59.

Gregoria, Empress, V., 271.

63, 174; II., 345. 377; III.,

Gregorius, Cardinal, VI., iS,

i85 f. ; VI., 260, ^ndpassitn.

118.

Helladius, IV., 192.

Gribaldo, VII.. 133.

Hellenic Science, v. Hellenism

Grotius. Hugo, VII., 79.

and til., 138, 146, 176; IV.,

Gunther, VII., 109.

7, 39 f-. 42. 85, 191, 335 ff.

Guilt, II., 293; v., 46 f., j;. Sin,

340, 343-

Original Sin.

Hellenism, I., 44 ff, 94 ff, 143,

Guitmund of Aversa, VI., 52.

170, 222 ff., 228 ff., 23S f.,

Gury, VII., 105, 109.

329. 355-358; II.,6ff, 12 ff.

Guyon, Mme. de, V., 106;

169-229, 233 f, 245 f ; III.,

VII., 100.

44S.

Hellenistic Jews, v. Alexan-

Hades, III., 188.

drism.

Hades, Descent to, I., 106, 172

Hellenizing, HI., 121, 144

ff.; II., 293, 306; III, 188.

Helvidius, IV., 315.

Hadrian, I., Pope, V., 282, 2S7,

Hemerobaptists, III., 320.

30s f.

Henoticon, IV., 227 ff, 237.

Hadrumetum, Monks of, V.,

Henry II., VI., 3, 7.

187, 246.

Henry HI., VI., 3, 7.

I . Hatzer, VII.. 131.

Henry IV. of France, VII.,

I Hagcmann, III., 55 f-. 88.

75-

L Haggada, I., 98 f.

Henry VI., VI., 1 1 8.

Il Hamel, VII., 81, 89.

Henry of Ghent, VI., 222.

I^H^ Hatch, I., 39, 127.

Henry of Langcnstein, VI.,

^^m Havet, I., 52, 5^, 9i. 135-

141.

^B GENERAL INDEX

FOR VOLS. I.-VII. 297

Henry of Nurdlingen, VI., lOO,

Sgf, 94, 119 f., 134 f; VII.,

"3-

220 f., and elsewhere.

Heraclas, II., 323.

Hierotheus, IV., 347.

Herakleon, I., 227, 234, 241,

High Priest. 11., 12S, 130, 163,

262; II., 121, 354; IV., 13,

377-

13;-

Hilary. III., 79, 147, 150, 202,

Heraclian, IV., 91.

301,312,315 ; IV.,60,64,72.

Heraclitus, II., iS4f. ; III., 54

75 ff., 78, 91, 104, 116, 140 f., 1

f. ; v., 191.

14s f, 162, 203, 237; v., 29,

Heraclitus, Epistles of, I., 109.

32 f.,49. 53. 53, 279-

Heraclius, Emperor, III., 157,

Hilary, The Elder, V., 187, 246.

354- f- .

Hilary of Aries V., 246.

Heraclius, Roman Heretic, V.,

HildebertofTours. YI., 51.

40, 55. 57.

Hinkniar, V., 246, 293-302, 308.

Heretics, v. Gnostics, the par-

Hippo, Synod of. III., 194, 198-

ticular Sects and II., 85-93,

Hippolytus, I., 126, 146, 168,

206; HI., 89; VI., 120,

243, 246, 304 f. ; II., 9 f., 16,

136-

33.37, 71-84, 92, 95, 96, 98 f.

Heretics, Disputes about, II.,

iiof, 129, 130, 153. 168,230

86f, 91, 116, 166; III., 95;

ff., 337, 243, 250 ff., 256 ff.,

IV.. 284.

261 ff, 272, 286 ff., 293 ff.

Hermas, L, 103, 106, 120, 142-

296, 299, 312 f. 319, 322, 380;

152, 155-203, 204-216, 239,

HI., 9> 14 ff- 51-88, 93, 103

250,287,306,325; II., 9, 15,

ff!, 114, 181. 202, 219, 242 ;

44, 48, 58 f., 73, 80-82, 98,

IV, 57, no, 171; v., 24 f.,

105, 109, 133, 143, 153. 156,

31, 53-

159, 178,200; III., 22. 28 ff..

History and Dogma, III., 270.

43ff. 196; v., 24 ; VI., 35 ;

History of Jesus, v. Preach-

VII., 41.

ing.

Hermes, VII., 109.

Hcensbrcech, Paul, VI I., 1 14.

Hermias, II., 196.

Hohenstaufens, V., 119.

Hermogenes, I., 259.

Hoffmann, Melchior, VIL, 132.

Heros,Gallican Bishop, V., 179.

Holiness of the Church, II.,

Herrenius, I., 348.

74 f, 94 ff., 105 f, 108-122;

Hesychastic Controversy, III.,

v., 146 f

251 ; IV., 353-

Homceans, III., 230; IV., 75-

Heterousiasts, IV., 74.

80, 89,91.

Hexaemeron, II., 213.

Homoiousians, IV., Zl, 36, 75

Hieracas and Hieracites, III.,

ff., 81 ff.. 91,99, 114 f, 126.

29, 98i^, 113, 128; IV., 8.

Homoios, !V., 31 f., 70 fC, 75 ff.

Hierarchy, v. Church, HI., 214

78 r, 81, 90.

f.. 236 f. ; IV.. 279 f, 298,

Homoiousios, 31 f. 74 ff, 82 ff..

307 f.; v., 152 f., 272; VI.,

99.

^H^

298 HISTORY

3F V^^^H

Homologoumena, Canon of,
11., 41 ff., 151 ; III., 196 f.

Homousios, I., 257 f., 260 ; 11.,
256, 259 f., 314,352 ff, 358;
III., 46, 49, 87 f., 91,94, 100,

Hyperorthodoxy, IV., I2I.

Hypokeimenon, IV., 56.

Hypostasis, IV., 19, 23, 33 f.,
56 f., 81, 84, 85 f., 90, 120,
124, and Chaps. II. and III.

117, 134, 140 f., 170 f.. 322,
228 ff.; IV., 3, i3ff> 23. 32

lamblichus, I., 127, 231, 348,

fl^. 49, S3. 55-90, 95 ff, 103,
114 ff, 119 ff, 122, 137, 153,

354 f-, 361.
Ibas of Edessa, IV., 199, 208,

154 f., 159; VII.. 325.
Honorius, Fope, IV., 254 fF.,

262.
Honorius of Autun, VI., 52.

224, 24s f.
Ideals, I., 103 f., 321 (original

and copy) 349.
Idealism, I., 337.

Hope (Faith, Love), I., 171-
Hormisdas, IV., 229 f. ; V., 255

IdiotK, III., 55.

Idolatry, relapse into, II., 108
f., 118 ff

Hosius, II. 23s ; III., 76; IV.,
II f., sof., SS ff-. 68,73, 76.
82, 104, 121.

Hugo of Langres, VI., 52.

Hugo of St. Victor, VI., 39, 42,

Ignatius, I., 100, 142 f., 151 f.,
156-203, 204-212, 219, 228,
248, 249, 252, 298 ; II., 23,
42,73, 128 f., 145, iSi f-. 156
f., 159. 239, 265, 295 ; III.,

44, 129,202, 204 f, 210, 213,

219, 230, 242 ff, 277.
Huguenots, VII., 92, 98 f., 238
Humanism, v. Renaissance.

65, 104, 127, 215. 237,353;
IV., 12, 45, 65, 280 f., 286;
VI., 227.
Ignatius of Loyola, V., 3, v.

Humanity of Christ, I., 190-

Jesuits.

196, especially 194 f., 258 f.,
322 ff; II., 370 f.. 373; HI.,
5 f., 21,76; IV., 138 ff, and
elsewhere ; V., 55.

Humbert, Cardinal, VI., 47.

Humiliates, VI., 90.

Hungarica Confessio, VII., 80.

Hussites and Huss,VI.,95, "4,

Ildefonsus, V., 263.

Illyrian Synod, IV., 118.

Illumination, I., 207 f. ; (De-
scription of Baptism) II.,
375 ff

Images, Worship of. III., 159
f. ; IV., 269, 272 f, 276, 304,
309, 317-330, 350; v., 282,

127, 137, 141 ff, 170 f., 239,

267 ; VII., 10, 16, 124,
Hymensus, HI., 47.
Hymns, Psalms and Odes,

Ecclesiastical and Gnostic,

I., 166, 188, 341.
Hypatia, I., 356.
Hypatius of Ephesus, IV., 242.
Hyperius, I., 26.

292, 304 ff, 309 ; VI., 142,
315; VII., 54
Images, Strife and Controversy
about, III., 159 f.; IV., I95,

257, 263 f., 314, 317*330; v.,

304 ff , 309.
Imitation of Jesus, I., 6j.
Immaculate Conception, V.,

23s; VII., 99.

^H^^H GENERAL INDEX

FOR VOLS. L-VH. 299

Immortality, I., ii8, 170 ff.,

142 f. ; IV., 284; v., 160,

230; II., 169-229 passim..

17s ff, 202, 229 f. ; VII.,

240 ff. ; III., 164 f., 178,25s

125, 152,250,251 f

ff, 316; IV., 308 f.

Infralapsarianism, V., zi6.

Impanation, VI., 2^7.

Infusion of Grace, VI., 289.

Imperialist Church, II., 122 ff. ;

Innocent I., Pope, III., 34,

in., 25, .49.

199; v., 172, 181 f., 282;

Imperialist Opposition, VI.,

VI., 202; VII., 41.

139 f-

Innocent II., Pope, VI., 135.

Incarnation, I., 190, 193 f., 195,

Innocent III., Pope, VL, 16 f..

327 f.; II., 278.

118, 121, 124, 128.

Incarnation of Christ, I., 330 ;

Innocent IV., Pope, VI., 128,

II., 10, 29 f., 218 ff, 240 ff,

165 ; VII., 7.

266 f., 27s ff, 345, itT, m :

Innocent X., Pope, VII., yy.

III., 5. 8. 26-50, 6s, 69, 71,

105.

96, 109, 163 ff., 266, 272 ff,

Innocent XL, Pope, VII., 100,

286, 288-304, 30s f ; IV., 19,

106.

37 f; 138 ff., 168 ff, and in

Innocent XIII., Pope, VII.,

general Chap. III., 276, 286

98.

f., 294 f., 299, 314 f., 318 ff.

Inquisition, VI., 120.

329,335 f, 351 ; v., 130,288

Inspiration, 11., 44, 54 f., 57,

ff ; VI., 73 f.

63 f, 340. 347 f., 357; III.,

Incarnation of the Holy Spirit

199 f., 305, 315 f., 228 ; VI.,

in Christ, I., 360; HI., 7, 10,

156; VII., 81.

54,62, 107, III.

Intention, VI., 213 f., 218 f.

Incarnation of the Devil, V.,

235 ; VIL, 45.

264.

Intercessions, IV.. Chap. IV.;

Incense, VII., 56.

v., 265 f., 328 f.

Individnalism, I., 321 ; III.,

Intermediate State, III., 188 f ;

109; v., 62 ff ; VI., 8 ff..

see Purgatory.

95 ff; VII., 18 f, 212.

Invisible Church, VI., 138 f

Indulgences, V., 328 f. ; VI.,

Iranian, VI., 265.

142, 250 f., 259 ff. ; VII., 14,

Irensus, I., 126, 136, 150, 163,

55 f., 219.

17s f, 19s, 204, 211, 239,

Ineffabilis deus. Bull, VII., 99.

243, 249 ff., 252, 2661., 285,

In eminent!, Bull, VII., 94.

299; II., 10 f., 13, 16, 24,

Infallibility of the Church and

26-29, 33 f-, 43-66, 68 ff.

of the Councils, III., 208,

74 ff., 78 ff.. 83 f, go ff, 106

215 ff., 221 ; v., ISO.

f., 128-134, 139. 142 f-. 145,

Infallibility of the Pope, VI.,

152 f., 157 f, 161 f., 230-318

123 ff ; VII., 5, 82 f, iio-

f, 328 ff., 343 f., 351-367, 374,

117.

377, 380 ff; HI.. II, 132,

Infant Baptism, I., 207; 11.,

184, 206, 215 f, 220 f., 229,

^^^^f

300 HISTORY OF DOGMA.

256, 261, 265, 268, 279, 290,

Jerusalem. Symbol. III., lS8 ;

297, 301-304, 307.309; IV.,

IV., ss, 98 £

14- 23, 34,4s. 65, IlOf.. IIS,

Jerusalem, Synods of, IV.. 63,.

121, 138, 146, 174, 237. 315,

65,71,244; v., i;9. 189.

333; v., 42; VI., 276, 315;

Jesuits, VI.. 163 f.; VII., 42,

VII., 228.

73 f., 76 f.. 80 II, 86 ft, 89 IT.,

Irena;us of Tyre, IV., 198, 209.

91 ff., 101-109, 160, 238.

Irene, IV., 326.

Jesus Christ. I., 41 f., 58 fT., 80

Iro-Scottish Church, V., 335.

fr.. 155-160. 162 f.. 1S3-203,,

Irvingites, VI., 90.

