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GERMAN CULTURE 
 
 AND 
 
 CHRISTIANITY: 
 
 THEIR CONTROVERSY IN THE TIME 1770-1880. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOSEPH GOSTWICK, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " ENGLISH GRAMMAR, HISTORICAL AND ANALYTICAL," ETC. 
 JOINT- AUTHOR OF " OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE." 
 
 LONDON : 
 FREDERIC NORGATE, 
 
 7, KING STREET, COVENT GARDEN, 
 WILLIAMS & NORGATE, 20, FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. 
 
 1882. 
 The right of Translation is reserved. 
 

 LOXDCN : 
 
 G. N'ORMAX AXO SON, PRINTER?, HART STREET, 
 COVE.VT GARDEN. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 EEROES widely spread by telling only certain parts of a 
 story, are sometimes best corrected when the other parfcs 
 are told. The remark trite enough may perhaps be 
 tolerated here, since it serves to indicate the general 
 intention of the chapters following. They are intended to 
 tell, in its own sequence, the whole story of the movement 
 that began in deism and has ended in atheism. Already some 
 knowledge of rationalism and its results has been widely 
 spread among the educated classes ; partly also among those 
 who may be called illiterate. The books most negative in 
 their tendency have, in several instances, been aided by 
 their levity as regards both substance and style and 
 consequently they have obtained a considerable popularity 
 in England, as on the continent. Their reasonings are easily 
 understood ; and they flatter our pride. Their main 
 principle is readily accepted as an axiom nothing greater 
 or mightier than our own understanding has been or ever 
 can be revealed, so as to demand our faith and adoration. 
 
 This was the axiom of the deism that more than a 
 hundred years ago was largely exported from England 
 and spread on the continent, especially in Prussia and some 
 neighbouring districts. As accepted there, and afterwards 
 
 aided by destructive biblical criticism, English deism was 
 
 a 2 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 known as rationalism ; and this name sometimes limited 
 fairly applies to the whole movement of which an account 
 is to be given. It has passed through these three chief 
 phases : the deistic, already named ; the ethic ; and the 
 quasi-philosophical. It is the second phase that is most 
 largely noticed in the chapters following (especially cc. 5-9) 
 and with good reason we would submit ; for this is indeed 
 the most reverent and thoughtful form in which a proposed 
 rejection of Christianity has ever been considered. 
 
 Can the world go on without a revealed religion ? ff No." 
 This is in substance the answer given, directly or indirectly, 
 by such men as Lessing, Herder, Jacobi, Kant, Fichte, 
 Schelling and Hegel. Their a no" may possibly have some 
 weight, when placed in opposition to the " yes " rather 
 boldly pronounced by certain representatives of our latest 
 science that which is usually called " positivism." In 
 passing there may be briefly noticed the fact that just in 
 proportion as men have been led to higher views of ethics, 
 they have been led also to entertain more respectful views 
 of revealed religion. This general fact is made clear 
 throughout the whole course of the controversy. Let the 
 sequences of its several phases be noticed ; let facts be 
 stated completely ; and rationalism itself must say some- 
 thing in behalf of the faith that it would destroy. The 
 concessions that have been made by unbelievers are 
 remarkable. 
 
 When a fact is given, let its sequel also be noticed. Take 
 for example Lessing' s case. He helped in the spread of 
 negation ; and the deists of his time claimed him as their 
 friend. On the other hand, he had but little respect for 
 their moral character, and hardly disguised his general 
 contempt of their intellectual attainments. To say the 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 least, he had grave misgivings respecting the issue of the 
 movement to which he had lent his aid ; and the rest of his 
 life was partly devoted to the study of such questions as 
 these : How was the Church created, and so soon established 
 in the Roman world ? By means of writings more or less 
 falsified, you say. Bat it was created and spread widely 
 before the time when those records were written. And how 
 supposing them to have been falsified did they agree so 
 well in preserving one ethical character, the purest, holiest 
 ever made known ; that which remains now the light of the 
 world ? In form these questions were often varied, and 
 Lessing always an inquirer as regards his faith proposed 
 other queries, here and there mentioned in the following 
 work ; but this, his first question, is that chiefly held in 
 view. 
 
 How was the Church created? This is the question to 
 which the latest form of rationalism Baur's construction of 
 " ideas " and " tendencies " has vainly attempted to give a 
 reasonable or even a probable answer. Unless some real 
 force is found, adequate for the production of an effect or 
 movement so vast and still after all defects caused by 
 errors ; above all by divisions among Christians still so far 
 surpassing all known effects of combinations merely human 
 unless some cause is discovered at least equal to this 
 effect the Church, and all the work she has done in the 
 civilization of the world it will be useless to go on writing 
 of " myths," "ideas," "tendencies" and "periods," or 
 " epochs favourable to evolution," as if any one of these 
 or all of them put together could live and act; could take 
 the place of a living Saviour, one whose will has shown 
 itself strong enough to attract to Himself all the souls who 
 have ever belonged to his Church. Wherever, in the pages 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 following, the theory of " myths and tendencies^ is named, 
 it will be well to bear in mind such facts as these: that the 
 Church of Christ was created, and had even made itself 
 dreaded "by Judaism/' at the time of St. Paul's conversion; 
 secondly, that within the space of twenty-five years after 
 the " Resurrection// the Church was established firmly in 
 Jerusalem, Kome, Corinth and Galatia,, where all Christians 
 accepted " the same Gospel " that was preached by St. 
 Paul ; thirdly that, about the close of the first century, the 
 same Gospel was declared by St. Clement of Rome, as the 
 faith then commonly accepted by all who called themselves 
 Christians. It will be obvious, that the facts here briefly 
 named are but fair examples of others. On these must be 
 based the historical argument chiefly required in the present 
 day, when the notions of Baur and his followers are so often 
 repeated. That argument cannot be elaborated in the 
 present work ; which may nevertheless serve here and there 
 to suggest the character of the evidence chiefly required 
 at the present day.* 
 
 * It was originally intended that the remarks on " Christian 
 Evidences" given in the nineteenth of the chapters following, should 
 be expanded in a final chapter, showing more clearly the order of an 
 argument based on the concordant testimony of the Early Church. 
 In outline the argument to be given in a twentieth chapter was 
 written some years ago, and the author then imagined that it might 
 be viewed as one especially his own. In October, 1881, he read for 
 the first time the two volumes mentioned below, containing an 
 elaborate and powerful argument, also based on the concordance of 
 various testimonies. In the largeness and thoroughness of their plan, 
 and in the multitude of their special evidences, united so as to meet 
 inevitably in one conclusion the historical validity of the Gospel 
 these volumes are utterly superior to everything designed in the 
 outline above named; yet the argument they suggest is substantially 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 Lessing's is not a solitary example of hesitation and 
 misgiving as symptoms attending and following negative or 
 destructive reasonings. Many other facts might be cited, 
 to show how men classed with rationalists have been more 
 or less misrepresented by writers on the negative side. 
 Herder, for example who long ago suggested the notion of 
 evolution now so popular was a nondescript in his mixture 
 of belief and unbelief, who surrendered slowly the faith that 
 had cheered his earlier life. Kant, Fichte and Jacobi men 
 alike morally respectable endeavoured to maintain the in- 
 dependence of ethics; but all three confessed their failure. 
 This remarkable fact has been for the most part suppressed ; 
 especially by Carlyle, who has said so much about the earlier 
 moral teaching of Kant and Fichte. The former said, 
 indeed, that morality ought not to need the aid of religion ; 
 but later he confessed, that it did urgently require such aid. 
 The latter Fichte virtually recanted; he in fact abolished 
 all the independent moral philosophy of his earlier years ! 
 These important facts are ignored by Carlyle. Were they 
 unknown ? However that might be, he went on in his own 
 way leaving revelation in silence, and earnestly preaching 
 moral independence; and the end of it all was laudation 
 of despotism and slavery ! For this teaching Fichte is 
 certainly not responsible. 
 
 the same. It is a remarkable case of coincidence ; but not the first of 
 the kind. It should be carefully observed, that the coincidence here 
 noted relates to nothing further than a general design. The writer 
 of the outline claims for himself nothing even remotely like such 
 thorough work as may be found in the two volumes here named : 
 
 " The Jesus of the Evangelists: his historical character vindicated." 
 By the Kev. C. A. Eow. 
 
 " Christian Evidences viewed in relation to modern thought." 
 (Bampton Lectures, 1877.) By the same Author. 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 If further examples of misrepresentation are required, 
 they may be readily given. No attempt is made here to 
 define the faith held by Goethe and Schiller ; but this may 
 be said their unbelief has sometimes been described in 
 terms requiring qualification. In their later writings are 
 found indications of an increasing reverence in relation to 
 the doctrines and the moral claims of Christianity. A wide- 
 spread improvement in the religious tone of literature took 
 place in the early years of the present century. Intellectual 
 pride was subdued, and a higher ethical character was 
 developed, in that time of national adversity. Once more 
 the existence of the Christian faith was recognized, in 
 poetry, general literature, and philosophy. As a rule, the 
 men who fought well at that time were not scoffers. These 
 are facts to be remembered. 
 
 The mysticism of the time led men to a new system of 
 philosophy one that recognized in religion the presence of 
 ideas that should be called divine. For everything positive, 
 as reproduced in its moral and religious teaching, philosophy 
 was now indebted to the Church. It is true, that on one 
 side of the system was developed the latest form of 
 negation. Was this founded at first on a one-sided and 
 erroneous understanding of Schilling's main principle ? 
 He said so ; and for saying this, he the author of the 
 philosophy was himself denounced as a retrogressive 
 teacher; but that question still remains open. Schilling's 
 latest teaching put into words that may be readily under- 
 stood is tantamount to this : Divine truth is not abstract, 
 but is ideal and real, ethical and human, in the highest 
 sense ; the world's history has included a gradual revelation 
 of divine truth, and of this the climax is a personal mani- 
 festation of perfect holiness, and a self-sacrifice demanding 
 
PKEFACE. IX 
 
 the faith and obedience of mankind. For such teaching as 
 this Schelling was bitterly persecuted. 
 
 There are topics suggested by the title "German Culture/' 
 yet left mostly unnoticed in the following pages. Hardly a 
 word is said of the union of Church and State as existing 
 in Prussia. The fact is, that union has consequences too 
 important to be noticed briefly; and this may be said 
 especially of the question known as the (t Kulturkampf " of 
 recent years. But little is said respecting the materialism 
 of our own times. The teaching so called opposes itself, 
 not especially to any Christian tenet, but to every thought 
 of a religious nature, and indeed to the moral conscience of 
 mankind. It is but fair to add, that so far as its advanced 
 teaching is concerned the materialism" now popular should 
 hardly be called German. 
 
 Lastly, but little is said respecting the ground for unbelief 
 afforded by actual divisions of Christians, seen as existing 
 on the continent. Every reader who is but moderately well 
 acquainted with the facts of religious and political life in 
 Germany must appreciate the motives of our reserve on this 
 topic. Our divisions in England are sufficiently painful, 
 and present serious obstacles to the spread of practical 
 religion; but here though we are still called insular and 
 illiberal in certain respects we have at least learned 
 enough to make obsolete the error of persecution. 
 
CON T E N T S. 
 
 CHAPTER I. LIMITATIONS. 
 
 Ecclesiastical questions excluded, 1. The deism of the eighteenth century, 
 3, 9. Lessing's ideas and queries especially noticed, 5. His general idea of 
 revelation, 7. The question, more closely limited, relates chiefly to the 
 central tenet of the Christian Religion, 9-12. 
 
 CHAPTER II. DEISM. 
 
 The larger creed of deism, as maintained in the eighteenth century, 13-15. 
 The ground usually ceded by English apologists, 16-20. The ethical plagiarism 
 of deistic authors, 20-3. The decline of religion in the earlier half of the 
 eighteenth century, 23-5. English deists : Toland, Collins, Woolston, Annet, 
 Morgan, Chubb, Paine, Tindal, Shaftesbury, Bolingbroke, Hume, 24-32. 
 English apologists : Butler, Locke, Lardner, Paley, etc., 32-8. The Utopian 
 views of the deists, 38-40. 
 
 CHAPTER III. EATIONALISM. 
 
 Rationalism first spread in Germany by means of English deistic books, 41-2. 
 Aided by the decay of Lutheran orthodoxy and by a controversy against 
 pietism, 44. Orthodox men : Mosheim, Baurngarten, Michaelis, Ernebti, 45. 
 Moderate rationalists: Sack, Spaldiug, Jerusalem, 45-6. Reimarus on 
 natural religion, 46-8. Semler and Bahrdt, 46-56. Popular philosophers.: 
 Nicolai, Garve, Mendelssohn, Eberhard, 56-7. Educational projects, 57-9. 
 Uhe logic of the apologists, 60. Dodwell's appeal to the faith of myriads, 61. 
 The ultimate results of Rationalism, 61-3. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 
 
 The AVolfenbuttel Fragments, 64-8. Lessing regards biblical-historical 
 criticism as inconclusive, and appeals to the rise and development of the Early 
 Church, 68-9, 85. He cannot fairly be classed with the deists or rationalists 
 of his time ; he was at all times an inquirer as regards his faith, 70-72. 
 11 is essay on the " Education . of Mankind," 72-4. His belief in trans- 
 migrations, 74. His idea of a catholic, ethical union of men, 75. His 
 
Xii CONTENTS. 
 
 supposed pantheism, 76, 80-82. His drama of " Nathan," 69, 77-9. Questions 
 that Lessing leaves open, 83-7. The melancholy of his later years, 81. His 
 remarks on Spinozism, 81-2. On the general characteristics of Rationalism, 
 67, 69, 70, 74, 87. On the Resurrection, 71. His mysticism, or intuition, 70. 
 His views on religious persecution, 69. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. HEKDER. 
 
 Herder's general notion of revelation, 89. His friend and teacher, Hamann, 
 90-91. His early acquaintance with Goethe, 92-94. His extensive literary 
 services, 94-9. The wide spread of Rationalism in Herder's time, 100-104. 
 His '" Ideas on the Philosophy of History," 104 6. His dubious or timid views 
 respecting Christology, 107-9. His theory of evolution, 110-11. His Utopian 
 notions of a future culture, 110-12. Wide-spread influence of his teaching, 
 111-12. The Pelagian character of his teaching, 112-13. The melancholy 
 of his later years, 113. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 The freethinking men of Berlin, 115. The common confession of Jacobi's 
 friends, 116-17. His life and correspondence, 117-20. His friend J. G. Hamann, 
 120-22. The Princess Gallitzin and her friends at Minister; Catholics and 
 Lutherans, 122-3. Imaginary plots of so-called "Jesuits ;" Lavater and his 
 i; black cap," 123-4. Leopold von Stolberg declares himself a member of the 
 Roman Catholic Church, and is censured by J. H. Voss, 124-6. Stolberg's 
 correspondence with Jacobi, 126. J. K. Lavater, 127-131 J. H. Jung 
 (known as Jung-Stilling*), 132. M. Claudius; his " Wandsbeck Messenger," 
 133-5. Jacobi on principle accepts for guidance only his own moral and 
 religious ideas and feelings, but is not at rest in his position, 135-8. His 
 doctrine of intuition and his subjective "faith," 138. His doctrine of intuition 
 compared with Kant's " postulates " of the moral conscience, 139-40. Jacobi, 
 Kant and Fichte alike dissatisfied with deism or rationalism wished to find 
 some basis of ethics, 140-42. Jacobi especially distrusts the conclusions of moral 
 philosophy ; but cannot accept Christianity as a revelation, 142-4. Jacobi, 
 Kant and Fichte, all wished to find as apart from revelation a basis for 
 ethics ; and all confessed their failure, 144-6. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Hume in theory destroys the basis of both deism and rationalism, 147-8. 
 Kant sees clearly the gist of Hume's negation, 148. Kant ; an outline of his 
 biography, 148-51. His " Critique of Pure Reason," 153. His "practical 
 reason " (= moral conscience), and practical theism, 154-5. Not satisfied with 
 his own ethical basis ; but admits that there exists in human nature " a radical 
 evil," 155-7. The world therefore requires the presence of the Christian 
 
CONTENTS. Xlll 
 
 Church ; and especially the light displayed in the person of Christ, 157-8. 
 His views, as regards the authority of the Church, are merely subjective ; and 
 he still maintains that man's moral conscience ought to be independent and 
 self-sufficient, 158-60. His views on "mediation," faith, and "prayer;" 
 heathen religions and Judaism, natural religion, utilitarian morals. 161-5. 
 Schools of theology founded on Kant's teaching, 163-4. General results of his 
 teaching, 164-6. He admits a need of divine revelation, and yet tacitly denies 
 its existence, 166-7. He contradicts himself in asserting the independence of 
 our conscience, and also its need of religious aid, 167-70. Viewed apart from 
 this self-contradiction, his general teaching implies that ethics ought to be, and 
 can be, independent of religion, 167-9. And this general notion has been 
 supposed to be well-grounded on Kant's moral philosophy, and has been widely 
 spread by a free use of his name (especially by Carlyle), 169-71. This false 
 notion, rejected indirectly by himself, afterwards by Fichte, is especially 
 denounced in the strongest terms by Hegel, who asserts : that political institu- 
 tions are based on ethics ; and that ethics are based on religion, 171-4. Kant 
 therefore indirectly gave aid to the spread of the " monstrous error of our 
 times." 174. Practically Kant was a reverential man, who must not be classed 
 with the commonplace rationalists of his time, 176. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. FICHTE'S RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Fichte in his first philosophy makes the mind of man absolute, as the source 
 of all knowledge, and his conscience absolute, as the source of all morality and 
 law, 178-9. He was therefore accused of atheism ; so far justly as he recognized 
 no existence of God save in " moral order," and ascribed this order solely to 
 man's own conscience. He thus brought to a climax the doctrine of indepen- 
 dence or autonomy which Kant had but partially maintained, 180. Fichte was 
 led partly by experience to abandon his first position, 181-6. He denounces 
 the frivolity of the freethinking men of Berlin, 187-8. Makes a distinction 
 between morality and religion, and asserts now that religion is the soul of 
 morality, 188-90. Renounces his early independence, and confesses that all 
 men are ethically dependent on Christ, who has opened for all the way to the 
 Kingdom of Heaven. 191-4. His later philosophy ignored by Carlyle, who has 
 spread widely a knowledge of Fichte 's philosophy of moral independence, 194. 
 
 CHAPTKR IX. CARLYLE. 
 
 Carlyle belongs to a class of men remarkable for their wide-spread sym- 
 pathies, 195-6. An outline of his biography, 197-200. His various studies, 
 literary essays and " latter-day pamphlets," 200-202. His gospel of " work," 
 202. His partial representations of the doctrines of Kant and Fichte, 202-4, 
 He ignores their later moral teaching, 203. His unhistorical notion of freedom, 
 and ignorance of the fact, that freedom " for all men" was first taught by Jesus 
 Christ, 204-8. His ethical teaching not founded on any rehgion, but on 
 Fichte's first (or independent) ethical philosophy, 208-13. In opposition to 
 
X1Y CONTENTS. 
 
 Carlyle's teaching it is shown, that religion and ethics are distinct though 
 united. 213-16. His references to religious authority are vague, and virtually 
 amount to nothing more than appeals to conscience, 217. Carlyle severely 
 criticizes the religious faith of other men ; yet tells nothing of any better faith, 
 217-19. For maintenance of moral order he appeals ultimately to political 
 power, lauds despotism, and defends slavery, 219-20. Suppositions respecting 
 his tacit rejection of Christianity, 220-21. The problem suggested by his 
 writings, 222-4. 
 
 CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL EESULTS. TRANSITION. 
 
 The close of the eighteenth century a turning-point in philosophy, &c., 
 2-25-6. Popular results of destructive biblical criticism, 226-7. The retracta- 
 tions of Kant and Fichte popularly ignored; ethical independence still asserted, 
 223. Anticipatory view of a new philosophy, 228-30. Some restoration of 
 religious belief, 230-31. Anticipatory notice of a new rationalism, 232-6. 
 How was the Gospel first spread ? The convergence of the three lines of 
 evidence .-ethical, philosophical, and historical, 236-42. A new moral and 
 spiritual creation, 240. Christianity, the " absolute religion," the basis of all 
 truly "humanitarian" movements, 242-6. Concessions made by philosophy, 
 245-6. The philosophy of Schelling and Hegel recognizes as consonant with 
 their general theory the central tenet of Christian belief, 247. Transition from 
 philosophy to general literature, 247. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. POETRY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 
 
 A revolutionary time in general literature, 249. The indirect influence of 
 poetry, 250-52. Klopstock : a sketch of his biography, 253-5. Klopstock 
 would make German poetry Christian, 255-60. Wieland : a sketch of his 
 biography, 261-2. Wieland makes poetic literature subservient to sensualism, 
 263-6. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 
 
 The rise of classic German literature, 267-8. Goethe : a sketch of his 
 biography and his principal writings, 268-78. The question of his religious 
 belief still left unsettled, 279-84. His rationalistic views in the time, 1775-85, 
 284-7. The religious views implied or expressed in his "Faust" and the 
 " Wanderjahre," 288-301. Analytical view of Goethe's genius, 301-7. His 
 reserve respecting his religious belief, 306-9. His reverential views of Chris- 
 tianity, 309-17. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 
 
 Schiller: a sketch of his biography, 319-23. His writings divided into 
 three classes, 323-4. Schiller had an earlier and a later idea of freedom, 324-7. 
 His early faith and his early unbelief, 327-9. His faith in the moral power of 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 dramatic poetry, .329-30. His crude ideas of history and statesmanship. 331, 
 340. His ajsthetic-ethic philosophy, 332-4. His views of the French Revo- 
 lution, 335-42. His reverential views of Christianity, 343-6. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. THE " ROMANTIC SCHOOL," ETC. 
 
 Includes men of various classes, all united in their desire for a restoration 
 of religious belief, 347-9. The brothers Schlegel, Novalis, Tieck, Jean Paul, 
 349-55. The war of liberation : Arndt, Riickert, Uhland, Kerner, Lenau, 
 Chamisso, 355-60. The decline of the Romantic School ; political and social 
 questions made prominent in the writings of Borne, Heine, Gutzkow, etc., 360- 
 64. Schef er : his pantheistic or naturalistic poetry, 364-5. Minor poets of 
 our time; hymn-writers ; the subjective character of our modern hymns, 365-6. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The question, " Are our thoughts more than subjective ?" leads beyond Kant's 
 philosophy, to mysticism or to speculative philosophy. The affirmative reply, 
 not supported by logic, is called mysticism ; when so supported is called specu- 
 lative philosophy, 367-73. Kant's subjective ethics illustrated in a practical 
 case of conscience, 373-78. Steffens is led from mysticism to the Christian 
 faith, 380-90. The positive contents of mysticism derived from the mediaeval 
 Church, 391-5. The first principle of speculative philosophy, 395-6. Altered 
 relations of philosophy and religion, 397-8. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 
 
 The tendency of Schelling and Hegel described as "pantheistic," 399-401. 
 Schclling : sketch of his biography, 401-4. His earlier and his later philosophy, 
 404-9. His philosophy of revelation, 409-11, 415. The Hegelian School, 411- 
 415. Hegel : sketch of his biography, 416-17. The general form of his logic, 
 418-19. Views of society, history, freedom, art, 419-22. His declarations 
 respecting Christian tenets, 422-7. The question raised respecting his own 
 historical belief, 426 7. Three interpretations of Hegelian teaching : the 
 mythical theory of Strauss based on the first interpretation, 395, 426-9. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermacher : a sketch of his biography. 43C-31. Characteristics of his 
 later years, 434-8. His first principle of Christian belief: the Church of 
 Christ a continuance of his own life, 439. Opposition to the teaching of 
 Schleiermacher, especially that respecting the Church, 439-40, 445. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 
 
 Strauss and Baur especially opposed to Schleiermacher's first principle of 
 Christian belief, 446-8. The initial difficulty of Strauss and Baur ; the alter- 
 
XVI CONTENTS. 
 
 native to which their reasonings lead, 449, 463. The mythical theory of 
 Strauss ; the tendency theory of Baur, 450-52. Strauss : sketch of his bio- 
 graphy, 452-4. Temporary popularity of the mythical theory, 454-7. Replies 
 to Strauss ; endeavours to maintain Lutheran belief ; renewed assaults, 457-9. 
 The two theories combined by Strauss, who now accepts for the most part 
 Baur's theory of the Early Church, 459-62. Strauss and Baur verbally evade 
 their own inevitable conclusion, 462-4. The "system" of the "Tubingen 
 School," its antecedents and consequences, 464-73. Ultimate results : atheism, 
 materialism, pessimism, social democracy without faith, 473-77. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 
 
 The Christology of the Church before A.D. 150 ; characteristics of the 
 apostolic fathers, 478-83. The study of Christian Evidences ; a chronological 
 order recommended, beginning with the study of St. Paul's epistles, 483-8. 
 Early persecutions of Christians, 488-9. The value of large, connected quota- 
 tions as evidences of the Christology of the Early Church, 490-91. Concordant 
 testimony of apostolic fathers : Clement, Ignatius, Barnabas, Polycarp, Justin, 
 Irenaeus, 491-4. Concordant traits in the portraiture of our Lord, 494-7. 
 Christianity, not founded on human philosophy, has its own philosophy; 
 profound, yet clear and practical, 496-8. The self-evidential presence of 
 Christ, 499. 
 
GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LIMITATIONS. 
 
 GERMAN CULTUEE and CHRISTIANITY are words indicating 
 studies so extensive, that already large libraries are filled 
 with their results. These studies may be reduced to the 
 form of one inquiry, when we ask : how far are we indebted 
 for our culture, on one side to German energy, on the 
 other to Christian freedom ? Thus limited, however, the 
 inquiry is still one having a vast range, not easily defined ; 
 and it is named here only, by means of a wide contrast, to 
 make clear the intention of certain limitations, strictly 
 observed in the chapters following. Their range is limited 
 as regards the time 1770-1880 during which the contro- 
 versy to be described has been carried on. This time 
 includes the classic period of German literature, and has 
 been so prolific in polemical as well as in general literature 
 especially philosophical, biblical and theological that 
 other limitations must also be strictly observed, if an 
 account of the controversy is to be made compendious. 
 
 In the next place, then, disputes purely or mostly eccle- 
 siastical must be excluded. This limitation is not arbitrary, 
 but one belonging to the general character and the range 
 of the controversy itself, which, as here defined, began in 
 the time of Lessing. The same limitation, excluding 
 ecclesiastical questions, would remain correct if, to make a 
 
 i 
 
2 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 beginning, we travelled back as far as the time when Semler 
 a student at Halle was beginning his long course of 
 multifarious reading in theology. The innovations after- 
 wards largely extended by his numerous publications about 
 one hundred and seventy led on to extreme negation, and 
 to controversy ; but the dispute was (for the most part) not 
 one concerning the peculiar tenets of any one church or 
 confession, as arrayed in opposition to those of another. 
 On the contrary, disputation arose out of changes of opinion 
 and belief that had taken place in the minds of many Pro- 
 testants both Lutheran and Eeformed respecting the 
 substance of their own belief, and especially relating to 
 their common and central tenet, once firmly maintained by 
 the two confessions. About the middle of the eighteenth 
 century, the two confessions were dwelling together on 
 terms so amicable, that it might be fairly said of them, the 
 leopard lay down beside the lamb. The only sectarian 
 dispute of the time was one begun by an illiberal attack 
 made on the doctrines and practical lives of the United 
 Brethren, sometimes called " Moravians." 
 
 Out of the quietude of this period arose, and spread 
 rapidly, the unbelief called " old rationalism ;" and its 
 earliest and most prominent representatives were found 
 among the pastors of the two Protestant confessions. They 
 were men intelligent enough to see that the movement 
 which they so zealously aided must, if successful, end in the 
 destruction of that religion to which they owed their own 
 position, and their privilege of studious leisure. Apparently, 
 however, it was their firm belief that with perfect success, 
 and until the end of the world, the State would continue to 
 appoint, and the people would be willing to obey, a succes- 
 sion of pastors and teachers nominally Christian pastors 
 whose belief had dwindled down to an abstract and inert 
 formula rightly called " deism," and precisely equivalent in 
 moral worth to the formula of Robespierre : f ' il y a un 
 etre supreme." Respecting any moral relations which 
 might be supposed as existing between that uttermost 
 
CHAPTER I. LIMITATIONS. 3 
 
 abstraction and this real world, with all its sins, sufferings, 
 and mysteries of good and evil, nothing whatever was told 
 more than this : the world was created by the Supreme 
 Being. 
 
 The obvious objection that may here be made, is not to be 
 neglected, though it is founded on error. The deists, we 
 are told, reduced the Christian religion to a system of 
 morals, and thus, it may be supposed, they still retained 
 some true knowledge of God, by whose authority that 
 system of morals had been instituted. This is not a true 
 conclusion. Their morals had no actual relation to divine 
 authority; but were founded, almost invariably, on self- 
 interest well understood ; that is to say, on prudent egoism. 
 In the contest of the senses against the soul, their final 
 authority to be consulted was always their own " enlightened 
 understanding ;" in plain English, just the same common 
 sense that we employ every day, every hour, in our matters 
 of ordinary business say, for example, in affairs of common 
 law. Here is really contained the whole philosophy of the 
 more advanced writers called deists; otherwise called 
 " popular philosophers/' and here is also the philosophy of 
 the " old rationalists/' who, in North Germany, were so 
 active, in their own destructive way, during the latter half 
 of the eighteenth century. It is not forgotten that other 
 destructive writers, essentially belonging to the same class, 
 lived in the earlier half of the same hundred years, and that 
 these again had their preceding teachers, who lived in the 
 latter half of the seventeenth century. These facts to be 
 more distinctly noticed in another place are named here, 
 only to show the breadth or general scope of the contro- 
 versy introduced by the " deists/' or " old rationalists/' and 
 made more definite by Lessing. 
 
 The way in which Lessing made the controversy more 
 definite must now be noticed. His master-thought more 
 clearly developed by later writers, especially by Hegel is 
 this : our highest thought of mankind, as regards their 
 need of, and their capacity for receiving a divine revelation, 
 
 1 * 
 
4 GERMAN CULTUKJC AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and our highest thought of God, as freely and largely giving 
 to mankind a revelation of his own mind and will : these 
 thoughts, taken together, constitute our only possible true 
 or most adequate concept of a revealed religion. Is the 
 Christian religion one to be accepted as corresponding with 
 that, our highest and most comprehensive idea of reve- 
 lation ? 
 
 Lessing does not immediately answer this question in the 
 affirmative, but he goes on to show, that revelation for 
 mankind like education for an individual must be gradual, 
 and then he shows how the Christian faith has, for nearly 
 two thousand years, appeared as one very important part of 
 a vast gradual revelation, of which the final issue is unknown. 
 Here the general scope of the question, and its reverent 
 tone, serve at once to put between Lessing and all frivolous 
 writers of Dr. Bahrdt's school a moral distance feebly repre- 
 sented by talking of millions of leagues. Here then is the 
 true beginning of the controversy to be studied. Here is 
 the line of division, where we leave the sweeping negations 
 and the gross irreverence of <: old rationalism," and come 
 face to face with the problem of modern religious philo- 
 sophy. Is Christianity to be regarded as a great transi- 
 tional movement, in a vast and gradual process, by which 
 God is making known his own mind and will, while man- 
 kind, in proportionate degrees, are learning more and more 
 how to think and act rightly, as regards their relations 
 toward God, and their duties toward one another and the 
 world at large ? Or is Christianity to be accepted as the 
 absolute and final revelation of God ? This is the question, 
 and its importance for every man is so great, that it must 
 be put as clearly as possible. The main idea of Lessing's 
 theory is, therefore, here treated briefly, in the way of 
 analysis. 
 
 All men speak, in a physical sense, of the heavens and 
 the earth. They look down on the latter and up to the 
 former, and clearly understand that they are set apart. At 
 the same time, it is equally sure that they exist in union. 
 
CHAPTER I. LIMITATIONS. 5 
 
 All that here below seems separately fixed and independent 
 is, every moment, dependent on the same regulated forces 
 that preserve "the stars from wrong;" on the same living 
 laws under whose control the heavens, with all their hosts, 
 remain " fresh and strong." Distance does not destroy 
 union; but union is more powerfully, more expansively, 
 made manifest by means of distance. 
 
 So Lessing thinks of the active union ever maintained, 
 by means of diversity, between the finite and the infinite 
 between mankind, ever striving, learning, making progress, 
 and God, ever resting in his own infinite activity, ever 
 teaching, guiding, imparting to men more and more 
 knowledge of Himself, and of their own true nature and 
 destiny. On one side of Lessing's concept we have the 
 notion of revelation, on the other, the notion of man's 
 capacity for accepting a revelation. Here capacity is not to 
 be understood in a passive sense. Not for a moment is it to 
 be supposed that revelation is to be imparted, as rain is 
 made to fall upon an inactive and senseless rock. For the 
 revelation to be granted, man must first make earnest 
 inquiry. It is to the feeble hand, lifted up, that the stronger 
 hand is extended, to give the aid required. As man strives 
 on, and in striving prays for aid, so God gives the aid 
 required, and the strength to go on, gaining increase of 
 capacity to accept more and more knowledge of God. 
 
 These are the two sides of Lessing's concept of revelation 
 two sides ever clearly distinct from each other, never 
 separated. Man, as Lessing implies, is ever seeking union 
 with God, while God is ever willing to impart to the 
 religious and progressive mind a knowledge of divine 
 truth. By what medium ? This is the question that next 
 arises. 
 
 " By a series of prophets and teachers." This is Lessing's 
 reply. 
 
 After the revelation granted to the ancient people of 
 Israel, whose records are contained in the Old Testament, 
 Christ appeared as a teacher of higher truth and more 
 
6 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 spiritual moral doctrine, enforced by better motives than 
 those which had been formerly supplied by promises and 
 threatenings of secular rewards and punishments. Kecords 
 of his own words and actions, followed by several epistles 
 and other writings by his early followers, constitute the 
 New Testament, a second elementary book issued for the 
 teaching of mankind, a book that now for many centuries 
 has served better than all other books to enlighten the 
 minds of men. This fact will remain true, even if it be 
 granted that it is the light of their own highest reason that 
 shines forth, as with a new radiance, reflected from the 
 pages of that book. 
 
 For a time [a very long time ?] this elementary book, the 
 New Testament, must serve as an indispensable and in- 
 superable standard for the moral guidance of mankind. 
 And those who esteem themselves advanced thinkers should 
 take care not to let their own supposed superiority appear 
 too oppressively, or so as to bewilder and discourage their 
 weaker or less-advanced fellow- students. Students of the 
 highest class should rather make use of the same standard, 
 and moreover may, possibly with some advantage, consider 
 the question : Have we ourselves hitherto studied and 
 understood deeply enough all that is recorded in this 
 book ? 
 
 In passing, it may be noticed how well this view of a 
 gradual and progressive revelation accords with a well- 
 known leading trait in the writer's own character. He does 
 not ask for a repose like that of " nirvana," but takes care 
 to leave room for exertion, inquiry, and expectation. " It 
 is not possession," he says, " but earnest quest of truth that 
 expands our powers of mind. Possession makes us peaceful, 
 slothful and proud. If God held forth in his right hand the 
 truth itself, in his left the ever- during pursuit of truth, and 
 said, ' Choose/ then, with risk of always remaining liable 
 to error, I would humbly take the left, and say, ' Give me 
 this, Father, for absolute truth belongs to Thee alone/ " 
 
 Obviously, dangerous and restless error may be con- 
 
CHAPTER I. LIMITATIONS. 7 
 
 nected with such energetic love of research and progression. 
 There may surely be work enough still found in the duty of 
 expanding the periphery of a religion, while the centre is 
 left in ' ' in a repose that always is the same." All that is 
 positive and edifying in Lessing's notion of a progressive 
 revelation, where the medium is a series of teachers, may 
 be predicated of the Christian religion, while one Mediator 
 remains the centre of a boundless possible expansion, 
 Lessing himself implies that Christianity is not destined 
 to fall into the abyss of drear negation. Life conquers 
 life ; but death will not conquer life. And, however baffled 
 and insulted from time to time by men they still exist 
 belonging to the school of Dr. Bahrdt, the religion that has 
 seen empires fade away will not fall at the bidding of any 
 lower powers. Christianity has been a light that, through 
 all the mists of nearly two thousand years, has been shining 
 on, and if for a moment it may be supposed that this 
 light must some day fade away it will fade and die slowly, 
 as the twilight of dawn loses itself in the clear shining of 
 open day. The revelation to speak still in accordance 
 with Lessing's idea will be neither refuted nor destroyed, 
 but will be absorbed in the fulness of a greater revelation. 
 Will it not be soon enough to speak of such a change when 
 the greater revelation shows some signs of its appearance ? 
 Is our own period such a time ? Where is there a twinkling 
 ray of that coming, clearer light ? 
 
 That later German writers on the philosophy of religion 
 have, for the most part, retained as true, and have more or 
 less expanded, the idea above defined, will be shown in 
 later chapters, describing the systems of Kant, Fichte, 
 Schelling, and Hegel, so far as they relate to Christianity. 
 To say the least that is positive respecting the general 
 tone of their writings they denote some return toward a 
 respectful consideration of Christianity ; it would hardly 
 be too much to say, that philosophy herself has assumed 
 something like a penitential bearing, suggesting a wish to 
 make, if possible, some little reparation for the untold 
 
8 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 insults that, on all sides, were hurled against the Cross, by 
 the ghastly irreverence of the eighteenth century. 
 
 It is not suggested that the work of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury has been altogether undone, or that philosophy and 
 religion are now dwelling together in peace. It is true 
 that in Germany speculation is less irreverent ; but religious 
 philosophy is not religion. Religion must grasp, and hold 
 in firm union, faith in a substance unseen and true, and this 
 faith, as a living spirit, must pervade and control our whole 
 existence, intellectual, social, and natural. Religion is for 
 " all men," and it follows, that its appeal to the conscience 
 must be clear, self-evident, commanding. This is the basis 
 assumed in the Christian religion, and if the basis itself 
 is found infirm, the more thoughtful and tolerant bearing 
 of philosophical inquiry will not suffice to support a failing 
 faith. 
 
 If it must be granted that in our time faith has failed to 
 a very large extent, it must be equally clear that the main 
 cause of failure has not been intellectual. As to the vast 
 majority of all classes, men are neither critics nor philo- 
 sophers. Christianity, if waning, has not been refuted. 
 What, then, have been the main causes of so much failure ? 
 The duty of giving a reply to this most serious inquiry is 
 not ours. The question is named here merely in order to 
 suggest some fair consideration of the limits within which 
 impartiality may be reasonably expected as regards the nar- 
 rative and analytical chapters that follow. Indifference 
 respecting the issue of the question itself is not professed ; 
 but it is submitted that, when a writer's views and senti- 
 ments as regards the question itself are simply remote 
 from, but not in a definitely polemical way opposed to, 
 those of any of the combatants on the one side or on the 
 other, then the whole story of their contest may surely be 
 told with some fair approach to impartiality. It is granted, 
 that apparent exceptions to the rule of impartiality may be 
 found in the chapter on " Old Rationalism," which serves as 
 an introduction to the notice of Lessing ; but it should be 
 
CHAPTER I. LIMITATIONS. 9 
 
 observed that with his coming into the field the true reli- 
 gious inquiry begins, and that the tone of discussion is 
 henceforth, for the most part, so far improved, that where 
 it is not precisely Christian, it is at least urbane and respect- 
 able. An accordant transition of tone will be found, it is 
 hoped, in the treatment of Lessing's views; and it is 
 intended that other able and thoughtful writers, worthy of 
 being classed as his followers, shall be treated with much 
 deference, while their opinions are coldly analyzed. 
 
 The question urged by the self-confident deists who 
 wrote near the close of the eighteenth century was this : 
 "Does Christianity accord everywhere so well with our 
 common sense that we are bound to accept it ?" and their 
 ready answer was, " No/' 
 
 Lessing's chief questions respecting religion may be put 
 briefly in words like these: "May not Christianity be 
 rightly viewed as an authoritative revelation from God ? as 
 a revelation of which the moral substance is undeniably 
 good, while the records are, on the whole, strongly sup- 
 ported by history ? Granted that difficulties, exciting doubt, 
 are found in some parts of the records is not the reve- 
 lation mainly one inviting our reasonable acceptation ; 
 requiring only such subordination of our understanding as 
 must be demanded by a revelation of this character ? Is 
 the truth that God has revealed to us in and through Christ 
 to be viewed barely in our own intellectual light ? Has it 
 not light and evidence in itself? Has it not power as well 
 as clearness ? Has it not, like the sun, warmth as well as 
 
 light r 
 
 Such questions are enough to tell us that the great critic, 
 when truly at home, and holding converse with his own 
 heart, was living far away from the scoffers of his age. So 
 Hegel describes the intellectual position of his great prede- 
 cessor. 
 
 The most important limitation of our inquiry has been 
 marked : it is Lessing's question that is chiefly to be con- 
 sidered. But since his time, both philosophical and historical 
 
10 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 inquiries respecting the evidences and the authority of 
 Christianity have shown a tendency toward making the 
 question still more definite. It has been felt, more and 
 more, that our general willingness to accept a doctrine and 
 rule of life including as Christianity surely does " some 
 things hard to be understood/' must be strongly affected 
 by our belief respecting the person of the Mediator. To 
 pass over an earlier time to which, however, the remark 
 might as truly apply since 1835, when Strauss published 
 his first " Life of Jesus," the later controversy has been 
 one in which several minor questions have been ably treated; 
 but the main conflict has been one in which disputants have 
 been more and more closely gathering themselves together 
 whether for attack or for defence and collecting their 
 forces all around one point, one tenet respecting the answer 
 to be given to the question : " Whom say ye that I am ?" 
 Here is the central position of the defence ; for here is the 
 point against which the attack masked at times by various 
 auxiliary movements has always been mainly directed. 
 
 This asserted centrality of the tenet mostly held in view 
 throughout all the chapters following, remains true, of 
 course, when we regard the ancient and most comprehensive 
 form of the doctrine, as preserved in the Nicene Creed, and 
 held as orthodox by a large majority of all men called 
 Christians; but the assertion of centrality also remains 
 true, as regards the less positive views of rationalists, of the 
 old school, and the new. If proofs of this position were 
 demanded, the only difficulty would be to select such as 
 may be named most briefly. Here is one: Since 1835, 
 when Strauss published his first ' ' Life of Jesus/' more than 
 twenty German works on the same subject have appeared. 
 
 A central tenet is one that serves as the keystone in an 
 arch. This was clearly enough understood by Keimarus, in 
 1764, and of course was as clearly seen by Strauss in 1862, 
 when he published a biography of his chief predecessor. 
 He threatened then that, if his theory of a mythical gospel 
 was not accepted, he should find himself driven to go back 
 
CHAPTER I. LIMITATIONS. 11 
 
 to the position held by Eeimarus ; i.e. that Christianity was 
 originally a deliberate imposition. This conditional threat- 
 ening was, in truth, a clear logical prevision of his conclusion, 
 almost reached in 1864, when his reconstructed work, the 
 ( ' Life of Jesus," appeared, and the conclusion was finally 
 announced in 1872, when he published his book, " The Old 
 Faith and the New." Here in reply to his own question 
 " Am I a Christian ?" he firmly answers, " No." 
 
 In accordance with the facts given, and many others of 
 which they are but specimens, the inquiry to be noticed is 
 chiefly to be viewed as one ever leading on toward an ulti- 
 mate question respecting one tenet, rightly regarded as the 
 central tenet of the Christian Religion. There is nothing 
 arbitrary in the limitation of view that makes all other 
 questions subordinate. Such limitation will, doubtless, to 
 many, seem obviously accordant with both logic and history ; 
 yet it may be well to add here some indisputable evidences 
 of its objective character. It is not the truth of the doc- 
 trine in question that is here affirmed, but its central 
 position, as viewed at once by those who accept it, and by 
 those who reject it. The following quotations are, therefore, 
 borrowed from two German authors, whose religious 
 opinions are mutually antagonistic in the extreme, and may 
 here suffice as evidence. The former quotation is taken 
 from the writings of Dr. Dorner, author of an elaborate 
 historical treatise on Christology : 
 
 " It is cheering," says he, " to observe how, in the long conflict 
 between Christianity and reason, we are gradually becoming clearer 
 in our common view of the main point in our disputation. This 
 above all must engage our attention, if ever the warfare is to be 
 ended. On both sides, the forces hitherto active in the conflict are 
 gathering themselves now more closely around this one point the 
 central position, where the battle will be lost or won. It is more and 
 more clearly seen, that the main question on which we are divided is 
 simply this : Can we, or can we not, accept as true this one central 
 tenet which the Christian Church, in all ages, has on the whole stead- 
 fastly maintained, respecting the person of Christ? On both sides of 
 our dispute it is advisable that attention should be concentrated here. 
 For thus philosophy will see the position to be attacked, if a decisive 
 
12 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 victory is to be won. Or, if there be, on the side of the attack, any 
 inclination toward coming to terms of truce, philosophy will now 
 foresee the character of the only conditions that can make it possible, 
 on our part, to extend toward those once our foes a friendly hand . . . 
 As parts are united in a living organism, so in the whole system of 
 Christian doctrines, each article is united with every other article, 
 and with the whole, while one tenet this of which we have spoken 
 ever remains steadfast, as the centre of the system." 
 
 The following quotation is from a writer Hartmann 
 whose aim, as regards Christianity, is destructive. He thus, 
 first of all, defines the central position held by Christology 
 in the whole organism of those doctrines against which his 
 subsequent negative criticism is directed : 
 
 " Christology the doctrine of Christ's person and work has to 
 consider the question : how must we think of His person and work, 
 so that He may be regarded as the one true Saviour of men, and His 
 work as the work of man's salvation? Dogmatic anthropology 
 defining our human nature, as regarded from a religious point of view 
 has to consider the question : how must the character of man be 
 defined, as at once needing salvation, unable to save himself, yet 
 capable of salvation by Christ? Next, Christology leads us on 
 though indirectly to Trinitarian doctrine ; and from a union of 
 Christology with anthropology are consistently developed other 
 Christian doctrines ; one showing the way in which we must seek and 
 find deliverance, another defining the intervention and aid of the 
 Church in leading men to salvation. Thus the whole system of 
 Christian teaching revolves around this one central tenet of salvation 
 by Christ. It is the specific mark by which Christianity is made 
 distinct from every other religion ; the formative centre of all Christian 
 doctrine ; the very core of the Christian faith ; in a word, the essence 
 of Christianity. This is simply a matter of fact, not to be denied. 
 From the time of the Early Church, down to our own days of liberal 
 and speculative Protestantism [in Germany] the central position of 
 Christology has remained unmoved, whatever the variations made in 
 numerous expositions of the doctrine. When, therefore, we come to 
 examine this one doctrine, we may rest assured, that the object of our 
 study is nothing less than the inmost substance of Christianity itself.'* 
 
 It is intended that the next two chapters, taken together, 
 should serve as an historical introduction, and make more 
 definite the position assumed by Lessing. 
 
CHAPTER II, 
 
 DEISM. 
 
 NEAR the close of the seventeenth century there was 
 published in England a small book, written by JOHN 
 TOLAND (1(569-1722), of which the positive teaching is 
 usually called deism. Before that time there lived in 
 England several deistic writers e.g. HOBBES, sometimes 
 erroneously called " an atheist " but Toland is named here, 
 chiefly because he was one of the writers to whom KEIMARUS, 
 a German deist, was indebted, as regards the general 
 doctrine of deism. This, as expounded by English writers, 
 was made the common basis of numerous German writers, 
 whose substantial likeness in belief has been disguised by 
 the use of many names ; such as " enlightened men/' 
 " popular philosopher s," " rationalists " and " neologists." 
 In the eighteenth century, these were all so many names for 
 deists. On the side of negation, their likeness was obvious; 
 for like Toland, they all rejected the " mysteries of Chris- 
 tianity." 
 
 In the nineteenth century, we have many writers who 
 agree well enough on their negative side, or alike reject 
 " mysteries," while in other respects they display learning 
 and powers of mind such as were hardly dreamed of among 
 "the old rationalists" and other deists of Germany, with 
 whom LESSING ought not to be classed. As to their own 
 positive views, the negative writers of our own time show 
 much variety, and here and there originality. Their names, 
 accordingly, are remarkably various, including such as these : 
 
14 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 "atheists," "pantheists/' " positivists," "agnostics/' and 
 " pessimists/' with "liberal Protestants/' "free theo- 
 logians/' and " speculative religionists." Still it may be 
 safely asserted that old-fashioned deists are numerous. 
 Among them, however, we have to notice only those in 
 whose writings is found a clear historical continuity, extend- 
 ing from the days of Toland to the close of the eighteenth 
 century. 
 
 A concise definition of deism will be expected only by 
 those who hardly know how dangerous are abstract terms. 
 One might say, the whole creed of deism is contained in 
 Robespierre's proclamation : "il y a un etre supreme /' but 
 this could serve only as a misrepresentation. Accepted in a 
 fair and historical sense, deism is a term denoting a widely 
 spread and deeply-rooted growth of opinions respecting one 
 question the relation existing between man and the 
 Supreme Being. In deistic writings belonging to the 
 eighteenth century are found mostly these three articles of 
 belief : (a) There is one G-od, the first cause of all things 
 created, who is personal and intelligent ; (b) his existence 
 can be demonstrated by our understanding ; (c) the created 
 world shows evidences of design, by which we are led to a 
 knowledge of his attributes : power, wisdom, and goodness. 
 This the general creed of deism, here divided into three 
 parts is found in numerous writings ; but while the first 
 article (a) has throughout been asserted, the second (b) has 
 been less firmly maintained on the whole; and the third, 
 the optimistic article (c), has in our day been subjected to 
 much severe criticism, leading to pessimism, or to the 
 general scepticism sometimes called agnosticism. Thus 
 decline has taken place in a ratio indicated by the contents 
 of the three articles : the third, asserting much that is 
 interesting, has been called in question ; the second has 
 been less and less asserted; and the first has, in many 
 instances, been deprived of its latter clause, ascribing to 
 God personality and intelligence. With these diminutions, 
 the creed is reduced to a very bare formula every effect 
 

 CHAPTER II. DEISM. 15 
 
 has a cause. This bare residuum is not fairly and 
 called deism. 
 
 It was the larger creed of deism, as above given, that in 
 1750-1800 was so widely spread in Germany and in France. 
 In both cases it was an importation from England ; but this 
 fact should not be isolated, so as to leave unnoticed the 
 other fact, that on the continent the minds of men had been 
 well prepared to accept the new creed. In France deism 
 and democracy made an alliance so intimate, that it would 
 be scarcely possible to assign to each its proper share in the 
 triumph that followed. All that was sure was, that deism 
 had done nothing to stay the progress of the revolution. 
 
 In Germany, about the same time, orthodoxy had fallen 
 with a rapidity reminding one of the capture of Jericho ; and 
 deism had spread itself with a speedy success, not unlike 
 that enjoyed by Islam in the seventh century. But it 
 should be remembered, that the repose immediately 
 preceding the sudden decline, or say rather the fall of 
 orthodoxy, had been a deceptive repose. The faith that 
 once gave energy to Lutheranism had to a great extent 
 decayed. The growth of deism was but the last stage of a 
 chronic and internal disease. 
 
 In England the antecedents of deism theological, ecclesi- 
 astical, and political were so complex, that a very brief 
 summary could serve only to misrepresent facts. One fact, 
 however, is clear: the controversies of the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries were especially ecclesiastical, or 
 where they were doctrinal, their general character was by 
 far less rationalistic than the principles assumed on both 
 sides during the latter deistic centroversy. Here, on the 
 side of the defence, there was shown, to a large extent, a 
 disposition to meet the enemy on ground held in common 
 by both parties, and this common ground was found in 
 history. Asserted facts were divided into two classes, the 
 probable and the improbable ; and the latter were rejected. 
 For a moment let it be supposed that the whole controversy 
 was one relating to alleged events in the life of Julius 
 
16 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Caesar. Did lie come over to Britain ? Why was his stay 
 here so short? How did it lead to the later occupation 
 under Claudius ? These are questions that fairly represent 
 the purely historical character of many discussions belonging 
 to our English deistic controversy. In reading some parts 
 of it, one cannot well avoid a suggestion that hardly seems 
 to have vexed the minds of the deists, while it is but 
 slightly noticed by their opponents, the apologists. 
 Supposing the latter had gained a sure victory, or had 
 compelled the deists to declare themselves historical 
 converts, what would the gain have been, so far as the 
 interests of religion were concerned? 
 
 To see clearly the extent of the ground ceded by the 
 apologists, it may be well to name at least some of the 
 positions chosen by more courageous champions. The New 
 Testament affords examples of the true argument that may 
 fairly be called primitive. Here a few leading facts are 
 asserted, and it is boldly assumed that these are such as 
 must appeal to the inmost conscience the true or common 
 conscience of mankind. St. Paul, preaching on Mars' 
 Hill, takes it for granted that some among his listeners are 
 seekers after God. He is preaching to men, and this, says 
 he, is the end for which 'men were created, that " they 
 should seek the Lord, though He be not far from every one 
 of us." Assuming that this must be admitted, he next 
 preaches boldly " JESUS and the resurrection." To use 
 modern terms the "religious philosophy" of the apostle 
 is this : the Christian faith is that for which all men are 
 seeking; it is the religion of human nature. "They that 
 deny a God destroy man's nobility" [his true development] 
 says Lord Bacon, and further, as St. Paul more definitely 
 asserts, they that reject the Gospel oppose themselves to the 
 true evolution of their own human nature which, as his 
 argument implies, is essentially religious not to say 
 Christian. In substaace, the apostle's argument is identical 
 with the best teaching of modern German apologists. This 
 is the primitive way of asserting the truth of our religion, 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 17 
 
 and, after all the reasonings of eighteen centuries, it will 
 in all probability be the last way. The evolution of humanity 
 cannot be separated from our Christian faith. 
 
 The second way in which Christianity has been asserted 
 and defended includes the first great argument employed by 
 St. Paul ; but adds another, founded on the existence and 
 the success of the Christian Church. The truth has been 
 asserted that faith in Christ, with submission to his 
 authority, is for mankind the sure way of liberation from sin 
 and misery ; it is now added, that witnesses to the truth of 
 this Gospel are numerous. Christianity, as now preached 
 and defended, is regarded, not as a mere doctrine, nor as a 
 history, but as the continued life and work of Christ himself 
 in his own Church. This principle supplies the argument 
 called ecclesiastical. A word is hardly required to show 
 that at the close of the seventeenth century such a mode 
 of self-assertion and defence could not, in England, be 
 employed with much hope of success, but might serve to 
 revive the bitter controversy of recent time. Still it should 
 be added that, without a word tending to revive that strife, 
 the apologists might have made a larger use of undisputed 
 historical records in favour of Christianity. In fact, how- 
 ever, they had hardly as much to say in favour of the 
 Church as would have been said by CALIXT (1586-1656) and 
 other German Protestants of his time. 
 
 The English apologists of the next century left for the most 
 part unnoticed those passages in Church History that might 
 have rendered, even in such a time as theirs, some most 
 valuable services in the controversy against deism. We refer 
 especially to those passages in which are set forth the moral 
 and social benefits derived from the original principles and 
 motives of Christian ethics. These benefits had been, 
 spread so widely that the principle of universal freedom, 
 of which Plato and Aristotle had never dreamed, was 
 reduced to the level of commonplace, and was claimed 
 by deistic writers as the birth-right of mankind. As 
 regards the ethical teaching of numerous deistic books 
 
 2 
 
18 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 English, French, and German widely circulated in the 
 course of the eighteenth century, there is an important 
 distinction to be made. Suum cuique Let the deists keep 
 their own ; bat let them, at the same time, restore what has 
 been either unconsciously taken away, or deliberately stolen 
 from Christianity. It is not said that no effort was made by 
 Christian apologists to claim for the religion they defended 
 the morals and motives essentially belonging to their creed ; 
 but it is suggested that, with such learning as in several 
 instances was arrayed on their side, they might have done 
 more in dispelling errors partly remaining at the present 
 day respecting the moral and the historical claims of deistic 
 philosophy. 
 
 The common aim of the deistic writers has been to reduce 
 Christianity to a code of morals ; and in many of their most 
 popular books the morals are, for the most part, those 
 collectively styled " eudaimonism ;" or those denned as 
 having for their common ground <( self-interest well under- 
 stood." This, however, is but a partial statement of facts : 
 deistic books are numerous, and it is an undeniable fact 
 that, in several instances, they contain true Christian 
 morals. Indeed, in some writings belonging to our own 
 time it will not be difficult to find both deistic and atheistic 
 philosophy connected with ethical teaching obviously 
 borrowed from Christianity. The writers are unconscious 
 moral parasites, who live on the system they attack; in 
 other words, they assume as their own, or as common 
 products of human reason, ethical principles belonging 
 wholly to Christianity. They speak, for example, with just 
 contempt of ill-acquired and hoarded wealth, while patiently- 
 endured poverty is commended in tones of true Christian 
 kindness. Continuous self-sacrifice, for the good of others, 
 is regarded as a duty not impossible, and unbounded 
 beneficence, such as the world has called .wild or romantic, 
 wins the admiration of men called deists. With less 
 emphasis, they speak sometimes of inward purity, and of 
 virtues that God alone can see and estimate; but these also 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 19 
 
 are apparently regarded as products of unaided human 
 reason, or as instincts of our common nature. Above all, it 
 is freedom the absolute freedom of every individual, in 
 thought, word, and act, so far as unrestrained by mutual 
 consent it is this freedom that must be proclaimed as the 
 great moving principle of modern life and society ; and this 
 principle has, without doubt, been most energetically 
 asserted by numerous writers whose creed or philosophy is 
 called deistic, as well as by others whose atheology or 
 agnosticism is less readily defined. The question suggested 
 here is momentous : Do the virtues or principles above 
 named belong, as asserted, to our own reason, or to the 
 instincts of our nature, as overruled and guided by the 
 enlightened philosophy of deism ? And, when supported 
 by such virtues, can the principle of freedom be fully 
 developed and safely carried out in practice without the aid 
 of the Christian religion? These questions demand some 
 brief notice here; for they will be suggested again and 
 again when the writings of German deists and rationalists 
 are more distinctly noticed. Their answer is almost inva- 
 riably affirmative. Their principle of freedom, and their 
 code of morals are ( they say) alike independent of all such 
 aid as a revealed religion can supply. Granting for a 
 moment the truth of this assertion, it is obvious, then, that 
 a large body of moral evidence on the opposite side must 
 lose its force; and reason, if capable of producing the best 
 moral results hitherto ascribed to Christianity, must be 
 accepted as a trustworthy guide. It follows also, that 
 deism must be no longer described as a cold, abstract, and 
 lifeless philosophy. 
 
 The importance of these conclusions is obvious ; and it is 
 the duty of a Christian apologist to show the error of their 
 premisses. If deism can fairly claim, and can put into 
 force, all the best moral principles and rules found in modern 
 deistic writings of the higher class, then it must be allowed 
 that, in an ethical point of view, Christianity has to meet, if 
 not a legitimate and competent rival, one morally respect- 
 
20 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 able, so far as independent. But the suppositions on which 
 the moral claims of deism, are founded are delusions ; those 
 claims are not valid : their supposed validity is an error 
 that has arisen out of ignorance respecting the nature and 
 the history of religion. Of such ignorance instances might 
 readily be found in deistic books of a low class j but it is 
 fairer to notice here a book representing most favourably all 
 the best teaching of modern deism; a deism that must, 
 as regards its ethical doctrine, be called eclectic. 
 
 This is the deism of M. SIMON'S work on " Natural Reli- 
 gion," a book of comprehensive and noble purpose, and 
 hardly inferior to any ethical treatise of which the theological 
 basis is deistic. It should be premised that the writer, 
 sometimes borrowing thoughts from heathen philosophers 
 does not forget to refer often to the New Testament. Here 
 is the beginning of a chapter, of which the special title is 
 " Prayer " : 
 
 " There is a God perfectly good, and omnipotent, who has created 
 the world and governs it. This God has placed us here on earth, in 
 order that we may be tried by sorrow and sacrifice, and so may be 
 prepared for the happy and immortal life that awaits us beyond the 
 tomb. Here we have natural religion based on these dogmas : we know 
 our origin, our law [of life] and our destination. This God, who by 
 his own almighty will has created us, has treated us as a father treats 
 his children ; has made us immortal, and has bestowed on us, with 
 liberty, also love, and intelligence. The course of trials to which we 
 are made subject is necessarily mingled with bitterness ; but we are 
 not left solely dependent on our own resources. All things have been 
 so arranged, in ourselves and around us, that we are enabled to 
 accomplish our work, to do our duty, when once we have fairly 
 resolved to do it. First of all, we know our relations to God, and we 
 know of his nature all that we need know, in order to adore and love 
 Him." 
 
 Obviously then supposing this teaching to be based on 
 our independent reason of all pleas in behalf of revealed 
 religion, that which is the strongest, as regards its appeal to 
 our common sense, must lose a great part of its force, if it 
 does not entirely fall to the ground ; for it is assumed in 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 21 
 
 this plea that the Christian revelation has been and still is 
 required, through the frailty of human reason. 
 
 But reason, says M. SIMON, here representing the views 
 of numerous deists -can tell us what we especially require 
 to know, concerning God providence immortality 
 righteousness. In his attempts to establish his positions, 
 there is to be noticed one very good trait j he does not 
 make use of silent evasion. The grand difficulty discussed 
 in the book of Job the question to which Omniscience 
 itself there gives no answer ; this is not evaded by such a 
 repartee as is given by POPE : 
 
 " But sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed 
 What then ! is the reward of virtue bread ?" 
 
 "Yes/' would be the answer of common sense, says 
 M. Simon, in effect, when he proceeds to show that man's 
 immortality alone can suggest a solution of doubts excited 
 by the unequal distribution of natural good and evil in this 
 world. To " natural religion," then, we must appeal for 
 consolation, and if this " religion " really does contain all 
 that M. Simon so clearly and eloquently sets forth, we shall 
 not be severely disappointed. For here are some of the 
 contents of his religion : a firm belief in the existence of 
 God ; a considerable knowledge of his will and his design 
 as regards the moral education of mankind; a firm assu- 
 rance respecting the unsleeping vigilance of Divine Provi- 
 dence, and the immortality of the soul; lastly, a trust in 
 some final just arrangement of rewards and punishments. 
 These are the cardinal points in the system of deistic or 
 " natural " religion of which M. Simon is an able expositor, 
 and it is not to be doubted, that for every assertion of his 
 belief he has reasons that to his own mind are sufficient. 
 But can these reasons be made common ? [Here the word 
 is employed with its original force.] M. Simon knows well 
 the force of this question ; for of all deistic writers he stands 
 foremost in generosity. Again and again he notices the 
 fact, that truths but dimly apprehended by philosophy have 
 
22 GEEMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 by means of Christian teaching been made common. Solu- 
 tions of difficulties too great to be encountered by the 
 average intelligence of mankind, have been given in the 
 way of revelation the only way in which they can be given 
 to "all men" and of these solutions several are also given 
 by M. Simon,, but now in the form of philosophical conclu- 
 sions. The fact is, that the atmosphere, intellectual and 
 moral, surrounding us in these modern times, is so mixed 
 with Christian influence, that it is difficult for any man- 
 certainly for every generous and sympathetic man to think, 
 or write, on any religious, ethical, or philanthropic theme, 
 without some unconscious repetition of ideas made common 
 by One who said " Heaven and earth shall pass away ; but 
 my words shall not pass away." It is through the light 
 shed forth by those ideas that we are now enabled to see so 
 clearly the moral truths, made evident (as we suppose) by 
 " the light of reason." 
 
 In the upper dales and glens among mountains, there is 
 often noticed an ocular deception that may surprise a young 
 traveller. He is walking along a narrow dale, where the 
 slope is so gradual that he hardly knows he is climbing. 
 On the west his view is closely bounded, while on the east 
 he sees, peering over a wall of dark rock, a snow-clad peak. 
 Its whiteness, in contrast with the nearer dark rock, makes 
 the peak seem near, and the traveller is surprised when 
 told that it rises to a height of ten thousand feet above the 
 sea-level. The fact is, he has already climbed some seven 
 thousand feet, and the whole of the landscape about him, as 
 far as he can see, is elevated. So, in Europe, at the present 
 time, we stand morally on elevated ground, to which we 
 have been raised by Christianity, and positions that for 
 Plato and Aristotle were high, inaccessible yea, invisible 
 seem now close at hand, or rise hardly over the level of 
 our much-lauded ''common sense/' There is a lower, and 
 there is a higher common sense. The former is the result of 
 many centuries of observations, made in the world of the 
 eenses, and classified by the understanding : the latter is 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 23 
 
 the result of revelation, accepted by faith, confirmed by 
 spiritual experience, and found true in its applications to life 
 and practice so true that, at last, it is generally recognized 
 as our Christian common sense. For one example, where is 
 there a thoughtful man who especially in our own times 
 does not see clearly, that freedom and sound morality must 
 be closely united, if freedom is to be made compatible with 
 the order of society ? This is simply -one of the axioms of 
 common sense ; but it may seem a paradox, when it is 
 added, that our modern idea of freedom is but a sadly 
 mutilated form of the perfect idea, first revealed when it 
 was said: " Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall 
 make you free." The assertion may startle some rationa- 
 listic critics ; but it is historically correct. 
 
 Enough has been said 011 this point to suggest that 
 Christian apologists in the eighteenth century might have 
 challenged more boldly the moral pretensions of deism, and 
 on the other hand might have asserted more largely the 
 moral and social beneficence of Christianity. In certain 
 respects, their timidity had some excuse in the ecclesiastical 
 circumstances of the time. The notions of sporadic inspi- 
 ration that, during the commonwealth and afterwards, 
 prevailed to a considerable extent, left behind them, among 
 the English clergy, a dread of everything like enthusiasm. 
 Mystic piety was still asserted here and there by a few 
 lonely students, especially by WILLIAM LAW, whose book, 
 the " Serious Call to a Holy Life," was not ineffectual in its 
 day ; and other exceptional instances might be named ; but 
 taking it as a whole, the time 1689-1750 was in England a 
 period unfavourable to the growth of earnest religion. Not 
 only miracles and fulfilments of prophecy, but also excep- 
 tional or unfashionable instances of piety, zeal and devotion, 
 were made to appear highly improbable when measured by 
 the standard set up in polite society. The age was critical, 
 rather than teachable, and had little capacity for the study 
 of history. A calm, objective, and comprehensive study of 
 evidence this first course of preparation for the work of 
 
24 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 historical criticism was not a distinguishing trait of the 
 period. The limitation of its own clear understanding was 
 viewed as the boundary-line, beyond which hardly a suppo- 
 sition was allowed. Consequently, the final negation to 
 which rejections of various historical evidences seemed pre- 
 paratory, was in fact predetermined. In other words, it 
 was the central tenet of Christianity that deism endeavoured 
 to destroy, in order that all positive religion might disap- 
 pear, and leave room for an intelligible and practical system 
 of morality. Yield that mysterious doctrine, said the deists, 
 and all that belongs to it ; then Christianity will appear in 
 its proper form, or as a purely ethical system. 
 
 To a very large extent, and for a considerable space of 
 time, the concession thus demanded was granted, in Eng- 
 land, in France, and in North Germany; especially in 
 Prussia, where deism, called rationalism, was triumphant 
 during the time 1750-1800. The proposed experiment was 
 made, and what has been the result ? Has " free-thinking" 
 found repose in negation ? On the contrary, philosophy 
 itself, while enjoying perfect freedom of thought and 
 speech, has described deism as " a series of contradictions" 
 and, in the present century, has made a movement of 
 approximation toward that Christian doctrine of which a 
 total sacrifice was demanded. Here this is but a prelimi- 
 nary assertion. Its proofs are given in the historical and 
 analytical chapters following. They may be now intro- 
 duced by some brief account of deism, as represented in 
 England, in the latter half of the seventeenth century and 
 the earlier half of the eighteenth. The English deism of 
 this time was afterwards widely spread in France, and in 
 Germany. In substance it remained unchanged, though in 
 modes of expression it was altered. 
 
 JOHN To LAND, in 1695, published a little book called 
 " Christianity Not Mysterious," which soon excited consi- 
 derable controversy. Among the numerous works pro- 
 duced to refute its reasonings, one, written by NORRIS, 
 rector of Bemerton, ends with a prediction that such con- 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 25 
 
 cessions as Toland demanded must, if granted, lead to 
 further demands, and could end only in a total negation of 
 Christianity. The facts of the eighteenth century agree 
 well with that prediction, published in 1697. The basis of 
 Toland's reasoning is this : nothing can justly require oar 
 faith and submission, save that which agrees with the laws 
 of our understanding. 
 
 " The understanding is the man : " this axiom remained 
 the basis of all reasonings against mysteries, from the 
 days of Toland to the time 1781, when Kant published his 
 analysis of that understanding of which so much had been 
 vaguely written. He then went on to show that our ideas 
 of God, moral duty, and immortality, are founded in our 
 own nature, though they can never be demonstrated by our 
 understanding. If it might be supposed that readers would 
 always accept the word " understanding" with the meaning 
 attached to it in Kant's analysis, then the whole history of 
 rationalism might be clearly, and at the same time, briefly 
 written. The word understanding for which "reason/' 
 "enlightenment," " sense" and "common sense" were 
 synonyms denoted the final authority to which deists and 
 rationalists referred, from the time of Toland down to 1781. 
 When philosophy denied the absolutism of that authority, 
 the end of rationalism, strictly so called, drew near. Its 
 main axiom was refuted, not by " priestcraft," but by clear 
 thinking, greatly aided by a high degree of moral purity. 
 It was Kant who destroyed both the deistic doctrine and 
 the moral teaching of old rationalism. 
 
 Toland' s small book represented the fundamental prin- 
 ciple of deism. The notion that any sentiment or thought 
 call it " instinct " or " intuition " may be transcendent, 
 or may lie beyond the limits of the understanding, and yet 
 may be true, nay, holy and authoritative, demanding rever- 
 ence and devout acceptation this was accounted a baseless 
 notion, at once to be rejected. Still more contemptuously 
 to be rejected if possible was all belief in the historical 
 validity of a character uniting in Himself natural and super- 
 
26 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 natural, human and divine attributes. Here the negation 
 the basis on which rationalism was founded was only for- 
 mally distinct from the positive assertion so often implicitly 
 repeated " The understanding is the man/' This devas- 
 tating assertion at once makes an end of the Christian 
 religion, and of a great number of good instincts, thoughts 
 and sentiments, long supposed to be well grounded in our 
 common human experience. 
 
 The range of Toland's negation was clearly seen by 
 LEIBNITZ, who wrote one of the fifty-four replies that, 
 before 1761, were elicited by this one little book "Chris- 
 tianity Not Mysterious." There are some thoughts above 
 your reason, said Leibnitz, though not contradictory, as you 
 suppose ; and leaving alone the Christian religion you 
 may find in nature hints suggesting modesty in our reason- 
 ings ; e.g. we talk of scents and colours, though our notions 
 of them can hardly be called clear; and you speak of 
 " substances " and " causes," as if knowing well your own 
 meanings, though you have not clearly defined them. We 
 are all finite creatures, and yet the infinite must be present 
 in each of us. This, too, you may reject, simply because it 
 is ' ' mysterious." For so great is your dislike of " mys- 
 tery," that you go on to ask : <( Were an incomprehensible 
 truth revealed, what would be the use of it ?" I reply, the 
 truth of magnetism, viewed simply as an existing force, is 
 well known, and the mariner's compass is useful; though 
 the laws of magnetic action are but partly known, and its 
 source still remains incomprehensible." 
 
 The thoughts of Leibnitz were expressed in Latin, and 
 in a style that in England seemed weak, when com- 
 pared with that of the several bold writers who, in 
 opposition to all belief in mysteries, appealed to the clear 
 dictates of "common sense." Perfect freedom of inquiry 
 was especially demanded by ANTHONY COLLINS (1676-1726) 
 whose " Discourse of Freethinking " soon followed his book 
 " Priestcraft in Perfection." With considerable ability, he 
 asserts his own natural right to deny all that he does not 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 27 
 
 understand ; yet he condescends so far as to cite some pre- 
 cedents, to establish his own principle. " Paul/' says he, 
 "was a freethinker." This suggestion of a rather wide con- 
 trast might have been as well avoided; for the apostle's in- 
 spiration here strangely misnamed " freethinking " surely 
 led to positive and practical results. The results of Collins 
 and his friends remind one rather of such words as these : 
 " The blindest fanatics are those whose zeal is destructive. 
 What do they want ? For the most part, nothing positive. 
 They would destroy and utterly clear away every vestige of 
 ' superstition / but what would they build on the site left 
 vacant? Granted they succeed; these ' enlightened ' or 
 ' advanced ' men will be then left rusting in ennui, and 
 the kindest thing to be proposed will be this : let a detach- 
 ment from their party build up again some old superstition, 
 so that their friends may again enjoy their only possible 
 pleasure, which consists in pulling things down." 
 