224.245.323-332; II., 3, 271

Isidorus, I., 358 ; IV., 190,301;

f, 27s ff; 32s. 339. 341 ff-

v.. 274. 282, 293, 311 ; VI.,

3SI. 367 fC, 3771 III-, 2-50,

30.

62 ff.. 108 f., 121 to IV., 353

Islam, V. Mohammed.

passim (111., 32S C, 330i V.,

Italians, V., 7, 243 f. ; VII.,

124 ff.. 201 f., 2041,264 £,.

127 f-. 132 ff.

270. 283 fr,; VI. 73 f., 187

ivo, VI., 269.

ff., VII., 146-162, 182, 196 ff.

214, 242 f.

Jacobazzi, VI., 126.

Jesus, Love for. III., 129 f. ;

Jacopone, VI., 104, 115.

v., 10, 28, 32, so {.. 55 ; VI..

James, and Epistle of, I., 255,

8ff. 13, 102 ft; VII, IS.

287; II., 48, 98; IV., 33<5;

Jews, Spanish, VI., 1 50.

v., S7, 207; VI., 269; VII.,

Jewish Christianity, I., 89 ff...

34.

141. 161, 247, 269, 277 f..

Jansen and Jansenism, I, 136 ;

287-317; II.. 49, 276, 370;.

1 VII., y^, gt-ioi, 105 f., 238.

IV., 21.

Jerome, I., 227, 300 f ; II., 100,

Jewish Christianity, Gnostic

161 ; III., 77, gy, 128 {., 130,

(Syncretistic) I., 192, 243 ff...

'5°. IS3. 1S3, 186, 188, 191,

289 f, 302 ff, 311 ff.; III..

194, 196 f. 200, 202, 22s,

II. 37'

259, 2S2, 299 ; IV., 90, 102,

Jewish-Christian Writings. I...

158, 239, 312, 31S. 341 ff"-;

294 ff

V, 25, 29 {., 49, 56, 171 f.,

Jezira. Book. I., 304.

176 ff., 190, 212, 220, 31a;

Joachim of Fiore, VI.. 15. 94 f.,.

VII., 41.

112. 139. 182.

Jerusalem {Earthly and

Job. III.. 193.

Heavenly), I., 168, 320 f.; II.,

Jobius. IV.. 156.

75 f. ; VI., 8.

John IV.. IV.. 356 f.

Jerusalem, Church of, I., 242,

John VIII.. v.. 305.

299 f.; HI-, 223, 227 f.;

John XXIL. VI., 95. lOS, 112,

IV., 102.

125, 162, 262.

Jerusalem, Place of Christ's

John of Baconthorp, VI., 162.

Reign, I., 168 ; II., 297 f.

Johnof Jandun, VI.. 139.

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. I.-VH.

John of Paltz, VI., 351.
Johnof Paris, VI., 239.
John of Salisbury, VL, 151.
John the Baptist, I., 64, 106.
John, Baptism of, I., 207 ; III.,

III.,

34-

John, Apostle, I.
6.

Johannine Writings, I., 83, 90
f., 96 f., 104 f, 135, 170, 186,
189, 192, 203, 211, 234, 250,
328 ff. ; II., 23, 32,41 f., 95,
99 f., 238, 298; III., IS ff.,
18, 63, 71 ; IV., 22, 45.

John, Acts of, I., 164, 184, 193
f. 196,241,254,259.

John Cassian, IV., 313.

John of Damascus, III., 148,
156, 157, i8r, 214, 222,23s,
240, 243, 248 ff., 252, 256 f.,
262, 2S3-287, 302, 308 ; IV.,
13, I2S ff, 233 f, 264-267,
301 f., 316, 322 ff, 32S, 350
f. ; v., 277, 289, 309, 314;
VI., 29, 187, 190; VII., 15.

John of Oliva, VI., 94.

John Philoponus, III., 249;
IV., 125, 240 ; VI., 29, 36.

John of Antioch, IV., 183, 186
f., 191 f, 201.

John of Ephesus, IV., 226, 240,
251.

John of Jerusalem, IV., 341 ;

v., 177 ff.

Jonas of Orleans, V., 308.
Jordanus of Osnabriick, V., 8.
Joris,VII., 132.
Josephinism, VII., 80.
Joseph's Marriage. VI., 273.
Josephus, the Jew, 1., 107 f.
Josephi Historia, VI., 265.
Jovian, IV., 90, 153.
Jovinian, III., 12S, 188; IV.,

31S ; v., 28, 56 f., 174, 183,
212.

Jubilee Indulgence, VI., 266.

Judaizing, I., 287 f, 290 f., v.
also Judaism.

Judaism, I.,43 ff., 148, 168, 177
ff., 223, 281 f, 287 ff, 302 f ;
II., 175, 300 f, 306 ff., 311,
348; III., 234, 236, 267 f
284, 331 f.; IV., II, 21,27,
60, 72, 120, 122, 169, 217,

319 f.; VI., 43, 26s; VII.,
106, 136.

Judaism, Alexandrian, I., 53 f,

307; II., 175.
Jude, Epistle of, I., 248; II.,

20, 48.
Judge, Jesus the, I., 60, 78 f,

185, 186 f.
Julian (Emperor), I., 355 ; HI.,

146, 151, 187 ; IV., 79, 83,

90, 93. 309-
Julian, the Apoliinarist, IV.,

153-
Julian of Eklanum, V., 171 ff.,

186 ff, 18S-203, 235, 256 ;

VI.. 303.
Julian of Halicarnassus, III,,

171; IV., 237.
Julian of Kos, IV., 202, 205.
Julianists (Gaians), IV., 38S,
Julius Africaiius, II., 124, 322 ;

IV., 171.
Julius of Rome, III., 216, 225 ;

IV., 66 ff., 104, 150, 187,

201.
Junilius, III., 150, 182, 193, 198,

201, 204 ; v., 30, 243, 283,
Jurisdiction of the Priests, VI.,

255 f, 264 f, 272.
Jurisprudence, v. Legal Con-
ceptions,
Jurists, Roman, I., 125,

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Justification. V., 36, 51, 88 f,

' 204 ff. ; VI., [33, 224, 229 f.
231, 288ff, ioSff ; VII., 55-
71, 160 f., 20i5 ff, 214.

Justin I., Emperor, III., 154;
IV., 229 f.

Justin II., Emperor, IV., 251.

Justin, I., 100, 102, 105, 106,
114, 142, 144, 148, is;, 160,
163, 166, 168 f., 171, 178 f,
185 ff, 188, 191 f., 197, 201 f,
203, 204-216, 243, 245, 248,
250, 266 f., 284, 295, 315,
346; IL, 7, 10, II, 21-22 f.,
34,4if., 57, 74, 108, 123, 145,
169-230, 178 ff., 202 f., 219 ff.,
231,237,239, 243, 272, 296,
299.301, 326, 3S4; III., 95 ;
IV.,iio, 121 f., 150,274,294,
314; v., 79, 226; VI., 35,
197.

Justin, Gnostic, I,, 237, 254.

Justina, Empress, IV., 104.

Justinian (EmperorJ, I., 357
III., 148, i54f, 156, 186,211
217, 248 ; IV., 229, 231 f.
241-351, 353, 256 f., 263, 330,
348 ff ; VII., 177.

Justinian of Valentia, V., 282.

Juvenal of Jerusalem, IV., 208,
213, 216, 218, 224.

Kallistus, V. Calixtus.

Kant, VII., 142.

Katastases, III., 280 f. 284,

302; IV., 169; VII., 143.
Kautz, VII., 131.
Kenosis, IV., 140, 161 f. ; VII.,

244.
Kerygma, v. Preaching.
Kessler, III., 316-336.
King, Christ as, I., 322.
Kingdom of God (of Christ), I.,

58, 61 ff.. 141. 158, 168 ff.,
174, 182, 203, 261 ; II., 73,
395 f ; v., 151-155; VI., 5
ff., 133.

Keys, Power of, v. Repentance.

Kledonius, IV., 119.

Kliefoth, I., 35 ; VII., 24.

Knowledge (and Sources of), I^
129 f^ 143 f, 147 f.. 165 ff.,
181 ff., 21! f, 222 ff. ; II.,
325, 342, 346, 349, V. Author-
ity and Reason.

Kollner, VII., 80.

Lactantius, I., 354; II., 17,

244, 255, 262, 296; III., yy

ff, 247, 250; IV., 117; v.,

22, 173, 190.
Laity and Lay -Christianity,

III., 3 ff ; VI., no, IIS f-,

120.
Lamennais, VII., yS, 109.
Lampsacus, Synod of, IV., 90.
Lanfranc, VI., 32, 48 ff
Lange, I., 31.
Langres, Synod of, V., 298,

300.
Laodicea, Synod of, II., 45 ;

in., 193, 252.
Laodiceans, Epistle to, VII..

41.
Last Judgment, L, 58 f, 63, 66,

167, 174 ; n., 377 ; in., 42,

iS9f
Laurentius Valla, VI., 172,
Lateran Council of 649, IV.,

258 f.
Lateran Council of 863, V.,

307-
Lateran Council of 1 123, VI.,

I7ff:, 135-
Lateran Council of 1139, VI,,

17 ff.

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. I,-VII.

303

Lateran Council of 1179, VI.,
17 f., 188, 203.

Lateran Council of 1215, III.,
224; VI., 17, S3 f, I30, 176,
182 f, 203, 232 f, 24s, 253.

Lateran Council of 1515, VI„
127,

Law, Mosaic, I., 43 f , 67, 76 f.,
107 f, 176, 289 ff, 295 f, 302
ff., 314; II., 301-311, 348.

Law, New, I., 59, 91, 146, 171,
294 f ; II., 16, 33, 74, lOi ff,
131, 139, 214 f, 227 ; III.,
172 f, and Chap. V.; V., 15,
26, 201 f, 219, 264 f. ; VI.,

13! ff., 137 f-, 174 f.; VII.,
150, 204 f

Law and Dogma, III., 185 f,
257 f, 266 ff.

Law, Question of, in the Apos-
tolic Age, I., 86 ff.

Laxism, v. Probabilism.

Lazarus, Gallican Bishop, VI.,
179.

Legal Conceptions in Dog-
matic, II., 135 f, 235 f, 257,
280, 282 ; III., 310 f ; IV.,
122 f, 136 f., 144 f ; v., S
ff, 15 f, 29, 52, 262 ff, 271 ;
VI., 16-23, 118 ff ; VII., 9,
14, 101 ff., 109.

Leibniz, II., 344 ; V, 3, 74.

Leidrad of Lyons, V, 288, 292.

Leo I., II., 16S, 235, 276, 381 ;
III., 94, 148, 153. 157. 217,
224, 226, 307, 312, 314, 336;
IV., 131 f, 145, 184, 192 ff.,
i97i 199. 200-226, (Ep. ad
Flav., 202, 205), 226 ff., 235
f, 253, 399, 343 ; v., 241,
350, 263.

Leo III., Pope, IV., 133; V.,
304-

LeoIX., Pope, VI., 16, 18.
Leo X., Pope, VI., 127; VII.,

6,73-
Leo I., Emperor, IV., 227.
Leo the Armenian, IV., 328.
Leo the Isaurian, IV., 320 f
Leo, Russian Patriarch, III.^

165-
Leontius of Antioch, IV., 3.
Leontius of Byzantium, IIl.^

50, 154; IV., 125,232 ff,236,

240 ff, 253, 262 ff, 299, 346

ff., 350; v., 2S9; VII., 15.
Leontius in Gaul, V., 253.
Leporius, IV., 185.
Lerinum, V., 247, 256.
Lcssing, I., 29.
Lessius, VII., 81, 89.
Letter of Holy Scripture, III.,.

199 f-. 325 f ; IV., 306.
Leucius, V. Acts of John and

IV., 303.
Leucippus, v., 191.
Libanius, IV., 88 f
Liberius, IV., 73, 77, 91 ; V,

59.
Library, Theological, 11., 322.
Licinius, IV., 9 f
Lie, v., 222 f.

Life, Ascetic, v. Morachism.
Life, Eternal, and Resurrection,

I., 84, 118, 145 f, 169 ff., 211

f ; 11., 126, 140, 345 ; III.,
Chaps. II., v., (Part II.);
v., 202, V. also Deification,
VI., 40 f, 293 f. ; VII., 142
ff.. 153-

Life, Active, VI., 107 ff. ; VII.,
190.

Light and Darkness, III., 324.

Light-God, III., 323 f.

Liguori, Alphonso, VII., 108

304

HIBTORV OF DOGMA.

Likeness, II., 267 ff, 272 f. ;
ni., 256 f., 260 ff!, 272 ff:,
283.

Likeness, used of Son of God,
IV., 14,22,25,29,31, 35, 52,
66,74.

Limbus, VI., 262.

Lipsius, Justus, VII., 152.

Literature, Christian, I., 92-98,
142 f., 154 f., 158 f, 240 f. ;
11., 48f.,6i.

Literature, Gnostic, I., 234,
240 f.

Literature, J udEeo- theological,
I., 321.