 In making available for his own argument the concessions 
 made by several of the apologists, COLLINS showed much 
 dexterity when he attacked the evidences supplied by 
 fulfilled prophecy. His argument was indeed made some- 
 what formidable by the the ill-concerted tactics of some of 
 his opponents. They had largely conceded the principle, 
 that their religion must mainly depend on historical demon- 
 strations of miracles and fulfilled prophecies the latter to 
 be interpreted with some freedom. Respecting the literal 
 sense, the apologists were not aided by the strange hypo- 
 thesis then invented by Whiston. The original prophecies 
 of the Old Testament, he contended, were long ago altered 
 by the Jews, to the end that they should not afford sure 
 evidence in favour of Christianity. Of all evidences, said 
 Collins, the surest ought to be fulfilment of prophecy ; but 
 clearly, if the literal sense alone is accepted, the Messiah of 
 the New Testament is not the Messiah of the Old. The 
 controversy that followed was especially complicated and 
 wearisome. 
 
 The next attack, led on by WOOLSTON (1669-1733) and 
 
28 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 supported by ANNET (who died in 1768), was directed 
 against miracles, especially against the resurrection, and 
 called forth not less than sixty defensive publications. 
 These endeavours did not stay the progress of unbelief. 
 Before the middle of the century, MORGAN and CHUBB 
 proclaimed their rejection of all positive religion. The 
 latter, in his theory of "-dreams" and "visions," as causes 
 of belief in the resurrection, anticipated the conclusion to 
 which Strauss was led in 1835. Further notice of ChubVs 
 argument is deferred, as it will reappear in later pages. A 
 similar remark might apply to many other reasonings of 
 English deists j but their chief work, sometimes called "the 
 deist's bible/' must be named. 
 
 The " deist's bible " is properly entitled " Christianity as 
 Old as the Creation, or the Gospel a Republicaticn of the 
 Eeligion of Nature." This is the book, once formidable, 
 that served as an armoury for later deists, especially for 
 THOMAS PAINE (1737-1809) ; and so great was its reputation, 
 that in the course of a few years after its publication 
 not less than a hundred books English, French, and 
 German appeared as replies, intended to refute its 
 arguments. 
 
 The author, MATTHEW TINDAL (1657-1733), had called him- 
 self a Roman Catholic, when James II was king ; but in 
 1687 he left the Church, and by his later services under 
 William III, obtained a pension of 200. His " religion of 
 nature," as translated into familiar words, is a doctrine of 
 which the virtual principle is self-love ; while virtue, so far 
 as it serves to insure personal comfort, is highly commended. 
 It is understood, that self-love must be guided by 
 intelligence, which again must be well guided by the divine 
 reason displayed in nature ; and virtue is defined as conduct 
 accordant with that reason. Otherwise, virtue is self- 
 guidance, consonant at once with insight, as regards the 
 aims of nature, and with the assertion of perfect freedom. 
 Accordingly, the writer is led to a rejection of every 
 positive religion, so far as it professes to reveal anything 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 29 
 
 more than what is found in natural religion. To this 
 doctrine of intelligent self-love several critics have applied 
 the rather pedantic name " eudaimonism." The same 
 practical teaching, respecting the motive of virtuous conduct, 
 is found in the writings of LOCKE ; but he does not reject 
 positive religion. He rather shows, how a reasonable regard 
 for our self-interest should lead us to accept the additional 
 guidance which Christianity affords. The exceedingly 
 modest claim thus asserted by Locke, on behalf of divine 
 revelation, won for him an eminent position among English 
 apologists, while in Germany, certain orthodox Lutherans 
 described him as the coryphaeus of deism. The fact was, so 
 low was the general estimate of religion, as viewed by men 
 of " polite " culture, that it was regarded as a condescension, 
 when a philosopher like Locke found a word to say in 
 favour of Christianity. 
 
 The doctrine of innate ideas opposed to the theory 
 which Locke had made predominant was defended by 
 ANTHONY ASHLEY COOPER, third Earl of Shaftesbury (1671- 
 1713). His style of writing, too studiously polished, has 
 not made perfectly clear his views of religion. They were 
 not sorrowful, and not remarkably earnest. His moral 
 teaching is Platonic in theory. Virtue, he says, must be 
 loved when seen, and her dictates must be obeyed, without 
 a thought of any reward save the happiness that essentially 
 belongs to her presence. Let us love virtue; then we 
 shall have a heaven upon earth. Of this real world, with 
 its sins and sorrows, tShaftesbury tells us little or nothing. 
 He finds here no dreadful antithesis of good and evil. Why 
 should he inquire for a way of reconciliation ? His aspect 
 towards Christianity denotes mostly a placid independence 
 of all such aid as a revelation can afford. He does not hate 
 Christianity. The pure ethics of the religion, says he, are 
 enough to recommend themselves. They do not require 
 such aid as rewards and punishments can supply. So well 
 was the writer satisfied with his own aesthetic and optimistic 
 
30 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 views, that he had no wish to explore either the depth of 
 man's fall or the height of divine mercy. His thoughts 
 say rather, dreams were those of hopeful, ideal youth. 
 Had he lived some few years longer, he might have known 
 more of sorrow, and more of truth. He has been classed 
 with the deists of his time ; but theism is a name more 
 applicable to his doctrine, so far as it clearly relates to any 
 religious creed. 
 
 LORD BOLINGBROKE (1687-1751), the friend and teacher of 
 Alexander Pope, claims notice here, chiefly with regard to 
 his writings left in manuscript, which were edited by Mallet 
 in 1754. In these it appears, that the writer had for some 
 time clearly foreseen that Christianity must soon fall ; it ' 
 could not exist in the presence of spreading physical 
 science and philosophy ; or in other words, could not bear 
 the " fierce light " of reason. It might be expected that 
 the writer would go on to provide a substitute for the 
 falling creed ; but in fact this had been done already, as the 
 moral substance of his philosophy had appeared in the 
 " Essay on Man," published by Pope, in the course of the 
 years 1732-4. 
 
 POPE lived and died within the pale of the Roman Catholic 
 Church. Yet, during some years, while he lived at 
 Twickenham, he called Bolingbroke his " teacher," and 
 under his predominance the " Essay on Man " was written. 
 Though a satirist, Pope was at heart gentle, and capable of 
 a devoted friendship. In Bolingbroke he saw a great 
 philosopher, whose presence demanded a submission of 
 reason, as well as of faith. The poet's own faith was feeble, 
 not to say confused, as well it might be; for in his boyhood 
 he had studied ecclesiastical controversies so far that he 
 could " dispute, confute, change hands and still confute." 
 As a matter of taste, he rather liked a variety of opinions 
 on religion, and if he must have a patron saint, he would 
 choose Erasmus ! As to metaphysical science, he describes 
 his own progress as a going step by step with " my Lord 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 31 
 
 B./' who is thus addressed, in the apostrophe concluding 
 the " Essay on Man :" 
 
 " Come then, my friend ! my genius I come along ; 
 Oh, master of the poet, and the song . . . 
 Oh, while, along the stream of time, thy name 
 Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame . . . 
 Shall then this verse to future age pretend, 
 Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend ?" 
 
 Here the word " pretend " is equivalent to " show/' 
 or "prove/' and the fact to be proved is this that the 
 essay was written as an exposition of Bolingbroke's deism. 
 Further evidence is found in the indignation of Bolingbroke, 
 expressed when he learned the fact that his disciple had 
 died professing the faith in which he had been educated. It 
 should be remembered, that a more devoted son than Pope 
 never lived. His latest religious act was closely united with 
 the filial piety of his life. 
 
 In substance the deistic optimism of the "Essay" may be 
 ascribed to Bolingbroke, and it is no insult to the poet's 
 genius to say, that he did not clearly understand his own 
 philosophy. To make it seem Christian, all the perverse 
 learning of Bishop Warburton was required, and when he 
 had done it, the poet, delighted, wrote to say "You under- 
 stand my system better than I do myself." Accepting the 
 " Essay on Man/' then, as a medley for which Leibnitz and 
 Bolingbroke supplied the philosophy, while Pope made it 
 almost attractive, the work may be described as the best 
 positive result of English deism in the eighteenth century. 
 Pope supplied, no doubt, not only the charms of his verse, 
 the stiogs of his satire, and some outbursts of fine poetry, 
 but also many good ethical thoughts, and their apt illus- 
 trations. As regards its plan -that "system" which was 
 understood so well by Warburton the essay is but a piece 
 of patchwork. 
 
 The deeper scepticism of DAVID HUME (1711-76) belongs 
 rightly to the history of philosophy, and must be noticed in 
 a later chapter. It attacks the very basis of rationalism 
 
32 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 itself, though, its aid was at first made available in order to 
 destroy the evidence by which faith in miracles had been 
 defended. 
 
 Among the apologists whose writings belong to the 
 eighteenth century, the first to be noticed is JOSEPH BUTLER, 
 Bishop of Durham. Writing in 1736, he thus describes the 
 notions of religious belief that, in his own time, were so 
 widely spread in England : 
 
 " It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted by many 
 persons, that Christianity is not so much, as a subject of inquiry, but 
 that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly 
 they treat it as if, in the present age, this were an agreed point among 
 all people of discernment ; and nothing remained but to set it up as 
 a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were, by way of 
 reprisals, for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the 
 world." 
 
 BUTLER on one occasion suggested, as at least probable, 
 the notion that an intellectual and moral epidemic might 
 prevail throughout a large number of people, and for a 
 considerable time. The thought seemed to be prophetic ; 
 for soon afterwards there followed a rapid spread of deism 
 in France and Germany. It was hardly like the spread of a 
 doctrine, for neither reading nor thought were required to 
 make it popular. It might be said, the germs of unbelief 
 were floating in the air, and diffused themselves in private 
 houses, chapels, schools, nay strange to say in public 
 restaurants, so as to infect not only learning and literature, 
 but even daily conversation. In France and Germany, 
 discussions on questions that in heathendom would have 
 been held sacred, were not unfrequently associated with 
 the ordinary social excitements of eating and drinking. 
 Obviously a movement of this nature can hardly be defined 
 as purely intellectual. The so-called morals of popular 
 deism have been pedantically styled " eudaimonistic." They 
 were in fact earthly, egoistic, and mostly sensual ; and in 
 Germany the first heavy blow that fell on the leaders of 
 popular deism was not intellectual, but moral. It was a 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 33 
 
 stern appeal to conscience, in opposition to their sophistry 
 and sensualism. Our duty, said KANT, is not to do what we 
 like, or what we can prove (as you say) to be convenient on 
 the whole, or accordant with our own general welfare. Our 
 duty is to do what is right, though we must immediately 
 die for doing it. This the doctrine that cast down the 
 eudaimonism of the deists was the teaching of Kant in 
 1787, and in substance this same moral doctrine had been 
 anticipated by Bishop Butler in his sermons on " Human 
 Nature" sermons as well deserving notice as his more 
 celebrated book the " Analogy/' etc., which was published 
 in 1736. 
 
 One distinctive trait in the apologetic writings of this 
 thoughtful bishop deserves especial notice; for at once it 
 shows his courage and his good judgment. He does not 
 attempt to conceal the " mysteries " or the difficulties of the 
 Christian religion. This courage, which in ordinary times 
 would hardly be called an eminent virtue, was by force of 
 contrast made remarkable among the English apologists of 
 Butler's age. Of these writers several, by their coldness, 
 timidity and reserve to say nothing of their own unbelief 
 were not only made weak in defending their professed faith, 
 but also gave much aid and encouragement to the enemy. 
 " They might/' says a critic, " be likened to scared house- 
 holders, who attacked by midnight burglars first throw 
 out of the windows all their most valuable goods, and then 
 begin to scream out ' thieves !' and ' murder P ' To speak 
 more respectfully, they were, for the most part, erroneous in 
 their plan of defence. They went forth to meet the foe, 
 just in the spot where lay all the strength of his position. 
 If words seemingly pedantic were allowed, it might be said 
 these apologists often attacked the ' ' predicate/' in proposi- 
 tions where they should have shown that the character of 
 the assumed "subject" was fictitious. This was especially 
 the case as regards their treatment of the miracles recorded 
 in the four Gospels. Here, in the formal logic employed on 
 both sides of the controversy, the subject " miracles " was 
 
 3 
 
34 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 to a large extent placed in isolation, and then the predi- 
 cate, as asserted by the deistic writers, was of course 
 "incredible." But the true subject is one that cannot be 
 fairly represented by that one word " miracles/' when we 
 have to consider a special class of miracles. 
 
 The Christian apologist has to describe, and if possible to 
 define, the evidence afforded by certain events called miracu- 
 lous ; but first of all he must examine the historical basis of 
 the writings in which those events are recorded. In these 
 same writings, and in the closest union with accounts of 
 miracles, he finds, not only a series of ethical teachings, so 
 holy that their authority is clear as the sun at noonday, but 
 more ; he finds also the records of a life in which humanity 
 is indissolubly united with divinity. On the other side he 
 finds, arranged in opposition to all evidence founded on 
 miraculous narratives, the opinions of many men of science, 
 metaphysical writers, and others, who mostly accept the 
 ethical teaching of Christianity. The task of the Christian 
 advocate is obviously difficult, and it is right that he should 
 consider well the question, how far does his own Christian 
 reverence affect his disposition to accept the evidence of 
 miracles ? It is right, at the same time, that his opponent 
 should, first of all, allow the question to be fully and fairly 
 defined, so that the argument, intended to apply only to 
 records of which the character is altogether exceptional, 
 may not be misrepresented, or made to appear as a plea in 
 favour of general credulity. 
 
 It is not intended that anything generally disrespectful 
 should be said of the English apologists, whose names 
 include those of Locke, Addison, Lardner, Foster, Leland, 
 and Paley. Their writings, however, tended more or less 
 to isolate and make prominent the evidences that, as treated 
 by their followers, were made chiefly historical. The isola- 
 tion in which evidences of this class were too often placed, 
 left them more exposed to the attacks of the deistic writers. 
 Let these evidences be established it was said, or implied 
 then your religion must remain firm; but if these be 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 35 
 
 found invalid the religion must fall. The challenge thus 
 held out by the deists was often accepted by the apologists. 
 It was virtually this : in your evidence, let everything 
 historical, including all facts called miraculous,, be established, 
 as surely as the fact that " Caesar was assassinated " has 
 been established, then we will accept your religion, and 
 simply because we shall then be compelled to believe it. 
 The question, therefore, was mostly reduced to one respect- 
 ing various degrees of historical probability. On some 
 points the evidence adduced by the apologists was irre- 
 sistible ; on other points it was less powerful. And similar 
 gradations in the force of evidence are found on the side of 
 the deists and their followers. In one book, for example, 
 where the general aim is to reject miracles, the writer begins 
 by admitting the reality of one miracle, and ends by con- 
 fessing that he has great difficulty in showing how far, and 
 on what grounds, he must deny the fact of the resurrection. 
 Yet he does deny it, and for certain reasons of which he 
 gives no clear account. In another book, the writer, who 
 sets aside, as nnauthentic, the whole of St. John's Gospel, 
 finds a great difficulty both in accepting and in rejecting the 
 fact of the resurrection. He finds himself, therefore, com- 
 pelled to doubt, and at the same time entertains serious 
 doubts respecting the grounds of his own scepticism. 
 
 Instances of the same kind might easily be multiplied ; 
 but enough has been said to show what has been the basis 
 or common ground assumed in many disputes. The whole 
 question of accepting or rejecting Christianity has, in many 
 arguments, been made dependent on the historical evidence 
 of one isolated fact. It is to this way of reasoning that 
 LESSING alludes where he says : " When will you s.ee your 
 error, in thus hanging the interests of a whole eternity 
 upon one fibre in a spider's web ?" This exclamation repre- 
 sents the views of several writers, more orthodox than 
 Lessing, but like him offended by the exclusive or isolating 
 way of studying historical evidences. 
 
 PHILIP SKELTON who, near the middle of the eighteenth 
 
 3 * 
 
36 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 century, wrote against English deism, also wrote against 
 the views of several Christian apologists. They assumed, 
 he said, in their own reasonings, certain deistic principles, 
 and diminished both the mysteries and the morals of 
 Christianity. To the same effect MEINIGEN, who translated 
 Locke's work, the " Keasonableness of Christianity" (1695) 
 wrote thus in 1733: 
 
 " This especially is the error of the English apologists : they con- 
 found with the wisdom of God the wisdom of this world. For 
 example, Locke, in his essay, lessens the number of our articles of 
 faith and, by making a mixture of light and darkness, seeks to please 
 men of all confessions." 
 
 PFAFF Chancellor at Tubingen, 1750 classed Locke's 
 defence of Christianity with the writings of John Toland 
 and other deists. ERNESTI, the philologist, writing in 1759, 
 thus described the tendencies of several English writers 
 whom Pfaff had classed with the apologists : 
 
 " The worthy Chancellor," says he, " while deploring the effect of 
 so many English deistic books, translated and read in our land, has 
 consoled himself with the thought, that the writings of several English 
 apologists are also translated and widely read. This, however, is but 
 a scant consolation. For the most part, these apologists will do no 
 harm to the deists. For one example, Taylor, in one of his anti- 
 deistic books so called says much of the Reign of God ; but when 
 he goes on to describe the advantages of this reign, as proclaimed in 
 the Gospel, he shows us nothing better than an improved edition of 
 natural religion. Deists understand little of their own interests, if it 
 is supposed that they can be injured by any books of this class." 
 
 These quotations, which might easily be multiplied, are 
 enough to indicate the chief defect of the apologists : they 
 did not efficiently represent the claims of their own religion ; 
 but granted too much of the claims asserted in favour of 
 reason and natural theology. If the Christian religion is to 
 be accepted as a revelation of God's own nature and his 
 will, it follows that no other revelation can be required. 
 It is finally authoritative, as a divine act, against which all 
 opposition must be vain. 
 
CHAPTEE II. DEISM. 37 
 
 If the Christian religion is not to be thus accepted, ifc 
 may be fairly supposed that no divine revelation has been, 
 or will be made, for the benefit of mankind. We are left, 
 therefore, to be guided by our own reason, or by " the light 
 of nature." Still we are not left in the dark, if unaided 
 reason has already established such a creed as certain 
 advanced deists have held: that One God omniscient, 
 omnipotent, and perfectly benevolent exists ; that his will, 
 so far as our duties are concerned, is clearly written in our 
 conscience, and that he has given us the power to obey, and 
 by so doing, make sure our own highest happiness. Grant- 
 ing that all this is now clearly known, and also that no 
 supernatural revelation has ever been made, then it must 
 follow clearly, that unaided human reason has already raised 
 us to a high degree of intellectual and moral dignity. But 
 the supposition on which this assertion rests must be closely 
 examined. 
 
 There is found in the New Testament (Rom. i. 20-22) 
 teaching to the effect, that where no other revelation is 
 known, God's existence, power, and authority are made 
 known by means of things created; but St. Paul, in the 
 passage indicated, speaks of One whose will has been 
 revealed not alone in nature, but more clearly in the Person 
 of Christ. The apostle says nothing that can be quoted in 
 favour of an alleged, actual, sufficiency of reason : on the con- 
 trary he goes on to assert the wilful failure of human reason 
 and a consequent debasement of human nature. He then 
 shows the need of such a revelation as he has to declare. 
 
 Yet it is assumed by some writers, that Christianity and 
 modern deism agree to a large extent, because they both 
 say, There is One God, and ascribe to Him the same attri- 
 butes ; but can it be logically maintained, that they are here 
 speaking of one and the same Subject ? Christianity speaks 
 of One who has distinctly revealed his own character and 
 will, with light of evidence infinitely clearer than the light 
 of self-debased reason. Deism, on the contrary, speaks of 
 One who has never so revealed Himself, but who is never- 
 
38 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 theless known, by the light of reason, as One existing in 
 perfect independence, and possessing omniscience, omnipo- 
 tence perfect benevolence. The two notions of absolute 
 benevolence and profound reserve are thus held together in 
 modern deism, as if the compound notion so formed implied 
 no self-contradiction. 
 
 The most obvious way of escape from the difficulty sug- 
 gested, is to say that reason, or (( the light of nature/' is 
 sufficient for man's guidance, and therefore takes the place 
 ascribed to revelation. Here is the proposition especially 
 requiring analysis, in order to show the exact point where 
 deistic and Christian views diverge, respecting the compara- 
 tive claims of reason and revelation; and it is here that our 
 apologists rendered inefficient services. On one side they 
 too freely granted some claims preferred in behalf of 
 unaided human reason ; on the other, they too timidly 
 asserted the claims of their own faith. When so much was 
 told of all that reason had done for the moral elevation of 
 men, the questions "Where" and "When" should have 
 been been urged more pertinaciously. For example : 
 Where and when did reason first proclaim, for the benefit 
 of the whole human race, that men and women, all over 
 the world, are all equal and free, as the children of One 
 Father ? And when did reason first find out how that 
 proclamation could be carried into effect, so as not to 
 destroy, but to build up and sanctify human society ? 
 All this remains a problem too difficult to be encountered 
 by reason, even in the present enlightened age, though 
 its perfect solution was revealed almost two thousand years 
 ago. 
 
 To conclude this chapter one chief characteristic of 
 English deism must be especially noticed, because it served 
 to encourage the German rationalism and popular philosophy 
 of which some account is to be given. The deism of the 
 eighteenth century was mostly Utopian. 
 
 It was assumed by the earlier deistic writers, that man 
 has an aspiration toward a knowledge of God ; and that this 
 
CHAPTER II. DEISM. 39 
 
 motive, guided only by experience and reason, and unas- 
 sisted by a positive, supernatural revelation, can lead man 
 on to a knowledge of all the truth required to insure his 
 highest spiritual and material welfare; to a knowledge of 
 his own immortality ; his true destination ; and the duties 
 belonging to his present and future existence. In brief, 
 then, were the Christian religion destroyed, there would 
 not, therefore, be left for us a world without faith and hope, 
 or a moral chaos ; but on the contrary, a world still illu- 
 mined by the light of natural and rational religion ! This 
 would surely follow, as the result of man's own developed 
 reason, and as soon as the obstacles presented by supersti- 
 tion could be removed out of the way. This was the creed 
 of TINDAI/S natural religion a faith "as old as the crea- 
 tion" boldly preached in England, and soon afterwards 
 heartily accepted in Germany. It might have been more 
 boldly challenged by its opponents, the English apologists ; 
 but that is not the point to be noticed here. We rather 
 notice the fact, that the new faith now proclaimed was 
 Utopian, bold, cheerful, hopeful, and thus presented itself 
 as a welcome contrast when set against the forms and 
 institutions in which the true, social, and beneficent 
 character of our Christian faith was defectively represented. 
 Let all that is fair and true be said of German " enlighten- 
 ment " in the eighteenth century ; otherwise the movement 
 will never be understood. It was remarkably hopeful, and 
 had some good ends in view ; but it was based in one deep 
 error a false conception of human nature. The good 
 results of Christian labours and sacrifices continued 
 throughout several centuries were now simply claimed as 
 innate virtues belonging to human nature itself. All that 
 was further required was more extensive freedom, attended 
 with general secular education, in order that those innate 
 virtues might unfold themselves as flowers in spring-time, 
 and so make a perfect paradise of this world ! 
 
 These hopes, entertained by so many in the eighteenth 
 century, are not mentioned now to suggest a satiric smile, 
 
40 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 but to throw light on the shallow deism of that time. It 
 was surely not altogether a gloomy creed ; for it was partly 
 associated with thoughts that rightly belong to Christianity, 
 and with hopes that can never be realized without the aid 
 of our Christian faith. 
 
 In our own times, unbelief assumes a less cheerful aspect, 
 and even among those who are more or less sceptical, there 
 is felt some lingering respect for our religion ; but the 
 respect is too often attended by the thought " either this, 
 or atheism." 
 
 Now in Germany (1750-80) there was rarely a thought of 
 such an alternative. The "popular philosophy" of that 
 time had no fear of atheism or of social revolution. These 
 facts will serve, in a large measure to make clear the rapid 
 spread and the popularity of deism in Germany. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 RATIONALISM. 
 
 BEFORE the year 1750, English deism was largely imported 
 into France and Germany. During the remainder of the 
 century, the doctrine apparently fell into neglect in England 
 why, one can hardly tell concisely. At the same time, 
 while deism was dying, the vigorous movement called 
 Wesleyan Methodism, begun by the brothers John and 
 Charles Wesley, was rapidly spreading itself in England. 
 This was an earnest appeal to the people, not to the com- 
 paratively small class of readers to whom deistic books had 
 been mostly addressed. The strength of the movement, 
 and its correspondent expansion, had their source in a 
 restoration a revival of that tenet which Arianism and 
 deism had endeavoured to destroy. 
 
 In France deism was very rapidly spread by Voltaire, 
 who asserted mostly, though not without some wavering, il 
 y a un etre supreme, and also again not firmly the soul's 
 immortality. His contemporary Condillac said in substance 
 what others soon said formally, that man is a mere animal. 
 For man thus defined Helvetius prepared a suitable code of 
 morals, all founded on self-love. Diderot, a man of larger 
 mind, could see the vast difficulty of putting into a systematic 
 form the facts of consciousness ; he therefore wavered, and 
 after asserting deism, inclined more and more to the notions 
 usually collected under the term " pantheism" a term so 
 often connected with confusion of thought, that it is 
 employed unwillingly here, as in some other places. It is, 
 perhaps, better to say, that Diderot's views gradually 
 assumed more and more a negative aspect toward the 
 
42 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 assertion of God's existence and the souFs immortality. La 
 Mettrie the friend of Frederick II. was a materialist, and 
 his doctrine was developed more largely in the book entitled 
 " Systeme de la Nature" (1770), most probably written by 
 Holbach. This was. an assertion of atheism and materialism. 
 The earlier deism of Rousseau widely accepted in Germany 
 will be noticed in some later pages. 
 
 In Germany, among the more frivolous classes of readers 
 including the C^urt and the Aristocracy French books 
 were the chief means of spreading low, sensual notions of 
 morals and a general contempt of all religion. These results 
 of French influence are mostly included when the German 
 deism of the eighteenth century is vaguely described; but 
 such confusion does not fairly represent the facts of the 
 case, /fererman deism arose, first of all, out of the natural 
 decay of Lutheran orthodoxy; and the transition was 
 greatly aided by the importation of English literature, 
 including almost the whole literature of deism. And 
 though the fact may seem a paradox, it should be especially 
 noticed, that in Germany deism was not only more deeply 
 studied, but also more clearly understood, than in England. 
 The English literature of deism aided by other causes 
 led to the revolution of doctrine that took place (1750-1800) 
 in the, universities of Prussia, as well as in those of Altdorf, 
 Erlangen, Giessen, Helmstadt, and Jena. Nevertheless, the 
 movement ought to be viewed, in the first place, as the 
 natural one might say logical result of an internal decay 
 in Lutheran orthodoxy. 
 
 In every great religious movement, the leading principle 
 is at once subjective and objective ; in other words, it 
 appeals to a supposed moral want in man, and then brings 
 forward something positive, intended to meet that want. 
 This is said in an abstract, or philosophical way, and without 
 reference to the historical claims of any creed or doctrine. 
 Whatever the creed, there must be found within it a grasp, 
 a hold on human nature. This grasp is everywhere the 
 sign of vitality and power. 
 
CHAPTER III. EATIONALISM. 43 
 
 It is interesting to observe sequences in history, which 
 possibly may lead at last to a knowledge of their laws. 
 If there is a law already well known, it is this : that where j 
 one of the chief factors in any movement, religious or poli- 
 tical, is long neglected, it is likely to appear in a separate I 
 form, and to set up a life of its own. This rule was never * 
 more clearly exemplified than in the apparently sudden 
 movement of rationalism, following a time when Lutheran 
 orthodoxy had bound so fast the souls of men, that many 
 were made secret rebels. The facts of the case were not 
 seen immediately, or in the shape of formal divisions ; in 
 other words, new sects did not arise. This was prevented 
 by the territorial system of church government, which, to a 
 very large extent, left in the hands of princes, or other 
 secular rulers, the power of suppressing doctrines called 
 heterodox. Under such a government it is obvious that 
 great changes might take place within the pale of a confes- 
 sion, while it remained externally quiet or undivided. This 
 was, indeed, the fact as regards Lutheranism at the opening 
 of the eighteenth century. The claims of individual 
 thought and feeling, formerly conceded, were now virtually 
 denied. A great decline had taken place in the leading 
 principle of the confession. This principle at once sub- 
 jective and objective had for its two sides personal faith 
 and scriptural authority. But gradually the faith, at first 
 defined as personal (therefore " mystic," in the strict sense 
 of the term) was changed in definition, and made identical 
 with faith in the authority of Scripture. For the historical 
 fact thus briefly stated, evidences are too numerous to be 
 noticed here. 
 
 As subordinate to this main cause of decay, one attendant 
 cause the spread of scientific books may be noticed. So 
 charmed were certain students by the results of modern 
 astronomy, that they endeavoured to make the Bible itself 
 Copernican, while others so far accepted modern notions 
 respecting a plurality of inhabited worlds, that their utterly 
 unknown inhabitants were cited among scientific evidences 
 
44 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 against orthodoxy. On the other hand, it was granted 
 by the orthodox that all the evidences of religion must be 
 presented in a purely intellectual form; and professors of 
 theology were, therefore, proud of their discovery when 
 they found out the fact, that Wolff's mechanical philosophy 
 which could prove anything not self-contradictory might 
 be employed as a means of " demonstration" in Christian 
 theology. 
 
 There remains to be noticed another subordinate cause of 
 decay, and of this the name may, for a moment, excite sur- 
 prise Pietism, as spread first by Spener and his followers, 
 and later among the United Brethren. In England the 
 age of deism preceded the rise of Methodism : in Germany 
 the order was reversed, Pietism preceded rationalism, and 
 the controversy excited by Spener and his followers served 
 partly to prepare the way for rationalism. The same obser- 
 vation applies to certain disputes and persecutions, excited 
 by the later pietistic movement led on by Count Zinzendorf . 
 In each case the intention of the pietists was clearly opposed 
 to rationalism ; their aim was to change, not so much the 
 tenets of orthodoxy, as its whole tone and character which, 
 as they said truly, had been changed into an intellectual 
 system of dogmas, and made cold, hard, and dry. They 
 were partly successful, here and there, in carrying their 
 own intention into practice, and doubtless their movement 
 served to delay for a time the open appearance of rational- 
 ism ; nevertheless it remains true, that the enmities and 
 controversies of their time were circumstances favourable 
 to the spread of unbelief. For one part of the evidence 
 that could be adduced, a reference may be given to the 
 autobiography of SEMLER the coryphaeus of the rational- 
 ists. He was educated among the pietists at Halle, where 
 soon afterwards his great learning was mostly devoted to 
 the work of spreading doubt on everything excepting 
 solely his own religion which, as he often said, was 
 " private/' 
 
 The reign of Frederick II was called "the age of 
 
CHAPTEE III. EATIONALISM. 45 
 
 enlightenment" Aufklwrung, more literally trans! 
 a f f clearing-up," such as sometimes takes place at noon, 
 after a cloudy morning. The age of positive religion had 
 passed away, it was said, and reason must now be supreme 
 in all things. In the earlier years of this reign, a quiet 
 orthodoxy was still maintained among the professors in 
 several universities. One fair example of this class was 
 MOSHEIM (1649-1755) the church historian and elegant 
 stylist, who wrote, in Latin, one of the fifty-four books and 
 tracts published before 1760 in order to refute Toland's 
 book against mysteries. Another eminent professor was 
 BAUMGAETEN (1706-57) who was esteemed orthodox. It was 
 noticed, however, that his library contained an almost com- 
 plete series of English deistic books. MICHAELIS, the 
 orientalist of Gottingen, was also classed with the orthodox 
 of his time. In an earlier day he would not have escaped 
 censure, had he published then such a passage as the follow- 
 ing, written in 1760: " Respecting the testimonium 
 Sviritus Sancti, I have never understood anything more 
 than such evidence as the Bible affords of its own divine 
 origin." He here refers only to such evidence as is sup- 
 plied by recorded miracles. 
 
 EENESTI, another orthodox professor, contended especially 
 for a purely grammatical interpretation of Scripture. It 
 may be added, that he accepted LOCKE as a guide to the 
 right method of expounding St. Paul's epistles. 
 
 Next to the orthodox may be named three eminent 
 preachers, as examples of the class of men called moderate 
 rationalists. They contended that the whole value of 
 religion is found in the guidance it affords for the conduct 
 of practical life; and their morals were mainly utilitarian. 
 SACK (1703-86) was Court Chaplain at Berlin, and was a 
 diligent reader of the English deistic books written by 
 Toland, Collins, and Morgan. Another student and 
 preacher of the same class was SPALDING (1714-1804) who, 
 in his autobiography, tells us how first his faith received a 
 violent shock. He was present, it seems, when certain 
 
46 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 professors of theology were rather timidly discussing the 
 question, how they might best confront the attacks made 
 by English deists. Spalding was especially an admirer 
 of Shaftesbury's writings, and weakly imitated his 
 style. JERUSALEM (] 709-89) was a moralist and moderate 
 rationalist, highly esteemed as a preacher. He had 
 passed three years in England, and there had studied 
 the writings of the deists, and of their opponents, the 
 apologists. 
 
 Next to these representatives of a moderated rationalism 
 must be named Reimarus, who utterly rejected as a fraud 
 the whole of positive Christianity. HERMANN SAMUEL 
 REIMARUS, born at Hamburg (1694), studied at Jena 
 (1714-16), travelled in Belgium and England (1720-21), 
 and in 1727 was appointed Professor of Hebrew (later of 
 mathematics) in the Gymnasium of his native place. He 
 was a man of varied attainments, and his favourite studies 
 were natural history and physico-theology. Of the writings 
 published in his life-time the chief are two treatises, one on 
 the truths of natural religion, the other on the instincts of 
 animals. In our own day, unbelief is deeper and darker 
 than in the time when Reimarus, feeling no need of any 
 revelation, could establish his own doctrine of the soul's 
 immortality on such observations as the following : 
 
 " It is as natural in us to look forward beyond this world, as it is 
 in the lower animals to remain satisfied with their present life. Their 
 nature is confined within certain bounds ; our own is distinguished by 
 its capacity of continual development ; and a desire for such develop- 
 ment has been planted in us by our Creator. 
 
 " Now where do we find instincts falsified in the plan of nature ? 
 "Where do we see an instance of a creature endowed with an instinct 
 craving a certain kind of food in a world where no such food can be 
 found ? Are the swallows deceived by their instinct when they fly 
 away from clouds and storms to find a warmer country ? Do the}'- 
 not find a milder climate beyond the water ? When the May-flies 
 and other aquatic insects leave their husks, expand their wings, and 
 soar from the water into the air, do they not find an atmosphere fitted 
 to sustain them in a new stage of life ? Certainly. The voice of 
 nature does not utter false prophecies. It is the call, tke invitation 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 47 
 
 of the Creator addressed to his creatures. And if this is true with 
 regard to the impulses of physical life, why should it not be true with 
 regard to the superior instincts of the human soul?" 
 
 Confidence in such reasonings as these was the charac- 
 teristic of popular philosophers in the eighteenth century. 
 For them history, or any other external authority, could 
 hardly be more than an echo of a verdict pronounced by 
 reason. They were not altogether negative in their aims ; 
 the tenets which they held as true such as the existence of 
 God and the immortality of the soul were held firmly ; but 
 several of their expositions of natural theology were shallow 
 and optimistic; they neither looked on the dark side of 
 nature, nor tested the logic on which the physico-theological 
 arguments were founded. Consequently Reimarus, now 
 remembered as the writer of a most destructive book, was 
 in his own day accepted as an eminent moralist and religious 
 teacher; and after his death (1768) his arguments for God's 
 existence and the soul's immortality were recommended as 
 antidotes to the spread of French materialism. The deism 
 of Reimarus was grounded on careful studies of English 
 authors. His moral teaching utilitarian, otherwise called 
 eudaimonistic was like that spread by the school of 
 " popular philosophers/' and therefore requires no especial 
 notice in this place. The fact is, that his positive services 
 have long ago passed away, and his name is now associated 
 only with his secret and resolute assault on the history and 
 the doctrines of Christianity. He attended the religious 
 services of his confession, maintained throughout his life a 
 good moral character, won for himself a fair reputation by 
 his writings on natural theology, and was esteemed for his 
 services as a professor; but the work to which his most 
 earnest studies were devoted was a book intended for 
 posthumous publication, and entitled: "An Apology, or 
 Defence, for Eational Worshippers of God." The task of 
 writing this book from time to time enlarged, amended, 
 or partly rewritten was begun as early as the year 1744, 
 and was completed in 1767. The writer's intention was 
 
48 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 that, for some years longer, the whole work should remain 
 a manuscript, to be published in a coming time, still more 
 enlightened than his own age. Its contents will be noticed 
 in a following chapter. 
 
 The "Apology" of Reimarus remaining in manuscript 
 some thirty years had of course no effect on the early 
 progress of German rationalism. At first its chief charac- 
 teristic was a free historical criticism not a total rejection 
 of the Scriptures. Whatever in history or in doctrine 
 was found not to accord well with common results of human 
 experience, was rejected or explained away. 
 
 The true leader of the rationalists was SEMLER, a man 
 whose character was a compound not easily described. 
 Something like it may, however, be indicated by means of 
 contrast. There is a class of men including a rather large 
 proportionate number of the great and the good whose 
 minds are at once expansive and sympathetic. Though 
 varying widely in their creeds and opinions, they have all 
 one common trait. Alike in their faith as in their theory, 
 they desire union with the minds of other men. For the 
 sake of union, they are ready to sacrifice almost everything 
 but sincerity. In religion, they especially long to find 
 some common basis a place of rest a home, where 
 all who are scattered in the wilderness of this world may 
 meet together. Accordingly, these pacific men do not 
 like the kindling of strife, nor the suggestion of doubt. 
 Where some high principle or vital question does not 
 demand assertion or investigation, they would let minor his- 
 torical queries have the repose that suits their subordinate 
 interest. When men who love peace find themselves com- 
 pelled to disturb the repose of a faith long cherished, 
 the duty must be painful. Semler was a man of 
 another class. To destroy faith in historical Chris- 
 tianity, and veneration for the Early Church, was a task 
 undertaken by him, if not with pleasure, with the rude 
 indifference shown by a labourer of the lowest caste, while 
 engaged in his work of pulling down old buildings. This 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 49 
 
 was the kind of work to which Semler devoted the resources 
 of his enormous reading, and the untiring industry of his 
 long career. For forty years he held the post of Professor 
 of Theology at Halle, whence the influence of his teaching 
 was widely spread. Of his one hundred and seventy books 
 and tracts, published during his life-time, few are read now; 
 but their results have been largely distributed through the 
 works of other writers. The story of his life, written by 
 himself, fairly displays his character. 
 
 JOHANN SALOMO SEMLER (1725-91) was educated among 
 the Pietists at Halle. Here his omnivorous taste for reading 
 found ample supplies in the private library of Prof. Baum- 
 garten, whose collection of books written by English deists 
 was almost complete. Young Semler here rebelled secretly 
 against Pietism, and soon made himself master of the 
 principles maintained by the deists. His early course of 
 reading led him to the conclusion, that religion should be 
 viewed as a private affair existing toto ccelo apart from all 
 theological tenets, and all ecclesiastical institutions. In 
 religion, says Semler, no two men can ever think alike. 
 Each has for his guide his own conscience, aided by his own 
 interpretation of Scripture, and so comes to results which 
 another man, though trained in the same Church, cannot 
 apprehend, and though equally pious, can neither under- 
 stand nor believe. On the other hand, forms of church 
 government, and theological systems are matters of local 
 and temporal interest, and should be left subject to the 
 control of civil authority. The Bible is for the most part 
 only a republication of natural religion, yet it contains some 
 few tenets that can be rightly accepted only by an inspired 
 faith fides divina. Our one sure evidence that the Bible 
 contains divine teaching is found in the simple fact, that its 
 perusal tends to our edification. These are the only clear 
 lines of demarcation drawn by Semler between his own 
 principles and those held by later critics who were more 
 destructive than himself, though they were indeed his 
 
 4 
 
50 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 own pupils. They left nothing objective remaining ; while 
 they despised his subjective piety. 
 
 Apart from the few general notions already stated, there 
 is found in Sender's writings little that is clear and posi- 
 tive ; nothing in which soul or mind can find rest. The 
 reader finds himself in a chaos thohu va-buhu, as Prof. 
 Tholuck observes where iravra pel; all is in everlasting 
 flux. As Semler often says, " nothing is so remarkable as 
 this endless diversity of opinions/ 1 But even here he is 
 not disturbed; the contention of the elements, the gales 
 blowing at once from all the four quarters, do not shake the 
 repose of his " private religion." He rules still if such a 
 paradox may be allowed sole anarch in the chaos he has 
 discovered. 
 
 He finds chaotic elements in the New Testament, as in 
 the Old. It is not surprising when we are told that the 
 story of Samson is " a myth/' The assertion, that many 
 passages of Scripture have especially a local and temporal 
 interest cannot be fairly gainsaid on the whole ; but among 
 Sernler's extensive applications of this principle, some are 
 indeed surprising. For example, we are told, that 
 St. Paul's own teaching respecting marriage was accommo- 
 dated, or made to suit certain " Jewish prejudices in favour 
 of celibacy." Among the books cast out of the canon 
 are the following : Ruth, Esra, Nehemiah, Esther, the two 
 books of Chronicles, and the Apocalypse ; others are left in 
 a doubtful position, and of the Synoptic Gospels many 
 parts, it is said, have nothing more than a local and tem- 
 poral interest; in other words, they are addressed to the 
 Jews of the first century, and not to modern Christians. 
 As one concise example of Semler's haste and self-confi- 
 dence in treating difficult passages, the text of Roin. viii. 20 
 may be noticed. Here he makes KTLCTIS a collective term, 
 denoting heathens who worship idols; and the vTrordgas, 
 who compels them so to worship, is Nero ! This error is, 
 however, unimportant when compared with the main 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 51 
 
 characteristic of Sender's criticism. As he goes on, he 
 casts aside as hardly worth notice all passages serving, as he 
 says, only to give expression to ' ' small local ideas." Of 
 such passages he makes at last a very large class, and 
 among them are found those relating to "the Kingdom of 
 Heaven." Of the critical writings in which Sender's 
 learning is especially made apparent his " Treatise on the 
 Canon of Scripture" (1750) may be named. In this book 
 the notion was first suggested, that the Early Church 
 consisted for a time of two parties, one following Peter, the 
 other Paul. This is the germ of a theory which in our 
 time has been largely developed by F. BAUR. 
 
 If possible, Sender's treatment of early ecclesiastical 
 history is even more destructive than his biblical criticism. 
 He has no love of union and order. The thought, that a 
 spiritual faith is not necessarily destructive of self-mani- 
 festation, does not belong to his "private religion." He 
 sees despotism where others find order; or he shows us 
 how apparent order serves but to mask endless dis- 
 sensions of belief. The Christian Church of the first two 
 centuries had been treated with respect, even by avowed 
 deists, and in Sender's own time was still described by 
 Protestants as an ideal union of practical devotion and 
 doctrinal purity. But here again he finds nothing better 
 than a chaos of dissentient opinions and tendencies, and 
 once more he finds reasons for some further repetition of 
 his favourite axiom no two men can have the same religion. 
 With this conclusion he rests satisfied, after all his researches 
 in ecclesiastical history. This, like theology, is a study for 
 professors. The results of their researches afford occupation 
 and amusement for inquisitive minds ; but have no connec- 
 tion with religion, which is a strictly private affair. In 
 Semler's own case, the clearest part of his piety was his 
 recognition of a particular Providence directing the course 
 of his own life. " None can tell/' said he, " what I feel, 
 when I recall to mind the many benefits I have received." 
 Scarcely could it occur to a mind so contracted, that a man 
 
 4 * 
 
52 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 less fortunate might require something deeper and larger 
 than this personal piety for prosperous men. 
 
 Lessing was, of course, offended by Semler's want of 
 clearness, and addressed to him the question never answered 
 " Where does your theology end, and your religion 
 begin ?" The same question was well put by Zopf-Schulz, 
 an avowed deist and Lutheran pastor, who gained some 
 notoriety by his courage and his plainness of speech. His 
 chief aim was to show that " morality and religion are as 
 far distant from each other as heaven and earth. " He then 
 proceeded to show that religion even Semler' s minimum 
 must lead on to theology, which, as Semler had shown, was 
 useless. Hence he concluded that morality alone was man's 
 proper study. Zopf-Schulz, the avowed deist and bold 
 writer, was silenced : Semler, enjoying an intensely sub- 
 jective and domestic repose, went on lecturing and writing, 
 making of the Bible "a, waxen nose/' and destroying the 
 faith of thousands. Yet he denounced vehemently the 
 conduct of Lessing, when he edited some of the papers left 
 by Reimarus. So shut up in himself was Semler, that he 
 could not recognize his own image, when reflected from a 
 clear mirror. It is not clear that he was a conscious hypocrite, 
 even when he wrote against his own most prominent 
 disciple Dr. Bahrdt. Some account must next be given 
 of this disciple who in his time was called " a martyr." 
 
 KARL F. BAHRDT (1741-92) was a man who had the 
 coarseness of thought and feeling characteristic of his 
 teacher ; and like him he was especially endowed with an 
 energetic constitution and a sanguine temperament. To 
 these causes, left without religious control, must be ascribed 
 at once his sensual and licentious life and his audacious 
 irreverence. In his autobiography he gives a portraiture 
 of himself, that may be accepted as fair on the whole, when 
 one important chronological error has been corrected. 
 Licentious conduct preceded the "persecutions " so called 
 by which, as he tells us, he was driven into utter unbelief. 
 His first disgrace took place at Leipzig, where, about the 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 53 
 
 year 1768, he had gained by his eloquent preaching a 
 considerable popularity. It was not a charge of heterodoxy 
 that drove him away from Leipzig. Next he obtained an 
 appointment as Professor of Biblical Antiquities at Erfurt, 
 and soon afterwards, well recommended by two learned 
 professors, Semler and Ernesti the latter orthodox he 
 came to Giessen (1771), where he was still recognized as 
 Professor of Theology when he published (1772-5) his 
 notorious translation of the New Testament. The animad- 
 versions called forth by this book led Bahrdt to retire from 
 his post ; and for some years afterwards he was engaged in 
 an endeavour to establish a school for advanced students. 
 
 In 1779 he came to Halle, and his arrival was a cause of 
 much annoyance to Semler, who was still teaching there. 
 At Halle, under the tolerant government of Friederich II, 
 Bahrdt enjoyed perfect liberty, and lectured eloquently and 
 with much success on rhetoric, morals, philosophy, philology, 
 and any other subject that came in his way. Meanwhile 
 his pen was not idle ; of his one hundred and twenty-six 
 books and tracts, issued during his life-time, several were 
 written at Halle, among them his " Popular Letters on the 
 Bible " (1782) in which he largely expanded Sender's first 
 hint about myths, and suggested the theory accepted 
 afterwards by Strauss and others. Next followed the 
 "Letters for Truth-seeking Headers" (10 vols. 1784-6) of 
 which any further account is morally impossible. These 
 and other books, produced in the course of the ten years 
 1780-90, were sources of considerable gain : but nothing 
 could ever appease his insatiable thirst of money. The 
 cry was ever " more," until the patience of his friend and 
 protector Zedlitz Minister of Public Instruction at Berlin 
 was exhausted. He had written very kindly to Bahrdt, 
 reminding him of the main charge preferred against him : 
 "Your errors come from the heart, not from, the head, 
 they say ; but your own good sense will show you how best 
 that charge may be refuted by the correctness of your 
 practical life." 
 
54 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY* 
 
 Not long afterwards, Zedlitz was compelled to write thus 
 to Dr. Bahrdt : 
 
 " Your pertinacity torments me so, that at last in self-defence, I 
 must give you my own opinion respecting your rapacity. There is 
 not a single place under government or hardly one, from the post of 
 Master of the Horse to the Chair of Mathematics or Anatomy for 
 which you do not make application in your own behalf." 
 
 The next passage in the life of Bahrdt seems incredible. 
 He was not left in impoverished circumstances when, in 
 order to increase his income, he purchased a vineyard with 
 its adjoining tavern, situated near Halle, and here established 
 himself as a tavern-keeper. Here, during the last five 
 years of his life excepting one year's imprisonment he 
 displayed at once his versatility of talent, and his utter 
 want of morality. The tavern was made a school of 
 advanced profanity. His courses of Sunday Lectures, 
 attended by students, tradespeople, and military men of a 
 frivolous class, were especially successful. The quondam 
 Professor of Theology could here at will pass " from grave 
 to gay, from lively to severe," and could alternately move 
 his audience to tears and to laughter. Reports of his latest 
 jpsts and caricatures were spread abroad in the coffee- 
 houses and taverns of Halle and its neighbourhood. Sernler 
 was greatly annoyed, though he could not see clearly the 
 fact, that Bahrdt was his own pupil. 
 
 During the year 1 789, Bahrdt suffered imprisonment 
 for writing a satire against the new Minister of Public 
 Instruction, Wollner, whose edict against the spread of 
 unbelief had appeared in 1788. This attempted legislation 
 was remarkably ineffective, and was recalled when only one 
 pastor Zopf-Schulz, already named had been removed 
 from his office. For the remainder of his days, Bahrdt 
 lived and preached as before at his tavern, here again 
 displaying his versatile talents, and acting by turns as 
 clown, lecturer, or waiter, so as to make no inconsiderable 
 amount of money. And here he died, though not in poverty, 
 yet in extreme misery (1792). It is fair to add a few words 
 
CHAPTER III. EATIOXALISM. 55 
 
 taken from his autobiography, and giving his own account 
 of the ruling motive of his career. The fact that his first 
 disgrace had no relation to any religious question has 
 already been named : 
 
 " I firmly believe I should have remained orthodox ; should have 
 expended my talents in propping up the decayed old system ; and 
 might perhaps have given it a new coat of philosophical whitewash 
 if I had not been so spitefully persecuted by theologians. The fact 
 of the case was, that my great success in Leipzig, and the applause 
 I won there, excited their envy, and therefore they made my life 
 miserable at Erfurt. This first gave me a hatred of orthodoxy ; hence 
 arose my notion, that positive religion makes men persecutors, and 
 that their own creed must now be made to suffer in its turn. 
 
 " If they had left me still at rest enjoying a liberal salary, and 
 un vexed by scandal all might have been well. Instead of that, they 
 have left me conscious of my own talents, and my worth the pain 
 of seeing miserably ignorant men richly rewarded, while I am 
 battling with poverty. However, Providence has willed to make of 
 me the leader of a storming party against the theology that has so 
 long abused Europe. I have been hunted about by inquisitors until 
 at last my eyes are opened, and I see now my destiny for the 
 remainder of my life. It is to do all that is possible in order to 
 destroy the very basis of all persecution that basis is positive 
 religion." 
 
 The story of Dr. Bahrdt would not deserve repetition, if 
 his character were wholty exceptional ; but this is not the 
 case. His energy and vivacity were indeed rare ; but his 
 rapid progress in unbelief was typical, as regards the 
 extreme results of rationalism in his time. If we select 
 about twenty names representing the more prominent 
 deistic writers then living in Prussia and several neigh- 
 bouring states, some five might represent the older and 
 more cautious men, who could hardly see the end of the 
 way in which they were going; again some five names 
 would belong to men of extreme views, who might be 
 classified with Dr. Bahrdt ; but the remaining ten would be 
 those of the moderate men who were called "popular 
 philosophers." Their chief aim was to make their morality, 
 which was partly Christian, a substitute for revealed 
 
56 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 religion. If their names are to be given in order, showing 
 their relative degrees of importance, Nicolai must have the 
 first place, though he has been made an especial butt of 
 ridicule; chiefly on account of his dogmatism in the later 
 years of his life. He outlived his own reputation. 
 
 CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH NICOLAI (1733-1811) an industrious 
 writer, was also for a long time the editor and publisher of 
 the "Universal German Library/' a popular review that 
 served especially during the time 1765-92 as an encyclo- 
 paedia of rationalism, and was accepted as an authoritative 
 guide in all questions relating to religion and literature. 
 Its principles were deistic; but these were held as not 
 irreconcilable with a liberal interpretation of Christianity, 
 which was accepted as identical with natural religion. 
 Nicolai's review thus fairly represented the views of many 
 moderate men, who did not deny the possibility of a divine 
 revelation, but accepted the New Testament, at least as a 
 moral guide, while they held that its contents had been 
 partly falsified by tradition. 
 
 CHRISTIAN GARVE (1742-98) one of the best writers among 
 the popular philosophers, thus briefly describes the deistic 
 creed accepted by himself and his friends : 
 
 "The existence of God, as an intelligent and moral Being; tlie 
 immortality of the soul ; a belief that solely by means of our own 
 moral improvement we can rise to the enjoyment of God's favour, 
 and attain happiness in a life to come these are the main articles of 
 our creed." 
 
 MOSES MENDELSSOHN (1729-86) the friend of Nicolai and 
 of Lessing, was an Israelite who, by hard study and a firm 
 will, raised himself out of extreme poverty. He was 
 eminently "the philosopher" of the school, though his 
 speculations have no originality. His "Phaedon," a dia- 
 logue on immortality, has for its substance Plato's argument. 
 So far as he believed, Mendelssohn believed firmly. "With- 
 out faith in God/' says he ; " without trust in his providence, 
 and a firm belief in the immortality of my soul, all the good 
 things of this life would for me be contemptible; life itself 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 57 
 
 would be a journey to be made through stormy weather, 
 and without a hope of ever reaching my home." Lavater, 
 who longed to convert every man to his own Christian faith, 
 thought that nothing could be easier than the conversion of 
 Mendelssohn ; but this was a great mistake. The popular 
 philosopher held the few tenets preserved by rationalists 
 who still called themselves Christians ; but he was firm in 
 his adherence to Judaism. His most remarkable book 
 " Jerusalem" (1783) is an earnest protest against the union 
 of Church and State. 
 
 Among the friends of Nicolai and Mendelssohn, one of 
 the more eminent was JOHANN AUGUST EBERHARD (1739- 
 1809). He was a Lutheran pastor, but one far advanced in 
 the way of rationalism. In his chief book, a " New Apology 
 of Socrates," he maintains that morality is, alike in heathen 
 and in Christian lands, the only source of happiness. He 
 then goes on to refute the notion that virtuous heathen men 
 will be condemned on account of their doctrinal errors or 
 defects. Socrates was the model philosopher of whom 
 Eberhard and others of his school were never tired of 
 writing. Their clear and precise knowledge of his character 
 is remnrkable. 
 
 It would be easy to add many names of writers who 
 lived in Lessing's time, and held in common the few positive 
 tenets asserted by Garve : but their names belong chiefly to 
 literary history, and their writings are hardly noticeable as 
 regards originality. Their neatness and clearness of style 
 were qualities of much value in their time, and contributed 
 largely to spread among the people a love of reading. 
 
 Among the most zealous men of their time, those who 
 devoted themselves to the work of popular education must 
 not be left unnoticed. Their zeal was kindled by the 
 enthusiastic educational writings of Rousseau. Men, 
 women, and children are all good at heart; remove the 
 restrictions of a gloomy traditional faith ; give them the 
 simple tenets of a cheerful deistic and natural religion ; 
 
58 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and the sure result will be a shining forth of heaven in the 
 midst of this world. Such was the creed of the humani- 
 tarian deists. One of their leaders Campe placed beneath 
 his bust of Rousseau the inscription " my Saint ! " 
 
 It should be remembered that before the days of 
 triumphant deism much had been done for popular 
 education in Prussia. The best work was done by the 
 Pietists, under the patronage of Friederich Wilhelm I. 
 His educational grant was small, but was more than he 
 would expend on any luxury. His son, who liked the 
 society of the atheist La Mettrie, and could enjoy the most 
 audacious of his jokes, actually signed a decree prescribing 
 " heartfelt prayer " as the first duty of a teacher. Under 
 pietistic management, schools for the people had succeeded 
 well on the whole, especially at Halle and in the neighbour- 
 hood ; but there remained among Lutherans and Pietists 
 some old severities of routine. These were identified with 
 Christianity itself, as understood by Basedow and his 
 friends. He therefore demanded a general educational 
 reformation, of which the basis must be deism. His first 
 aim was to establish a model college, or " Philanthropic 
 Institute." To collect money for this purpose, he travelled 
 widely, and found many friends. Soon afterwards Dr. 
 Bahrdt and others were employed in the same way, and 
 schools planned in imitation of the new model were seen 
 rising in many places. At last deism was to produce some- 
 thing better than words. The work was planned, and to some 
 extent the reformatory design was good. But where was 
 the motive power to be found ? Whence was to come the 
 quiet endurance, the self-sacrifice required to make a good 
 schoolmaster ? Here, as in many projects of the eighteenth 
 century, the understanding was idolized, while the soul was 
 left without a true object of adoration. 
 
 In too many places it was soon discovered that work 
 demanding Christian strength had been rashly undertaken 
 by incapable men. Of all men in the world Basedow was 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 59 
 
 the last to make a good schoolmaster. His bad temper and 
 rudeness soon became proverbial. Goethe, who knew him 
 well, thus notices one of his leading traits : 
 
 11 He could not bear to see any man in a state of rest ; 
 but would utter some rude contradiction, or assert some 
 startling paradox, just in order to disturb us, whenever we 
 were disposed to be quiet." The restless, impatient temper 
 of Basedow led to the ruin of his Philanthropic Institute. 
 Other institutions of the same class were managed by men 
 in some respects more competent Campe, Pfeffel, Salz- 
 mann, Rochow but they were not on the whole successful. 
 On the other hand, considerable improvements were made 
 in juvenile or educational literature ; but its character was 
 mostly utilitarian, though partly sentimental. 
 
 There are critics of our own time who speak in a tone of 
 general contempt respecting the deism of the eighteenth 
 century, with its Pelagian philosophy, dogmatism, optimism, 
 and openly declared sensualism. Others regard the revolu- 
 tionary movement, of which the violence has for a time 
 subsided, as but part of a large disturbance of which the 
 effects remain, in the midst of which we are still living. 
 The questions thus suggested are too large to be considered 
 here ; but one remarkable fact, hardly likely to be called in 
 question, may be noticed. Among the higher educated 
 classes of France and Prussia in the last century it was 
 accepted almost as an axiom, that as intelligence was more 
 and more rapidly spreading, a decay of religion must take 
 place in a like ratio of speed. Among' the corresponding 
 classes of our own time the hope of the eighteenth century 
 has become the fear of the nineteenth. 
 
 Before this chapter is ended, something like a summary 
 may be expected ; but the task of showing briefly all the 
 destructive work of an antichristian century is one too vast 
 to be attempted. The beginning of error so far as it was 
 intellectual may however be indicated. This beginning 
 alike in England and in Germany was an almost exclusive 
 attention paid to studies of historical scriptural records. 
 
60 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 On one side the deists sought everywhere for difficulties 
 and contradictions ; on the other side, the apologists col- 
 lected all possible evidence in support of the historical 
 records contained in the New Testament. Their formal 
 logic may be shown thus : 
 
 a. This evidence represents the credibility of Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 b. This evidence is established. 
 
 c. The credibility of Christianity is established. 
 
 As to the first of the two premisses,, the deists and the 
 apologists were agreed. Not a word is said here respecting 
 the truth of their arguments on one side, or on the other 
 the point to be noticed is this : They were agreed as to 
 the general character of the evidence to be adduced in favour 
 of Christianity; they paid, on both sides, much attention 
 to the evidence so defined ; but, comparatively speaking, 
 they paid little attention to any other evidence. This is 
 the assertion of a very large historical fact, and if confirma- 
 tion can be required by any extensive reader, it will then 
 be requisite to refer to the contents of whole libraries 
 English and German including books of which many have 
 already been named in preceding passages. But for the 
 sake of brevity, one exception among English books may 
 be named ; for an exception so startling must surely go far 
 toward the establishment of a rule. 
 
 About the time when deism in England was dying a 
 natural death, or was leaving our shores, to haunt and dis- 
 turb the Universities of Prussia, there was published (1742) 
 a remarkable book written by a barrister Henry Dodwell 
 the younger and entitled " Christianity Not Founded on 
 Argument." In certain respects, its views were extreme, 
 or one-sidedc The chief propositions were such as these : 
 "It is declared by Christian teachers, that faith is a duty ; 
 it is known that our Christian faith has been readily 
 accepted by multitudes of men who have never had the 
 talent, time, and learning required for examination of histor- 
 ical evidences. Now either the faith of these multitudes 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 61 
 
 has been vain, and founded on no evidence, or there exists 
 prior evidence distinct from that set forth with so much 
 learning by our apologists ; and this prior evidence must 
 have the very character ascribed to the Author of our 
 Faith ; it must remain, as yesterday, to-day, and for ever 
 the same." 
 
 The writer goes on to appeal to such evidence as is at 
 once spiritual and realistic, mystic and historical ; but there 
 is nothing to be said here respecting the force of his appeal. 
 The point to be noticed is this : DodwelFs book called 
 forth two or three replies, but was slightly noticed in 
 England, as in Germany. Benson's te Reply" was translated 
 into German and published in 1761. Leland could not see 
 any force in the appeal ; indeed he could not understand it. 
 Singularly, its force was seen, or its meaning understood, 
 by one of the later deists Thomas Chubb who, in his book 
 entitled "The True Gospel of Christ" (1738) had asserted 
 that Christianity, regarded as a life, rather than as history or 
 doctrine, must be chiefly recommended by its obvious utility 
 as a support of good morals. This of course was not Dod- 
 welFs meaning. Chubb, the deist, was a man of clear, strong 
 common sense, and he could see the difference between 
 DodwelFs notions and his own. Meanwhile, Christian 
 apologists regarded DodwelFs book as hardly worthy of 
 much notice. His appeal to the faith of myriads was a 
 matter rather obscure, or one having little importance. 
 There were at least a few readers who thought the book 
 must be viewed as an ironical sneer against the faith of 
 ignorant people. 
 
 The facts given indicate the malady at the heart of 
 society that made formidable the later rationalism in Ger- 
 many. The malady was spiritual ; the mere outbreak was 
 intellectual. It was the eruptive stage of a disease that 
 had long been concealed during the stages of incubation. 
 There was in the heart a decay of faith, purity and love j 
 hence so much bewilderment in the understanding. The 
 
62 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 inevitable result was foreseen by Bishop BEVERTDGE, when 
 he wrote thus in his " Thoughts on Religion :'* 
 
 " I believe it is a thousand times easier for a worm, a fly, or any 
 other such despicable insect whatsoever, to understand the affairs of 
 men, than for the best of men, in a natural state, to apprehend the 
 things of GOD." 
 
 It is remarkable : this, written in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury, is exactly the thought suggested by Lessing, and 
 forcibly appealing to the minds of many intelligent men, 
 near the close of the eighteenth century, when the old 
 rationalism was drawing near the final stage of its destruc- 
 tive career; when Yenturini and others among Bahrdt's 
 followers issued their books, which contained neither proofs 
 of sound learning nor novelties in argument, but for readers 
 then too numerous were made attractive by new audacities 
 of blasphemy. This general reference to many of the later 
 deistic books published in Germany must suffice; or if a 
 word be added, it may be the following, borrowed from a 
 writer especially well acquainted with the deistic literature 
 of the eighteenth century : 
 
 " They [the rationalistic writers] went on to the end. The 
 Pelagian theologians of the time could say but little to show the need 
 of a revelation, while the rationalists demanded that every dogma 
 should be demonstrated as consonant with reason, or common sense. 
 A total rejection of revelation was the result. The idea that men 
 could require the aid of revelation was despised. The age, whose 
 morality at best was eudaimonism, could see no advantage in a 
 promised deliverance from the grasp of carnality. They did not feel 
 themselves prisoners. That the very Power by whom the world was 
 created should make manifest Himself, in order to save the world 
 from ruin this was a paradox for men who knew nothing of the ruin 
 assumed as real and historical. They had their own fixed negations, 
 and the chief was a denial of everything called supernatural j and 
 more, of everything that would now be called ideal, yet true. 
 Rational men must accept no evidence, save that which is real. . . . 
 So far did they go on in this way, that they lost utterly, at last, the 
 faculty of seeing anything holy and morally beautiful in the Person 
 of Christ. His grand idea of a Kingdom of God, to be established in 
 
CHAPTER III. RATIONALISM. 63 
 
 this world, they could not understand otherwise than by ascribing 
 even to Him such secular motives as were recognized in their own 
 sphere of thought. Consequently, the character of the Holy One 
 himself was attacked. He was accused as once before the High 
 Priest, so now before Reason's tribunal of ambition, self-seeking, and 
 falsehood ; and, as then, so now again He was found ' guilty.' 
 
 " The whole process of doubt, denial, rejection, was made complete. 
 Through all the descending stages of humiliation once passed through 
 in the course of actual life in this world the Person of Christ, in 
 idea, had now to pass again, in the minds of men. Once more He 
 was tried ; now at the bar of reason ; He was stripped of his glory ; 
 reason itself ascended the throne rightfully belonging to Him in His 
 Church ; once more He was numbered with sinners ; the sentence of 
 condemnation was pronounced against Him. What follows ? As of 
 old, the way of humiliation is made the road to victory, ascension, 
 glory a glory that will be brighter than that of his first appearance 
 in this world. After his death follows his resurrection." DORMER. 
 
CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 LESSING. 
 
 GOTTHOLD EPHKAIM LESSING, the son of a Lutheran pastor, 
 was born in 1729 at Kamenz, a small town in Saxony. His 
 studies commenced in a classical school at Meissen, and 
 were continued at Leipzig. He took his Magister degree at 
 Wittenberg in 1751. In the years 1753-60 he lived mostly 
 in Berlin, where he was associated in literary work with 
 Nicolai and Mendelssohn. In 1760-65 he was employed as 
 a secretary at Breslau, but found leisure to pursue his 
 studies, which were especially devoted to dramatic literature. 
 In 1767 he went to Hamburg, to assist in an endeavour to 
 establish there a national drama. The endeavour itself was 
 a failure, and its best result was his " Dramaturgie," a series 
 of critical papers, first published in the shape of a theatrical 
 journal. At Hamburg he became acquainted with Johann 
 Melchior Goetze, an orthodox Lutheran pastor of some 
 learning, who was surprised to find that a dramatic critic 
 could speak with intelligence on religious and ecclesiastical 
 questions. With Reimarus already named as the author 
 of a book now notorious Lessing, during the year 1767, 
 was but slightly acquainted. In the following year Reimarus 
 died, leaving a son and a daughter, to whose care was con- 
 fided the manuscript of the work on which the leisure of 
 twenty years or more had been expended. It was the most 
 elaborate of all the attacks made on the Bible in the course 
 of the eighteenth century. In the presence of Lessing, the 
 whole or a considerable part of the manuscript was read, 
 while its authorship was regarded as a secret never to be 
 divulged. To Lessing it was obvious that the agitation 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 65 
 
 which its publication must excite would be extreme. In its 
 extent of negation the book was like the well-known work 
 published by Strauss in 1835 ; but the plan was wholly 
 different. Instead of the series of myths supposed by 
 Strauss, deliberate imposition is supposed by Reimarus. 
 
 It seems probable that Elise Reimarus, the daughter, 
 confided to the care of Lessing the " Fragments," or selected 
 parts of the work, which he published in the course of the 
 years 1774-8. The secret of authorship was long preserved, 
 though the truth was now and then guessed. In 1814 
 J. A. H. Reimarus, the son, presented to the Library of 
 Gottingen a manuscript copy of the complete work, and 
 then first stated the fact that his father, Samuel Hermann 
 Reimarus (born 1694), was the author. Strauss published 
 in 1862 a very copious analysis of the entire work. 
 
 Of the fragments published by Lessing, the last, entitled 
 fc The Aim of Jesu and his Disciples," especially served to 
 excite controversy. The orthodox pastor Goetze of Hamburg, 
 who had formerly treated Lessing as a friend, was now one 
 of the first to censure his conduct in issuing the anonymous 
 "Fragments/ 5 This censure called forth Lessing's vindi- 
 catory letters collectively entitled " Anti-Goetze." These 
 and other results of the controversy are noticed here only in 
 their relation to the position which Lessing soon afterwards 
 assumed. " May we not, 5 ' he said in effect, " fairly con- 
 sider the historical difficulties shown by Reimarus, and yet 
 avoid coming to his conclusion ?" 
 
 Virtually, but in various forms, this question has been often 
 repeated since Lessing's time. This is the distinct question 
 by which we are led away from the comparatively dogmatic 
 deism of the eighteenth century, to the religious philosophy 
 of the nineteenth. The latter begins indeed with Lessing's 
 attempt to answer his own question ; for here he anticipated 
 the thoughts of later writers. If one general tendency has 
 pervaded the whole controversy begun in his day, it has 
 been a wish or intention to avoid everything like a return 
 to the position held by Reimarus. This intention was made 
 
66 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 evident, for exam pi e, in 1864, when Strauss published his 
 reconstructed "Life of Jesus/' a work that as regards 
 what is new or improved in the general argument may be 
 described as an attempted concordance of two theories : one 
 the myth-theory, belonging especially to Strauss, the other 
 a theory of development of which F. Baur was the author, 
 though it had been suggested by Semler. The general aim 
 of the book is to reject, to a very large extent, the historical 
 evidences of Christianity; and yet avoid a return to the 
 position held by Reimarus. This general aim, reduced to 
 the less distinct character of a tendency, and sometimes 
 obeyed unconsciously, has more or less governed the 
 reasonings of several later writers on speculative theology. 
 Hence we find one of Lessing' s principles recognized in the 
 doctrine that man is capable of accepting a divine revelation, 
 and requires it ; another of his principles is reasserted when 
 we are assured that a revelation of his own will is an act 
 consonant with our highest conception of God, and to be 
 regarded as one inevitably springing forth out of his own 
 essence, which is love. And when we come to the question 
 of a medium of revelation, we find the difficulty left 
 unsolved by Lessing still remaining unsolved. It is this : 
 on one side, to shun everything like a return to the position 
 held by Reimarus ; on the other, to refuse full acceptation 
 of the historic and dogmatic tenet, te There is one mediator 
 between God and man." The various attempts made to 
 find out another middle way must be described in later 
 pages ; here the aim is to show, in a prefatory style, the 
 scope of the controversy, of which a first outline was given 
 by Lessing. Since his time the question has been made at 
 once more comprehensive, and in certain respects more 
 definite. On one side, not altogether vainly has philosophy 
 endeavoured to explore the depths, intellectual and moral, 
 of our human nature ; on the other side, just in proportion 
 as our tone in controversy has become more respectful 
 toward mankind, and more reverential toward God, so has 
 our common idea of that which constitutes a divine revelation 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 67 
 
 been elevated and expanded. Whatever the differences 
 still left among thoughtful and religious men in our times, 
 it may be generally said of them that their thoughts and 
 feelings are far removed from the cold, hard, dry deism 
 prevalent in the time of Lessing. They have deeper views 
 respecting our capacity for receiving and recognizing a 
 divine revelation; and higher views of the revelation 
 required. 
 
 The deism of his time, as estimated by Lessing himself, 
 was mostly a series of bare negations, and served chiefly to 
 make room for an extraordinary display of egoism and self- 
 conceit. Heaven was made lower, in order that several 
 small men might seem taller, while among them Lessing 
 appeared as a giant, whom they wished to reduce as nearly 
 as possible to the level of their own intellectual and moral 
 stature. The deists called fe old rationalists " were willing, 
 however, to concede to him one especial honour the honour 
 of a first place in a class represented by such names as 
 Teller, Nicolai, Biester, Gedicke, and Bahrdt. Their error 
 was corrected ; but in later times Lessing has been called a 
 deist, a pantheist, and a rationalist of the old school, while 
 his well-known love of polemical excitement has led certain 
 hasty critics to the conclusion that he published the 
 " Wolfe nbuttel Fragments/' and entered into the subsequent 
 dispute, mainly if not solely in order to display his prowess 
 and skill in literary warfare. True, there are passages to be 
 found in his later writings that may seem to support these 
 several notions. There are many passages justly described 
 as negative, and more that must be called sceptical ; but his 
 most serious writings, fairly read and interpreted, have their 
 own general tone and tendency, strongly opposed to the self- 
 complacent autonomy of the writers with whom he has too 
 often been classed. His preference was to live for ever 
 under the rule of the old orthodoxy, rather than under the 
 tumultuous despotism of such freethinkers as Basedow and 
 Bahrdt. Among the deistic writers of his day there were 
 distinctions of character not unimportant ; but as regards 
 
68 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 their general tendency they were all men of one school- 
 school to which Lessing did not belong. His sympathies 
 were too wide, his intellect at once too comprehensive and 
 too clear, his soul too deeply capable of both love and 
 reverence. He could not accept fully the historical evidences 
 of Christianity, as usually adduced on the side of orthodoxy; 
 but his failure of belief was not proclaimed in a tone of 
 triumph. To use his own words familiar but not trivial 
 between himself and the Christian religion, whose spiritual 
 and moral aims he recognized as the highest possible, there 
 lay " an ugly broad trench " of doubt, especially as regards 
 the inspiration of the four Gospels, and their consequent 
 authority as historical scriptures. He earnestly asked for 
 aid in passing over this " trench ;" but, as he tells us, he 
 found none. In other words, he could not accept historical 
 Christianity as founded on the inspiration and authority of 
 the New Testament. He remained an earnest inquirer, and 
 wished that the controversy he had. excited by publishing 
 the " Fragments/'' might go on, and lead at last to some 
 good results. Meanwhile, as he has told us, he could wait 
 quietly for the issue, and without sharing in the alarm 
 expressed by some of his contemporaries ; for he had made, 
 first of all, a wide distinction between the internal substance 
 of the Christian religion and its external or historical 
 evidences. The former he regarded as eternal and divine; 
 the latter as necessarily doubtful in certain respects. 
 