Literature, Eccl esiastical- pro-
fane, II., 62 f.

Liturgies, II., 90; III., 159,
212, 269, 272, 274 f., 276.

Liturgy and Dogma, !., 333.

Livania, Widow, V., 177.

Logos, I., 97, 104, III f., 193,
19s, 314, 328 f.; IL, 6, 10, 13
f., 31, 38, 180 ff., 206 ff., 211
ff, 263ff., 267f., 283ff., 314,
317, 326 ff. 338 f., 342, 34S,
.350. 352-361, 365-380; III.,
1-50, 51-80, 82, 86 ff., 90 ff-,
■94, 101, io6, log, 112, 117,
254, 270, 289 ff ; IV., 3 ff-
16 ff., 28 ff., 38 ff, 54, 65, 70,
72, 87, see Chaps. II. and
III.

Logos Christology, Opponents
of, III., 1-14.

Loman, I,, 52.

Lombardian Poor, VI., 90 f.,
94-

Longinus, I., 158, 348.

Loofs, I., 38; VII., 29.

Lord, Designationof God, Christ
and the Emperor, I., 8r f.,
los, 119 f., 183 f.

Lord, Writings about the, I.,

159; II.. 44f
Lord, Words of the, I., 98, 156

ff., \66. 17s ; II., 34, 41 ff.,

49,65 r., 121.
Lord's Supper, v. Eucharist,
Lothar of Thuringia, V., 399.
Louis of Bavaria, VI., 95-
Louis XIV., King, VII., 75 f.,

96. 107.
Louis the Pious, IV., 328 ; V.,

277. 295. 307 ; VI.. 31.
Louis the Holy, VI., 119.
Lucian, the Martyr, and his

School, II., 135, 322 ; III.,

II, 49. 112, 116, 134, 136,

201, 243 ; IV., I ff., 19 f., 41,

51-59.67, III, 146, 157, 166,

333, 345-
Lucian, the Scoffer, I., 120.
Lucifer, of Cagliari, IV,, 60,

73, 83, 104; v., 25, 28.
Lucius III., Pope, VI., 90.
Luke, Gospel of, I., 56 ; II., 48

f.
Luke, Prologue to, I., 160.
Lupus of Ferrieres, V., 297,
Luther, I., 2 ff., 25, 136; II.,

7 ; v., 41, 82, no, 162, 2:9,

237 ; VI., 117, 137. 146, 170,

266, 307 ; VII,, 10 f., 24, 56,

105, 108, 119, 126, 134, 142,

168-274.
Lyons, II., 17, 35, 97, 100, 106,

132. 160. 296; v., 299 ; VI.,

312.
Lyons, Synods of, V., 252 ; VI.,

17, 130, 189.
Lyonnese Poor, VI., 90.

Macarius, Teacher of Lucian,

IL, 322.
Macarius Magnes, I., 354.

GENERAL INDEX t"01i VOLS. L-VII.

305

Macarius of Antioch, IV., 260
f., 301.

Macarius of Jerusalem, IV., 54.

Macarius the Great, III., 129 f.,
173, 268, 272, 300 ; IV.. 380,
293 f, 313.

Maccabees, Fourth Book of, I.,
log.

Machiavelli, VII., iS.

Macedonians, III., 213; IV.,
5, 91, 94 ff., 114 ff. ; v., 96.

Macedonius, IV., ii4f.

Magdeburg Centuries, I., 26.

Magicians, I., 239 f.

Magnentius, IV., 72 f.

Maimonides, VI., 150, 265.

Mainz, Council of, V., 295.

Maistre, de, VII., 78.

Makhion, III., 39.

Mamertius Claudianus, V., 258.

Man, doctrine of, V., Apologists
and II., 267 ff, 273 f., 283 f.,
363 f, etc., etc.

Man, Son of, I., 64, ig$, 275 ff".,
371.

Mandeans, I., 310. ; III., 330.

Manelfi, VII., 132.

Mani and Manichaeans, I., 285 ;
II., 40, 49; III., 51, 98, 153,
163, igi, 234, 242, 246, 249 f ,
258, 316-336; IV., 8, 72, 128,
206 f, 221, 26r, 308, 313,
323, 340, 344; v., 33 f, S3,
56, 79, 96, 1 30, 124, 127 f,
187, 197, 203, 212, 219, 239,
253-

Marathonius, IV., 118.

Marburg Articles, VII., 26.

Marcus Aurelius, I., 122, 127.

Marcellus of Ancyra, I., 24;
II.. 237; III., 81, 88, 142,
192, 221, 280; IV., 20, 63,
64 ff., 67 ff., 71, 74, 82, 86,

89, 91, 102, 112, 121, 127,
132, 149, 151 f., i59, 166,
333-

Marcellus, Pope, V., 40.

Marcia II., 156, 159.

Marcian, Emperor, III., 224,
234; IV.,3I3 ff, 220 ff,22S.

Marcion and his Church, I., 89,
136, 143 f, 14S, 162, 196,203,
227, 234, 240, 248, 253 ff.,
259 ff., 266-284, 291, 296,
312; 11., I, 9, 23 f^-. 38 ff.,
66 f, 77, 99, 109, 121, 123,
138, 158 f., 230 ff., 238, 247-

252, 255, 263, 277, 279, 2S2,
301,351 ff; III., 12, 53,87,
93, 114, 192, 234, 307. 321,
331,334; IV., 138, 344; v.,
73, 212,226.

Marcus, Gnostic, I., 239 ff., 250,
263 ; II., 128.

Marcus of Arethusa, IV., 77.

Marcus, Spanish heretic, V.,
2S2.

Marinus, I., 358.

Maris, Persian, IV., 246.

Maris of Chalcedon, IV., 3.

Marius Mercator, V., 34, 171 ff,
188, 282.

Maronites, IV., 263.

Marriage, Abstinence from.
Criticisms of, and Legisla-
tion upon, I., 238, 277, 308 ;
II., 99, 102, 105, 107, 109 f.,
132; III., 110, 128 ff ; v.,
195,209,211 f., 214, 220, 230,

253, 261, 264; VII., 194.
Marriage, Sacrament of, VI.,

120, 202, 272 ff.; VII., S3f.
Marsanes, I., 231.
Marseilles, V., 246 f.
Marsilius of Padua, VI., 139.
Martiades, I., 231.

306 HISTORY OF ^^^^^^^H

Martin I., Pope, IV., 258.

Mekhizedec I., 198; III., 26,

Martin v., Pope, VI.. 140.

64, 98.

Martin of Tours, IV., 313 ; V.,

Meletians in Egypt, V., 41.

59-

Meletian Schism, Meletians,

Martin of Troppau, VI., 125.

I v., 7, 59,62 f

Martyrs and Martyrdom, I,,

Meletians of Antioch, IV, 84.

216; 11., 35, 102, 107, 132.

89 f , 92 ff, 95 f.

139 f.; Ill,, 126, 18S, 219;

Meletius of Lycopolis, IV., 4.

IV., 308 £.318.

Mellissus, v., 191.

Mary V. Bearer of God, Virgin

Meljto, I., 179, 187, 196 f.; II.,

Birth and III., 165 ; IV., 25,

9,26,43, 106, 123, 133, 152.

37, 168, 172, 177, iSi, 200,

190, 231, 237 f., 243, 255,

308, 314 ff ; v., 330, 226,

264, 278 ff., 296, 299; III.,

23s, 264, 310 f.; VI.,9i,273>

65, 193; IV, 14, 148.

312 ff; vir., 60, 84,99-

Memnon of Ephesus, IV.. 186.

Mass, V. Eucharist

Memra. I., 104.

Materialism, I., 337.

Menander, I., 244.

Matthew, Gospel of, II., 48.

Mendicant Order, VI., 85 ff.,

Matthias, 1., 255.

no f., 123, 130 f., 143, 150 f.

Matilda of Saxony, VI., 3,

Menedemus,, Cynic, 1., 120.

Matter, I., 256, 267, 351; II.,

Mennas of Constantinople, IV.,

213, 249. 345, 361, 370 ff.;

186.

III., 96 f.

Menno Simons and Men-

Maxentius, Scythian Monk, V.,

nonites, VII., 1 19, 121.

255-

Menophantus of Ephesus, IV.,

Maximilla, 1 1.. 97 ff.

Maximinus Thrax. II., 71,

Merits and Merit of Christ, II.,

168.

132 f, 294 f.; III., 310 f. ;

Maximus, Confessor, IV., 127,

v., 18 f., 25. 85 ff, 208 f.,

252, 257 fT, 265, 282, 320,

234. 26s ff., 326 ff.; VI.. 55.

327. 3S0 f- ; v., 274, 277 ;

66,78 f., 189 ff., 220, 225 f..

VI., 30.

251, 263 f., 275 f-, 280 ff.,

Maximus, Candidate for Con-

282-295 (Merita de condjgno ■

stantinople, IV., 95 f.

et de congruo); VI., 301 ff..

Maximus, Philosopher, I., 355.

308 ff ; VII., 67 ff.

Maximus of Antioch, IV., 2 16.

Meritum de congruo et de

Maximus of Jerusalem, IV., 71,

condigno, V., 254 ; see

Maximus, the Usurper, IV.,

Merits.

103.

Merswin, VI., 113.

Meier, F. K., I., 32.

Messianic Passages, in Vol. I.

Melanchthon, L, 25 ; VII., 26,

passim., and III., 201 f

131. 17s, 198. 200, 213,239,

Messiah (Heathen Idea of), I.,

241 f., 254, 262 ff., 266.

118,243.

GENERAL INDEX

FOR VOLS. L-VIL 307

Messiah (Jewish Idea of), I., $ r,

Mommsen's Catalogue of Holy

60, 64 f , I02 f., 113,244,299,

Scriptures, VI., 25.

322 f.

Monachism, I., 263 ; II., 13, 22,

Metatron, I., 104,

123 f.. 300; III., 3, 110 fl".,

Methodius, I., 126, 304; II.,

127, 140 f., 153 f- 159 f..

13 f. ; III., 100, 104-H3, 129,

174 f,, 180. 182, 187. 191.

132 f.. 146. 1S7, 270, 2915.

238, 243, 249, 259, 262 f..

397, 3CJ0 ; IV.. 45, 59. 161,

298, 328; IV, 89, 191, 202,

280 f., 292 {., 332 ; v., 28.

224, 226 f., 23s, 245, 257 f.,

Metrodorus, II., 58.

282 ff., 299, 307 f.. 318 ff,

Metropolitan Constitution, II.,

325, 336, 345 f- ; v., 10 f.,

134; III., 126, 149; v., 24t.

27 ff. ; 56 ff., 58, 138,171 ff.,

Michael, the Angel, I., 180;

209. 253. 261, 262 ff, 324 ff.;

III, 252.

VI., 2 ff., 85 ff. no, 298;

Michael, the Stammerer, IV.,

VII., 180 f., 190 ff, 215.

328 ; v., 307.

Monarchtans and Monarchian-

Microcosm, III., 259,277, 285,

ism, I., 196, 331; II., 14.66,

293.

92, 101, 233, 266, 352 ff. ;

Migetius, v., 281.

III,, 8-SO, 51-88,93.

Milan, Synods of, IV, 71, 73,

Monastic Associations, III.,

lOI.

99.

Milan, Chair of, 249 f.

Monergism, IV., 252 ff

Miltiades, II., 190, 237,243.

Moneta, VI., 230.

Minucius Felix, I., I30, 133;

Monophysites, III., 154, 157,

II.,7, 134, 169 f., 196(1:; v.,

170 f., 185. 197, 209, 213,

23.

237 f, 299, 301 ; IV., 124,

Miracle, I., 6S ; H., 339 f; HI.,

141, 172 ff, 178 ff; and

125; v., 124; VI., 186.

Chapter III. See particu-

Mithras, I., 118,243; II., 138,

larly 222 ff., 227 ff., 241 f.,

141 ; IV.. 294, 305.

252 ff., 286, 299 ; v., 27S ff. ;

Modalism and ModaHsts, I.,

VI., 188 f.

1S7; II., 263, 281 fC, 371;

Monotheism, Christian, I., 179

III., 13, 35 ff.. 51-88, V. also

ff., 189; III., 7 ff., 70, 78, 85,

Sabellianism, VI., 182; VII.,

103.

199.

Monotheism, Greek, I., 117 ff.

Modalism, Naive, I., 182^,196,

Monothelite Controversy, HI,,

259,275; III., 54.

49. 15;; IV., 235, 252-367;

Modestus, 11., 237.

v., 279.

Mohammed, v. Muhammed.

Montanists and Montanus, I.,

Moghtasilah, Confession of,

120, 157, 168, 196, 238,391 ;

III.. 320, 330.

II., r f:,43, S3 ff, 65, 84, 92,

Molina, VII.. 86, 89 ff.

94-108, 121, 131, 152. 160,

.Molinos, VIL, 100.

299; HI., 6, 9 ff, 53, 108 f.

HISTORV OF DOGMA.

Moral Precepts and Morality
(Christian), I., 141, 153 ff!,
174; II., 22 f., 31 f., 65 f,
94, 98 f., loi ff., 106, 147,
170 ff. 214 f.; III., 172 ff.,
25s ff., 262 ff. ; v.. Chapters
III. and IV; VI„ 133 f.