 Hence he was led on to contend that Christianity itself 
 would not be refuted, even if orthodox doctrine respecting 
 the inspiration of the New Testament were yielded as 
 untenable. He adduced the fact that, for a long time, the 
 unwritten traditions of the Early Church, collectively 
 regarded as a rule of faith, had well supplied the want of 
 scriptural authority. It is implied therefore, said he, that, 
 were all the scriptures of the New Testament found invalid 
 as historical testimony, there would remain the existence 
 and the development of the Early Church, as a great fact to 
 be accounted for. Such continuation of Lessing's argument 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 69 
 
 as might lead far into the question of ecclesiastical tradition 
 and authority, has been for the most part avoided on both 
 sides of the later controversy, while philosophy and biblical 
 criticism have mainly assumed predominance. 
 
 It should be noticed, at least in a passing way, that 
 several of Lessing's utterances, found in his later writings, 
 have been falsely isolated, and hastily accepted as full and 
 final expressions of deliberate convictions. Too much has 
 been made of his brief essay predicting the coming of a 
 time when all religious doctrines and precepts will be 
 summarized in the last will and testament of St. John : 
 " Children, love one another." Again, as regards theo- 
 logical controversy, too much has been said about 
 " Nathan," a drama in form, but in purport an able plea 
 for religious toleration. It is eloquent, and the well- 
 known scene of "the three rings'''' is remarkably effective, 
 when read with due emphasis. But the representatives of 
 the three religions are not fairly chosen, and the didactic 
 purpose, everywhere active, limits too closely the exercise 
 of such poetic power as the writer possessed. He was not 
 a poet in the highest sense of the word. If he had been 
 born a poet, the high culture of his critical intellect, and the 
 character of the controversy that occupied so much of his 
 later years, might have been enough to suppress the 
 development of his poetic genius. As to this drama of 
 " Nathan," there should be added the fact, that its tone 
 accords well with the writer's own practice of toleration. 
 When direct persecution, in his time, had for its objects the 
 tenets and sentiments of the people called Moravians 
 whose personal characters were not spared Lessing took 
 their part, though he had no sympathy with, the tone of 
 their piety. "I hate," said he, on another occasion, "the 
 people who wish to institute new sects; for it is not mere 
 error, but sectarian error aye, and sectarian truth that 
 makes men miserable. . . . Let but these shallow heads 
 [the rationalists] get the upper hand, and we shall soon 
 
70 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 have a tyranny worse than anything endured under the rule 
 of old orthodoxy ." 
 
 To find Lessing' s own deliberate and speculative views on 
 religion, we must study his essay "On the Education of 
 Mankind." As introductory to its analysis there may first 
 be given a few noticeable passages, selected from his 
 writings, and leading on toward one thought, repeated often, 
 or often implied in his later reasonings a thought that may 
 be regarded as the basis of his religious philosophy. 
 
 " The more one tries to demonstrate for me the truth of Christianity, 
 the more sceptical I grow about it ; and the more another treads it 
 down beneath his feet, the more firmly am I resolved to cherish it in 
 my heart. . . . Arguments against the letter of Christianity are not 
 valid against the religion itself, which surely existed before the time 
 when its records were written." " There is a certain submission of 
 reason demanded by the very nature of a revelation ; and in yielding 
 that submission,; when the reality of revelation is acknowledged, 
 reason expresses only a just conviction of its own limitations. 
 Granting a revelation made, the fact of its containing truth transcend- 
 ing our reason should be an argument in favour of, not an objection 
 against the revelation. What would it be if it revealed nothing ? " 
 
 " Revelation/' said Lessing, " must be gradual, or 
 progressive, and must begin in a positive form, and with 
 the assertion of some external authority ; but it is not to be 
 identified with any one positive form. It is the one 
 pervading spirit that, throughout all forms, remains ever 
 required and ever authoritative. The same pervading mind, 
 or spirit, awakens in us the aspiration called religion, which 
 has for its proper organ, not so much the understanding as 
 the heart. Eeligious aspiration leads us on to seek for, and 
 to accept revelation. The substance of religion consists of 
 eternal truths, having authority in themselves, independent 
 of their historical evidence." Here is mysticism, or idealism, 
 not unlike that asserted by F. H. Jacobi. 
 
 Having such views, Lessing could publish the "Frag- 
 ments " left by Eeimarus, and could witness the ensuing 
 controversy, without a fear lest Christianity itself should 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 71 
 
 perish in the strife. That his natural taste for polemical 
 excitement was partly his motive, is not denied. He had 
 asserted that internal or spiritual evidence should be pre- 
 dominant, while for the combatants arrayed on both sides 
 historical evidence was everything. He therefore found, in 
 all probability, some pleasure, while as an umpire he viewed 
 not altogether calmly the difficulties of their respective 
 positions and the defects of their reasonings. Clearly he 
 did not accept as his own the premisses assumed by 
 Eeimarus in his denial of the resurrection. 
 
 Here, in face of overwhelming evidence on the opposite 
 side, the utmost possible use was made of certain ( ' contra- 
 dictions " found, it was said, in the four narratives of that 
 event. " Are these," he asks, " such contradictions as no 
 fair exposition can make accordant with the general truth of 
 the testimony in which the four writers all concur ? If to 
 this question we reply ' no/ our decision has in its favour, at 
 least, this one great fact : the cause to be lost, if that 
 testimony were found to be false to be won, were it found 
 to be true has been won. Christianity has triumphed over 
 heathenism, and over Judaism/' These few words set in 
 contrast, on one side, the special doubts of the fragmentist ; 
 on the other a gigantic fact of which modern history is 
 the record. For nearly two thousand years Christianity 
 has existed in the world as a spiritual power, in whose 
 presence empires have faded away. 
 
 Enough has been said to show that Lessing whatever 
 his doubts and difficulties was a man not to be classed 
 with the ordinary rationalists of his time. While they 
 remained contented in the midst of desolation, his scepticism, 
 in his later days, had sorrow for a companion. While they 
 claimed him as their friend and champion, he was dwelling 
 far apart, in a world of his own thoughts ; and for solace 
 was looking far away, and out of his own times, into the 
 future. There, as he trusted, would some day appear that 
 "new eternal revelation" which, he says, a is promised in 
 the elementary scriptures of the New Testament," and 
 
72 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 "will surely come/' But if we read rightly, this new reve- 
 lation must be some expansion of Christianity ; for this, he 
 says, in another place, is " the religion that, in all pro- 
 bability, will endure as long as men continue to exist and 
 feel their need of a Mediator between mankind and God." 
 
 The question suggested here is threefold : what are the 
 meanings which Lessing attaches to the words " Chris- 
 tianity " and " Revelation ?" and what does he mean when 
 he speaks of our need of a Mediator ? In order to find 
 replies, there must first be given an analysis of his essay on 
 " The Education of Mankind." 
 
 In Lessing's idea of revelation, already briefly defined, 
 it is implied, that the moral guidance required by man- 
 kind is given by means of a gradual revelation, which has 
 three epochs, corresponding with three periods of history 
 childhood, youth, and manhood. This general idea must 
 be more distinctly noticed. First it should be observed, 
 that of any absolute or eternal opposition of reason and 
 revelation Lessing knows nothing. He holds that it 
 belongs to the province of revelation to make known in an 
 earlier time, and in a way easy for the people of that time, 
 truth that in a later time might be discovered by educated 
 reason. This is partly a republication of doctrine taught by 
 several of the early fathers, as well as by the schoolmen, 
 Anselm and Aquinas ; but Lessing in his general intention 
 goes farther than the schoolmen, as may be inferred from 
 some of his remarks on the period of " manhood."" He 
 suggests that obedience will then be our happiness, when 
 we shall clearly know that in obeying God we are but 
 acting in accordance with the laws of our own nature. On 
 some bolder expressions of the same truth certain critics 
 have founded a charge of pantheism, which may be alluded 
 to again in another place ; but first must be noticed what 
 Lessing says of that indispensable stage in the evolution of 
 human nature childhood ; then must follow an abstract of 
 his remarks respecting the religious education of youth and 
 manhood. 
 
CHAPTER TV. LESSINQ. 73 
 
 A capacity for receiving truth is obviously distinct from 
 a power of discovering it. The former belongs to man in 
 the early period of his moral education ; but the latter is a 
 power then latent. At such a time, moral guidance must 
 bear the character of a revelation. Thus in their period of 
 childhood, the ancient people of Israel received for their 
 guidance in moral and physical life the truths of the Old 
 Testament. The unity of God was here revealed to a rude 
 people, in some respects less educated than their polytheistic 
 neighbours. A sure and clear code of moral laws was 
 established, and obedience was enforced by rewards and 
 punishments both temporal ; but the immortality of the 
 soul was not revealed. These remarks obviously relate 
 chiefly to the books known by their collective title " the 
 Law." 
 
 Christianity is a higher revelation, and one especially 
 intended to afford guidance during a period of human 
 history that may be called youth. Our motives now are 
 nobler, more expansive ; immortality is our destination ; we 
 are invited to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, and 
 therefore virtues greater than any that can be demanded by 
 any civil authority must now be ours. This world neither can, 
 nor will reward us ; our reward, reserved in Heaven, is to 
 be everlasting one that can be prefigured by no earthly 
 joys. The prize to be won is now so high, that our duty 
 leaving all and following Christ is called (f light " and 
 "easy." Still a reward is expected, and therefore, says 
 Lessing, this stage of revelation is not perfect. 
 
 Next will come, he says, the religion of manhood. Im- 
 pelled only by a pure love of God and man, we shall do 
 good, and expect no reward, save what is found in goodness 
 itself. <e Will it never come ?" says Lessing, with an 
 impassioned tone, " that age of light and purity of heart ? 
 Never ? Let me not entertain the doubt. Surely, there 
 will some day be revealed that Eternal Gospel promised in 
 the New Testament. " This is a remarkable passage ; the 
 writer ascribes to the Christian Religion itself the defective 
 
74 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 development for which we ourselves are responsible. The 
 error that would look into the future, to find a religion of 
 manhood, is surely refuted by the question, Was not St. 
 Paul "a man in Christ?" But Lessing's words may possibly 
 be construed as consistent with a belief that the future 
 religion of which he speaks will be an expanded knowledge 
 and realization of true Christianity not " another Gospel." 
 
 The educational process thus described must indeed seem 
 slow, and on this account mysterious ; but the straight line, 
 says Lessing, is not always practically the shortest. How 
 do we know all that Providence has to do for mankind, 
 besides leading them onwards ? How do we know that 
 seeming deviations from the direct line of progress, and 
 even some apparent retrogressions, are not required by the 
 whole design of which our welfare is a part ? In some 
 stages of the process time seems to be wasted ; but the loss 
 must not be deplored too bitterly ; ' ' for is not the whole of 
 eternity still ours ?" To show the force of this query, a 
 rather singular fact must be named : Lessing had a firm 
 belief in the general truth of Platonic teaching respecting 
 transmigrations of the soul. He could therefore imagine, 
 that many who have patiently lived on through dark times, 
 may return, and enjoy the daylight that will at last appear. 
 
 We are now led to the main question suggested by 
 Lessing's theological writings. How is the moral and 
 spiritual truth, the power, the authority of Christianity to 
 be maintained, when so much has been done to diminish the 
 force of its historical evidences ? This, though the word^ 
 are ours, may fairly be called Lessing' s question : and if one 
 more word be required, to take him away so to speak 
 out of the crowd of lower men with whom he was unhappily 
 associated, it is here : this was for him an earnest question. 
 Thus out of his moral solitude he writes to one of his 
 "friends:" "All the liberty you enjoy at Berlin is your 
 liberty of insulting grossly all that is Christian." . On the 
 other hand, he writes thus of his own religious instinct, 
 which was even more powerful than his understanding : 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 75 
 
 *' My desire to be convinced [respecting the inspiration, and the 
 consequent historical authority of the Gospels] is nothing less than a 
 hunger, that would take in almost anything having a semblance of 
 food. Doubt upon this point is the ugly wide trench that I cannot 
 cross, though so often and so earnestly I have made the attempt to 
 leap over it. If any man can help me here, let him do it ; I pray, 
 nay adjure him to do it; and if he can, he will surely win thereby the 
 blessing of God." 
 
 These words do not express the doubt of the idle reasoner, 
 whose scepticism masks egotism and sensuality ; these are 
 words spoken by one of the greatest men of his century. 
 The fact makes it the more important that first we should 
 well understand his own answer to his own question, and 
 secondly, that we should attempt to make definite other and 
 later answers ; and this will be done best if we employ with 
 regard to each, the same process of analysis by which Les- 
 sing's own answer, considered in all its relations, is first to 
 be made as clear as possible. In substance this answer has 
 already been given in the shape of an analysis of his multum 
 in parvo the small and pregnant essay on the ' ' Education 
 of Mankind." For him Christianity is one very important 
 part in a vast organism of gradual revelation ; and the grand 
 aim of this revelation is to establish all over the world one 
 religion, of which the creed will finally be reduced to a 
 summary in these few words : " Children, love one another." 
 This anticipated conclusion is more distinctly shown in one 
 of the conversations entitled "Ernst und Falk" (1778). 
 States or nations, says Falk in faot Lessing himself must 
 have their boundaries, and their several tendencies to make 
 themselves insular. Their relations with one another are 
 therefore ever in danger of assuming a hostile character. 
 What is wanted to prevent, first moral differences, then 
 actual division and warfare, is a firm, wide-spread union of 
 Catholic men, whose sympathies have no local boundaries, 
 and whose good will embraces all the world. It might be 
 supposed that our Christian religion, as actually existing, 
 should supply such an adamantine bond of nations; but 
 unhappily Falk continues instead of religion, we now 
 
76 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 have religions, that have made even wider the separation of 
 nation from nation. Hence the want of a free union of 
 men, meeting together not as German, and French and 
 English representatives, bat simply as men, and all united, 
 not only by such sympathy as makes the bond of " an in- 
 visible church/' but also by a firm and practical organization, 
 founded on the catholic ideas of their own common faith. 
 
 The argument in this conversation is very skilfully con- 
 ducted ; while its force depends utterly on the acceptation 
 of the word "men." Of course they are to be educated 
 men; but how are they to be educated ? By Christ? or 
 by their own reason ? This at once leads to the question, 
 What does Lessing mean by " revelation " ? It has been 
 rather too boldly affirmed by a critic Hettner that 
 Lessing' s "revelation" is but a self-expansion or a natural 
 evolution of reason. His teaching says the same critic 
 is after all, but a disguised pantheism, in which "revela- 
 tion" is an exoteric synonym for evolution. These remarks 
 are not duly respectful ; however it is well known that in 
 his later years Lessing was a diligent reader of the writings 
 of Spinoza ; and partly on this ground is founded the 
 charge here indicated that his own creed was Spinozism, 
 which was disguised in order to shun persecution. It is 
 unpleasant to quote such words as "disguised," "exoteric" 
 and " esoteric," when we write of Lessing ; but it is at once 
 granted, that the evidences adduced in support of the 
 implied charge are apparently considerable, including 
 several passages in Lessing's own writings, and moreover a 
 declaration made by his friend F. H. Jacobi a man whose 
 character was morally noble. There can be no doubt 
 respecting the sincerity of his belief, when he affirmed that 
 Lessing' s later creed was Spinozism. 
 
 Neither neglect, nor any slight study of the evidences 
 named here is implied, when the conclusion that " Lessing 
 was a pantheist," is firmly rejected. At the same time, no 
 attempt is made to show that the opinions expressed in his 
 various theological writings to a large extent polemical 
 are consistent with one another. His versatility was almost 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 77 
 
 as remarkable as the clearness of his intellect, and on some 
 points he always remained an inquirer, as he confessed even 
 in his later years. There is rest in pantheism, though it 
 may be the repose of an apathetic despair ; Lessing it is 
 sad to say it did not find rest. Though he was the son of 
 a pious Lutheran pastor, who translated Tillotson's sermons, 
 he soon turned away from the beaten path of orthodoxy. 
 During his earlier years of study, he considered the claims 
 preferred by the " freethinkers," and read the writings of 
 several among the English deists. When hardly more than 
 twenty-four years old, he wrote an essay on religious 
 mysteries, showing how they had been first revealed, in 
 order that they might be afterwards understood. Rather 
 later, he published a paper asserting that good morals might 
 be maintained without the support of religion. Another 
 of his earlier essays contends, that those who reject the 
 Christian religion should give some reasonable account of 
 its origin and early promulgation. Accordingly, he soon 
 afterwards wrote the account desiderated, and thus gave 
 proof of one fact that he had studied well the fifteenth 
 and sixteenth chapters of Gibbon's well-known work. In 
 another paper Lessing defended the union of Church and 
 State. His principle that such union was inevitable was 
 better than the territorial principle of expediency main- 
 tained by his senior contemporary, Moser, a rationalist who 
 hated all openly declared heterodoxy, and recommended 
 orthodoxy as an instrumentum regni. But enough has been 
 said to show how wide was the range of Lessing 7 s studies. 
 There remains still to be noticed, as closely connected with 
 his theological writings, his drama of " Nathan" the book 
 by which his fame was most widely spread. It is, however, 
 here regarded only as a plea in behalf of religious tolera- 
 tion ; not as a proof of the alleged fact, that the author, 
 near the close of his life rejected all positive religion. 
 
 The action belongs to the time of Saladin ; and the 
 chief actors are Nathan, a Jew of the best moral type, 
 Recha, a Jewess of the same type, and Saladin, Sultan of 
 
78 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Egypt and Syria these on the side of Judaism and Islam ; 
 on the Christian side, first a bigot Patriarch, who would 
 burn the Jew, next a Templar, and thirdly a pious monk. 
 The purport of the whole drama is given in one scene that 
 in which the Jew narrates the parable of " the three rings. 3) 
 Saladin has named the three creeds professed in his terri- 
 tories, and has asked for Nathan's judgment respecting 
 their different claims. The Jew now, in a prefatory way, 
 recites the parable. There lived, says he, in an eastern 
 land a certain wealthy man whose dearest possession was a 
 charm an opal of many tints, well set in a ring of fine 
 gold. This precious ring could make its wearer beloved by 
 God and by man. When death was near, the rich man was 
 perplexed by the question, to whom should he bequeath the 
 ring ; for he had three sons, all dutiful, and all alike beloved. 
 The possessor of the opal was to be regarded, henceforth, as 
 the head of the family. The father could not concentrate 
 his love ; he therefore some time before his decease had 
 made for him two perfect copies of the true, original gem ; 
 and of the three rings, all apparently alike, one was 
 bequeathed to each of the sons. The sequel may be partly 
 guessed. A dispute followed; each asserted his claim as 
 head of the family; each brought into court the "true, 
 original ring;" and says Nathan 
 
 " To find the first true ring, 
 It was as great a puzzle as for us 
 To find the one true faith." 
 
 Of the three brothers each accused the other two of fraud, 
 and so well balanced was the evidence, that each in his turn 
 appeared as the true claimant. "What could the judge 
 say?" Saladin inquired; and thus Nathan concludes the 
 parable : 
 
 Thus said the judge : " Go, bring your father here ; 
 Let him come forth ! or I dismiss the case. 
 Must I sit guessing riddles ! must I wait 
 Till the true ring shall speak out for itself P 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 79 
 
 But stay ! 'twas said that the authentic gem 
 
 Had virtue that could make its wearer loved 
 
 By G-od and man. That shall decide the case. 
 
 Tell me who of the three is best beloved 
 
 By his two brethren. Silent ? Then the ring 
 
 Hath lost its charm ! Each claimant loves himself, 
 
 But wins no love. The rings are forgeries ; 
 
 'Tis plain : the first, authentic gem was lost ; 
 
 To keep his word with you, and hide his loss, 
 
 Your father had these three rings made these three, 
 
 Instead of one " 
 
 Saladin. Well spoken, judge, at last ! 
 
 Nathan. " But stay," the judge continued : " hear one word 
 The best advice I have to give ; then go. 
 Let each still trust the ring given by his father ! 
 It might be, he would show no partial love ; 
 He loved all three, and, therefore, would not give 
 The ring to one and grieve the other two. 
 Go, emulate your father's equal love. 
 Let each first test his ring and show its power ; 
 But aid it, while you test ; be merciful, 
 Forbearing, kind to all men, and submit 
 Your will to God. Such virtues shall increase 
 Whatever powers the rings themselves may have. 
 When these, among your late posterity, 
 Have shown their virtue in some future time, 
 A thousand thousand years away from now 
 Then hither come again ! A wiser man 
 Than one now sitting here will hear you then, 
 And will pronounce the sentence " 
 
 Saladin. Allah! Allah! 
 
 Nathan. Now, Saladin, art thou that "wiser man?" 
 Art thou the judge who will, at last, pronounce 
 
 The sentence ? 
 
 [Saladin grasps Nathan's hand, and holds it to the 
 end of the conversation.'] 
 
 Saladin. I the judge ? I'm dust ! I'm nothing ! 
 'Tis Allah '.Nathan, now I understand ; 
 The thousand thousand years have not yet passed ; 
 The Judge is not yet come ; I must not place 
 Myself upon His throne ! 
 
 "Nathan" was completed in 1779, when the author was 
 
80 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 an almost worn-out man. He was only fifty years old ; but 
 domestic grief, polemical excitement, and much vexation in 
 his later years, made him prematurely old. He said little, 
 but suffered deeply, when (1778) he suddenly lost at once 
 his wife and his only child. " There still remains for me," 
 said he, " work to be done, and to some degree this may 
 serve as an opiate." Meanwhile his publication of the 
 " Fragments " had excited the displeasure of several persons 
 who had once been numbered among his friends and 
 acquaintances, and in his gloomy mood of mind he com- 
 plained that all the world was forsaking him. Yet now 
 and then a word of challenge, or friendly provocation, could 
 arouse in the old gladiator something like his former love of 
 combat. Thus he was one day led into the conversation on 
 which has been mainly founded the charge of pantheism. 
 His friend Jacobi had directed his attention to te Prome- 
 theus," one of Goethe's earlier poems, in which defiant 
 words are addressed to Zeus, the despot of Greek mytho- 
 logy. When his friend had observed that the lines were 
 pantheistic in their tone, Lessing replied to the effect that 
 they expressed his own sentiments. " Then you agree with 
 Spinoza ?" said Jacobi, whose own creed might fairly be 
 called theism. As reported by himself, the answer to his 
 question was as follows : " If I must name myself after the 
 master of any school, that is the name." The following are 
 some further passages in the same conversation, given as 
 reported by Jacobi : 
 
 " I believe," says he, " in an intelligent and personal Cause of the 
 universe." 
 
 L. " All the better ! Now I shall hear something new " [i.e. in the 
 way of an argument]. 
 
 J. " You must not be too hopeful of that ; for I help myself out of 
 all my difficulties of reasoning by a salto mortale . . . Thus I escape 
 at once from the logic of fatalism, and all that belongs to it." 
 
 L. " You would assert your freedom of will. Well ; I liardly care 
 to assert it on my part , . . You will not follow Spinoza, though you 
 must see the force of his logic P" 
 
 J. " Just so ; and I owe him some thanks ; for he has shown me 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 81 
 
 the end [fatalism] to which all such reasoning as his own must lead. 
 Where I see that, I at once make an end of reasoning, and take things 
 as they are [i.e. as they are intuitively seen]. In other words, my 
 philosophy ends there : I cease reasoning and believe." 
 
 L. " I do not altogether dislike your salto morlale your bold leap 
 to get away from a fatalistic consequence. I wish you would take me 
 along with you." 
 
 J. " Well, if you will but step upon my spring-board." 
 L. " Ah ; but that itself would be a leap, and one too bold for my 
 weary limbs and my heavy head." 
 
 Not long after the time when this conversation took 
 place, Lessing died (1781), and soon afterwards Jacob! 
 published his belief that the author of " Nathan " was, in 
 his later years, a pantheist. One fact alone should have 
 prevented the rash conclusion ; Jacobi knew that his 
 friend had long believed generally in Plato's doctrine 
 respecting transmigrations of souls. The theory of Spino- 
 zism could not be held consistently with this Platonic 
 notion. Jacobi's publication surprised and grieved some 
 few of Lessing's old friends, especially one true friend the 
 Jew, whose own character suggested that of " Nathan/' 
 This was Moses Mendelssohn, now an invalid, who bravely 
 came forward to repel the charge, and expended almost his 
 last reserve of strength in the controversy that followed* 
 Here may be added an extract from a letter written by 
 Jacobi in 1781 : 
 
 "How far, I would like to know, was vexation the cause of 
 Lessing's death? In his later years he was deeply afflicted with 
 melancholy. Never shall I forget one morning, not along ago, when I 
 passed some few hours in his company. In the course of our conver- 
 sation some discussion arose, and on one point so clearly had I the 
 best side of the argument, that he could give me no reply. At that 
 moment, the expression that passed over his face was terrible ; I had 
 never before seen anything like it. However, it soon passed away, 
 the drift of our discourse was changed, and he talked again con- 
 fidingly, but sorrowfully, telling me how all the world had now for- 
 saken him ; how especially one person formerly a dear friend- 
 would no longer recognize him." 
 
 This passage may possibly cast some light on that first 
 
 6 
 
82 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 discursive and half -humourous conversation. " Pantheism" 
 was probably the question in this later conversation. 
 Jacobi was too much prone to introduce that question, and 
 it is quite obvious that his friend was melancholy and weary 
 when he was so completely defeated. Enough has been 
 said to show that here is no evidence demanding notice, 
 when we are speaking of Lessing's serious belief in the 
 truth of the doctrine called Spinozism or pantheism. Yet a 
 word may be added : he knew that the teaching of Spinoza 
 however incorrect was distinct from the vague and 
 vulgar notions collectively called pantheism ; again, he 
 knew well, that Spinoza's ideas respecting the Person of 
 Christ were less objectionable than some notions spread by 
 rationalists, and were quite as reverent as any thoughts 
 entertained even by Jacobi himself. The main facts of the 
 case were these : Lessing himself an intellectually aristo- 
 cratic man venerated genius. He sometimes heard igno- 
 rant persons talking very freely about the metaphysical 
 Israelite, and naturally feeling annoyance, he would say to 
 himself : " Sie treten ihm zu nahe. :j (They are hardly 
 respectful enough to the man.) On a certain occasion, 
 when declamatory language of unusual violence had been 
 employed, Lessing said, openly enough : " They treat 
 Spinoza as if he were a dead dog. 3 ' Of course such sayings 
 were reported ; their supposed intention was confirmed by 
 certain interpretations of a few passages found in Lessing's 
 writings ; and then Jacobi added his erroneous evidence. 
 Thus at last it was concluded by some people that Lessing 
 a writer eminently clear, bold, and honest intended to 
 say he was a pantheist, when he wrote to all intents and 
 purposes as a theist. Of such expositors and critics one 
 can only say again : " Sie treten ihm zu nahe." 
 
 It has been suggested (c. ii.) that the argument employed 
 by St. Paul, when preaching on Mars' Hill, is the best by 
 which Christianity can be recommended. Some approach 
 to the leading principle of that argument is seen in Lessing's 
 educational theory of religion. Several of his other theo- 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 83 
 
 logical writings have been named, but we make no attempt 
 to show how they may be understood as parts of one 
 consistent whole. His general idea that a progressive 
 clearness in the manifestation of divine truth may be 
 reasonably expected, and that it will take place, step by 
 step, in perfect accordance with the true evolution of human 
 nature remains to be noticed still further, but only as 
 leading to one question. To this one question later writers 
 on religious philosophy have more or less referred, and their 
 arguments may be generally defined as so many attempts 
 made to answer the chief question suggested by Lessing : 
 Will Christianity be our final religion ? 
 
 It will be convenient, when the views of later writers 
 come to be noticed, to employ mainly the same plan of 
 classification that is here first employed in the analysis of 
 Lessing's idea of educational religion ; and this will now be 
 considered, in its several relations with ethics, authority, and 
 mediation. Very little will be said respecting the ethical 
 character of the idea, which in itself is threefold. In the 
 first period, we have the ethics described as belonging to 
 the religion of childhood ; and these are pure, especially as 
 compared with the moral condition of the peoples by whom 
 the Jews in ancient times were surrounded. In the second 
 period we have the ethics of Christianity, and of these again 
 little remains to be said. But in the third period still 
 future we read of ethics purer than those recognized as 
 belonging to our present Christian Religion. Will that 
 apparently far-off time, when love alone will reign, belong 
 to Christ ? Here is the chief question ; and it will present 
 itself again and again, as we go on in the analysis of 
 Leasing' s educational idea. 
 
 We have seen how, with certain restrictions, this idea may 
 be held as one accordant with a firm belief in the fact that 
 a revelation has been made ; but Christianity has claimed 
 for itself the character of a final revelation. As it did not 
 owe its origin to any discovery made by human reason, so 
 we are told it will not fade away, even before the noonday 
 
 6 * 
 
84 GERMAN -CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 light of our reason. In this world despite all the un- 
 favourable signs of these latter times it may soon be very 
 widely spread, or it may soon be " diminished and brought 
 low ;" but it can never change as regards its central tenet, 
 which must remain ever the same as yesterday, so to-day 
 and for ever. This is the position assumed by the Christian 
 Faith. 
 
 It is not said that Lessing's idea must imply that an 
 essential change is to be made in Christianity, in order that 
 his prophecy of a third religious period may be fulfilled ; 
 but it is affirmed that the question, f ' Will Christianity pass 
 away ?" was left by him an open question, and since his 
 time has been deeply studied. With this question modern 
 religious philosophy, in Germany, is for the most part 
 closely connected. 
 
 Next must be noticed the question : to what authority 
 does Lessing chiefly refer ? to the scriptures of the Old 
 Testament and the New? to the Church? or to reason ? 
 If a brief reply is to be given, it may be this : he refers 
 chiefly to the final authority of reason ; but our reason, he 
 adds, must first be educated by means of revelation and 
 history, before it can safely be allowed to assert its own 
 autonomy. When truly and patiently educated, under the 
 care of Providence, reason will at last recognize itself its 
 own best conclusions certainly in the ethics of the Chris- 
 tian Religion, and probably also in some of the tenets now 
 regarded as mysteries. The main question returns, here as 
 elsewhere : Will the religion of the future based as it will 
 be on the autonomy of reason appear as a new expansion 
 of the Gospel? or as "another Gospel ?" Several appa- 
 rent replies may be found in the various passages of Lessing's 
 writings already briefly noticed ; but he gives us no clear, 
 final reply. 
 
 Lessing's idea of educational religion is next to be noticed 
 in its relation to the Christian doctrine of mediation. 
 Divine mercy, he says, pardons sins, and in so doing has 
 respect to the offering of a perfect obedience. The Chris- 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. - 85 
 
 tian Religion }IQ adds in another place will in all proba- 
 bility endure as long as men feel their need of a Mediator 
 between God and man that is to say, it may exist for ever. 
 This remark does not assure us of the writer's own belief, 
 but is connected with his comparative estimate of several 
 arguments adduced for the support of faith. He admits the 
 fact that human nature is corrupted ; and this leads him to 
 the conclusion that divine truth must first appear as a 
 revelation ; but here is found no reference to the Christian 
 doctrine of mediation. He speaks of eternal truths, com- 
 mending themselves by their own intrinsic character, and 
 requiring no further evidence; but these are the moral 
 precepts of our religion. His positive views are mostly 
 ethical. Of mediation ho says little; and nothing of the 
 personal faith demanded by orthodox Lutheranism. He 
 recognizes the importance of personal convictions, whose 
 testimony is too strong to be disturbed by doubt; but 
 here again he is speaking of ethical sentiments above all, 
 of those which he tells us were predominant in the " Reli- 
 gion of Christ," but are too little known and felt in our 
 so-called " Christian Religion.-" Yet he gives us no clear 
 account of their difference. For some centuries, he says, 
 an oral and traditional regula fidei served as the bond of 
 union among Christians. This suggestive remark might 
 naturally lead to inquiry respecting the chief tenets and the 
 development of the early Church. It might be expected 
 that Lessing would next show how and when the " Religion 
 of Christ " was changed into the " Christian Religion." 
 But his historical remark has a merely polemical use ; he is 
 criticizing certain extreme Lutheran tenets respecting the 
 authority of Scripture; accordingly he refers to the time 
 when orthodoxy or rather fidelity to Christ was preserved 
 without the aid of Scripture. 
 
 Lessing's polemical writings are partly fragmentary, and 
 contain passages telling us little respecting his own belief. 
 Among all the critics of his age, he was the clearest ; yet 
 the consistency of his own assertions taken one with 
 
86 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 another is not always as clear as his admirable style of 
 writing. His supposed belief has been too boldly, and at 
 the same time too narrowly, denned by several writers, 
 whose sources of information are but scanty. Of the 
 Person of Christ, as of his life and his death considered 
 as subjects of historical inquiry Lessing said comparatively 
 little : it has therefore been affirmed that he was merely " a 
 deist." This hasty assertion is not implied now, when it is 
 added that his silence on these points was in one respect 
 remarkable. In the controversy following his publication 
 of the " Fragments/' there was on the antichristian side no 
 deficiency of such power of attack as, at that time, was 
 sure to be effective. Yet it was nothing as compared with 
 the power that Lessing might have displayed on the side of 
 the defence. There was spread then among pious people 
 an alarm resembling a panic ; it was felt that the last inner 
 wall nay, the very heart of the Christian fortress was 
 assailed, while its defenders were, for the most part, but 
 feeble men. Lessing rather coldly observed that the 
 attack was somewhat less formidable than was supposed ; 
 and meanwhile the chief command on the side of the 
 defence was left to be assumed by a leader no better than 
 Semler. 
 
 There are apparent contradictions here and there to be 
 observed in Lessing's writings. Analytical clearness of 
 intellect was his predominant faculty ; but he was a man in 
 whom the intellect did not suppress the heart. His cha- 
 racter was at once sceptic and mystic. He had a sympathy 
 with the faith that in his day was so much misrepresented 
 and derided. However clear he might be when writing on 
 questions of less interest, he was not always clear when 
 reviewing the arguments brought forward in his day for and 
 against religion. That a faith endowed with a divine ethical 
 power a faith whose continuance in such a world as ours is 
 a perpetual miracle must after all be rejected on account 
 of historical doubts : this was one great difficulty. Again 
 it was hard to understand why if it must pass away no 
 
CHAPTER IV. LESSING. 87 
 
 good building should ever follow any demolition of this 
 faith. When will they build up anything like it ? These 
 are not Lessing's words ; but they express the tone of one 
 of his letters. It was written in 1777, and was addressed 
 to his brother, who had described as (t smatterers^ even the 
 best champions of Christianity. " No, no ! " said Lessing, 
 " there I cannot follow you. The 'smatterers' are found 
 on the other side, and there too you will find the most 
 illiberal men among all the foes of philosophy." 
 
 To conclude Lessing was not altogether unlike his 
 friend Jacobi. The latter accepted no positive religion. 
 For him revelation was a light ever shining forth from God, 
 and passing through various media from soul to soul, in 
 all ages, in all lands yet shining out with a peculiar bright- 
 ness in true Christians. All his life long Jacobi was 
 studying the Christian faith, and wishing that he could 
 accept it as his own; but he had his doubts. "I am," 
 said he, " a Christian at heart, but in intellect a heathen." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 HERDER. 
 