Morality, Twofold, I., 23S ; II.,
107, 123, 125, 336 ; III., 2nd
Part, Chapters I. and 11.,
326 ff ; v., 47, 56 f., 209 ;
VI., 297 f., 315; VII., 215.

Morality, Gnostic, I., 261 f.

Morality, Manicha;an, III., 326
ff

Morality and Dogma, III., 172
f., 187; IV., 309 ; also. Chap-
ters IV. and v.. Vol. III. ;
Vols, v., VI., and VII.,
passim.

Moralism, I., 170 ff., 20O; II.,
7, 1 1, 14, 169-229, 267, 269 f.,
272, 336; III., 78 ; v., 23,
52 ; VII., 134 f, and else-
ivhere.

Morgan, V., 170.

Mortal Sins, II., 108 f., 118,

121, 139 f.; v., 196 f.; VI.,

224 f., 234, 247 f, 258, 264 ;

VII., 69.
Moses, Five Books of, I., 107 f.,

320; 11., 362; III., 40, 325.
Mosheim, I., 27 f
Miinscher, I., 31.
Munzer, VII., 131.
Muhammed and Muhammed-

anism, !., 306, 310; III., 187,

190, 320, 329, 334 ; IV., 126,

270, 319, 344; v., 108, 282 f.;

VI., 43-
Muratorian Fragment, I., 158,

234; 11., 43 ff-, 75. 107; III.,

205.

Musanus, I., 238 ; II., 237.

Mystagogic Theology, III.,
IS5 f-; IV.. 271 ff., 279 ff.,
301, 318 ff, 335 ff., 346 f.;
V. also Methodius.

Mysteries and Mystery Wor-
ship, Mysteriosophy and
Mystagogy, I., 1 17 f., 151,
206 ff., 225 f, 231 f, 240,
253, 260, 263,269,354; II.,
S, 10. 13, 17, 129 ff., 137,
140 f., 145 f. ; III., 157 ff-
1S2 f., 1S5, 213, 235, 236 f.,
251 ff., 266, 268, 282, 294,
300; IV., 49, 171, 180,268-
330, 351; v., 291, 305 f.,

309 f.

Mysticism, I., r68 f, 358, 361 £ ;
II., 14, 80, 252 f., 272 f., 344;
III., 31, 109, 15s, 270, 298 ff.;
IV., 222, 240, 271, 279 ff,

335 ff- 346 f-; v., 106 ff.,

238, 278 ff., 291, 305 f; VI.,

24 ff, 33 ff, 97-108. 113 ;

VII., 13, 122 ff, 12S f., r^,

186.
Mysticism, Spurious, VII., lOO.
Mythology, I., 112, 123, 229 ff.,

340 f., 3SS; ni., 332; and

Vol. III., 121, to Vol. IV.,

353,/(7jjwK.

Naassenes, I,, 340 f., 254 f.

Napoleon L, Emperor, VII.,
77-

NarcissusofNeronias,IV.,4, 57,

Natalius, III., 23.

Nature (in the Trinity), II.,
257; (Christology), I., 331 ;
II., 279 f ; see also Hypos-
tasis, Substance, Physis.

Natura et Gratia, II., 269 ; V.,
33. 49 f-. 65 f.

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. I.-VIL

309

Nature, Christian View of, I.,
176, 179 ff.; v., ii4f.; VI.,
23-

Nazarenes, I., 301, 304,

Neander, I., 32 f. ; III., 53;
VII., 26.

Nectarius of Constantinople,
IV., 95, 103.

Nemesius, IV., 150.

Neocaisarea, Synod of, II., 122.

Neoplatonism, I., 122 f, 231,
233. 336-364; n., II, 14,
176, 327 f., 344; III., 2, 25,
55 f-. 79, 91. 96. "7, 134.
15s, 158, 189, 199, 240, 242 f,
248 {., 253 f., 258, 269, 316,
335; IV., 16, 39, 88, 132,
14s, 271, 274,282, 294, 307,
32S, 333, 337 f., 346. 349;
v., 33 ff.. 52, 56. 84, loi f.,
no ff., 136 f, 131 f, 274,
298; VI., II, 29, 33 ff., loi,
104, 184.

Neopythagoreans, I., 123, 345,

Nepos, Bishop, II., 299.

Nero, the returning, II., 297;
III., 189.

Nestorians and Nes tonus, I.,
292; III., 32, 40, 171, 193,
201, 212, 238; IV., 124 ff,,
180-189, ^nd passim in
Chap. III., 205, 299, 316,
324,344; v., 171, 188, 2SS,
279 ff., 287; VI., 40, 187,
198; VII., 262.

New Testament, I., 48 f., 106,
13s, 159, 162, 253 ff., 299;
11., I ff, 15.19, 35 f., 38 to
66 {39 critical principles),
87, 93, 103, 106, 112, 121,
151, 230 ff,, 289, 301 ff,, 348;
III., 6, 12 f,; see Holy Scrip-
ture.

Nicaea, ist Council and Canons
of, II., 147, 154. 166; III-.
75, TOO, 117, 139. 151. 216,
223, 225, 229; IV., 12, 26,
SO ff., 65, 72, 83, 219; V, 31,
47-

Nicaea, Synod of 787; III.,

218, 252; IV., 303.304, 311.

314, 316, 326 ff. ; v., 306 f,

3io;VII., 5+

Nicetio-ConstantinopoHtan
Symbol, III., 2cg f, 216 f.,
217; IV., 51 ff., 64 f., 67 f,,
95 ff., 106, 132, 134, 186, 201,
209, 214, 221, 227.

Nice, Synod of. III., 230; IV.,

77 r.

Nicephorus, III., 83.

Nicetas of Romatiana, V., 244.

Nicolas of Cusa, VI., 141, 171,
310; VII., 123.

Nicolas of Methone, VI,, 51.

Nicolas I., Pope, VI., 7, 16, 18

Nicolas II., Pope, VI., 50.

Nicole, VII., 105.

NihiJianism, VI., 1S8.

Nilus, IV., 300,

Nisibis, School, III., 193, 205.

Nitrian Monks, IV., 342,

Nitzsch, I., 37 ; III., 36, 84; V!,,
27.

Noailles, VII,, 96.

Notitus and School, I,, 196 ;
III., 51, 52 ff., 57 ff., 62 ff.,
66, 80, 84,

Nominalism, III,, 55; VI., 24,
34 f, 49, 107, 132, 162 ff.,
175, 178 ff, 205, 2og, 221 f.,
225 f,, 229, 233, 237 ff,, 301-
317; VII., 7, 13 f- 16.
58 ff., 92, 120 f,, 126 ff,,
132, 236, 262, 264; compare
Soc" " "

310

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Nonadorantism, VII., 135.

150 f.
Norms, Catholic, 11., i ff,

18 ff.
North African Churches, III.,

218, 24S ff., 257 f. ; v., 341 f.
Noting, VI., 295.
Nous (vovs), I; 350 K
Novatian and School (person

and schism), I., 121, 183 ff.,

189; II., 17. 37 f., 64, 86 f..

91 f-. 95. 97. 112-122, 123,

162, 235, 259, 262, 294, 313 ;

in., 38. 52, 56, 58. 69, 73.

79, 95. 152. 215, 22s, 238:

IV., 84, 104 f., 121, 185 ; v.,

24 f., 26, 31, 38 f., 43, 105,

279.
Number of the Sacraments, IV.,

276; VI., 201 f. ; Vn.,44.
Numenius, I., 112, 123, 127,

345 f. ; III., 100, 269; IV.,

39-

Obex, VI., 223.

Occam, VI., 139 f., i6r f., 165,
17S ff., 189, 208, 227, 239,

304, 310 fr., 314; vir., 262,
264.

Occhino, VII., 133.

Odo of Morimond, VI., 13.

CEcolampadius, I., 25; VII.,
262.

Ecumenical Synods, v. Coun-
cils.

Offices (three) of Christ, VII.,
149 f-

Old Testament, I,, 41 f, 81 f.,
87 f.,99f-. 108 f, lis, 15s f-.
159, 163, 168, 171, 175-
79, 184, 187, 196 f., 199,
222 ff, 227 ff., 242 ff, 246 f.,
253, 256 f., 260, 268 ff., 281 f.,

287 f., 291 ff., 296, 303 t,

306,314; II., 34, 38 ff., 58 f.

71, 130, 169-229 passim,

230 f, 300 ff., 326 ; III., 26 ;

v., 327; see also Holy Scrip-
ture.
Old Testament, Deutero-

canonical parts, I., 109, 205,
Old Testament, Attempts at a

Christian, I., 114 f ; II., 65.
Old Testament Sacraments,

VI., 210.
Omnipotence of God, I., 318;

II., 350; D^nd passim.
Omnipresence of God, I., 318,

and passim.
Omniscience of God, 11. , 350,

and passim.
Only-begotten Son, I., 186,

189.
Opera supererogatoria. III.,

263.
Ophites, I., 203, 237, 239, 249 f.,

255.
Optatus, IL, 93 ; III., 80, 223 ;

v., 25, 39, 42 ff., 53, 141 f.,

154-
Opus operantis (operans), VI.,

210, 321.

Opus operatum, VI., 210, 221 ;

VII., 44, 2i6, 256, 260.
Orange, Synod of, V., 258, 266,

301.
Ordeals, IV., 310; V., 309.
Ordination, II., 140 ; V., 41 f.,

161 f . ; VI., 125, 135, 202,

211, 270 ff.

Ordines septem, VI., 271 f.

Oriental cults, I., 229 f

Origen and his School, I,, 8,
77, 1O2, 106, 114, 124, 136,
163, 179, 185, 192, 197, 202,
224, 226 f, 234, 237, 259,

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS.

260 ff., 288, 293, 296, 299 f.

304. 348, 359 f-; n., 6 ff,

II ff.. 36 f., 45, 52, 61, 64 f.,
72, 81 ff,, 91 f., 99, loS,
nSff., 124 ff., 128 ff., 131 ff..
137, 141 f., 14s, 152 f., 164,
176, 233. 235, 250, 255, ^^7,
286 f., 295. 304, 331-380;
III., 5, 29, 34 ff, 43, 52 f.,
56, 62, 64, 77. 83 f., 88, 93.
95 f., 98-113, 122 f., 129 f.,
131-142, 14s f., 152. 153 f.,
172, 175, 183, 186 f., 189,
193. I9S> 197 f-. 200, 201,
204 ff., 212, 23s, 246, 247 f.,
250 f., 253, 256 ff„ 261,
263 f , 270 f., 276 f., 284, 290,
293, 298 f., 305, 307. 308 f. ;
IV., 3, 14,21, 23, 38 f., 39 f.,
43 ff., 51 ff., 59, 67, 71, 82f.,
88 f., 103, no ff, 115, 120 f.,
139, 146 f, i5of, 159 ff., 191,
205, 232, 237, 245 f., 249,
258, 272, 280 f., 284, 290 f,

305, 33' ff-, 334-349; v.,
14, 28 ff., 32 f, 78, 102, 109,
178, 312; VI., II, 34 f-, 44.
loi, 186.

Origenistic Controversies, III.,
147, 234; IV., 232, 24s,
340 ff.. 346 ff,

Orleans, Synod of, V., 282.

Orosius, v., 173, 178 f.

Ortliebists, VI., 136.

Osseni. I., 304.

Otto, I., Emperor, VI., 7.

Otto of Bamberg, VI., 202.

Ousia, see Substance.

Pacian, V., 25, 38, 48.
Palestine, Christians in, I., §§ 5

and 6, 289 ff., 294 ff., 299 ff.,

309-

Palladius, IV., 313.
Pamphilus, II., S2 ; III., 35, 96,

112,213,332.
Pamphylian Synod, IV., 226.
Pant^enus, II,, 325.
Pantheism, II,, 343; III,, 254,

271, 295, 298 f, 300 f. ; IV.,

240, 280, 309, 347 ; VI.,

104 f, 136, 150, 179 f, 184 f;

VII., 121 ff„ 13a f.
Papias. I., 103, J06, 152, 158 ff,,

167 f., 2S8; II., 82, 98, 296,

298.
Paradise, v. Chiliasm, and III.,

188, 261 f., 273 f., 283.
irapaSorrii aypa^o^', III,, 212 f.,

239 ; IV., 323.
Pardulus, v., 298.
Paraclete, v. Holy Spirit.
Paris, Synods of, IV., 80, 314;

v., 307.