 HERDER, at the time when Lessing died, was only thirty- 
 seven years old, but had already gained a place in literature, 
 and especially had made himself remarkable as an enthu- 
 siastic student of poetry especially the poetry of the Bible. 
 This he described as the most appropriate form in which 
 divine inspiration can be communicated to men. " Poetry, 
 philosophy, and history/' he said, are the three lights that 
 illuminate the nations. It will be noticed that, though he 
 was by profession a theologian, he says nothing .here of 
 religion. For him religion was not a series of doctrines ; 
 but was the spirit, the vital breath, animating all culture, 
 while the aim of all culture was to use his own word 
 humanitarian. It may be justly observed that the words 
 here used to denote Herder's position are in meaning wide 
 and vague ; but these words are his own, and others, though 
 more precise, might be incorrect. As regards doctrinal 
 religion, Herder could not be numbered with the orthodox, 
 nor could he find satisfaction in the cold unbelief of his age. 
 Without a doubt, the human side of Christianity the traits 
 that the common people like and understand ; the sentiments 
 accordant with the heart's best affections ; and, not least, 
 the poetry of religion had been too long comparatively 
 neglected in Lutheranisin. Hence men of views differing 
 widely in some important respects especially as regards 
 the moral character and the destiny of man might in 
 common readily accept a great part of Herder's teaching 
 which, briefly given, tells us that Christianity is true 
 humanity. Obviously, a proposition in which both the 
 
CHAPTER V. HEEDEE. 89 
 
 subject and the predicate are so large can of itself say little. 
 It is but one of these euphonic abstractions so freely 
 employed in Herder's time; and to find his own true mean- 
 ing we must fairly study the records of his life, beginning 
 with his youthful enthusiasm, and closing with the disap- 
 pointment and melancholy of his later years. 
 
 Herder's general notion of revelation and religion is 
 like Lessing's educational ; but this again is a general idea, 
 and leaves a larger question open respecting its practical 
 meaning. As those who are to be educated are men, and 
 in Christianity we find the true model of humanity, it follows 
 that our principles of education must be Christian. Does 
 Herder 'intend then to say only this that Christian ethics 
 are our bases of education ? If so, he might have said it 
 more clearly. Or does he mean more ? There are found 
 in his writings passages that might lead one to answer 
 " Yes '," for example the following : 
 
 " Teachers of religion, true ministers of the word of God ! what a 
 work have you to do in an age like this ! To perform it well, your 
 first pre-requisite must be this to believe that there is in Holy 
 Scripture a revelation of God, and that there is also one in the history 
 of mankind. And hy one, as by the other, we are led to one centre 
 to Jesus Christ ... If to teach morality is the chief business of the 
 preacher, and if the Bible, and the words of Jesus, are to be viewed 
 but as quotations, that come indeed from God, but only as all 
 truth comes from Him then farewell Christianity, religion, and 
 revelation!" 
 
 It would not be right to quote any few sentences like the 
 above as full and satisfactory expressions of Herder's 
 religious tenets. He was a man whose thoughts are per- 
 vaded by a religious tone, while his belief is, for the most 
 part, implied rather than expressed. 
 
 His literary services may, however, be clearly estimated, 
 while some doubts are left still unsolved respecting the 
 tendencies of his more strictly religious works. In the days 
 when he was young, literary men especially those who 
 cared for poetry belonged mostly to two schools the 
 
90 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 broad and the narrow. Nicolai, the critic and bookseller at 
 Berlin, represents the latter; Herder the former. To the 
 notions of Nicolai and some of his friends the collective 
 name " literary rationalism" has been applied. The term is 
 vague; but it indicates truly the fact, that the tendency 
 called " rationalism ," with regard to religion, was also closely 
 connected with general literature, at the time when Herder 
 first appeared as a critic, or rather as an enthusiastic lover 
 of poetry. 
 
 As we have seen, there was nothing original in the earlier 
 German rationalism. At first borrowed from Locke, Toland, 
 Tindal, and other foreign authors, ifc travelled by way of 
 France, and gained prestige at the court of Berlin. Other 
 courts imitated Berlin, and from courts the " new light" spread 
 among the middle classes. Berlin long remained the centre 
 of " enlightenment," and its chief representative was Nicolai. 
 It was to him that Lessing addressed the popular note 
 already named : " All the liberty you have at Berlin is to 
 send to the market your stupid jokes against religion/' 
 " The literary rationalism" of the time prescribed narrow and 
 dogmatic rules of criticism, and was generally negative and 
 exclusive. Old German poetry, Shakespeare's dramas and 
 Percy's " Reliques of Ancient English Poetry" were all alike 
 condemned. Nicolai and his friends had some appreciation 
 of wit and comic humour and could admire a satirical fable ; 
 but they maintained that poetry like religion must be 
 judged by the newly-discovered criterion, " common sense ;" 
 everything that could not be understood as readily as " that 
 2 + 2 = 4" must be denounced as superstition; morals may 
 be taught in verse, and poetry may do the work of cate- 
 chisms; but all expressions of faith, feeling or thought, 
 transcending Nicolai' s own faculty of common sense must 
 be condemned as dreamery or nonsense. Against all such 
 rules as these, Herder was next to Hamann the arch- 
 rebel of the period. He was the head-master of the broad 
 school, and it is not too much to say that he gave a new 
 inspiration to German poetry and philosophy. He did not 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDER. 91 
 
 lay down precise rules ; but lie widened the boundaries of 
 study and communicated to others his own enthusiasm. 
 
 JOHANN GOTTFRIED HERDER, the son of a poor schoolmaster, 
 was born at Mohrungen, 25th August, 1744. After some 
 time spent in the study of surgery, he went to Konigsberg 
 (1762) where he studied theology, heard Kant's lectures on 
 philosophy, and became acquainted with Hamann, who was 
 one of Kant's friends. 
 
 Of all the men whom the " men of light " called dreamers, 
 mystics and hypocrites, Johann Georg Hamann was the 
 chief. His errors, as contrasted with the light of the period, 
 were dark as midnight. He still believed in a divine reve- 
 lation, and appealed, for proof of his belief, to his own 
 conscience and experience. He had been, as he confessed, 
 a sinner in his youth, and, when reduced to moral despe- 
 ration, had been saved, as he declared, by reading the Bible. 
 He refused to sacrifice feelings or even old traditions to 
 hard logic, cared little for either mental or moral philosophy, 
 and thought it a mistake to put any intellectual theory in 
 the place of faith. Lastly, he talked of poetry as a kind of 
 revelation far above all reasonings. This bold dogma was 
 accepted by Herder; but he by no means embraced the 
 whole of the creed asserted by Hamann, who went as far 
 toward the East as Nicolai went toward the West. In his 
 earlier life, Hamann, while engaged as the agent of a com- 
 mercial firm, had neglected his duties and involved himself 
 in debt. His efforts to extricate himself seemed deficient 
 in energy, and Kant, as a friend, wrote a mild letter of 
 reproof. The reply was odd and characteristic. The friendly 
 tone of Kant's letter was acknowledged, while the advice 
 given by one who was " only a philosopher and a moralist " 
 was repelled. {< I am glad, however," said Hamann, " that 
 my sins have led you thus to address me ; for I entertain a 
 hope that your correspondence with the sinner may end in 
 your conversion to Christianity." 
 
 The notions derived by Herder from his intercourse with 
 Hamann led to a new theory of poetry. The theory might 
 
92 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 seem vague as a whole, but included such principles as 
 these : that poetic genius must not be confined by any 
 laws made by a small critic like Nicolai ; that imagination 
 and feeling had their rights, not to be suppressed by the 
 newly deified " reason" of the period ; that religion and 
 poetry were closely allied, and, lastly, that true inspiration 
 might be found in the best of those unstudied productions 
 which Herder called " the people's songs of many lands." 
 On this last topic the difference existing between the broad 
 and the narrow school was extreme. Herder devoted his 
 studies to the popular German poetry of the fifteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries, and to Percy 'B " Reliques of Ancient 
 English Poetry," and then went on to collect specimens of 
 <f the people's songs" of all nations. 
 
 During the years 1764-69, Herder was engaged as a 
 teacher and preacher at Riga and travelled for some time in 
 France and Germany. In 1770 he went to Strassburg and 
 became acquainted with Goethe, who was there concluding 
 his studies in law. Of this early friendship of Herder and 
 Goethe the latter has given us a pleasant account. Here 
 we find the most teachable young poet of the day receiving 
 instruction from one whose genius is receptive rather than 
 creative. The teacher is a man with rounded features, dark 
 eyes, and a mouth of pleasant expression when he smiles. 
 He would be, on the whole, good-looking, but is suffering 
 from a fistula in one of his eyes, for which he is expecting 
 to undergo an operation. He wears a clerical dress, and 
 too often speaks in the dictatorial tone of a schoolmaster. 
 He has had a hard struggle with straitened circumstances 
 and has been engaged as a schoolmaster and a preacher ; but 
 his favourite studies are poetry, literary history, and the 
 history of culture. It is one of his characteristics that, in 
 his earnestness, he assumes an oracular tone which he does 
 not put aside though talking now to no ordinary student, 
 but to young Goethe, one of the original geniuses of the 
 age. What is there that the pupil has not studied ? 
 Besides Latin and Greek, he reads French, knows some- 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDER.. 93 
 
 thing of Hebrew, and lias read books on pietism , mysticism, 
 chemistry, alchemy and the fine arts. Not long ago, he 
 injured his health by his efforts to master the art of etching 
 on copper. His genius requires concentration, but Herder 
 advises him to devote himself to the study of the popular 
 poetry of all nations ! " What we want," says Herder, ' ' is 
 a poetry in harmony with the voices of all the peoples and 
 with the whole heart of mankind. Our studies must be 
 cosmopolitan, and must include the popular poetry of the 
 Hebrews, the Arabs, the mediaeval Franks, Germans, 
 Italians and Spaniards, and even the songs and ballads of 
 half savage races. We must go back to the earliest times 
 to educate ourselves, so that we may write poetry, not for a 
 school, nor for a certain period, but for all men and for 
 all time." Such teaching is rather vague, though Goethe 
 listens to it with deep interest ; but when he asks for clear 
 details he is not satisfied. Herder wishes to stimulate 
 rather than to instruct his pupil. Several of Hamann's 
 tracts, dingily printed on bad paper, are lying on the table ; 
 they have odd titles, such as " Aesthetica in Nuce" (1762), 
 and the " Socratic Memorabilia" (1759). When Goethe 
 has opened one of these tracts, and has tried to read it, he 
 finds something that attracts attention, but he cannot under- 
 stand it, and begs his friend to act as interpreter. Herder 
 only laughs and says : ' ' you must read on, and you will 
 come at last to the meaning." 
 
 There can be no doubt that Goethe was aided by Herder's 
 lessons, however rhapsodical the style might be. In the 
 course of a few years, the pupil had an opportunity of 
 showing his respect for his teacher. Herder, after leaving 
 Strassburg, was for some time engaged as a chaplain at 
 Biickeburg, and then went to Gottingen, where he hoped to 
 gain a professorship. He soon obtained a more favourable 
 position (1776), when he was recommended by Goethe, and 
 received from Karl August of Saxe- Weimar an appointment 
 as chaplain to the court and superintendent of the church 
 district of Weimar. During the years 1776-1803, when 
 
94 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Goethe and Herder were neighbours, their friendship gra- 
 dually declined. The cause is partly ascribed to the latter's 
 irritable temper. He could not well bear the presence of a 
 superior, and he never laid aside entirely the schoolmaster's 
 tone in which he used to give lectures on poetry to his 
 young pupil at Strassburg. The publication of the "Xenien " 
 widened the distance between the two authors, and other 
 causes conspired to keep them apart. "When Herder found, 
 as he believed, a want of moral earnestness in Goethe's 
 works, he regarded them with diminished admiration, while 
 he could overlook all the faults of Jean Paul, with whose 
 tendencies he sympathized. 
 
 Extensive studies, the clerical duties belonging to the 
 offices of Superintendent and President of the Consistory, 
 and endeavours for the promotion of education, supplied 
 work for Herder during the later years of his life. His 
 aims were noble ; but his efforts were spread over a field of 
 study too extensive to be well cultivated by one man. In 
 contrast with such an ideal as he held in view, he might 
 well regard his own life as a failure. His later years 
 were clouded with melancholy, and, after all his extensive 
 studies and contributions to literature, he often sighed, "Ah, 
 my wasted life \" When lying on his death-bed, he said 
 to his son : " Suggest some great thought to stir my soul." 
 These words were chosen as the motto of one of Jean Paul's 
 ideal stories. Herder died in 1803. A tablet sacred to 
 his memory had for an inscription the three words : " Life, 
 Light, Love." They have reference to a few words in a 
 parable written by Herder on the creation of man : " then 
 Life animated the dust ; Light beamed on the human face 
 divine, and Love chose his heart for her still home." 
 
 Herder's writings in prose treat mostly of these subjects : 
 literary history and criticism, education, theology, and the 
 philosophy of history. In the ' ' Ideas for a Philosophy of 
 the History of Mankind " (1784-91) he suggested the aims 
 and gave the outlines of that comprehensive study. The 
 work contains many important thoughts and some fine, 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDER. 95 
 
 enthusiastic passages, written in a style that may be defined 
 as half prose, half poetry. Like other writers including 
 Comte who have treated of the same vast theme, Herder 
 maintains that the first form in which philosophy, or a 
 general theory of life, appeared, was religion ; but he does 
 not go on to talk of an extinction of religion as a necessary 
 result of "evolution." On the contrary, he predicts that 
 religion will be the final form to which philosophy will be 
 reduced. One of the writer's aims is to induce from the 
 theory of evolution an argument in favour of the soul's 
 immortality. 
 
 Of the sermons written by Herder the few that have 
 been published are plain and practical. The author here 
 wins our respect by making literary decoration subordinate 
 to his earnest desire to teach. His writings on Education 
 deserve the same praise. In his school-lectures, collected 
 under the title " Sophron," he points to a solution of our 
 present educational problem, "the conflict of studies." 
 The solution may be found, as the author suggests, when 
 we care more for the educative quality than for the quantity 
 of instruction. We may trace Herder's influence in some 
 of the best of recent books on the science of education. 
 
 Herder's most important poetical work is "the Voices of 
 the Peoples" (1778), a series of free translations of popular 
 songs and ballads, including specimens culled from the 
 North, the North-West and the South of Europe, with old 
 German and Scandinavian songs, and some examples of 
 poetry found among half-savage tribes. In this work the 
 general tendency was one that served to awaken a cosmo- 
 politan taste in imaginative literature. The tendency was 
 developed by the brothers Schlegel and other scholars, and 
 is still one of the chief intellectual characteristics of the 
 German people. 
 
 Herder was the herald of that "world's literature" of 
 which Goethe hailed the advent. "National literature," 
 said he, "is of little importance 5 for the age of a world- 
 
96 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 literature is at hand, and every one ought to work to acce- 
 lerate .the coming of this new era. Another contribution 
 to the study of " the world's literature/' is found in Herder's 
 book on "the Spirit of Hebrew Poetry " (1782). It called 
 the attention of readers to the remarkable fact that, on 
 account of its connection with theology, the sublime poetry 
 of the Hebrew people had been less estimated as poetry 
 than it might have been, if studied apart from any theory of 
 inspiration. In the above-named, and in several other 
 works, having the same general purpose, Herder suggested 
 the idea of a new and genial treatment of literary history 
 as closely united with the history of culture. This was, 
 indeed, his great work. He gave to German culture its 
 tendency towards universality. 
 
 To estimate the importance of such a work, with regard, 
 not only to poetry but also to the interests of civilization, 
 would be a task far exceeding our limits. It may, however, 
 be noticed, that Herder's idea has greatly widened our 
 notion of writing history. Tales of dull politics and battles 
 will not now suffice as substitutes for a story of the world's 
 life. Instead of pragmatic historians, we want men who 
 will forget themselves, live in the spirit of the periods they 
 attempt to describe, and then call back again to life the 
 ages that have passed away. There is a moral interest in 
 this new direction given to historical studies, for it may 
 tend towards the promotion of peace. The most quarrelsome 
 times and peoples have been such as have had the least true 
 knowledge of, the least sympathy with, other ages and 
 nations. 
 
 Herder's original poems are less important than the free 
 versions of poetry already described. Among these " the 
 Cid" (or the Champion), which makes the nearest approach 
 to originality, is a cycle of ballads telling the adventures of 
 the Spanish hero Roderigo Diaz. In his " myths" and 
 "parables" Herder shows his love of allegory and his 
 desire to unite poetry with ethical teaching. One of the 
 

 CHAPTEE V. HERDER. 97 
 
 shortest the Child of Mercy may here be given, as a 
 specimen of the style already described as a mixture of 
 prose and poetry : 
 
 When the Almighty would create man, He called together before 
 His throne a council of the highest angels. 
 
 " Create him not !" So spoke the Angel of Justice : " he will be 
 unjust towards men, his brethren ; he will be hard and cruel in his 
 treatment of those who are weaker than himself." 
 
 " Create him not !" said the Angel of Peace : " He will saturate 
 the earth with human blood. The first-born of the race will slay his 
 brother." 
 
 " Thou mayst create him after thine own likeness, and stamp on 
 his countenance the impress of truth ; yet he will desecrate with 
 falsehood even thine own Sanctuary." So said the Angel of Truth. 
 
 And they would have said more. But Mercy, the youngest and 
 dearest child of the Eternal Father, stepped to the throne and kneeled 
 before him. 
 
 " Create him !" she prayed : " create him in thine own image, and 
 as the favoured object of thy benevolence. When all others, thy 
 ministers, forsake him, I will still be with him, will lovingly aid him, 
 and make even his errors conduce to his amelioration. I will touch 
 his heart with pity, and make him merciful to others weaker than 
 himself. When he goes astray from the way of truth and peace, 
 when he transgresses the laws of justice and equity, the results of his 
 own errors shall lead him back to the right path, and forgiving love 
 shall convert him." 
 
 Then the Father of Men created Man. . . . 
 
 Remember thy origin, O Man ! when thou art hard and un- 
 merciful. Of all God's attributes, it was Mercy that called thee into 
 existence. And still, for life and all that life includes, thou art 
 indebted to the love and pity that clasps the infant to the mother's 
 bosom. 
 
 The world will not hear of " potential great men " 
 men who " might have been great painters or great poets." 
 Yet one is tempted to think that Coleridge, if he had not 
 been buried in metaphysics, might have written a finer 
 poem than " Christabel." And it seems probable that, if 
 Herder's studies had been less comprehensive, his genius 
 might have been more creative. But, whatever his rank 
 may be, when he is distinctly estimated as a critic, or as a 
 
 7 
 
98 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 poet, or as a writer on the philosophy of history, it may be 
 safely asserted, that in the general aim of all his life's work, 
 he looked farther on and higher than all the poets and other 
 literary men who were his neighbours at Weimar. For 
 what was that aim ? Nothing less or lower than a union of 
 practical life with the highest culture and with religion. 
 The general purport of his writings on history, education, 
 and religion cannot be given in a few precise words, but 
 serves to suggest such questions as these : " What is the 
 use of an education that does not grasp the whole man? 
 What is the worth of our civilization without a higher 
 culture founded on religion ? And what is the worth of 
 religion, if it has not power to subdue this real world 
 around us ; power to permeate and transmute into a nobler 
 form our common, practical, every day existence." 
 
 What was Lessing's one guiding thought, to which we 
 have referred (p. 70) though postponing its analysis ? The 
 answer must still be deferred ; but it may be observed here, 
 that Herder, in his best thoughts on religion, comes near to 
 a solution of the question. The souls of other men have 
 been stirred by the same thoughts respecting the ultimate 
 aims of educational religion ; yet they especially belong to 
 Herder. His general influence was favourable to the 
 restoration of Christian belief, and his services since his 
 time too slightly estimated by certain critics are re- 
 markable, when we consider the character of the times in 
 which he lived. He w r as well acquainted with Spalding, 
 already named as one among the earliest and most 
 respectable of the rationalists. Herder was Kant's pupil at 
 a time when the " Kritik " was unknown ; he lived to see 
 its doctrine widely accepted, and then, with a characteristic 
 courage, he wrote against it. Meanwhile he had done a 
 great part of the work afterwards too largely ascribed to 
 Kant's criticism. As to the general tendency of their work, 
 Kant and Herder were alike in this under the name of 
 {f humanity," they introduced ethical teaching far higher 
 than the doctrine of utility, held by Spalding and other 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDER. 99 
 
 respectable men of his class ; and tbis new etbical teacbiiig 
 was in fact borrowed from Christianity. 
 
 Tbese remarks may serve to suggest an answer to a 
 question tbat bere migbt naturally arise Wby sbould 
 Herder be noticed next to Lessing? Kant was twenty 
 years older tban Herder. Tbe answer to tbe question is 
 twofold. Lessing, as we bave seen, bad suggested tbis 
 idea : tbat etbical Christianity rigbtly accepted as a 
 revelation of God's will and reason may, in tbe last result 
 of its own evolution, reduce itself to a clear, self-evident 
 law for all men ; a law written in the heart. Tbe result so 
 anticipated has its systematic exposition in Kant's ethical 
 books, published in the course of the time 1787-93; and 
 these, therefore, might claim notice next to the account 
 given of Lessing. But Kant was a systematic philosopher, 
 and it is obviously desirable that systems of philosophy 
 especially those of Kant, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel 
 should be noticed in such an order as may show their true 
 sequence. Moreover, we bave to study tbe relations of 
 culture with Christianity ; and philosophy strictly so 
 called is only one part of culture. Now in the years 
 following Lessing's decease, when Semler, Spalding, 
 Klopstock, Kant, and Mendelssohn were numbered with 
 the old men of their period, Herder was writing on Hebrew 
 poetry and on the philosophy of history ; and he was still 
 writing on poetry and philosophy in 1799-1803, when of all 
 those old friends only one was surviving. This was 
 Spalding, the rationalist, who was almost ninety years old 
 when Herder died, Dec. 1803. In the course of the years 
 1781-1803 a rapid transition was made, not alone in the 
 tone in which religious questions were discussed, but also 
 and almost contemporaneously in general culture, especially 
 in poetical literature ; and if next to Lessing any one 
 man is to be named as the chief prophet of a higher culture, 
 this man is Herder. It may be said that his work is in 
 some respects not easily defined; but it is clear that his 
 influence was great. 
 
 7 * 
 
100 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 To show the truth of this observation^ nothing more is 
 required than a brief survey of the times in which he lived. 
 Their most salient trait the rapid spread of unbelief has 
 been generally noticed; but here our radius of observation 
 may be extended, especially with reference to the academic 
 life of Herder's time, including chiefly thirty-six years of 
 his literary career. The intellectual power wielded by the 
 universities in this time was, to a large extent, employed in 
 opposition to all that is vital in religion. Biblical criticism 
 and philosophy so-called went on together hand in hand 
 in their work of destruction. Natural religion, of which so 
 much had been said, was so meanly represented as a 
 doctrine of utility and worldly prudence, that its teachings 
 could not be called religious in any distinct sense. They 
 were lower than some early forms of paganism. Of the dim 
 yet true instinct with which religion begins the wish to 
 know something of the whole, or rather of the will governing 
 the whole, to which we belong; that seeking after God 
 named by St. Paul; the instinct, a,t once divine and human, 
 leading us on toward thinking and believing in concert 
 with others; the wish to find our higher life and con- 
 sciousness continued, expanded ; to hear our own prayers 
 re-echoed in the prayers of other souls of all this incipient 
 religious thought hardly a word is said in the sermons of 
 the advanced thinkers of the time 1750-1800 the dry 
 though popular preachers among the rationalists, who might 
 have found in " Poor Eichard's Almanac " texts quite good 
 enough for their sermons. This allusion should not be 
 understood as one implying the notion that Benjamin 
 Franklin could not rise above the level of such utilitarian 
 deists as in his own day were preaching of the wisdom of 
 this world in Prussia and the neighbourhood. To several 
 among them indeed might have been addressed some 
 remarks found in one of his letters : 
 
 " Were you to succeed [in your anti- Christian reasonings] do you 
 imagine any good would be done by it? You [yourselves] may find 
 it easy to live a virtuous life, without the assistance afforded by 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDEE. 101 
 
 religion ; you having a clear perception of the advantages of virtue, 
 and the disadvantages of vice, and possessing a strength of resolution 
 sufficient to enable you to resist common temptations. But think 
 how great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men 
 and women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both sexes, 
 who have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, 
 to support their virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it 
 becomes habitual, which is the great point for its security. And 
 perhaps you are indebted to Her originally that is, to your religious 
 education, for the habits of virtue upon which you now justly value 
 yourselves. You might easily display your excellent talents of 
 reasoning upon a less hazardous subject. . . . For among us it is not 
 necessary as among the Hottentots that a youth to be raised into 
 the company of men, should prove his manhood by beating his 
 mother." 
 
 Franklin's last hint, given in this passage, was one much 
 required by the deists of his time, whose ethics, when good 
 for anything, were mostly borrowed from the faith they 
 despised. Its motives they could not borrow, and con- 
 sequently their moral maxims were but fingers of a hand 
 cut off from all connection with the heart. He must know 
 little of mankind who does not see, that motives are more 
 wanted than maxims. Eeligion is emphatically truth urgently 
 required by "all men," and neglect of this fact is the 
 greatest error of our modern treatises on religious philosophy. 
 In Herder's time that is during the active years of his 
 life the error had assumed in Germany a peculiar form. 
 There was a history of religion, discussed in the universities, 
 and for the common people there was a morality that it 
 was supposed represented the whole substance of Chris- 
 tianity, and would be made clearer and more practical when 
 separated at once from the history and the doctrine of 
 religion. For a time, the two subjects practical morality 
 and historical religion thus divided, seemed mutually in- 
 dependent, and Sender's notion that Christian history and 
 doctrine might be reduced to a minimum, or be altogether 
 exploded, without doing much harm to morals seemed to 
 have something to say in its own behalf. Meanwhile 'the 
 light so called was spread forth from tlje universities; 
 
102 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 the ancient sanctions of private and social morality were 
 destroyed ; the results of unbelief were made apparent, 
 first and most glaringly in Berlin and its neighbourhood, 
 and later in and around nearly all the universities of North 
 Germany. At the same time opposition was excited. The 
 victory seemed won on the rationalistic side; and yet a 
 conflict followed, of which the story mostly remains to be 
 told. First may be noticed more distinctly the rapid 
 progress of negation made in several of the universities 
 during Herder's time. 
 
 The spread of the new teaching especially in the time 
 1770-1800 may be made readily apparent by means of a 
 shaded map of Prussia and its neighbouring states. Let 
 depth of shade serve to distinguish the districts where 
 enlightenment least prevailed. Then the central point of 
 light will be Berlin, and the radiance will be seen spreading 
 forth over Halle and Frankfurt-on-the-Oder ; less brightly 
 over Hanover, Leipzig, and Wittenberg; and leaving 
 in comparative darkness the regions lying further off on the 
 south and the south-east of Prussia. 
 
 From Halle once the home of pietism unbelief was 
 very widely spread. Tubingen in our own times made so 
 prominent by its school of biblical criticism remained 
 firmly orthodox throughout the years of innovation. Here 
 Lilienthal studied theology; later he was appointed 
 professor at Konigsberg another home of orthodox 
 teaching where Herder attended his lectures. At Gottin- 
 gen the eminent orientalist, J. D. Michaelis, though classed 
 with men of the old school, was regarded by intelligent 
 critics as a friend more dangerous than a foe. They com- 
 plained that, in his expositions of the scriptures, he 
 treated their contents as coldly as an accountant treats 
 figures, when posting accounts in which he has no personal 
 interest. But Gottingen retained on the whole a fair 
 character as to belief until 1788, when Eichorn began to 
 lecture here, and clearly displayed the unbelief that as 
 many suspected had been masked by the learning of his 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDER. 103 
 
 teacher, J. D. Michaelis. Next to Gottingen, the universities 
 of Helmstadt, Erlangen, and Jena should be named, as 
 centres of neologicai teaching, though at Jena, as at 
 Gottingen, there remained until the close of the century 
 several quiet men who, while refusing to advance in the 
 way of innovation, mostly avoided everything that could 
 lead to controversy. They understood well the only terms 
 on which men of their class might, in their day, be allowed 
 to live in peace. At Helmstadt the work initiated by 
 Semler was vigorously prosecuted by Teller and Henke 
 the latter remarkable as a true follower of Semler, especially 
 in the treatment of ecclesiastical history. At Erlangen one 
 man of the old school, Seiler, remained like Abdiel, faithful, 
 from 1770 until 1807. He had to encounter it was said 
 some considerable persecution or reprobation, while neology 
 was more and more boldly spread there by other professors, 
 including such men as Kosenmuller, Bertholdt, and Ammon. 
 At Rostock the progress of innovation was comparatively 
 slow until the last decennium of the century. Kiel also 
 remained apparently orthodox for a considerable time ; but 
 the tranquillity ruling here was more apparent than real. 
 Of the three Hessian universities Marburg, Kinteln, and 
 Giessen the last-named was the first in accepting the 
 principles of neology, here boldly asserted by several 
 professors in the course of the years 1770-90; afterwards 
 maintained with greater resources of learning by Schmidt, 
 author of a History of the Church. 
 
 Of Heidelberg little can be told ; for in Herder's time it 
 was not exclusively Protestant. After 1806, when the 
 Catholic faculty was removed to Freiburg, theology at 
 Heidelberg was mostly represented by rationalists among 
 them Paulus but here also Daub and Marheinecke began 
 their philosophical defence of Christianity, and some 
 restoration of belief took place. This, however, did not 
 belong to Herder's time. Shortly before the close of the 
 century, when he looked around him, he saw rationalism 
 almost everywhere victorious. 
 
104 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Movements of thought that seem highly important to 
 professors and students in universities, are sometimes such 
 as are hardly known or felt in the great world of practical 
 life. This was the case in England, about the time 1835-40, 
 though the questions then earnestly discussed in Oxford 
 have in later years led to profound divisions of public 
 opinion. But in North Germany 1770-1800 there 
 occurred contemporaneously great changes in academic 
 teaching and in public opinion. The new teaching that 
 religion would lose nothing valuable when reduced to a 
 code of morals, and made easy in practice as well as in 
 theory was simultaneously made clear by professors,, 
 recommended by popular preachers, and made still more 
 popular by the series of publications issued by Nicolai and 
 other writers of his school. 
 
 Such were the intellectual circumstances of the times 
 when Herder produced his more remarkable writings 
 especially his " Ideas on the Philosophy of History." 
 Speaking without special reference to any Christian 
 doctrines, it might then be truly said, that as regards the 
 faith of the educated classes religion itself was almost 
 extinct in many districts of North Germany. Herder, in 
 one of his sermons, confirms the truth of this description. 
 But he was by nature an enthusiast one of those men who 
 must have a religion of some kind and, left in these 
 circumstances, he accordingly made a religion for himself. 
 Of this the leading idea was a universal culture of humanity. 
 It was an enlargement of Lessing's idea respecting the 
 religion of the future ; for that was apparently an idea of 
 education chiefly ethical. Herder's idea includes with a 
 philosophical study of history such a devotion to all true 
 culture and progress as can be inspired only by an 
 enthusiastic hope of the future. For the ethical character 
 of Christianity, Herder, no doubt, entertained at all times a 
 sincere respect; but his enthusiasm reminds us chiefly of 
 Rousseau, whose writings he had diligently studied. And 
 more and more in the course of Herder's later years, his 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDEE. 
 
 105 
 
 
 new idea of evolution seemed to take the place of religion. 
 In the expansion of this one idea he anticipated the general 
 notion of Darwin's theory, and suggested studies that since 
 his day have been zealously prosecuted; especially historical 
 and philosophical studies respecting the languages, litera- 
 tures, and religions of various nations. It is true, that as his 
 own thoughts of such studies were initiative, so his forms of 
 expression were often vague, or more poetic than scientific ; 
 yet they served well to disturb certain fixed and arbitrary 
 notions remaining in his day. For example, when some old 
 tradition or custom of any people had been labelled 
 " superstition/' it was at once cast aside, as a matter not 
 worth further inquiry ; and so fetischism was at once 
 dismissed, when it had been defined as a " worship of stocks 
 and stones/' But such inquiry as was suggested by Herder 
 has led to the discovery that religions widely different still 
 retain such traits of likeness as may suggest, though dimly, 
 the general character of their common original. This is 
 but one of many results to which Herder's ideas have 
 led. 
 
 The vast expanse of his studies may be indicated by 
 naming the subjects of a few among their divisions. One 
 has to show that religion is true humanity ; another makes 
 it clear that the most refined pleasures are the most 
 enduring ; a third asserts that our clearest and best know- 
 ledge is the result of intuition ; and in a fourth we learn, 
 how, in the gradual creation of the earth, there may be 
 observed a continuous ascending series of forms and ener- 
 gies. Yet all these and other subjects of inquiry, as viewed 
 by Herder, belonged to one plan of culture, and all are 
 inspired by an enthusiasm such as might attend the procla- 
 mation of a new religion. "Was this ideal of culture 
 intended by the author to expand, or to supersede such 
 Christianity as remained extant in his time? In his 
 writings the question is nowhere thus distinctly put ; 
 accordingly no precise answer will be found there. Yet an 
 answer approximately true may be suggested. 
 
106 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 In Herder's view, the educational religion that is to 
 prevail in the future is a universal culture of humanity a 
 culture of every higher faculty belonging distinctly to man. 
 Knowledge of the highest kind must as Herder believed 
 ever be associated with reverence. It may therefore be 
 expected that as men learn more and more of the universe 
 to which they belong, and of the true evolution of their 
 own nature, they will also become more and more liberated 
 from self-love, more reverent, dutiful, and devoted to the 
 whole life or general welfare of humanity. And as know- 
 ledge will lead to religion, so devotion and obedience with 
 submission to every individual sacrifice demanded by the 
 general design of Providence will lead us on to clearer 
 insight and to higher hope respecting the future, which 
 belongs to us, because we belong to humanity. It has, no 
 doubt, been observed, that nothing is said here of sin 
 nothing of the main question to which a true religion must 
 give a true answer. 
 
 This summary or bird's-eye view of Herder's philosophy 
 makes it evident that its predominant idea is optimistic and 
 distinctly Pelagian. It remains true that the general tone of 
 his enthusiasm was favourable to the restoration of belief; 
 but his philosophy could supply no direct aid or evidence in 
 favour of Christianity. Where the main question to which 
 religion should give an answer is thus suppressed, there can 
 be excited no such inquiry as might lead to the truth. On 
 one occasion, at least, Herder wrote to the effect, that reli- 
 gion itself must be perpetuated and expanded, though it 
 does not follow that it should always be called the Christian 
 religion. It is remarkable how often this same thought has 
 in substance been expressed by eminent writers Jacobi, 
 Goethe, and Fichte ; but especially by Strauss. The idea on 
 which it is founded is really nothing more than the truism 
 that " nature does not expend all her resources in the 
 production of a single type." 
 
 The remark is nothing more than the bare suggestion of 
 an argument that might be based upon natural and historical 
 
CHAPTEE V. HERDER. 107 
 
 analogies. The wealth and beauty of vegetation are~not 
 finally displayed in any one flower, or tree, or in any one 
 forest. So in human history, no hero is so great that he 
 does not leave room for a succession of heroes in later^tiine. 
 And so even in the sphere of ethics ; though we speak of 
 eternal bases of morals, yet one moral teacher, or one school 
 of morals, must make room for another. All this is true, 
 and moreover trite. It can serve however as the basis of an 
 argument against the finality of the Christian religion ; but 
 only so Icng as this religion is regarded merely as one 
 though the best of moral systems ; or so long as its Author 
 is viewed only as one though the highest of ethical 
 teachers. And that this, at one time, was in substance 
 Herder's own view of his own religion, we are assured 
 though not everywhere with perfect clearness by several 
 passages in his writings. In his lines " Am stillen Freitag" 
 (on Good Friday) he must have said more, if he had felt and 
 believed more. The return of that day reminds him how a 
 life of supreme beneficence, holy obedience, and profound 
 suffering, was closed in perfect resignation and patience; and 
 the poet prays that his own life and death may in due 
 lowliness be imitative of that example. He says no more. 
 Turning again to Herder's prose writings it is well 
 known that he is no systematic or doctrinal writer. He 
 speaks as one endowed with intuition, and sees the truth so 
 far as he sees it as if by a kind of divination. Yet there 
 are passages where he speaks clearly enough respecting the 
 limitations of his belief. The following may serve as 
 examples : 
 
 " Christianity, originally founded on self-denial, remains firmly based 
 on the same ground, and is invincible in the midst of persecution and 
 contempt." " To Him now enthroned it is an indifferent question : 
 Shall His name be repeated in endless litanies, or [be forgotten] ?" 
 . . . "Though His name be left in silence, everyone who knows 
 how to distinguish between dross and gold, will by silent imitation of 
 His example, still revere, in his own prescribed way, the Hero of 
 philanthropy, the stillest of all benefactors of his race. As to the name 
 ' Christian ' let it remain, or let it pass that can matter little. Puri- 
 
108 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 fied from all dross, His religion will remain as the religion of humanity ." 
 ..." To give aid where no other aid can be found ; to compassionate 
 mankind, wherever lying prostrate, afflicted with maladies earthly or 
 spiritual this is Christianity. Its germs, scattered here and there in 
 good actions unobserved here lying under the snow, or there spring- 
 ing up among thorns will surely bring forth fruit that will at last be 
 recognized by Christ, and will be gathered in with His harvest. It is 
 Christian beneficence that hitherto has upheld the [civilized] world, 
 and it will not pass away. The future of humanity will consist in [the 
 evolution of] what still remains with us of genuine and real Chris- 
 tianity. This alone can perpetuate itself and live on for ever the 
 true religion of humanity." 
 
 It might be suggested in this place that the writer's 
 views, expressed in these sentences, are to some extent self- 
 contradictory ; but our sole aim here is to quote a few 
 passages characteristic of Herder's general belief. There 
 might be borrowed from his sermons sentences in which he 
 expresses with deep feeling a sense of 'the difficulty of his 
 position as a Christian pastor. In one, for example, he 
 addresses serious words of admonition to himself, and next 
 calls to mind some examples of fidelity afforded by his pre- 
 decessors, of whom the chief is especially named ; then 
 follow these remarkable words : 
 
 " But why do I not rather mention the Lord of lords, the King of 
 kings, the Holy One, and Protector of all human souls, Jesus Christ 
 . . . why do I not mention Him, as He stands here, where more than 
 ' two or three are gathered together ' in His name, and call on Him ? 
 He stands here in our midst, pointing to His own word and His own 
 congregation, and saying : * I have bought and gained these with my 
 blood. Take care of these, and all over whom thou hast been placed 
 as shepherd and guardian, that none of these may be lost whom I 
 commit to thee none of these who are like stars in my hand, and 
 whose names are written in my heart and on my breast.' " 
 
 The passage is quoted, not as a fair example of Herder's 
 tone, either in preaching or in writing ; on the contrary as 
 one exceptional, but especially as one containing a remark- 
 able question " Why do I not mention Him?" a question 
 strongly characteristic of the time when, and the place 
 Weimar where the sermon was delivered. It is impossible, 
 in reading these words, to forget the prediction : that in 
 
CHAPTEE V. HERDER. 109 
 
 certain times and places, there would be felt a temptation of 
 a peculiar nature a sense of shame, or fear, attending every 
 attempt toward making a Christian confession. 
 
 A consideration of the two passages quoted and placed in 
 contrast, will indicate the nature of the change that led to 
 Herder's later religious teaching. This has been described 
 as mostly humanitarian ; but one word cannot tell all that 
 ought to be told, to show the true character and the 
 importance of Herder's position as regards the union of 
 Christianity and culture. He was not a clear writer ; he 
 mingled too often the free style and phraseology of poetry 
 with the strict method and careful use of language required 
 by scientific and didactic writing ; he but partly unveiled 
 some speculative views that, since his time, have been clearly 
 displayed. All these items of adverse criticism, and many 
 others like them, are true; yet they do not lessen the 
 interest and importance of Herder's intermediate position 
 as representative, partly of the age immediately preceding 
 his own, and partly of that which followed. 
 
 That he retained traits of the earlier time is true. This 
 humanitarian teaching might be vaguely described as a 
 continuation and expansion of the utilitarian teaching found 
 in the pages of such writers as Jerusalem, Spalding, and 
 Zollikofer ; but Herder belonged not wholly to their school 
 a school including the most respectable of all the Lutheran 
 pastors who were classed with the rationalists. Herder 
 retained, with the ethics of the Christian religion, all 'the 
 enthusiasm and glow of life that can remain united with its 
 teaching, when its central tenet has been rejected. When 
 he spoke, in terms that might be called Utopian, respecting 
 the prospects of " humanity " his favourite word he was 
 speaking of the highest results that in some far distant day 
 may be visible, when ethical Christianity shall be united with 
 a universal culture of mankind's highest faculties. Later 
 writers, who have talked of scientific and aesthetic culture, 
 as likely to supply a substitute for religion at least among 
 men of high education have not advanced a step beyond 
 
110 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Herder's position; on the contrary they have made a 
 retrograde movement, just so far as they have denied what 
 he wished to maintain. In his picture of future humanity, 
 the earth is to be vastly enriched and beautifully adorned 
 with all the products of man's genius, skill, and industry ; but 
 the warmth and light that will then invigorate and cheer 
 humanity is still to descend from heaven. In a word, he 
 never dreams of separating earth from heaven human life 
 from religion but of uniting them more and more closely. 
 Extended culture he assures us will lead to expanded 
 views of religious duty, while the peace and welfare insured by 
 practical religion will of course be favourable to the progress 
 of culture ; and the general result of the whole process will 
 be the realization of a new world where of all that will be 
 seen it will be truly said : Trdwra Oela KOI dvOptomva irdvra. 
 On what basis rests the hope so widely expanded ? He 
 partly answers the question in the chief writings of his later 
 years 1784-91 where to some extent he expands the idea 
 of evolution, as the means by which our present world has 
 arisen out of the past. tf From the stone to the crystal " 
 he writes "from the crystal to the metal; from the 
 metal on to various forms of vegetation, and hence on to 
 diversified forms of animal life we see everywhere developed 
 manifold forms of organization displaying themselves in an 
 ascending series." . . . " Throughout the whole series 
 there prevails a general likeness to one fundamental type, 
 which however varied in the forms of its evolution makes 
 approaches nearer and nearer to the human form ; and as 
 likeness to this form more and more prevails, so in due 
 proportion we observe that a nearer and still nearer approach 
 is made to the display of such rational faculties as belong to 
 man/' . . . "The ultimate design, we see at last, is the 
 development of the rational faculties, the freedom, and the 
 humanity of mankind." The use of the word Ck humanity " 
 in this place is not tautological, as it might at first appear ; 
 but is explained when the writer goes on to assert that his 
 theory of evolution leads him finally to a belief in the 
 
CHAPTER V. HEEDEE. Ill 
 
 immortality of the soul. " No force is ever lost/' he says, 
 " however forms may change and disappear." He thus goes 
 on speaking apparently of the immortality of the individual 
 soul 
 
 " And shall that force be lost which we are compelled to regard as 
 the purest, the most active of all the forces of which we have any 
 knowledge ? Shall the power be annihilated that overcomes and makes 
 subordinate to itself the forces deployed in lower forms of organiza- 
 tion the power that can behold and even overrule itself that can 
 know, love, imitate G-od?" 
 
 A critic possessing even Lessing's analytic skill, would 
 find some difficulty in the task of giving a clear summary of 
 Herder's religious views, In many instances, one of his 
 passages might be set in contrast against another. In his 
 ethical principles he remains Christian. His writings repre- 
 sent no system, but a world of thoughts, sentiments, and 
 beliefs, where as regards authority there is no centre. 
 It has already been observed that his doctrine respecting 
 mediation is Pelagian, though apparent exceptions to the 
 rule may be found in his earlier writings. Taking his 
 writings as a whole their doctrine, or series of doctrines, 
 their moral tone, their general tendency toward a union of 
 high culture with practical religion they especially deserve 
 notice ; they are at once characteristic of the time when he 
 lived, and representative of tendencies that have been 
 developed in our own age. 
 
 Few now read Herder's discursive writings, but it is clear 
 that they have been extensively read, for almost the whole 
 of the teaching contained in them has been repeated in 
 clearer forms of expression. Setting aside books that may 
 be called abstruse our lighter essays and reviews, of which 
 the chief characteristic is a union of religion with some free- 
 dom of speculation, are to a large extent reproductions of 
 Herder's own ideas, or of thoughts that have been suggested 
 by his writings. There was prevalent in his day, though 
 only among men of extreme opinions, a notion that the 
 Christian religion, and all that belongs to it, might be 
 
112 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 suddenly abolished, so that the civilized world, as regards 
 the very bases of society, might begin denovowiih institutions 
 founded on reason alone. The idea of that violent and 
 destructive rationalism then belonged more to France than to 
 Germany, and now is everywhere exploded among thought- 
 ful men, however strong may be their love of innovation and 
 progress however much they may be inclined toward 
 treating men as now sufficiently educated by centuries of 
 submission to Christian teaching, and as well- able to guide 
 themselves by the light of experience and reason. There is 
 now very widely spread in Germany, in France, and in 
 England, a new rationalism, in theory as in general character 
 more moderate and more plausible than the revolutionary 
 doctrine spread so rapidly in Europe about a century ago. 
 For the sake of brevity, it might perhaps be pardoned, if 
 this new rationalism was called a faith in evolution a faith 
 of which the nucleus is found in Herder's later writings ; 
 especially in his ideas on the philosophy of history. 
 
 His later ideas of ethics if the word may include all that 
 is intended by his own word "humanity" are clearer than 
 his religious teaching, which seems perplexing, when his 
 earlier and his later writings are compared together. The 
 later may be so interpreted as to lead to the conclusion that 
 human nature considered in itself, or viewed apart from 
 every thought of supernatural mediation is per se in con- 
 cord with all that is recognized as divine. Accordingly, 
 all the liberation that can be required by humanity is attain- 
 able by means of its own evolution, and moral evil may be 
 viewed as a temporary limitation. This is suggested as an 
 interpretation of Herder's later doctrine, and as one that in 
 some degree is justified, partly by the writer's silence re- 
 specting well-known objections to his theory; and especially 
 by his observations on Kant's clear teaching respecting the 
 " radical evil " which as he asserts is inherent in our 
 human nature. This teaching Herder in his later writings 
 rejects ; he even describes it as " something fantastic." 
 On the other hand, the admission that man is conscious 
 
CHAPTER V. HERDER. 113 
 
 of sinfulness, and requires liberation, is regarded still by 
 multitudes including philosophers as well as theologians 
 as a first postulate, a sine qua non, without which there can 
 be no true idea of the Christian religion. Its first appeal to 
 the heart assumes the facts as granted : that man finds him- 
 self bound by the power of evil inherent in himself ; that he 
 requires liberation, and would liberate himself but cannot. 
 
 It is agreed by his biographers that Herder in his later 
 years was less and less enthusiastic, and some writers have 
 spoken perhaps rather too boldly respecting a general 
 change of a negative character observed in the expression 
 of his religious sentiments. With too little caution for- 
 getting for a moment the danger of hasty judgment 
 they have also noticed the coincidence that Herder, near 
 the close of his life, was afflicted with a melancholy that 
 was more than a passing cloud. This was partly constitu- 
 tional. It may be observed here that the circumstances 
 attending his position at Weimar, though apparently envi- 
 able in some secular respects, were not altogether favourable 
 to religious culture. He was a man for whom imaginative 
 literature, though classical, was not a good substitute for 
 faith. 
 
 In the closing hours of his life there was observed in 
 him a brief revival of the enthusiasm that had once inspired 
 his studies, and he expressed the wish that his soul and 
 mind might be once more pervaded by the presence of 
 some sublime idea. te l feel," said he, " that then I might 
 
 recover." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JACOBI AND HIS FEIENDS. 
 
 THAT a tendency toward some restoration of belief was 
 here and there shown in Herder's time is true ; and it is 
 made more apparent when we come to notice the farther 
 extended life especially the later years of his friend 
 Jacobi, who died in 1819. He was a man whose position, 
 as regards the old contest of faith a,nd reason, has sometimes 
 been described in paradoxical terms. It has been said he 
 was a philosopher without a plan of philosophy, and a 
 Christian without faith in Christianity. 
 
 The facts so boldly exaggerated are these : he was a 
 sincere and earnest inquirer sometimes bewildered and 
 almost confounded by the contradictions of his time but 
 so far as he had any faith, it was Christian in its tendency. 
 His time of active life say 1770-1812 was an age pre- 
 eminent for its confusion in the world of opinions. Semler 
 who died in 1791 might, if his life had been spared 
 somewhat longer, have felt himself at home j for then might 
 have been quoted more appropriately than in his notices 
 of the Early Church his favourite observation " nothing 
 is so remarkable as this endless diversity of opinions ." It 
 was in Germany, as well as in France, an age of revolution. 
 Six or seven schools of philosophy in Germany then rivalled, 
 in their speed of succession, about as many schools of 
 political opinion in France. 
 
 In such a time Jacobi could find nothing firm but faith 
 a faith that in its general tendency was Christian, while as 
 regards its strict limitation, it must be called his own. The 
 literary men of his age noticed here only as regards their 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 115 
 
 religious belief, and omitting all details of their differences 
 might be divided into two classes : the negative men, 
 and those well disposed towards the Christian faith. First 
 and most prominent among the negative men were the 
 rationalistic professors, preachers, and journalists, whose 
 work has been described. Their reasonings were mostly 
 clear, and their positive results utilitarian morals were 
 such as might be readily understood. Another of their 
 advantages was this it so happened that their forces 
 were comparatively centralized and well placed in battle 
 array. On the other side, there were not a few men 
 endowed with deep thought, and some possessing genius, 
 who respected religion; but they were rather widely scat- 
 tered here and there, and were associated only by a common 
 sympathy. 
 
 At Berlin, Nicolai, as an able editor, led on a compact 
 band of freethinkers, whose work had been greatly aided by 
 the bad influence of the Court there to say nothing of the 
 mischief spread by the minor, imitative courts, where petty 
 princes and their favourites studied French philosophy and 
 read Wieland's loose fictions. Goethe, in his memoirs of 
 early years, tells much of the time, and especially indicates 
 its generally irreverent character. He describes himself as 
 listening, at one time, to the ribaldry of Basedow ; then as 
 half converted by the pietistic appeals of Lavater ; then as 
 calling to talk with Jacobi, and listening long past midnight 
 to the strains of his mystic philosophy. When the later 
 religious views of Goethe are noticed, it should not be 
 forgotten that, in the course of his youthful years, he was 
 hardly acquainted intimately with any one person who could 
 be described as a sober and intelligent Christian. 
 
 To say nothing of orthodoxy, men called religious were 
 comparatively rare among those who had gained names in 
 literature. Klopstock was living at Hamburg ; Hamann at 
 Konigsberg ; Herder at Weimar ; Claudius at Wandsbeck 
 (in Holstein) ; Leopold von Stolberg at Windebye (in 
 Schleswig) ; and Lavater when he was not wandering 
 
 8 * 
 
116 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 about to convert others, or to find confirmation of his own 
 faith was mostly living at Zurich. All these men were 
 numbered with the intimate friends of Jacobi. No student 
 can have any true knowledge of the change respecting reli- 
 gious ideas that took place in Germany, in 1770-1800, if he 
 fail to make himself acquainted with the circle of Jacobi 
 and his friends. Their special opinions were heterogeneous ; 
 yet they were all agreed in one conviction that rationalism, 
 however clear, and to many acceptable, as reducing religion 
 to a minimum, could not give rest to the soul. It was at 
 best, they said, only the result of an understanding closely 
 limited. Against it they urged the fact that multitudes in 
 all ages had found rest in the deeper faith now contemned 
 by men calling themselves enlightened. For this fact, they 
 said, we are not able to give a reason such as our opponents 
 will accept, and therefore we are content to say that the 
 fundamental principle on which we rest is faith. This in 
 general terms was the common confession of Jacobi' s more 
 believing friends ; but his own confession was more closely 
 limited, On the ground of faith he asserted the authority 
 of pure Christian ethics, while he regarded Christianity on 
 the whole with cordial admiration and one might almost 
 say with reverent love. Yet he would not or could not 
 call himself a Christian. 
 
 In the days when Goethe, Herder, and Jacobi might 
 still be called young men, literature in our day an arena of 
 competition was a delightful field of recreation; and 
 friendly co-operation was in several instances more notice- 
 able than rivalry. Indeed the friendships of literary men, 
 though sometimes rather shallow, might be classed with the 
 more pleasing traits of the period. The men who still had 
 a common friendly feeling toward t ' the old religion " so 
 Christianity was sometimes described were, as we have 
 seen, rather widely scattered in their several localities, and 
 accordingly were glad to find centres where they might now 
 and then meet together. Of all their meeting-places 
 Pempelfort nea-r Diisseldorf for some years Jacobi's 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 117 
 
 residence was one of the pleasantest ; especially for men 
 who liked philosophical discussion. Here Hamann would 
 sit as a patient listener, while Jacobi would describe some 
 difficulty of escape out of the logic of Spinoza. Still the 
 faith of the former would remain imperturbable, and he 
 would speak in reply of the \6joc 6eloi against which no 
 logic can prevail, while Jacobi would envy the repose of 
 faith enjoyed by his mystic friend. " Deep thought makes 
 one tolerant," said Jacobi on one occasion, and the saying 
 tells not a little of his character. He was in the firmer 
 part of his belief which, as he thought, was the whole 
 a theist of the highest class, and a believer in an immediate 
 divine revelation of truth, as taking place in the soul of 
 every true inquirer, and as independent of all such aid as 
 the Christian faith, or any other positive religion, can 
 supply. This was his own religious position; yet the 
 friends with whom he best loved to converse were such men 
 as in their time were called men of blind faith, or 
 enthusiasts, or even fanatics Hamann, Claudius, and 
 Lavater and their faith was regarded by him as a position 
 stronger and safer than his own. This makes his character 
 remarkable and interesting. Though sometimes, when 
 vexed by controversy, he was led too far into a declamatory 
 way of writing, he was on the whole a calm and dis- 
 passionate inquirer. Few men have, throughout a long life, 
 preserved such noble purity of intention as was seen in 
 Jacobi. 
 
 FEIEDEICH HEINRICH JACOBI, born in 1743, was the son 
 of a rather wealthy merchant living at Diisseldorf, and in, 
 his youth received a mercantile education, in order that he 
 might there carry on his father's lucrative business. In 
 this however he found no pleasure; and he soon retired 
 from it, to devote himself to a studious life. Strange to 
 say in his time above all, in a position like his own he 
 cared more for the soul than the body ; more for the world 
 unseen and mostly called the future, than for the world 
 seen in a physical sense, and called real and present. If 
 
118 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 this disposition had been made manifest in the youth of a 
 man called, in later life, to assume an official religious 
 position, his reasonings so far as favourable to religion- 
 would in Jacobins time have been called hypocritical. In 
 his case, the charge was impossible. There is a peculiar 
 interest in the study of his spiritual experience thus may 
 be described his so-called philosophy for everything here 
 is at least an item in an honest confession. His writings 
 give us at least the true thoughts of one earnest, inquiring 
 man respecting religion. Possibly, all that he said in 
 favour of Christianity may as regards quantity be called 
 little, but its quality is genuine. 
 
 After 1776, when his income was increased by his 
 marriage, he retired from business, to his estate and 
 country-house at Pempelfort ; and here his chief delights 
 were to surround himself with congenial friends mostly 
 literary men and to devote his leisure to philosophical 
 studies, especially those relating to religious questions. 
 Spinozism was for Jacobi something like a dreaded spectre, 
 that haunted him when employed in his own speculations ; 
 and he perhaps sometimes suspected its existence, where it 
 did not exist. This was the case in the account he gave of 
 Lessing's later views. Yet there might be something of 
 foreboding in Jacobins fear of Spinoza. Since his day it is 
 remarkable how many thoughtful men having rejected 
 Christ's own revelation have been led into theories more 
 or less like Spinozism. The quiet time spent by Jacobi at 
 Pempelfort was disturbed by fears of a French invasion ; 
 and in 1794 he went to live in Holstein, where again 
 he found a circle of congenial friends, including Claudius, 
 and the brothers Stolberg. In 1804 Jacobi was elected 
 President of the New Academy at Munich, where he died 
 in 1819. 
 
 Jacobi's works, as published in 1812-24, fill six octavo 
 volumes, and yet it may be said, he never wrote a book. 
 His want of method is almost as remarkable as his sincerity; 
 but his insight is often clear, as may be seen in his 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS PEIENDS. 119 
 
 polemical writings; especially those relating to certain 
 errors in the systems of Kant and Fichte. 
 
 Jacobi contends strongly that man requires the aid of a 
 divine revelation ; and he admits fully that the teaching of 
 Christ is divine. Yet he refuses to accept it as the one 
 revelation of divine truth required by mankind. At the 
 same time he confesses that he finds no repose in his own 
 philosophy. In his boyhood he began to inquire earnestly 
 respecting the immortality and destination of his soul. All 
 through life he was still asking for a sure reply to his 
 questionings. Without violent paradox it might be said of 
 him, that he was a believing sceptic, or a sceptical believer. 
 Near the close of his life, he was accidentally overheard 
 when expressing his thanks for the mercy that he was still 
 enabled and permitted to pray, and to find in grace his sole 
 defence and ultimate hope. He was to the last a praying- 
 philosopher. 
 
 The correspondence of Jacobi and his friends has pre- 
 served too many letters of ephemeral interest, but tells 
 much of the deeper and more religious tendencies felt in his 
 time. Among genial and sympathetic men there prevailed 
 in many instances a sadness something like the melancholy 
 of Lessing and Herder a sense of drear vacuity, not often 
 expressed as strongly as it was by one of their contem- 
 poraries Schubart, who wrote an autobiography. (< Spald- 
 ing, Semler, and Teller " he says " these were the men 
 we had for our guides, in our inquiring, youthful days ; and 
 they destroyed our faith, hope, and love ; they robbed us 
 of our consolation in life, in suffering, in dying ; and they 
 have left us here desolate as we are. Oh, that the Christian 
 religion were true ! But, alas ! it is not, they tell me. 
 And what then is true ? I am plunged in deep melancholy." 
 These words expressed feelings shared by many; and 
 Jacobi was one of the number. To say nothing of any one 
 creed there was felt a common want of sober and practical 
 religion. 
 
 The friend to whom Jacobi chiefly looked up for religious 
 
120 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 aid and guidance was Hamann, whose original character 
 has been already partly noticed in the account given of 
 Herder. There the influence of Hamann' s teaching respect- 
 ing the culture of poetry has been described as animating 
 and suggestive, though by no means clear ; here something 
 to the same general effect must be said of his religious 
 teaching. He was evidently one of those men whose per- 
 sonal influence was something more than can be made clear 
 by a perusal of their writings. The same might be said of 
 such men as Lavater and Jung- Stilling as Herder and 
 Goethe have noticed, especially respecting the former. 
 Where personal faith and enthusiasm are remarkably mani- 
 fested in a man's own life and character, it is difficult to 
 transmit an adequate idea of his influence, even when he is 
 one of those exceptional men who have the power of literary 
 self-interpretation ; and it is of course more difficult when 
 this power is deficient. It was so far deficient in Hamann, 
 that the extent of his influence in his own age is a fact to 
 be asserted, but not to be described. 
 
 JOHANN GEORGE HAMANN was born in 1 730 at Konigsberg. 
 His life excepting two or three years near the close was 
 a series of adversities. At one time, when his own practical 
 errors had brought him into circumstances of extreme 
 misery, his mental suffering was intense. This crisis as 
 we are told in his autobiography was followed by an 
 almost sudden sense of deliverance, which he always after- 
 wards ascribed to a supernatural source. On this fact in 
 his own experience was founded his faith, which was asserted 
 with great firmness, and in opposition to all the unbelief of 
 his time. He was thus led to a contempt of all philosophy 
 indeed to a defiance of all reasonings, so far as they came 
 into collision with his faith. It is hardly too much to say 
 that Hamann hated logic and philosophy, though it is 
 clear that he knew something about them. His reading 
 had been too discursive ; his course of studies if such 
 terms can be allowed in his case had been " a maze/' and 
 * without a plan." His writings to use the words of his 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 121 
 
 own confession were so chaotic that he himself could not 
 always understand them. And yet there is a general 
 meaning in them. Religion, he tells us, is our deliverance 
 from our sense of guilt from our consciousness of oppo- 
 sition to God and where the whole character and aim of 
 religion are at the outset misunderstood where it is first 
 of all assumed that Christian faith is to be forced upon us 
 by dint of mathematical evidence there the end of all our 
 logical inquiries will be an increase of controversy and con- 
 fusion. Religion neither begins nor ends in the head. For 
 the cold logician no texts will be convincing ; proofs will 
 lead only to further doubts. For me a sinner seeking 
 deliverance " almost any texts of Holy Scripture were 
 good enough at that time/' says Hamann. ..." Was not 
 Jeremiah, the prophet, drawn up safely out of his dungeon 
 by means of old rags put under his arms ?" This may 
 serve at least as an example of Hamann's strange blending 
 of humour with his earnestness, which is a trait especially 
 his own so far serious that it can hardly be called humour ; 
 yet often too grotesque to be quoted in connection with any 
 serious argument. 
 
 To an English reader the question may seem natural 
 " Why should an original like Hamann be so long remem- 
 bered ?" The reply is this because he affirmed, though he 
 did not demonstrate, the existence and the moral force of 
 certain intuitions or say moral instincts that in all ordi- 
 nary times have been retained as the most precious endow- 
 ments of humanity; nay, to use Herder's words, as the 
 very humanity of humanity. Our highest thought of God 
 of all that is worthy of his character is not ours in a 
 private sense ; we do not possess it ; it possesses us ; it is 
 God's own thought, made known to us perhaps dimly, in 
 the depth of our own conscience hence, when we see any 
 reflection of it, we recognize it ; hence we know that it can 
 be fully possessed, or fully displayed, only by God himself. 
 To continue the paraphrase giving partly in our own 
 words several of Harnann's most characteristic ideas It is 
 
122 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 assumed in our days, says lie, as an axiom that the under- 
 standing of such men as Spalding and Teller can show us 
 the limit of all that is knowable : but to say nothing here 
 of any higher inspiration genius is more than under- 
 standing. Call in an Aristotle, if you please, and let him 
 find out the rules by which a true poem should be con- 
 structed. But see! here is the poem; breathed forth 
 already, before the great critic has even begun his plan 
 a poem produced moreover by one who knows nothing 
 whatever of all your aesthetic rules. This is the work of 
 genius. You cannot measure the work of genius by your 
 understanding. How then are you to measure or define 
 what is possible or impossible probable or improbable 
 in a stupendous work of genius, of which God himself 
 is the author ? Was the aid of your understanding 
 required when the foundations of the heavens and the earth 
 were laid in chaos ? Do you know how or why it is that 
 He who has for his messengers tempest, earthquake, and 
 fire, chooses so often the " still, small voice " to announce 
 his presence ? This is one brief specimen of Hamann's 
 rhapsodical preaching. 
 
 Near the close of his life, Hamann was relieved from the 
 pressure of his worldly cares. Ho was for some time 
 entertained in the home of Jacobi ; later he went to 
 Minister, where he enjoyed the society of several friends 
 who might be called pietists of a new school. In their 
 circle of which the Princess Gallitzin was the centre 
 Catholics and Lutherans were included with other persons 
 whose religious belief was less definable. 
 
 Here Hamann, a pietist of his own school, was kindly re- 
 ceived among persons remarkably heterogeneous, as regards 
 their several positions in society and their distinct opinions. 
 All were united by a common dread of atheism and re- 
 volution; and all were more or less desirous of doing some- 
 thing toward a restoration of faith, or of that which they in 
 common regarded as the substance of Christianity. But on 
 this point very little can be said distinctly, and at the same 
 

 CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 123 
 
 time truly. For here was Hamann, however pietistic, hardly 
 to be called orthodox in all respects. His protests against 
 those whom he called " letter-idol ators " were almost as 
 vehement as those he made against rationalism. And here 
 was Jacobi, who was a theist of his own school ; and here 
 sometimes came Lavater, whose faith was described by 
 some of his friends, as an earnest longing to find a faith. 
 With these remained associated, more in sympathy than in 
 firm and distinct belief, such men as Kleuker, professor of 
 Protestant theology at Kiel, and several Catholics, including 
 the statesman Fiirstenberg, Katerkamp, a theological 
 writer, and bishop Sailer, especially noted for his love of 
 Tauler's mystical writings. As it seemed difficult to find a 
 common name for a circle so heterogeneous, Voss and other 
 rationalists of his school regarding as their enemies all 
 who were numbered among the friends of the Princess 
 Gallitzin denounced them as "Jesuits," engaged in a 
 conspiracy for the suppression of free inquiry. Lavater, 
 who travelled about rather widely, was especially described 
 by both Nicolai and Semler, as a t( Jesuit " who had cast 
 aside his disguise ; and the charge was apparently to some 
 extent confirmed ; for it was observed that Lavater some- 
 times wore a small black cap. The fact was, there were 
 more serious grounds on which the suspicion might have 
 been founded. He was employed by many as their con- 
 fessor. His eccentricities were many ; but he always 
 remained faithful to his position, as a minister of the Swiss 
 Reformed Church. 
 
 To explain the facts here briefly given, nothing more is 
 required than some little acquaintance with the party-names 
 of the time. The Berlin men of light would not believe 
 that any man could even pretend to be pious, unless he was 
 a disguised "Jesuit." Therefore Lavater was denounced as 
 a Jesuit; Jacobi was suspected; and there still remained a 
 greater absurdity to be perpetrated. The young poet, 
 Goethe himself a thorough child of nature, if ever one 
 lived, and as regards faith a heathen was partly condemned 
 
124 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 as a dreamer, or as a poet going on too far in a mystical 
 way of thought that might possibly lead back to religion. 
 Such were the general suspicions of the time, and they were 
 strongly confirmed when Leopold von Stolberg a poet, 
 and one of Jacobins younger friends openly declared 
 himself a Catholic. The vehement controversy that followed, 
 was something that in the present time can hardly be 
 understood. Jacobi, whose mildness of temper was usually 
 remarkable, now expressed in earnest terms his censure of 
 Stolberg's conduct, to whom at the same time he said 
 farewell for ever. Four years later, their friendship was 
 restored. 
 
 LEOPOLD VON STOLBERG (1750-1819) was in his youth the 
 friend of Goethe, with whom (in 1773) he made a tour in 
 Switzerland. Like many of his contemporaries, he was, in 
 the earlier days of his literary career, a declared revolutionist, 
 and wrote poetry often wild inspired by the enthusiasm 
 of Rousseau, Hamann on account of his predictive tone, 
 sometimes called the " Magus of the North said in 17/5 : 
 "We are living in a time when some great revolution in the 
 minds of men is in its incipient stage of fermentation.'" 
 Stolberg was one among many whose minds were so 
 disturbed; but he was also one of the first of those who, 
 having passed through that incipient stage, were made 
 profoundly conscious of their error the notion then so 
 prevalent, that man and society can be saved from evil 
 without the aid of religion. He was one of the first to 
 reject, as utter delusions, all such notions of progress as 
 were founded on nothing better than a rejection of Chris- 
 tianity. This enlightenment of his mind preceded by 
 several years his formal change of confession. At least 
 some twelve years before the time (i800) when he declared 
 himself a Catholic, he expressed, in his private letters, 
 something like a dread respecting the deistic and irreligious 
 spirit of the age. Thus for example, he wrote to Jacobi in 
 1 788 : " In a sublime sense one may say, truth will defend 
 itself; we need have no fear for the ultimate destiny of the 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 125 
 
 religion so often rejected. True; yet this is but poor 
 consolation for a father who', in these times, sees children 
 growing up around him, who will have to live among 
 baptized probably unbaptized heathens. I say heathens ; 
 for this rational Christianity (so-called) cannot stand. 
 There is nothing in the Word of God to support it, and it 
 has no strength in itself; but must lapse into naturalism 
 atheism. I feel miserable, dwelling here among men who 
 do not, in any definite and practical sense of the words, 
 believe in God. What then is the worth of our friendship, 
 when all that one esteems as holy is contemned by the 
 other ? Why should I seek points of contact with a man, 
 when his whole tendency is leading him farther and farther 
 away from the centre of all that I believe and love ?" Two 
 years later, Stolberg, wishing to find a private tutor for his 
 own children, writes thus to Jacobi : "Let him be a 
 Lutheran, or a member of the Reformed Church but he 
 must believe the Gospel." In later years, Stolberg was led 
 to disbelieve in the possibility of any restoration of religion 
 within the pale of the Lutheran Church, while he held 
 firmly the belief of his friend Lavater as regards the one 
 great controversy of the age. This, said Lavater, is a 
 warfare between God and the enemy of man. In the closing 
 years of the century, the same belief grew more and more 
 prevalent among the friends in Miinster with whom Stolberg 
 was then associated ; and in 1800 he declared himself a 
 member of the Roman Catholic Church. 
 
 Of the controversy that followed this step a detailed 
 analysis is excluded by the limitation of our work. To a 
 very large extent, the dispute was based on certain errors 
 respecting facts, and thus was made personal. Of all the 
 writers who came into the field against Stolberg the most 
 severe and vehement was his former friend and fellow- 
 student, Johann Heinrich Voss, a minor poet, now chiefly 
 remembered on account of his able translations from Homer, 
 Virgil, Horace, and other ancient poets. As to his religious 
 tenets, Voss belonged to the extreme negative or left side 
 
126 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 of rationalism, while in politics he was a friend of the 
 French revolution, who did not change his creed even in 
 the year 1794. 
 
 The later correspondence of Jacobi and his friend Stolberg 
 shows that each, while remaining firm in his own position, 
 treated tenderly the feelings of the other. Polemical topics 
 were mostly avoided. In one of Stolberg's letters the 
 rather difficult position maintained by his friend's theistic 
 - philosophy is thus clearly indicated : 
 
 "As I understand you, one passage in your letter tells me that 
 you class together as imperfect or fallible all moral teachers, and all 
 their systems ; all that you accept is their general moral concordance, 
 the common life and truth pervading their best teaching. Meanwhile 
 your own conscience is your principal guide. . . . But I breathe more 
 freely when I read what follows in yours ; especially the passage 
 where you have written these words : ' Above all religions the reli- 
 gion of Christ has a sublime superiority here, in the promise assuring 
 us, that His teaching [accepted] shall in all believers and everywhere 
 be attended with a supernatural regenerating power.' Here is the 
 very ground on which I am happy to meet you with a cordial concur- 
 rence ; and I would add the promise has been and is fulfilled. Here 
 is the test by which our faith must be tried, as indeed it always ought 
 to be tried. Your saying is in full accordance with the teaching of 
 our Lord. Why do I hesitate to write this ? Is He not ours, and as 
 truly yours, as mine ? In the days when He appeared upon this earth, 
 and here wrought miracles, he gave us this test of his own teaching : 
 ' If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine [mine] 
 whether it be of God.' Here is the main practical support of our 
 faith ; and it is one which will ever remain the same. We appeal to 
 the truth, that when accepted by the heart, this faith will in life 
 display a renovating energy. Firm as our historical ground might 
 still remain, it would still be only a true history, if it were not 
 followed, attended, and continually confirmed by this mystic, regene- 
 rating power essentially belonging to our faith. And if the assertion 
 must be called mysticism, let it be so ; but I would add, that such 
 mysticism is taught in Holy Scripture, and in places too numerous to 
 be readily named." 
 
 Another of Jacobi's friends was Lavater, of whose cha- 
 racter though so much has been said a fair and clear 
 estimate can hardly anywhere be found. " He was possessed 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FEIENDS. 127 
 
 by his faith" one critic has said "but did not possess 
 it." His general notion was that every man must be a 
 Christian or an Atheist ; yet he was tolerant. His writings 
 are on the whole wordy and rhapsodical. Some of his best 
 thoughts may be found here and there scattered in his 
 letters. If one pedantic word might be used to indicate the 
 peculiar tone of his pietism, it might be called an intense 
 " subjectivity. 5 ' Though his temper was mild and his 
 kindness cordial, he was in his own pertinacious way a 
 tyrant, and wished to stamp on everyone with whom he 
 came in contact the impress of his own character. He was 
 a teacher, a ruler, and indeed a confessor, for many who, by 
 his singular power of persuasion, were made subject to his 
 sway. His appearance and address were remarkably amiable 
 and winning. Even Goethe, in his younger days, found 
 something imposing in the presence of Lavater, of whose 
 wishes one of the most earnest was his desire that the poet 
 might be made a Christian. 
 