Paris, University of, V., 8 ; VI,,

125, 140 f., 315; VII,, 87.
Parmenian, V., 42 ff., 53,
Parmenides, V., 191,
Parsism, III., 330 ff.
Parties in the Apostolic Age,

I., 87 f., 89 ff.
Pascal, VII., 93, 105,
Paschasinus, IV., 214.
Paschasius Radbertus, V, 276,

310, 312 ff.; VI., 47, 51,312.
Pastor jEternus, Bull, VI., 127 ■

VII., 6,73-
Pastoral Epi.stles, I., 162, 215,

248, 270, 304 ; II., 23, 42, 44,

48 f., 74.
Patarenes, VI,, 136.
Patience, I., 173.
Patriarchal Constitution, III.,

221 f,; IV,254'(cecumenicaI

Patriarchs) ; V., 242.
Patriarchs, Montanist, II,, 97,

312

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Patripassians, v. Medalists,
Paul, Apostle (doctrine and
Epistles), I., 48 f, 56 f., 83,
85 ff!, 92 ff., 100, 105, 113,
130,132^,148.155. 158 ff,
16S f, 172, 176, 179, 192, 193,
199 ff-i 208, 217, 228, 234,
238, 241, 24S U 246, 255,
268 ff., 278 ff, 281 f., 293 ff.,
299 f., 304 ff, 316, 324-332;
II., 10, 38-66, 74, 155 ff, 332
ff, 239 f., 261, 268, 270 f.j
272 f., 278, 289, 292, 293,
296 f.; III., 6, 168, 332 ;

IV., 155, 162; v., 34 f.. 41,

51.56,73.77.84.214,231 f.;
VII., 161, 169 f., 182, 210.

Paul of Samosata, 1., 24, 195 ;
II., 40, 130; III., II, 59 ff,
71, ioi, 114, 134, 141, 215,
222, 227; IV., I ff, 20, 21,
25, 40 f.,4S, 65, 67, 70, 81,
146, 151 f., 159, 161, 162 ff.,
182 f., 197 and passim, 252 ;
v., 130, 282.

Paul of Constantinople, IV., 64.

Paul n. of Constantinople, IV.,
257 f-

Paul v., Pope, VII., 91.

Faulicians, III., 191, 336; VI.,
8.

Paulinus of Aquileia, V., 275 ;
284, 298 ff.

Paulinus of Antioch, I V, 90, 92
f., 95-102.

Paulinus of Iconium, II., 131.

Paulinus of NoIa,IV.,3io; V.,
52, 172, 174.

Paulinus of Milan, V., 175, 185.

Paulinus of Trier, IV., 73.

Paulinus of Tyre, IV.. 3, 14.

Pelagius I., Pope, II!., 223 ;
IV., 250.

Pelagius, Pelagians, III., 188,

230, 282, 303 ; IV., 171, 183,
184 f., 343 ; v., 26, 30, 168-
202, 251, 255, 302, VI., 168,
284, 390 ff, 315; VIL, 56,
71, go f, 92 f., 161, 165.

Pella, I., 300.

Penal Suffering, VI., 55, 67 {.,
and elsewhere.

Penance (penitence). Penance
Discipline and Sacrament of
Penance, I., 59, 62 f, 146,
200 f. ; II., ro8-i2i, 137
f.; Ill,, 78; IV., 311 f.; v.,
37 f, 41, 161, 229 f., 264 f.,
2691:, 318, 321-331 ; VI., 54

ff., 65, 102, 135, 202, 223,

227, 243-269 ; VII., 51 m,

69, 101 ff, 218, 250, 252.
Penitence and Expiation, I.,

Ii8f.
Penitence, Preachers of, VI.,

Ill f.
Pepuza, I„ 16S.
PeratiE, I., 237, 254,
Peregrinus, I., 120, 239.
Perfection, Evangelical, I., § 4,

238 f. ; II., 121, 123, 369 ;

III., 322.
TreptxiopWii J v., 125, 265 f.
Perpetua and Felicitas, Acts of,

I., 172; II., 103.
Peronne, VII.. 81.
Persia, IV., 189, 345.
Persian Deities, I., 229.
Person (in the Trinity and

Christology), II., 257 ff., 280

ff., 374; IV., 56, 81, 85 f.,

121 f., and Chapters II. and

in.

Personality, Idea of, v. Augus-
tine, Mysticism, and ^VI.,
163, J79.

GENERAL INDEX TOR VOLS. L-VH.

313

Peter de Marca, VII., ^6.

Peter, I., 160-165, 255,313 ff-;
II., 88 f., 15; ff., 165 f.; in.,
224 ; v., 272; VI., 8. See
also Leo L, Primacy, Roman
Community.

Peter of Alexandria, III., 99 f.,
104, 143; IV., 7, 187, 332.

Peter, Apocalypse of, I., loi,
146, 167 ; II., 40, 50, 98,

Peter, Epistles of, I., 83, 96,
104, 160, 189, 201 ; II., 40,
42, 48.

Peter, Gospel of, I., 84, 177,
199, 203, 238; II., 42.

Peter, Preaching of, I., 219,

Peter, the Lombard, VI., 40,
43 f,, 44, 81 f., 129, 165, 179,
1S2. 187 f., 194, 203, 205 f.,
213, 219, 222, 224 f,, 228,
233. 23s. 240. 244, 251,
262, 269 f, 272, 273, 276 ff.,
303-

Peter of Kallinico, IV., 125.

Peter of Poictiers, VI., 210.

Petrikau, Synod, VII., 136.

Petrobuaiani, VI., 230.

Petrophilus, IV., 4.

Petrus Aureolus, VI., 162.

Petrus of Comestor, VI., 14.

Petrus Damiani. VI,, 202.

Petrus d'Ailly, VI.. 141.

Petrus Fullo, IV., 230, 235.

Petrus Mongus, VI., 22S, 237.

Petrus de Palude. VI., 251.

Phantasiasts, IV., 237.

Pharisaism, I., 56, 68 f, 94, 105,
289 f, 302 f., 307 ; VI., 150;
VII., 56.

Philastrius, III., 14, 54, 83.

Philemon, Epistle to. III., 196.

Philip the Arabian, II., 168.

Philip of Gortyna, II., 237.

Philippopolis, Synod of, IV.,
69, 76, 101.

Philo, I., 97, 109 ff., 233, 241
253, 346 f. ; II., 6, II, 175,
207 f, 325 f., 350 ; III., 302,

246, 253, 258 ; IV., 28, 39,
48, 103 ; v., 31.

Philo's Hermeneutics, I., 114.

Philosophy, Greek, I., 122 ff.,
222 ff, 266-286, 337, 358 (see
also Gospel and Hellenism);
II., 6 ff., 32, 169-229, 232 f.,

247, 261, 299, 325 f, 338,
342, 378 f.. Philosophy and
Dogma also, III., 167, 170,
178, 238 ff ; IV., 128 f., 131
f.,232ff.,264,278f.; V.,Chaps.
II. and III,, 100 f.; VI., 27
ff

Philostorgius, III., 126; IV.,

4, 18, 21,88, 103, 150, 285.
Philoxenus, v. Xenaias.
Philumene, I., 231.
Phlegon, I., 164.
Fhobadius, IV,, 76.
Phocylides, I., 155 f.
Photinus, III., 33, 49; IV., 66,

70,72,91, 159, 182; v., 130,

282.
Fhotius, II., 370; III., 95, 162,

221, 230, 321 ; IV., 127, 134,

263, 275 ; V,, 307,
Phrygia, II., 96 ff.
Phthartolatry, IV., 237.
Physis. IV., 24 34 f., 81, 86,

124, also Chaps. II, and III.
Pierius, III., 95 f., 116; IV.,

41-
Pietism, VII., 255, 272.
Pionius, Acts of, I., 196, 293,
Pistis Sophia, I., 303, 207, 254,

263; II., 380; III., III.
Pistoja, Synod of, VII., 8a

Pistus, IV.. 64.
Pithou, VII., 76.
Pius II.. Pope, VII., 6.
Pius v., Pope, VII., 86.
Pius VI., Pope, VII., 8a
Pius VII. , Pope, VII., 78.
Pius IX.. Pope, VII., 82, 99.
Platonism and' Plato, I., 122,
126 f., 229, 236, 238 f., 243 f,

249, 333 ff, 348 f. ; II., 82 f.,
174, 177 ff- i8S f^; 194. 19s
f- 338. 34S> 362; HI., 8, 55-
79. 155, 158, 170, 176, 181,
248, 250, 25S f., 2S7, 296 f. ;
IV,, 6 {.. 74, 88 f., 129, ISO,
337. 346; v., 32, 33 f., 191,
see also Neoplatonism, VI.,
40, 169, 171 ff., 304; VII.,
3-

Pleroma, I., 232. 257, 261 ; IL,
345-

Pliny, I., 166, 186.

Plotinus, I., 127, 34 1, 344 ff.,
351 f, 360; II., 261; III.,
56, 100, 126, 243, 259; IV,,

39, 132, 150, 350; VI., loi.
Plutarch, I., 112, 122, 127, 357.
Pneumatici, I.. 249 f. ; III., 5.
Pneumatic Christology, I., 192-

199.

Pneumatomachoi, v. Mace-
donians.

Polemon, IV., 23 S.

Polish Church, VIL, 135 f.

Polychronius, IV., 166.

Polycarp and his Epistle, I.,
120, 150. 152, 157-203, 204,

250, 285; IL, 15, 20 f., 26,

40, 42, 152, ig8, 163, 238,
Vita per Pionlum, III., 158.

Polycarp, Martyrdom of, I.,

157, i8sf.; n.,7S-

Polycrates, I., 26S ; tl,, 149.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Polytheism, I., iiS, iSr, 337;
11., 7, 12, 171 ff., 217, 338;
III., 125, 131, 13s f., 163 f.,
242, 252 f., 264 ; IV., 21, 27»
30, 38 ff., 6r, yg, 273 f., 278,
282 f., 287 f., 304 ff, 317 f. ;,
v.. 109.

Pontian, Roman Bishop, II.,
168; III., 73. 83.93.

Poor, Description of Christians,
I., 299.

Poor, Support of, I., 205 f., 209.

Pope, V. Roman Bishop, and
v., II, 241, 272; VI., 16 ff.,
118 ff, 230 f., 257, 263 f.,
268, 269, 271 f. ; VII., 5 ff,
10 ff, 37 ff., 42, 72-79, 81-86,.
IIO-I17, 220 f

Poverty, Franciscan, VI., 85 ff,
93 f-

Porphyrians, IV., 58.

Porphyry, I., 127, 237, 341, 345
f. 349 f-, 359; II-. 175. 340
ff; III., 100, 136, 146, 243,
259; IV., 132, 150, 244, 350;,
VI., 34-

Port Royal, VII., 0.

Posidonius, I., 122.

Possessor, Bishop, V, 256.

Preedestes, III., 14,

PfiEdestinatus, /id., V., 251.

Prsedestinatus, III., 285, 303 ;.
v., 36, 91, 126 f., 166 f., 20s
f,2i7, 23if, 238f, 248f., 250-
261, 366, 270, 291-302 ; VI.,,
132 ff., 143 ff., 169 f., 295 f.,.
305 f. ; VII., 160, 201, 246.

Prsdicatio Petri, I., 155, 161,
171 f, 176, 177, 180 f, 192 f.,
204, 207, 303 ; II., 59.

Pragmatic sanction, VI., 119.

Praxeas, II., 97, 160, 163, 256
f ; III., 59ff, 70, 80.

GENERAL INDEX TOR VOLS. I.-VII.

315

Prayer, I., 164 f, 1S4, 204 ff.,
210 {.; II., 134 ff., 376; v.,
97 ; VI., 258 f.

Prayer for the Dead, V., 233.

Prayer to Jesus, I., 184.

Preaching (Kerygma), I., 76-
85, 15s ff., 1CJ9-203, 224 f.,
2SS f., 260; II., 20 f, 25 ff.,
42, 219, 246; III., 313, 229
f. ; IV., 116.

Pre-existence (of Christ) and
Ideas of it, I., 82, 83, loi f.,
126, 191 f, 197 ff., 29S, 300,

313-332; n., 38; III., 42,

47f., 65, 118; VII., 148.
Pre-existence of Souls, 111., 96,

318 f. (v. also Soul); III.,

358 ff., 265. 277.
Pre-Reformers, V., 159; VI.,

gy ff, 309.
Presbyter, I., 213 f, 266; 11.,

129 f ; IV., 7.
Presbyter in Iren^us, I., 163,

203 ; II., 27 f., 68 f., 231 f.,

238, 265, 267, 292, 296, 306.
Prescription, Proof from, II.,

247, V. Tradition.
Priests, Christian, I., § 4, 214 ;

II., 5, 78. 86, IIS, 128-131,

303; III., 3 ff„ 336, 286 f. ;

v., 161,273 ; VI., 53,90, 119

ff, 135, 240, 245 f., 25s ff.,

268,271 f.; VII., S3. S3, 23of.
Priests' Garments, VII., 36.
Primacy of Rome, II., 149-168;

III., 224 f. ; v., 46, ISO, 241,

V. Roman Community.
Primeval Being, I., 349 f.
Primeval State, v. Apologists,

II., 367ff ; III., 261 ff, 272

ff. ; v.. 197 ff, 2ioff., 21s f.;

VI., 282 ff., 397 f. ; VII., 59

f., 88, 200 f.

Primeval Man. Hi., 334.
Priscilla(Prisca), II.. 96ff
Priscillian, III.,336; IV, 133;

v., 58 ; VI., 8.
Priscus, I., 355-
Probabiliorism, VII., 105.
Probabihsm, V, 3 ; VI., 162,

168; VII., 36, 38, 46, 56,

ior-109.
Proculus, II,, 98, 100, 163, 237;

in, 53-

Proclus, I., 127, 357, 361.
Procopius, III.. 99 ; IV., 106.
Professio fidei Tridentina;, VI.,

S3; VII., 73- 82 f;
Prophets (Christian) and

Teachers, I., 101, 106, 155,

159. 164, 166,17s, 2[3f.,23I,

239 f- 253 f- 275. 288; JI.,
41.46, 51. S3 ff-, 69 f, 95 f.^
104 ff., 128, 131, 232, 299,
308 ff. ; III., IS ff ; VI., 95,
III.

Prophets of the Old Testament,
III., 40, 325.

Prophets, Gnostic, I., 231.

Prophetic Succession, II., lOO.

Prophecy, Proof from, I., 81 f.,
100, 108, 175 f, 256 f ; II.,
182 ff, 201, 217 ff., 291, 301,
304, 368.

Propositiones GalHcanje, VII.,
75 ff

Prosopon Doctrine, III., 85 ff.

Prosper. V., 187, 246 ff, 249 ff.,
355.

Proterius, IV., 194,

Protestantism, f. Reformation.

Protogenes, IV., 68.

Protoplast, 1 1 1., 106 f , V. Adam,

Provincial Synods, IIL, 215 f.

Prudentius, IV., 69, 132; V.,
25, 28, 52.

3i6

Prudentius of Troyes, V., 297

f.
Psalms, I., 70, 98, 177; v.,

84.
Psalms, Christian, I., 166, 241.
Psalms, Inscriptions of. III.,

193-
Psalms of Solomon, I., 68.
Pseudo-Ambrose, v., 258 ; VI.,

235-
Pseudo-Augustine, V., 35S ;

VI., 244.
Pseudo-Chry SOS torn, IV., 299.
Pseudo-Clement de Virginitate,

I., 157, 160 ; III., 1 12.
Pseudo-Clementine Homilies

and Recognitions, I., 188,

289, 310-317; II., 164, 295.
Pseudo-Cyprian, I., iSg; II.,

120 ; v., 24 f., 38, 54.
Pseudo-Cyril, VI., 124.
Pseu do- Gregory, VI.. 262.
Pseudo-Hippolytus, III., 165.
Pseudo- Isidore, V., 325 ; VI.,

16, 18 f, 123, 232.
Pseudo-Justin, Oratio ad Gr.,

II., 193, de Monarchia, 199,

de Resurrectione, 195 f., 277,
Pseudo-Origen-Adamantius, I.,

266 f,, 251, 291 ; III., 104,

{v. Adamantius).
Pseudo-Tertullian, III., 60.
Psychici, I., 260 f, ; 11., 104,

125-

Psychology, III., 183, 255 ff.;

v., 21, 106 f., Ill f; VI.,

163-
Ptolemasus, Valentinian, I., 1S6,

204, 234 f., 255, 256, 258,

260 ; II., 41, 44, 248, 301 ;

IV., 13.
Pulcheria, IV., 202 ff., 212 K,

221.

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Pupper of Goch, VI., 144, 170
278; VII., 16, 173, 192.

Purifying Fire, II., 377.

Purgatory, II., 296; III., 1S9 ;
v., 233, 23s, 268 f. ; VI., 90,
259 ff. ; 261 f., 268 ; VII.,
54-

Pyrrhus of Constantinople, IV.,
256 f.

Pythagoras, I., 239, 243, 249 ;
II., 195 ; IV., 149; v., 191.

Quaternity, VI., 182.
Quartodecimani, v. Easter

Controversy.
Quesnel, Paschasius, VII., 96.
Quietism, V., 75 f., 91, 136 ;

VII., 100.

Rabanus, V., 274, 295 f, 300,

311- 318.
Racovian Catechism, VII., 118

f, 137 ff.

Radbertus, v. Paschasius.
Ransom, III., 307 f.
Ransoming, II., 290, v. Atone-
ment.
Rationalism, I., 131 f., 170 f^

231 f., 263,362; II., 172-229,

232 f., 240. 244, 249, 254 f.,
306 fT; III., 243 ff, 257 ff.,
266 f, 269 f., 271 ; v., 17 ff.,
26, 56,64, 125 f., 170. 172 ff,
189 ff. ; VI., 38 f., 80 f., 153
f. ; VII., 372, etc., V. also
Eooklll., Chap. III.

Ratramnus, V., 297, 302, 310,

318 ff; VI.,47f-
Raymund, VI., ir8, 165.
Realism (Speculative), III., 105

f., in; VI., 33 ff. iSi ff,

161.

GENEKAL INDEX FOR VOLS. I.-VII.

317

Real Presence, v. Eucharists,

and Vi; 238 f.
Recapitulatio. II., 238 f, 241 f.,

263, 372 ff, 27S, 284, 287,

290, 291 ff.
Recarred, IV., 133; V., 282.
Redemption, II., 365 ff. ; III.,

105 ff., 111,117, 164 ff, 247,

250, 265 ff., 288 ff, 316; IV.,

42, 45 f., 270.
Redemption, Capacity for, I.,

181.
Redemptorists, VII., 108.
Reformation, III., 190, 217;

VI., ri6 f., 162, 217, 222;

VII., 20 f, 23 ff. 35 f, 40,

50, 5i f., 56 ff, 72, 86, ii9f.,

128 f., 168-274.
Reform Councils, VI., 114.
Reformed Churches, VII., 133

ff
Regeneration, I., 93, 171 ; II.,

140, 376; III,, 108; VI.,

lor, 227 f.
Regensburg, Synod of, V., 287.
Regula fidei, v. Kerygma, Tra-
dition, Rule of Faith.
Reichersberg Theologians, VI.,

52-
Relics, Worship of, II., 124;

III., 126, 159; IV., 269,276,

278 f., 304, 309,312!., 317 ff;

v., 268, 282 f. ; VI., 91, 102,

142,315; VII., 54.
Religion, Mythical, II., 339 f
Religion, Natural, I., 107 f.,

337; II-> 77'- III-- 329 f. etc.
Religion and Morality, Greek,

I, u?.
Religion, Philosophy of, I., §§

7, 8, pp. 230 ff, 235 r., 349

{.; II., 323 f., 330, 336,379,

Remigius, V., 297 f., 299 f.

Renaissance, Period of the, I.,
362; VI., 104, 113, 170 ff. ;
VII., 13, 18, 120 f., 126 f.,
135-

Renan, I., 38, 89.

Renato, Camillo, VII., 133.

Repentance, see Penitence.

Re-ordination, VI., 125, 135^
271 f.

Representation of the Church,
III., 214 ff.

Resurrection of Christ, I., 66,
84 ff., i6s, 199 ff, 326; III.,
22, 78, 98.

Resurrection of the flesh (v.
also [eternal] life), I„ 85 f,
157, 168 f., 181 f, 261, 272,
331. 354, 360; II-. 24. 144.
161. 189, 315,300, 345, 377
f. ; in., 163 f., 182, 186,255
ff, 269.

Reticius, V., 38.

Reuter, VI., 32, 80.

Revelation of John, v. Apoca-
lypse of John.

Revelation, Doctrine of, II.,
177 ff., 198 ff., 217 ff, 338,
342, 347. 350 ff., 366; III.,
316 ; v., 125 ff, etc.

Revelation, History of, I., 103,

338.

Revelation, Philosophy of, I.,

Ill, 229 f, 341 ; 11., 171 ff,

177 ff; in., 316.
Revelation, Longing for, I.,

102 f., 125 : II., 174.
Revelation Age, Close of, II.,

53 f, 64, 99 f., 108, 352.
Revolution, French,VII.,77, 80.
Rhetoric, III., 183.
Rhodon, I., 340, 266 f., 385 ;

11., 91, 231, 237.

1 SI'S HISTORY' OF DOGMA. ^^^^1

■ Ricci, Vn., Sa

Rome, Synods of, IV., 66 f., 91

■ Kichard of St. Victor, VI., loo,

f, 99 f- 158, 185, 342; v.,

■ 103. 179. 182.

184; VI., SI 1., (see also

■ Richelieu, VII., 71.

Lateran Synods).

H Risjhteousness of God, I., 170 :

Romanic, v., 7.

■ II.. 351 f. ; III., Chaps. II.

Romanticists, VII., 78, 80.

f and IV. ; V., 202.

Roscellin, VI., 34> ISL 162,

Rimini, Synod of, IV., 78 f.,

182.

92.

Rothe, I., 39.

Ritsch!, I., 37 ; II.. i; VI.. 12,

Rousseau, VI., 261.

100, 107: VIL, 27, 124 ff.,

Rufinus, III., 129, 194 202,

148 ff., 236, 241, 271 f.

210; IV., 341 f. ; v., 32 17a

Robert Pullus, VI., 44, 202,

Rufus of Thessalonica, V., 186.

222.

Rupert of Deutz, VI., 52.

Roland, Magister, v. Alexander

Ruysbroek, VI., lOO, 113.

III.

Roman Influences on the Shap-

Sabas. IV., 348.

ing of the Catholic Church,

Sabatier, I., 24.

I.. 127.

Sabbath, I., 298 f., 3o6f. ; II.,

Roman Community and Bishop

130, 161.

and Christianity, I., rjo, 157,

Sabellians and Sabellianism,

164,250, 305, 308, 312 ; II.,

I., 276; II., 43. 373; ni.,

26, 34, 37, 46 f., 62, 70 f., 83

45, SI ff, 68, 73, 79, 80-101,

f., 88 f, 97, 100, 104, 114 f..

112, 132; IV., 8, 12,14,23,

117-122, 123, 158-168; III.,

25, 31, 44, 47, S3, 60,65 f->

150, 219, 223, 224 ff, 236 f,

67,70, 71.76,81, 86,89,92,

238 f. ; IV.. 6r, 71, 91 ff..

g?, 102, no, 121, 124, 129,

103, 133 f., 182 ff., 191 ff..

131,145, 231; v., 282; VI.,

201, 207, 225, 241 f., 243 ff.,

40, 182.

247 ff, 256 ff, 260 f., 262 f. ;

Sabians, v. Zabians.

v., S ff, 25 ff, 40, 47, ISO,

Sabinian of Perrha, IV., 209.

242, 243, 253-261, 281, 302,

Sabinus, III., 216; IV., 51.

307, 325 ; VI.. 16 ff ; VII.,

Sacrament, I., 210 f., 263 ; II.,

6 ff., 10 ff

30, 91, 114, 137 ff., V. Mys-

Roman Symbol, I., 100, 157,

teries ; v., 10, 38 ff, 43 ff.,

16S, 181, rSs f., 203; II., rS,

56 f., 156-162, 199, 202, 20s

20 f., 28 f, 30 f.. 75, 151 f. ;

f. ; VI., 42, 45, 47, 52 i, 89

ni., 75, 210; IV., 14s, 184,

ff., lOi f., 129, 132 ff., 139,

203 ; v., 244.

144, 174, 200-275; VII., 43-

Roman Spiritual and Secular

57, 128, 215-220, 225, 23S,

State, I„ 121 f., 127 f. ; III.,

348 ff

Chap. I. (Second Part); V.,

Sacraments, Number of, IV.,

241 ff

276; VI., 201 f.; VII., 44-

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. L-VII.

3'9

Sacramentalia, VI., 142, 205,

230; VII., 55 f.
Sacred Things of Earth, I., 321.
Sacrifice, Christian, I., 134, 164,

199 f., 204 ff., 209 ff. ; 11,

131-138, 291 ; III., 236, 30;

ff., 283 ff., 290-302 ; v., 269

f., V. Eucharist, 327.
Sacrifices, Heathen, I., 205 ff.,

209 f.
Sacrifices, Jewish, I., 68, 209 f.,

246 f., 302 f., 308 ; II., 130.
Speculum obscurum, VI., 32.
Sailer, VII., lOO.
Saints, Worship of, III.,

125, 159 f.; IV., 1S8, 305,

308 f., 311 f., 324; v., 209,

268, 282 f. ; VI., 91. 142.

315; VII., 14, 54.
Salimbene, VI., 95.
Sallust, I., 355 ; V., 191.
Salvation, History of, II., 242

ff.,287 ff.,304f.; III.,87, 202.
Salvation, Assurance of, v.

Certainty of Faith.
Salvation, Benefits of, I., 127 f.,

162 ff. ; H., 10, 14; III., 163

ff ; IV., 271.
Salvation, Facts of, II., 288 ff.
Salvian, V., 242.
Samaria (Religion), I., 243 f,

305 ; IV., 72.
Sampssei, I., 304.
Sardica, Synod of. III., 183,

225 ; IV„ 57, 66, 68 f, 84,

Sardinia, Bishops, V., 255.

Sarpi, VII., 38.

Satisfaction, H., 132, 294 f. ;
III,, 310 f.; v., 18 f., 25,229,
323 ff ; VI., 54-78, 190 ff.,
257 ff.; VII., 131, 156 ff.,
198 f., 225.

Saturninus, I., 247 f, 248, 259.
Saviour {rrtorvp), I., 146, I80 f.,

183 f., 189.
Savonarola, VI., iii ; VII., 18.
Savonibres, Synod of, V., 300,
Saxons, V., 275.
Scepticism, I., 337 ; V., 77,

78 f.

Scetian Monks, HI., 247; IV.,
340.

Schaff, VII., 33 f.

Shechina, I., 104-

Scherr, Archbishop, VII., 84.

Schism of 484-519, IV., 228.

Schism, the Great Fapal, VI.,
140 f.

Schismatics, II,, 92 ; V., 140 ff.

Schleiermacher, I., 33 f. ; VII.,
272.

Scholasticism, I., 357 f. ; III.,
155, 158 f., 246, 251 ; IV.,
125, 131, 146, 174, 232 f.,
239, 247, 250, 259, 264 ff,
2;5, 300,347ff.,48i ff- ; VI.,
23 ff., 149 ff., 174 ff., see
Nominalism, Thomas, Duns,
etc.

Schools, Gnostic and Ecclesi-
astical, I., 240, 246 ff., 268,
274 f„ 298 f ; II., 30 f.,321
ff ; III., 26, 117.

Schwenkfeld, VII., 123, 131,
260.

Scillitanian Acta Marlyrum,
II., 4L

Scotu.s, Duns, V. Duns.

Scotus (Erigena) III., 299 ;

IV., 134, 240; v., 35. 274 f..

277, 298 ; VI., 30, 47, loi,
150. 179-

Scripture, Holy, v. Old and

New Testaments, HI., 169

f, 186, 192-206, 207 f. ; IV.,

320

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

19. 21, 22, 33, 37, 81, 129,
153. 155, 'S8, 173 f.. 204,
233, 2go, 306, 324, 35 I ; V.,
IS. 22, T^, 98 f. ; VI., 142,
156 f., 162, 173, 199; VII.,
24, 40 f., 80 ff., 124, 129 f,,
137 ff-. 187, 223 f., 234, 235,

246 fr.

Scripture Exposition, v. Alle-

gorism, 11., 131, 250 C, 347;

in., 78; VII., 234, and else-
where.
Scripture Proof, III., 199 ff. ;

IV., 1 14, 323, 333, 346.
Scripture Tlieology, II., 250 f.,

287.
Scythian Monks, IV., 330 ff,

235. 255 ff-
Seal, Description of Baptism,

I., 207 f.
SechusOwaus, VI., 265.
Second Advent of Christ, I.,

66, 82, 151 f., 167 f., 182,

261 ; II., 95 f-, 289, 295 f-;

III., 187 f.
Secret Tradition, I., 164, 354 f.;

II., 34 ff., 327.
Secta, I., 240.
Sects, Jewish, I., Chap. II., §§

1,4, 5, p. 342 f.
Secundus of Ptolemais, IV., 4,

9.57-
Secundus of Tauchira, IV., 4.
Seeberg, I., 36.

Seleucia, Synod of, IV., S, 78 f.
Semi-Arians, III., 45, v.

Ensebians and Homoi-

ousians.
Semi-Pelagians, V., 187, 245

ff. ; VII., 71, 94. 105.
Semitic Cosmologies, I., 229 f.
Semler, I., 30.
Seneca, I., 122, 141 ; V., 23.

Sens, Synods of, V., 299.
Sentianus of Borseum, IV. 4.
Septuagint, I., 114 f. ; II., 251;

III., 194 f., 206.
Serapion of Antioch, I., 160,

293; II., 54,56.
Serapion of Thmuis, IV., 114.
Sergius of Constantinople, IV.,

254 f.
Servatus Lupus, V., 297.
Servede, Michael, VII., 128,

132 f, 172.
Sethites and Seth, I., 237; III,,

325-
Severians (Encratites), I., 23S,

296 ; II., 49.
Severus, Monophysite and

Severians, IV,, 229, 233 f , 236

ff., 243 r, 253, 300.
Sextu.s, Gnomes, I., 155.
Sexual Pleasure, v. Marriage.
Sibylline Oracles, I., 55, 107 f.,

154 r, 185 ; II., 17s, 200,

28c, 297, 318.
Simon Magus, I., 120, 243 ff.,

312 ff; III., 330-
Simon, Richard, VII., 82.
Simonian.s, I., 196.
Simony, VI., 5.
Simonistic Orders, VI., 135.
Simplicius, Pope, IV., 328.
Simplicius, Phi!o.sopher, I., 358.
Sin, Original, II., 274, 365 ;

III,, 265, 281 f, 285; IV.,

317; v., 49 ff, 77 f„ 175 ff,

194 ff, 197 f, 207, 2(0 ff,

253, 264, 266 f. ; VI., 64, 227
f.. 278, 297 f., 301 ff. ; VII..
57, 58 f., 200 f, 245.
Sin, I., 60, 66 f, 83 f., 93, 123,
125, 170, 172, 200 f, 257,
326 f. ; II., 109-121, 267, 269
f, 273, 278, 344, 366 ff. ; HI.,

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. l.-VII.

321

97, 107, 263 ff., 272 ff., 289,
296,303; v., 32,47 f, 55 ff,
66 ff. 88 f., ii4f., 117 f., 191
ff., I96ff, 209^,264 ff., 271,
324 ff ; VI., 58 ff, 242 ff,
284 ff, 297 ff, 301 ff ; VII.,
58 ff, 3CX) f., 214, 24s, 257.

Sin— The Fall, I., 181, 256, 267
ff., 272 ff, 344, see Sin,
Adam.

Sin, Forgiveness of, 1., 59-63,
66 {., Ji3 f., 123, 134, 170 ff,
199 ff, 207 f, 210, 306 f. ;
II., 104 f., iog-i2i, 125, 139
ff. 144 f, 221 f, 292; III.,
268 f ; v., 38 f., 87 f., 17s f.,
203 f., 207, 228, 268 ff., 271,
323 ff ; VI., 57 ff, 389 ff.,
297 f.; VII., 61 ff., 152 ff,
182 f, 207 ff, 265.

Sirach, II., 134.

Siricius, v., 56, 282.

Sirmium, Synods and Symbols
of, III., 188; iV, 70 ff., 75
ff, 112.

Sisinnius, Reader, IV., 105.

Sixtus IL, III., 89; IV., 191
f. ; v., 24.

Sixtus IV., Pope, VI., 315.

Slavs, III., 161; v., 7.

Sraalcaldic Articles, VII., 24,
85, 175-

Socinus and Socinianism, V.,
I, 8, 189; VI., 163, 189;
VII., 13, 23, 119-167.

Socrates, I., iso, 125; II., iSo
ff., 191, 336.

Socrates, Church Historian, II.,
82, 112, 122 ; III,, 75, 125 f,
138, 146, 163, 176, 211, 216,
226, 263 ; IV, 83, 88, 104 f.,
186, 343.

Sohm, I., 39; 11., 2 f

Solomon's Writings, III., 193.
Song of Songs, II., 295; III.,

129 f, 141, 193 ; VI., II.
Sopater, I,, 355-
SophoniK Apoc, I., 185, 195.
Sophronius, III., 164, 173 ; IV.,

254 f-
Sorrow (for Sin), I., 59, 61 f,

170 f. ; III., 369, see Peni-
tence.
Soter, Roman Bishop, II., 156.
Soterichos, VI., 51.
Soteriology, III., 87 ; V., 55 ff.,

etc., etc.
Soul, a.s Bride of Christ, II.,

295,376; III,, 109 f, 129 f„

234-
Soul of Christ, IV, 139; V.,

128 f
Soul, Human, I., 350 ff. ; 11.,

360 f., 363, 370 ; III., 78,96.
Soul-sleep, 11., 377.
Souls, Masses for, V., 266 ff,

270, 309, 332.
Sozomen, III., 135, 197, 226;

IV., 313,343-

Sozzini, V. Socinus.

Space, Theories of, VI., 236 f.

Spanish Dogma, History of, V.,
7, 278 ff, 303.

Spanish Synod of Year 447,
IV., 133.

Spener, VII., 255.

Spinoza, VI., 39.

Spirit of God, Holy, I., 50, 78
f., 141, 147, 156, 165, 190 f,
193. 197.208,213,339, 279 f..
302, 306 ; II., 41, 52 ff., 68 f,
73 f- 76 ff, 87, 95 ff. 105 f..
140 f, 2og, 261 f,, 267 f, 285

f, 292, 349, 357 ff; in., 17

ff, 26-50, 56, 74, 85 f., 91, 97,
108 f., 214 f, 230; IV., 19,

322

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

72, 83, 84, 99, 102, IO8-II9,
126 ff, 131 ff., 286, 293 ff.,
301 f., 308 ; v., 304 f., 189 f.;
VII., i53f-

Spirit, Human, Created, I., 319,
326 f.; 11., 337, 359 ff, 377.

Spirit and Flesh, I., 326 f., 331.

Spirit-world (see also Angels
and Demons), I., 319; II.,
361 ff:.366,376ff.;III.,25iff.

Spiritism, III., 126.

Spirituales, VI., 91, 95 ; VII.,
124.

Spiritualism and Spiritualis-
ing, I., 127 f., 168, 181 f., 222
ff. ; III., 105.

Sponsors, v. God-parents.

Stars, as Spirits, II., 361 f.

State, Christian Estimate of, I.,
69 f., 168, 186 ff, in vols. V-
VII., passim, e^., vol. VII.,
193-

State and Church, III., 153 f.,
160 f;, 193 ff., 243, 257, 319-
330; V..ISO-IS5; VI.,i6ff,
118 ff., 130 f.; VII., 193.

State-Religion, I., 118 f., and
vol. ni., 121, to vol. IV.,
3S3,/a.fj««; VII., lO f.

Staupitz, v., 30 ; VI., 107, 170,
278; VII., 13.

Stephen bar Sudaili, III., 253,
301 ; IV., 240 f., 280, 347 ;

V, 2;4.

Stephen Gobarus, I., 24; III.,

97, 221 ; IV., 240.
Stephen Niobes, IV., 240.
Stephen, Roman Bishop, II.,

87 ff., 115, 153, 161, 164.
Stephen of Antioch, IV., 69.
Stoicism, I., 122 f,, 126 f.. 147,

182, 243, 249, 316, 337 ff.,

345 ; II., 174 ff., 186, 194, 202,

353. 255. 349; !"■. 55 ff,
176, 247 ; v., 17. 21, 24, 30,
56, 171, 191, 199.

Subordination, v. Logos, and
III.. 134 f.; IV.. 21, 23, 66,
72, 75,87, 124, 129.

Substance (in the Doctrine of
God and Christology), II.,
257 ff., 279 ff. ; IV., 19, 23,
34 f., 56 f., 81, 85 f, 120, 122
f., 124, and Chaps. II. and
III.

Substitution, I,, 202 ; II., 291 ;
HI., 308, V. Satisfaction.

Sufferings of Christ, v. Death
of Christ.

Sulpitius Severus, HI., 125,
128 f.; IV., 313.

Sunday, I., 294, 299 ; II., 130.

Superabundans Satisfactio, VI.,
192 ff.

Superadditum, VI., 282 ff, 297
f.; VII., 59,88,201.

Superstition, I,, 337, 340, and
elsewhere.

Suso, VI., 100 f., 105, no, 113,

Swindlers, Christian. I., 239 f.

Syllabus, VII,, no.

Syllogisms of Apelles, I., 270.

Symbol, Augustinian, Inter-
pretation of, v., 222 ff.

Symbols (Rules of Faith), I.,
157 f. ; II., 13 f., 20 ff., 37,
75, 88, 151 f.; III., 113 f.,
115 ff., 181 f., 186 f, 208 ff. ;
IV., 98 f., 133 ff., 146, 27s,
333, and Chap. V.; V., 53 f,
95 f., 98 f., 222 ff, 244; VI.,
178 ff; VII., II.

Symbols (Signs), I., 207 ff, 211,
223 ff; III., 159 f.; IV.,
Chap. IV. ; see also under
Eucharist.

^^V^^B

GENERAL INDEX

FOR VOLS. I.-VII. 323

Symbols, Evangelical, VII.,

Terminology, Dogmatic, Ob-

270 f.

jected to by Luther, VII.,

Symmachus, Ebionite, I., 300,

224 f.

305-

Tersteegen, V., 106.

Synagogue of Satan, I„ 177.

Tertiaries, VI., 88, 112.

(Twa^eia, IV., 65. 171.

Tertullian, I., 115, 121, 126,

Sutri, Synod of, VI., 19.

151. 159. 163 f-. 171 f-. ^79,

Syncretism, I., 117, 223 ff, 243

187, 189, 203, 207 f , 216, 226

ff. ; IL, II, 14, 124 f. ; III.,

f., 234, 243, 249 ff., 252 f..

125. i3of.

259,266 ff., 293; II,, 9 f., 14

Synesius, I., 356, 360; III.,

ff., 24, 29-32, 34. 41, 43-66.

152, 179, 270; IV., 337.

67 ff, 74 ff, 77 ff., 83 ff, 91

Synods, IL, 15; III., 215, see

f, 97, 98 ff, 105 f. 109 ff..

Councils and Provincial

121 ff, 128 f, 132 ff, 137 ff..

Synods.

140-145, 151 ff, 161 ff., 178,

Synoptics, III., 6, 16 ff.

196 ff„ 200-229 passim, 230-

Syrian, I., 357.

318,320. 322, 342, 351.367.

Syrian Cult (Gnostics, Church)

374. 380 ff ; III., 9 ff. 52,

I., 229 E, 243 ff., 246 ff., 291,

56 ff, 59 ff, 65, 70 ff, 7% 84,

300,313; n., 57. 152-

105, no, 113 f., 247, 259, 26s,

310; IV., 57 f, nof, 121 ff..

132, 144 f., 184, 185, 203,

Tabernacle, I., 320.

284; v., 6, 12-24,67,77,99,

Tacitus, I., 120.

220, 276, 279 ; VI., 22, 70,

Talleyrand, V., 224,

243; VII., 8. 144.236.

Talmud, I., 289, 304; VI., 150;

Testament of XII. Patriarchs,

VII., 56, 106.

I., 187, 196.

Tamburini, VII., 107.

Tetradites, IV., 125.

Tarasius of Constantinople,

Tetzel, VI., 261.

IV., 326; v., 304.

Text Revisions in Connection

Tadan and School, I., 144, 160,

with Formation of Canon,

187. 193. 19s. ^97, 204, 238

II., 47 f-

f, 240, 254 i. ; II., 42, 51,

Thale^, v., 191.

102, 152, 29s ; III., 56, Zj,

Thamer. VII., 122.

98. 19s. 257> 344-

Thecla, Acts of, I., 145, 185;

Tauler, VI., 100, no; VII..

II-, 44.

228.

Themistius, I., 355.

Teacher, Designation of Christ,

Theodas, Gnostic, I., 255.

I., 186; II., 34, 169.229,

Theodicy, III., 249 f ; V., 124

passim.

ff; VI.. 186.

Teachers, v. Prophets.

Theodora{Empress),IV..242 ff

Temple, i., 320.

Theodora {9th century), IV.,

Temptation of Christ, II., 290.

328.

324

HISTORY OF DOGMA.

Theodore of Heraclea, IV., 166.

Theodore of Constantinople,
IV., 260 f.

Theodore of Mopsuestia, III.,
SO, 130, 158, 193. ig6 f., 200,
201 f , 224, 279-283, 302, 303 ;
IV., 127, 165-172, 190, 198,
246 f., 299, 345 ff. ; v., 171,
188,255,283; VII., 143.

Theodore of Rome, IV., 256.

Theodore of Synnada, II., 131.

Theodore of Tarsus, V., 277,
325-

Theodorus Askidas, IV., 245 f.

Theodorus Studita, IV., 317,
328 ff, 335.

Theodoret, III., 57, 83. 152,
rSi, 201, 207, 226 ; IV.. 127,
166, 188 f, 197 ff., 202, 206,

210, 216 ff.. 246 f., 297, 299,
313. 329. 344 ff

Theodoric of Freiburg, VI., 97,

113-
Theodosius I., III., 148. 151 f.,

211, 225 f ; IV., 93 ff, loi-
105.

Theodosius II., IV., 73, 190,

197-21 1.
Theodosius, A ri an Bi.shop, IV.,

18.
Theodosius of Alexandria, IV.,

244.
Theodosius of Ephesus, IV.,

334
Theodotians, v. Adoptians.
Theodotus, Gnostic, I., 191,

263, 29s ;.III,. 204, 277.
Theodotus, Monarchian, II.,

161 ; III., 20-^0 passim, 55,

63; VII, 133.
Theodotus the Money-changer,

III., 23 ff.
Theodotus of Laodicea, IV., 4.

Theodulf, V., 305.
Thet^nis, IV., 3, 51, 58,62.
Theognostus, III., 96 ff., 134,

181; IV., 45, 331.
Theoktistus of Cssarea, II.,

131,322.
Theology, Problem and Origin
of Christian, Vol. I., Chap.
II., §§ 3-6, and pp. 129 f.,
162 ff, 226 ff., 240 f. ; II.,
ro8 f , 202, 232 ff., 333, 346.
Discrediting of the same,
VI., 288 f ; Luther's Attitude
towards it, VII., 195 ; see
also Dogma and the West.
Theology, Natural, see Ration-
alism, and in., 168, 171 ff,
240 ff, 255 ff., 270, 272 ff.,
288 f, 295, 303 ; IV., 123,
271,333, 35 t,see also Author-
ity and Reason.

Theology, Orthodox, II., 334;
IV., Chap. V.

Theology, Scientific, II., 332,
335,341; III., 117, and Vols.
v.. VI.. VIL, passim.

Theology and Dogma, III.,
144 f., IV, 331 ff., 34S ff., see
also Dogma and the West.

Theonas of Marmarica, IV., 4,
9, 57-

Theopaschitian Controversy,
IV., 124, 230 ff., 23s, 242 f.,
249; v., 255.

Theophany in Old Testament,
III., 6, 29 r.. 64-

TheophiJus, Apologist, II., 24,
33 f, 56 f., 169-229, 194 ff.,
237, 243, 272.

Theophilus, Emperor, IV., 328.

Theophilus of Alexandria, III.,
146, 299; IV., 59, 187, 191,
342 ; VI., 30.

GENERAL INDEX FOR VOLS. I.-VIL

325

Theopompus, III., 102.

Thesaurus indulgentiarum, VI.,
263 f.

Thiersch, I., 38.

Thomas 4 Kempis, VI., lOO f.,
no; VII., 15.

Thomas Aquinas, VI., 23, 24,
97i 99. loi' 103, 105, 106 f.,
no, 118, 122 ff., 1^0 fC., 126
f., 149, 153-160, 162, 165, 167,
178-317; VII., 4 f.. 7, II, 16,
25 f., 46, 57 ff., 74, 86 ff., 104,
142 f., 160 f.

Thomas Miinzer, VI., I08.

Thomas, Acts of, III., 160.

Thomas, Gospel of, I., 241.

Thomasius, Christian, V., 3.

Thomasius, Gottfried, L, 35.

Thomasius- See berg, VI., 27,
79 f., 129 ; VII., 29, 179, 181,
223.

Thomassin, VII., 76.

Three Chapters Controversy,
IV., 245 ff., 346-349; v.. 283.

Tichonius, v., 89, 122, 14S, 173.

Timotheus .(Elurus, IV., 227.

Timotheus, Apollinarist, IV.,
159.

Timotheus, Pre.sbyter, IV., 88.

Titus of Bostra, III., 321 ; IV.,
75-

Tobias, II., 134.

Toledo, See of, v., 281 f.

Toledo, Synods of, IV., 133;
v., 282.

Tolomeo of Lucca, VI., 125.

Torquemada, VI., 126 f.

Toucy, Synod of, V, 301.

Tours, Synod of, VI., i88.

Tradition, I., 156, 157-164, 253
ff, 277ff., 283; 11., 2ff., 7f.,
20-37, 66 ff, 231 ff, 319 f.,
324, 330 f. ; III., S, 24, 207-

233; IV., [04, 115 f., 240,
323 f., see Pope, Roman
Bishop, and VI., 313; VII.,
41 ff., 80 ff., 128 f, 15s ff.,
223 f., 232.

Traditionalism, III., 146 f, 186
r., 191 f. ; IV., 89, lOS, 191,
274, 2S0, 332 f., 334, 335, 340
ff., 35off, etc.; VII., no.

Traditor, V., 40 f.

Traducianism, III., 259 ; V., 49
f., 197 f., 353.

Transformation, IV., 293, 295
ff, 302.

Transformation of Logos into
Flesh, I., 195; II., 281 f., 371.

Transubstantiation, I., 263 ;
IV., 286, 291 ff. ; v., 159, 270,
309 ff.; VI., 51, 142, 165, 176
{., 231-240; VII., 47.

Transylvania, VII., 135.

Trent, Decreesof(Tridentinum)
v., 261 ; VI., 17, 141, 350,
252, 275, 307; VII., 23, 35-
74, 269.

Trichotomy, II., 363.

Trinity, Beginnings and De-
velopment of, I., ^C) f., 156 f.,
257; II.. 209, 235, 257 ff-.
266, 358; III., 8, 51, 143,
166, 171, 241, 269; IV., 2 ff,
19, n8, n9-i37, 157, 231,
236,278.335, 351 ; v., 53 f.,
302; VI., 103, 182 ff.; VII.,
15, 144 f., 197,225. 242 f.

Trishagion, IV, 230, 265.

Trithelsm, III., 90, 93 f., loi f. ;
IV., 124, 335, 240; VI., 182.

TpoTTOi inrap^eoK, IV., 81, 86 f.,
120, 129 f.

Trypho, II., 187.

Turbo, III., 323.

Turrainus, III., 39.

326 HISTORY OF DOGMA. ^H

Tutiorism, VII., 105.

Universal Religion, 1, Chap-

Twelve, the, I., 158-165.

11.,^^ l-6,pp. 222ff., 244ff.,

Two-nature Doctrine, I., 194,

287fr, 303f. ; 11., 339.

258 ; II., 243, 279 ff., 284 f..

UraniusofTyre, IV., 76.

373 ff-; IV., 147. 160, 184,

UrbanVIIL, Pope,VII., 94.

also Chap. III., especially

Ursacius, IV., 69. 70 f., 75 ff..

232 flf:_, 239, 386; see also

80.

Adoptianism, Nestorianism,

Utrecht, Church of, VII., 92.

; Jesus, Christu-s, etc.

Tyana, Bishop of, IV., 67.

Valencia, Synod of, V., 258,

Tyana, Synod of, IV., 91.

298. 299.

Typus, IV., 257 f.

Valens, IV.. 69, 70 f., 75 f. 77>

Tyro, v., 246.

80.

Tyre, Synods of, IV., 62, 65.

Valens, Emperor, III., 151;

209.

IV., 89, 90 ff.

Valentinus, Apollinarist, IV.,

238.

Ubertino de Casale, VI., 94.

Valentinus and his School, I.,

Ubiquity, VI., 339; VII,, 343,

114, 145. 148, 153. 163. 18S,

262 ff.

191, 203, 316, 227, 231, 234

Ulfilas, IV., 44.

f, 237 ff, 241, 348-253, 254-

Ultramontanism, VII., yj, 80,

262; II., II, 51,75, 158,231

and elsewhere.

ff, 235, 244, 258, 263, 276 f,

Unara sanctam, Bull, VI., 120,

289, 305, 345 U 367. 372 f.,

122.

377; III-, 5. 56, 70, 87. 98,

Unifying of the Churches, III.,

113 f., 129, 204, 253 ; IV., 8,

148.

13 f., 32, 138 ff., 149. 200,

Unigenitus, Bull, VI., 266 ;

208; VI., ii.ioS; VII., 133.

VII.,96fr., 108.

Valentinian, Emperor, IV., 93 f.

Union, VII., 29.

Valentinian II., Emperor, IV.,

Union, Creed of, of year 433,

103 f.

IV., 189, 197 f., 200, 222.

Valentinian III., IV., 211.

Union Negotiations of Rome

Valerius Comes, V., 187.

with the Greeks, VI., 122,

Vandals, V., 252.

130 f., 188 f.

Vasquez, Gabriel, VII., 104.

Unitarians, see Adoptians,

Vatican Decrees, VI., 141 ;

Antitrinitarians.

VII., 80, 81.99, 1 10-117, 269.

Unity, v., 277.

Vegetarians, I., 238 f., 308.

Unity of the Church, II., 75,

Vercelli, Synod of, VI.. 47, 50.

85 ff.. 164 f.; III.. 233 ff. i

Vergerio, VII., 134.

v., 44. 144 f-

Veuillot, VII., 78.

Universality of Christianity,

Victor 1,, II., 33, 70, 84. 89,

II, 339.

156,159 f; III., 20,57ff.,g2.

^H^^l ge;jeral index

FOR VOLS. I.-VII. 327

Victorinus Pett, 11., 237, 296,

Weigel, VII.. 123, 129, 131.

358; in., ;8; v., 29.

Weizsacker, I., 2, 18, 37, 48. 78.

Victorinus, Rhetorician, V., 29,

84, 88, 90, 92, 165, 217.

33 fC., 279, 280 (Marius).

Weregeld, V., 329 f.

Vienne, Council of, VI., i;.

Wesel, VI., 170, 240, 26S f.

229.

307; VII., 16.

Vigilantius, III., 188; IV. 313

Wesley, VII., 272.

f ; v.. 28, 58, 282.

Wessel, VI., 170, 199, 232, 262,

Vigilius, IV„ 24s, 248 f., 261,

268 f., 307; VII., 16.

348.

Western Christianity, V., 3 ff.,

Vincentius of Lerinum, III.,

13 (T.

306, 210, 215, 224,229, 230

Western Christology and Doc-

f. ; IV., 14S, 184, 186, 187,

trine of Atonement, III., 200;

343; V„24Sf.; VII., 83.

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