 JOHANN KASPAR LAVATER was born at Zurich in 1741. 
 When hardly more than twenty-one years old, he suddenly 
 gained celebrity by an act of remarkable courage. At his 
 own cost and risk, he preferred against the high bailiff of 
 the district a just charge of extortion. At this time Lavater 
 had been accepted as a candidate of the Eeformed Church. 
 He honourably sustained the charge ; but consequently 
 found it expedient to leave Zurich for a time. His first 
 tour in Germany made him acquainted with many friends, 
 among whom some might be called his disciples. In oppo- 
 sition to the general opinions of the age, he maintained as 
 his own a faith of which he was never ashamed. Unbelief 
 had spread widely, he said, not because its own grounds 
 were strong, but because the Church had already reduced 
 her own faith to a minimum, and had neglected to guard the 
 holy gifts once bestowed in order that they might be 
 preserved for ever. These, he said, were especially the 
 gifts of healing, and the power of casting out evil spirits. 
 Like his friend Hamann, he had no trust in the efficacy of 
 
128 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 any reasonings, however sound. The beauty and the amia- 
 bility of religion must once more be seen ; the life that is 
 almost extinct must now be rekindled. " Again/' he said, 
 " we must become children in faith, in order that we may 
 enter the Kingdom of Heaven. No man can attain a 
 healthful maturity unless he has first passed through the 
 stage of a teachable childhood." In numerous other pas- 
 sages of his letters, his journals, and his poems, he expresses 
 an ardent desire that somewhere may appear if only on a 
 small scale at first some fair representation of the Kingdom 
 of Heaven. Let it be seen, he said ; then it must be 
 believed. Unhappily these aspirations of Lavater's heart 
 were too closely associated with his credulity, and thus he 
 was led into certain associations with conscious impostors, 
 and into errors by which friends of true religion were 
 offended and grieved. It is remarkable that among all his 
 personal friends few remained faithful. His zeal was too 
 little tempered with discretion. There was a want of 
 quietude and repose in his faith, though there was never any 
 want of courage. It was apparently a want of tact and 
 quietness, or an excess of courage and perseverance in con- 
 tention for the maintenance of his faith, that led to his loss 
 of the friendship of Goethe. 
 
 The story of their earlier association, illustrated with 
 excerpts from their correspondence, tells not a little of the 
 time 1774-96. The interruption of their friendship say 
 rather its extinction was mostly ascribed to the tiresome 
 pertinacity of "the prophet" so Lavater was often called 
 but the true, first cause was one lying far deeper, and one 
 that, even in our own time, deserves serious attention. 
 Goethe in his earlier manhood, and mainly throughout his 
 later course of life, was mostly a man capable of deep 
 reverence; yet his religion was a worship of nature. He 
 was often and justly offended by the presumption and 
 irreverence of some people calling themselves Christians; 
 and in his later life the feeling was often expressed. He 
 was offended by the freedom with which Lavater made 
 

 CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FKIENDS. 129 
 
 appeals to the inmost conscience. To use a theological term, 
 Goethe was a born Pelagian, and he could know at heart 
 little or nothing of the sentiments to which Lavater was almost 
 continually making an appeal. The latter was somewhat 
 like a physician, speaking of his own marvellous gifts of 
 healing, or recommending his own medicines, and all the 
 time addressing one who had a full consciousness of health 
 and strength. Lavater could talk with all Herder's 
 enthusiasm respecting the prospects of humanity. He 
 loved to speak of a new world lying as it were dormant, 
 and ready to unfold itself, as soon as mankind could be 
 united in one common faith ; but he never talked either of 
 an independent and self-sufficient man, or of any all- 
 sufficient light of nature. Thus he speaks in one of his 
 letters to Jacobi respecting the impression left on his 
 mind by a contemplation of nature. For a moment he 
 assumes a materialistic and atheistic point of view 
 
 "When I look upon nature as a spectator, but not as a man 
 having a moral will what do I see ? A universal, everlasting, 
 inevitable sequence of forces, one series deploying another never 
 resting like the Hheinfall, throwing out cloud after cloud of spray 
 with an incessant roar always changing always the same the 
 spray ever rising, and ever falling into the gulph below. In a word, I 
 see a monstrum horrendum ever self-producing and self -consuming. 
 And such, we are told, is this universum spread all around us. Then 
 comes the question : How can it be, that this world or system [here 
 he repeats the German for monstrum} has among other things 
 produced me ; for I cannot bear the thought of its restless ever self- 
 producing and self-consuming process. I am a person, and must 
 personify ; I am human and must humanize in some way all that I 
 see, and especially all those whom I find on a level with myself. 
 Then how must I think of God? I can see in myself all that Spinoza 
 calls God. Here, in my body, is a mechanical structure, which clearly 
 has been based on a plan ; but I see more, even when I look into 
 myself, and no farther." 
 
 Lavater goes on to show in his own way how, by the law 
 of his own inmost moral nature, he is led on, at once to seek 
 for God, and to long for the intimate presence of a personal 
 friend. It is remarkable that Lavater and Goethe could at 
 any time be as good friends as they once were ; for the 
 
 9 
 
130 GERMAN CULTUKE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 difference which was at last strongly marked in a letter 
 written by the latter (1781) had always existed between 
 them. In the letter referred to, Goethe rejected in deci- 
 sive terms the conclusion to which his friend had long 
 endeavoured to lead him. He could admire, he said, the 
 enthusiasm and devotion of Lavater ; but could not under- 
 stand why the object must always be One. " There have 
 been many teachers and benefactors of mankind," said 
 Goethe : " It is not implied in the nature of an idea that it 
 can or should expend all its resources [or express itself 
 fully] in an individual example." These words were appa- 
 rently intended to indicate the basis of an argument, 
 that might be employed in the refutation of Lavater' s 
 main belief; and since his time they have been often quoted 
 especially by Strauss. Accepted as words coming from 
 Goethe, they have seemed worthy of much notice ; but they 
 must imply a petitio principii, if employed as the basis of 
 an argument against the doctrine to which his letter refers. 
 He lays down here a law respecting natural evolution. 
 Lavater had asserted his belief in the truth which he 
 regarded as the centre of divine revelation the truth of 
 Christ's divinity. 
 
 The letter itself makes it clear that Goethe was at this 
 time fully decided on the side of rationalism. Although 
 in his later years he wrote and spoke more respectfully of 
 Christianity, yet this expression of his opinions was never 
 recalled. Here then is found the sum and substance of the 
 result arrived at by Strauss and Baur in our own time, already 
 accepted (in 1781) by Goethe as a conclusion not to be 
 doubted by any reasonable man. To return to Lavater 
 his general intention must be estimated before judgment is 
 pronounced on the errors and eccentricities that alienated 
 so many of his friends and disciples. Goethe, after his tour 
 in Italy, treated Lavater with contempt. On one occasion, 
 when he passed through Zurich, he neglected to call upon 
 his old friend. Apparently the poet had forgotten the time 
 when he wrote to Lavater, and asked for spiritual advice 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 131 
 
 and consolation, saying : " If you help me, you will do a 
 service for many." How could the kindness of the reply 
 be forgotten ! 
 
 The life of Lavater was closed in Zurich, where he was 
 born. In 1799, when the place was surrendered to the 
 French, their troops were engaged in plundering shops and 
 houses. Lavater, with characteristic kindness, did all that 
 was possible to appease the soldiery, and to protect his 
 neighbours. He was at one moment engaged in carrying 
 out from a neighbour's house some wine to be distributed 
 among the impatient soldiers, when one of them wantonly 
 fired upon him, and he fell grievously wounded. He would 
 let no attempt be made to seize the soldier. For more than 
 a year, the intense suffering caused by his wound was 
 patiently endured, and frequently he was overheard praying 
 for the welfare of the man by whom the wound was inflicted. 
 Among the papers left by Lavater, not the least noticeable 
 was a poem addressed to his murderer, and expressing 
 a fervent hope that he might meet him in heaven. 
 
 Individuality, united with a proselyting zeal, was the 
 most salient trait in the character of Lavater ; and a similar 
 remark might be made respecting his contemporary Jung- 
 Stilling. His writings for the most part convey but a faint 
 notion of his personal influence. In a time when faith was 
 for the most part feeble, where it was not absolutely dead, 
 he almost suddenly gained celebrity, partly by the graphic 
 and genial traits of his earlier writings, but more especially 
 by their teaching respecting trust in Divine Providence. 
 On the ground of his own experience, he believed in the 
 efficacy of prayer. With this, his chief doctrine, there was 
 united a singular trust in his own personal influence a 
 mystic power with which, as he believed, he was endowed, 
 for the aid and consolation of his friends. Among those 
 known in his earlier days, one of his best friends was 
 Goethe, at that time a young student, and in his love of 
 poetry an enthusiast. When it is noticed, that in his later 
 life the poet was mostly averse to everything that tended 
 
 9 * 
 
132 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 towards religious enthusiasm, it should be remembered, 
 that in his youth he was well acquainted with Lavater and 
 Jung- Stilling. The poet retained, for the most part, a 
 liking for reserve in speaking of sacred themes. ~No doubt 
 he remembered well, that reserve, self-suspicion, and mode- 
 ration were the qualities most deficient among the pietistic 
 friends of his earlier days. 
 
 JOHANN HEINRICH JUNG better known by his assumed 
 name Jung-Stilling was born in 1740. After passing 
 through some hardships of early life, he went to study 
 medicine at Strassburg. Here in 1772 he fortunately 
 became acquainted with Goethe, who gave him considerable . 
 aid; especially in preparing for the press the well-known 
 book "Heinrich Stirling's Youthful Years." This book, 
 published a hundred years ago, is still remembered. The 
 author's later writings were partly theosophic. Among 
 them may be named ' ' Der graue Mann," a serial published 
 in the course of the years 1795-1816. Jung- Stilling died 
 in 1817. His writings, like those of Lavater but espe- 
 cially his letters express the feelings of earnest men, 
 scattered here and there, and still endeavouring to do 
 something against the general tendency of their time. 
 They were sometimes led into error by their zeal ; but it is 
 also true that depression and melancholy were often, at that 
 time, the attendants of men who had any serious care for 
 religion. Jung- Stilling was especially a man of this class, 
 and his depression was naturally increased, when he en- 
 deavoured to find in the study of Kant's philosophy a con- 
 firmation of his own faith. Soon disappointed, he returned 
 to his reading of the New Testament. Kant, about the 
 same lime, wrote to Jung- Stilling as follows : " You do well 
 in returning to find your only consolation in the Gospel ; 
 there is the source of the truth that can nowhere else be 
 found, even when we have surveyed the whole field of 
 reason.-" 
 
 When so much may be said and said truly respecting 
 the spread of negation, it is but natural to forget for a time 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FKIENDS. 133 
 
 even some remarkable exceptions. These might be found 
 here and there in North Germany ; for example at Konigs- 
 berg, where Kant was teaching, and again in Holstein, 
 where lived Claudius, one of Jacobi's most intimate friends. 
 But pietists not strictly so-called were, on the whole, 
 more numerous in the South, and especially in Wiirtemberg, 
 where lived mostly the disciples of Bengel and Oetinger. 
 In the North, among literary men who enjoyed any notice- 
 able popularity, religion as understood by quiet men of the 
 old school had hardly a better friend than Claudius. 
 
 MATTHIAS CLAUDIUS (1740-1815) studied at Jena, and 
 lived for some years at Wandsbeck (in Holstein). In his 
 earlier life he was mostly engaged in literary pursuits, and 
 afterwards was appointed Eevisor of the Holstein Bank. 
 His popular journal, "The Wandsbeck Messenger," supplied 
 for some years wholesome light literature for many general 
 readers, while its more serious papers served to lead men 
 back from their unbelief towards a quiet and practical 
 piety. 
 
 Humour, playfulness, and true poetry made the writings 
 of Claudius attractive in their day. His sentiments have a 
 childlike purity, and he likes to express them in a familiar, 
 honiiletic style, as if he were addressing some intimate 
 relative and friend. Thus he writes in one of his letters 
 addressed to a cousin : " Have you made the experiment 
 of turning away for a time from all disputation, and dwelling 
 as it were in the contemplation of one object ? Have you 
 read quietly the Gospel, and meditated long upon it ? Then 
 you know something of the life, the words, of One whom 
 again men in our age would reject. The love ; the low- 
 liness ; the quietude and yet withal the majesty, before 
 which one must bend the knee you know something of 
 these traits ? You have thought of the question What 
 would the world be if those traits were imitated ; if those 
 precepts were carried out in life ? . . . That He should be 
 contemned rejected. It is enough to make one's hair turn 
 gray. . . . Yet I did not mean to suggest any fear respect- 
 
134 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 ing the destiny of the truth itself. No ; this will remain 
 firm. The question is, how can men live without it ? You 
 and I cannot. We are not independent ; but need the help 
 of one who will lift us up, and hold us up while we live here, 
 and will support our drooping heads when we die." 
 
 Claudius writes mostly in this homiletic vein ; but where 
 he remembers that logic is demanded by his opponents, he 
 sometimes intimates that he has good reasons for his 
 faith. Yet faith is first and last, he says: "All that 
 we see, in the heavens above and in the earth below, 
 can serve but as a confirmation of a faith within us ; or 
 call it a superior knowledge of ourselves, a self-con- 
 sciousness that gives us heart and courage to master and 
 correct as it were all the results of our own experience. 
 Amidst all these splendours of creation, we feel and know 
 that we ourselves are greater than all that we behold. We 
 long to know more than can be told by all these objects of 
 sense by which we are surrounded ; for we have more in 
 our own soul. We have even the germ of a perfect life 
 the ideal, as men now call it. And without this ideal we 
 cannot live, while we cannot rest so long as we know it only 
 as our own ideal. Hence we look forth in inquiry, to find, 
 if possible, symbols that indicate the presence of the idea. 
 We find its light reflected from mirrors visible and invi- 
 sible or spread over glowing pictures, that sometimes one 
 is tempted to take for portraits. But pictures, after all, are 
 only pictures. They please for a moment j but cannot 
 satisfy the soul. . . . We have life, and know that it is 
 given; light, and know that it does not originate in us. 
 We seek to know the source, the giver One who has life 
 and light in Himself." . . . " These are some of the 
 thoughts that have led me to my conviction : for our own 
 true development, and as a basis of our moral life, we must 
 have faith I mean the faith of a Christian. " 
 
 At one time, when the domestic circumstances of Claudius 
 were difficult, he was generously assisted by Jacobi. This 
 led to their friendship, which had, however, deeper grounds 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FEIENDS. 135 
 
 in their religious sympathies. " Our ideas/' said Jacobi, 
 t( are like the radii of a circle, which can neither run parallel 
 nor intersect one another." Such quiet and practical faith 
 as was seen in the life of his friend Claudius was for Jacobi 
 at once a mystery and a self-evident truth. As he often 
 confessed, he longed for that repose. " I have been young, 
 and now am old/' he said; "and now I leave this on 
 record : that never have I seen anywhere true lasting 
 happiness joy in life save among believing, pious people 
 I mean to say, believers of the old-fashioned school." 
 " And if their practical Christian life is to be seen again" 
 Claudius would reply "if their moral firmness and their 
 happiness are to be again restored their faith must first of 
 all be restored." 
 
 Seldom or never has any earnest and inquiring man held 
 finally a position like that so long maintained by Jacobi. 
 It was especially made definite in contrast with the views of 
 his friend Claudius, and was always in substance equivalent 
 to the doctrine enunciated in Jacobins book ' { On Divine 
 Things and their Revelation." Claudius asserts that man 
 has a capacity of receiving divine truth which his unaided 
 reason cannot discover. The truth must first be given. 
 To this Jacobi replies by saying, in effect "True; but 
 for me the history becomes a divine revelation only when 
 accepted as accordant with that which I know as divine in 
 my own soul. The history can awaken the idea that is 
 already existent in my soul; but it can give me nothing 
 that is really new. It serves but as a medium of suggestion 
 or presentation/' Thus Jacobi in his own way and with 
 higher aspirations than were prevalent in his time still 
 held the opinion so widely then spread : that no difference 
 more than one of degree had ever existed, or could exist, 
 between Christianity and other forms of religion. He, 
 therefore, never gives his mind wholly and devoutly to his- 
 torical religious inquiry, so sure does he feel at the outset 
 that nothing historical can ever lead him out of his own 
 position. He speaks, indeed, of Christ as being at once 
 
136 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 " the mightiest among the holy and the holiest among the 
 mighty;" but he hardly goes on to consider what such 
 words must imply. He grants that we have records show- 
 ing that the opening Christian era was a time when a 
 spiritual and divine life absolutely sinless was manifested in 
 this world; but he pays little attention to the claims of 
 authority asserted in union with that manifestation. So 
 when Claudius speaks of dependence on a Mediator, the reply 
 given by Jacobi amounts to the suggestion, that here a rela- 
 tion of likeness is mistaken for one of dependence. Of the 
 aid afforded by the Church however understood or defined 
 little or nothing is said by Jacobi, though he is one who 
 is especially conscious of the aid and consolation supplied 
 by true friendship. As regards faith, he assumes a position 
 of independence, and dwells in a solitude; yet here it is 
 worthy of notice in one so sincere he feels at times a 
 serious disquietude, of which expressions are here and there 
 found in his writings. He feels that the world around him, 
 with its passions, sins, and sufferings, is real, permanent, 
 and powerful, while his faith, at times expansive and 
 buoyant, is but ideal, fluctuating, and evanescent. Ee- 
 specting such vicissitudes in his spiritual life, there are 
 found in his writings many passages of which the substance 
 is given in a few lines written by Wordsworth : 
 
 " I must needs confess, 
 That 'tis a thing impossible to frame 
 Conceptions equal to the soul's desires, 
 And the most difficult of tasks to keep 
 Heights which the soul is competent to gain. 
 Man is of dust ; ethereal hopes are his, 
 Which when they should sustain themselves aloft, 
 Want due consistence ; like a pillar of smoke, 
 That with majestic majesty from earth 
 B/ises, but having reached the thinner air, 
 Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen." 
 
 Of the weakness and the danger of moral dependence on 
 sentiments, or on feelings that may for a moment be taken 
 for inspirations, Jacobi was well aware ; and in his didactic 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 137 
 
 story of " All will," lie sometimes writes earnestly in appa- 
 rent opposition to his own views. "A man must have 
 rules," he says ; " rules, fixed, unalterable standing firm as 
 rocks, however the waves may dash against them. Of 
 trusting wholly in your impulses be warned, All will, by my 
 own experience; for I sometimes tremble, when looking 
 back on the quicksands where I might have been lost. 
 Duty, constantly held in view this must be our sole guide, 
 while we are striving on toward the goal, at which our safe 
 arrival may seem impossible. Yes, it may be proved to be 
 impossible ; yet onward, still onward we must go. . . . Oh, 
 were I but strong and swift to run in this way the only 
 way leading to divine truth, and divine happiness." Again 
 the reader may be reminded of lines written by Words- 
 worth 
 
 " Though immovably convinced, we want 
 Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith, 
 As soldiers live by courage ; as by strength 
 Of heart, the sailor fights with roaring seas. 
 
 What then remains ? To seek 
 Those helps, for his occasions ever near 
 Who lacks not will to use them : vows renewed 
 On the first motion of a holy thought ; 
 Yigils of contemplation ; praise, and prayer 
 A stream which, from the fountain of the heart 
 Issuing however feebly, nowhere flows 
 Without access of unexpected strength. 
 But above all, the victory is most sure 
 For him who, seeking faith by virtue, strives 
 To yield entire submission to the law 
 Of conscience conscience reverenced and obeyed, 
 As God's most intimate presence in the soul, 
 And his most perfect image in the world." 
 
 This may be accepted as a summary of Jacobi's practical 
 religion ; and there can be no doubt of the conclusion that 
 so far as it goes it is true ; it is the first and indispensable 
 half of religion. The question follows : Why could not a 
 man so true as Jacobi find the other half ? Grasping at 
 once the inner and the outer revelation why could he not 
 
138 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 firmly believe and say: " These are one?" What was it 
 that prevented their union ? The reply must be his own 
 philosophy. 
 
 What was this philosophy ? The few fixed ideas so-called 
 were sometimes made obscure in his own writings, because 
 they were there often connected with controversial writing 
 against the systems of Spinoza, Kant, and others. In con- 
 troversy especially as directed against principles assumed 
 by Kant and Fichte considerable acuteness of intellect was 
 shown by Jacobi, and it is mostly with regard to his power 
 in criticism that he has been classed with philosophers, or 
 metaphysical writers. His own positive views may be 
 reduced to a few assertions of his belief. 
 
 First of all, as regards both religion and ethics, he dis- 
 trusts all reasoning, and asserts that we are and must be 
 guided by faith. 
 
 We depend on faith, he says on our innate faith in the 
 impressions received through our senses for all our know- 
 ledge of the natural, or so-called real world by which we 
 are surrounded. These impressions are classified and made 
 clear by the use of our understanding. So far as real 
 experience, based on sensation, is concerned, our reasonings 
 are valid ; but they apply only to things finite and depen- 
 dent. Every logical conclusion must rest on a presumption, 
 and when this is made a conclusion, it can be done only 
 by some reference to another presumption. Thus we must 
 always be led back to some basis in faith, even when we are 
 discoursing only of things finite and dependent. The 
 understanding itself is finite, and all that it can know is 
 finite; it can therefore tell us nothing of the infinite 
 nothing of God; of the soul; of immortality; or of any 
 eternal moral and religious ideas. Yet such ideas are 
 known. How then are they known ? ' ' By faith/' he 
 replies : just as we come to know nature, by means of 
 faith in our senses, so we come to know what is super- 
 natural and divine, by means of faith in our intuitive reason. 
 
 The force of this reply may be seen, when it is viewed in 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 139 
 
 contrast with some other replies to the same question. The 
 ordinary deism that had so long prevailed, rested in the 
 assurance that all that man could require to know of God, 
 of immortality, and of immutable ethics, could be discovered 
 by man's reason, when rightly employed in the study of 
 nature including his own nature. On the contrary, Kant 
 taught, that our ideas of God, the soul, and immortality, 
 cannot be discovered by any study of surrounding 
 nature ; nor can they be found indeed by any exercise 
 of our intellect. Yet the ideas called eternal moral ideas 
 are, in the strongest sense of the words, our own ; they 
 belong essentially to the moral conscience of man, which 
 Kant calls our " practical reason." Of this conscience, 
 which indeed is the substance of man, the authority is 
 primary, absolute, universal. 
 
 The basis of all religious truth is ethical. Yet the ideas 
 of God and immortality are not ours, in that immediate 
 sense in which moral laws are ours. " Act so," says Kant, 
 " that your rule of action may be a rule for all men.'" This 
 is the summary of the law within us. With our knowledge 
 of the law is implied an idea of a lawgiver, and ideas of 
 rewards and punishments must follow. These then are 
 postulated demanded by our practical reason our con- 
 science ; and they must be held to be true ; yet they cannot 
 be demonstrated. This is the position assumed by Kant as 
 an ethical teacher. 
 
 Here it is that Jacobi places himself in opposition to 
 Kant's teaching. Our "divine ideas" of God and im- 
 mortality cannot, says Jacobi, be demonstrated; neither can 
 it be allowed that they should hold in our mind a secondary 
 position, or be regarded only as ' ' postulates." The notion 
 implies a process of reasoning, and such reasoning as may 
 be called weak ; for it amounts to this I cannot recognize 
 and obey the law, without a thought of the Lawgiver, or 
 without a belief, that my obedience and my well-being are 
 essentially and eternally united ; but here, in this life, it is 
 clear that they are not always so united. This is true, says 
 
140 GERMAN GUI/TUBE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Jacob! ; it truly describes an inevitable union or sequence 
 of ideas existing within my own mind ; but how does it 
 lead me out beyond the bounds of my own mind ? How 
 does my own sequence of ideas supply any sure basis of 
 belief, or knowledge, respecting the objective existence of 
 God, or the immortality of the soul ? These indeed are the 
 chief articles of my belief; but how are they received, and 
 known, and firmly held ? 
 
 " By faith/ ' he replies, " by an immediate act of faith, 
 excited and maintained in me by a divine revelation, 
 taking place in my inmost being. Of this faith I can 
 give you no further account, and certainly can give no 
 demonstration of its grounds. Its existence may indeed be 
 indicated by my words; but only for those in whom it 
 already exists." 
 
 The relations of Jacobins philosophy with his views of 
 religion may be shown more distinctly, when his teaching is 
 compared with the more systematic doctrines of Kant and 
 Fichte. All three Jacobi, Kant, and Fichte were alike 
 agents in leading to a remarkable change in the current of 
 religious sentiment. There was felt in their time, among 
 thoughtful men of all confessions and among some of no 
 confession a general fear, lest the world should be left 
 destitute of all religion ; lest the very first instinct that 
 in heathendom had led to some vague knowledge of God, 
 should become extinct. So far the general course of deism 
 otherwise called rationalism had led to nothing more 
 than a series of negations. It has been observed (p. 2) that 
 modern deism viewed in its proper isolation, or set apart 
 from its borrowed ethics is, as regards both authority 
 and moral power, as empty as the abstract formula of 
 Robespierre. This formula, it is allowed, does not fully 
 represent the eclectic deism held or professed by all those 
 writers mostly called deists who in the eighteenth century 
 were destructively active in England, Germany, and France. 
 They vainly endeavoured to connect their very short creed 
 with good morals, more or less diluted, but mostly borrowed 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI ANP HIS FRIENDS. 141 
 
 originally from Christianity. Their connection of creed 
 and morals was accordingly a bond only mechanical, or 
 accidental, and of course it could not endure. Once assumed 
 an absolute separation of the human and the divine there 
 can be no religion; and morals, deprived of their motive 
 power, their inspiration, their life, must die. As a substitute 
 for true ethics, there may be established, for a moment, 
 some theory called eudaimonistic, or utilitarian, and founded 
 on what seems prudent or wise, to this man or to that ; but 
 the theory so founded can have no stability. At the heart 
 of man the truth is felt and known, that absolute obedience 
 is due only to one divine authority; and where no re- 
 velation of the divine will is known, man is his own master 
 nay ; every man is his own master. Therefore since 
 abstract deism can show no revelation of a divine will, more 
 than is manifested in nature deistic philosophy must, so 
 far as it prevails, lead to negation of both religion and 
 morality. If the inevitable nature of the sequence is not 
 always clearly seen, it is because the proper creed of deism, 
 and its own natural tendency, are both disguised, when they 
 are mechanically, or by force of habit, connected with 
 Christian morals. 
 
 If these conclusions seem doubtful, they must be tested 
 by references to the pages of history. There can be no 
 wish to contradict here any well-attested facts ; to disparage 
 the morality of an individual like Socrates ; or to deny that, 
 in ancient Chinese and Hindoo, as in Greek and Roman 
 literature, are found moral precepts of the highest character 
 including some always identical with the highest morals 
 of Christianity. All these faces granted how can they be 
 utilized, so as to invalidate our conclusion : that deism, 
 beginning in a negation of the truth that gives life to 
 Christian morality, must end in a negation of this Christian 
 morality itself? Still the conclusion will be doubted, and 
 this must not excite our wonder ; for even Kant, the philo- 
 sopher, could dream that Christian ethics, left destitute of 
 all the faith that makes them powerful, could still exist, and 
 
142 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 might indeed be made the basis of a universal law for all 
 peoples, and for all time. Human authority, then our own 
 " practical reason " is sufficient, and has power to enforce 
 laws founded on the divine maxim " It is more blessed to 
 give than to receive." To name such a proposition is to 
 refute it. 
 
 There must be a deep source of the error, by which an 
 intellect like Kant's could be led so far astray. The chief 
 source of all philosophical errors lies in one first error ; in a 
 false abstraction a forgetfulness of life and reality and to 
 this chief error men are especially exposed, when they have 
 too much confidence in the power and the authority of the 
 intellect. It is the power by which the results of experience 
 external and internal are clearly generalized and 
 classified, and if possible are placed in an order showing 
 their own true relations. The difficulty attending the 
 process is to avoid a loss or diminution of actual, real 
 experience, while we are generalizing its results, and are 
 seeking to place them in some ideal order. In a word, 
 abstract philosophy is as easy as it is useless ; but com- 
 prehensive philosophy is exceedingly difficult, and until the 
 end of the world must belong only to a few among the 
 millions of mankind. They must be men intensely sympa- 
 thetic, and endowed with intellectual powers at once com- 
 prehensive and clear. 
 
 Of the chief danger of philosophy especially when set 
 forth as a substitute for faith Jacobi was profoundly 
 conscious. This one fact serves as a key to some obscure 
 passages in his writings, and at the same time shows the 
 source of their general religious tendency. Rather than 
 trust in reasonings, respecting morals or religion, he would 
 be guided by his own intuitive faith ; and as he did not 
 find this faith always a safe and strong guide, he freely 
 expressed his willingness to accept the guidance of a positive 
 religion, if he could but first be convinced of its claim. But 
 for him nothing historical and objective could have a claim 
 equal to that preferred by his own intuition. The principle 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOB1 AND HIS FRIENDS. 143 
 
 thus asserted by Jacobi, was severely criticized in his own 
 day ; and it is now justly regarded as one-sided, or limited 
 in an arbitrary way. ' ' There is," he says, " in our inmost 
 conscience, a sure knowledge of the supernatural, of God, 
 and of divine things ; and of all the knowledge that we 
 possess this divine knowledge is the most certain; but it 
 can never be authoritatively displayed in any history, and it 
 can never be reduced to the form of exact science. . . . 
 Faith supplies that to which our reasonings cannot lead us. 
 There is a light within us, and yet it is not ours, but is 
 divine, and in this light we see at once ourselves and God." 
 By means of the same light, he recognizes as he says its 
 brightest radiance shining forth in the person of Christ, 
 and he rejoices while he feels assured, that the light shining 
 there is also shining here, within himself. But he will not 
 recognize in Christ the source of the divine light shining in 
 the souls of men. 
 
 Many were the objections urged by his friends against 
 the one-sided character of the faith asserted by Jacobi. 
 " Religion is for all men," his friend Claudius would say; 
 " but what is your answer, when men say as they do 
 that your faith is but a dream, or a fixed idea, having no 
 existence save in your own mind ? What can you say in 
 reply, if you can appeal to no objective presence, and to no 
 history greater or more authoritative than yourself and your 
 own experience ?" Jacobi could estimate well the force of 
 the objection, and he sometimes made an endeavour to meet 
 it, but never with success. There had long prevailed among 
 men otherwise various in their opinions a strong tendency 
 to intellectual egotism. Men could find truth nowhere save 
 in themselves in their own reason, or in their common 
 sense, or in a certain insight, or in an intuitive faith, as 
 Jacobi said. If a word, mostly used with a moral and 
 unfavourable meaning, might for once be used in a purely 
 intellectual sense, then it might be truly said, that Jacobi 
 however generous, amiable, and open to religious influence 
 was one of the most confirmed egotists of his time. 
 
144 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Another great egotist was Kant, though his moral character 
 was, to say the least, kind and humanitarian, in the highest 
 sense of the word. A third egotist was Fichte -facile 
 princ&ps. His philosophical egotism soon arrived at a 
 climax, by which he himself was apparently surprised. 
 However that may be, it is certain that, in his later 
 philosophy, he assumed toward religion a new position, and 
 one indicating a sense of dependence on the aid afforded by 
 revelation. Of this great revolution in the views of Fichte, 
 his disciple, Carlyle, apparently knew nothing. 
 
 Jacobi, Kant and Fichte all three endeavoured to find, 
 without the aid of Christ, a sure basis for ethics, and for 
 ethics so pure and sublime that, when viewed in themselves 
 or considered apart from their first principles and motives 
 they can hardly be distinguished from our ethics called 
 Christian. All three in their distinct ways confessed 
 their failure. 
 
 The dissatisfaction of Jacobi, respecting his own faith, 
 was often freely expressed; especially in several letters 
 written shortly before the close of his life. "My attempt" 
 said he, more than once " to fix for permanent use any 
 maxims founded on my own evanescent feelings is too often 
 a failure ; it is like the plan of tying a knot in a handker- 
 chief, to remind one of his own purpose. Afterwards we 
 see indeed the knot ; but forget what was our intention 
 when it was tied." .... "That historical and sound- 
 hearted faith of our forefathers the faith that made them 
 one in creed and sentiment we must have that in substance 
 restored, if ever we are again to have healthful religious 
 sentiment; but how to restore that faith I do not see." 
 . . . . " Alas, from my heart I agree in all you say respect- 
 ing the insufficiency of my own philosophizing." ..." In 
 regard to historical religion, there is now taking place in 
 Germany something like a restorative movement. I was 
 lately talking about it, with the two sons of Bishop Sack, of 
 Berlin ; and I wished to learn especially, what were the 
 bases of the movement. The younger son was remarkably 
 
CHAPTER VI. JACOBI AND HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 zealous, and my questions therefore were mostly addressed 
 to him. He could see that my inquiry was sincere and 
 earnest ; but he could refer only to the ground of his own 
 religious experience. This is nothing more than my own 
 way of proof. Just so, when I talk with Bishop Sailer, I 
 find that his ultimate basis of faith is like my own an 
 appeal to his own conscience." . . . . " I have been struck 
 by one of Twesten's remarks, which you may find in one of 
 his speeches lately addressed to the clergy : ' Educated 
 men/ says he, ' are now asking for some spiritual teaching 
 higher than such as is supplied in our ordinary preaching ; 
 and if we cannot give them what they want, we may as well 
 remain silent/ Here Twesten is evidently speaking of 
 teaching that is communicable of doctrine that can be 
 accepted by philosophers, as well as by theologians. But 
 where is this higher teaching to be found ? I can give no 
 answer." . . . "One of my good friends, having lately 
 read the third volume of my collected writings, writes to me 
 very kindly about it; but he adds the following remarks : 
 ' What a miserable thing it is in our time, that so many 
 sincere, truth- seeking men, like yourself, after many years 
 of inquiry, can find nothing clear and sure in their own 
 religious belief and doctrine nothing that can serve even 
 to quell their own doubts ; and of course nothing that can 
 afford any safe guidance to other inquirers. What discords 
 there are among the men called thinkers ! The thought 
 has made me melancholy, while I have been reading your 
 book/ 
 
 There were, however, some critics whose appreciation of 
 Jacobi's writings was far higher. " Here " says one in effect 
 " we converse with a pure soul one free from all religious 
 prejudices, bound by no confession, restricted by no ties of 
 any profession, led only by that inspiration which he recog- 
 nizes in his own purest sentiments and whither is he led ? 
 Whose is the portraiture in which he recognizes the 
 perfect the divine ? And if he does not adore, or formally 
 worship here, what restrains him, save an abstract, meta- 
 
 10 
 
146 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 physical idea of unity, in which, as he supposes, personal 
 distinction cannot exist ?" The thought implied here was 
 generalized. Appeals to convictions based on purity of 
 sentiment were made more prominent now among Christian 
 evidences, as adduced by several theological writers who 
 more or less strictly accepted the first principles of Jacobins 
 philosophy. There were numbered in this class of writers 
 such men as Hase, De Wette, Fries, Koppen, and Steudel. 
 
 " Christianity," said Bishop Sailer a Catholic " had on 
 the heart of Jacobi a closer grasp than he himself was aware 
 of at all times/' " There are various mansions in the world 
 unseen, " said a Lutheran preacher when referring to 
 Jacobi's decease " and one need not feel extreme anxiety 
 respecting the close of a philosopher's life, when he dies 
 praying." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 DURING the next twenty years following the decease of 
 Lessing (1781) there was one subject that in Germany 
 especially occupied the attention of thoughtful men. This 
 was the new metaphysical teaching introduced by Kant 
 in his " Critique of Pure Reason." Its first publication 
 (1781) was the beginning of a new era, and led 
 inevitably to all the later speculative philosophy of Fichte, 
 Schelling, Hegel, and their disciples. The true beginning 
 of this remarkable movement one that has made a revolu- 
 tion in the world of intellectual inquiry took place, not in 
 Germany, but in Scotland. To disturb profoundly the faith 
 on which alone can be founded sure morals in the individual 
 soul, in the family, and in society at large, restless men of 
 almost all European nations (called educated) have indeed 
 written and said enough in our times; and the results of 
 their destructive work are surely sufficiently apparent now, 
 when even men advanced in freethinking and calling them- 
 selves " Pantheists" are expressing a dread lest the world 
 should soon be left utterly destitute of religion. " German 
 Professors have done this," is a saying sometimes heard, 
 and one implying a common belief not utterly unfounded 
 yet there is something more to be remembered. The 
 almost empty deism so popular in Kant's earlier years was 
 imported from England, and of all the theories of unbelief 
 ever held, the most dismal and desolating came from Scot- 
 land. There it was first suggested by the well-known 
 
 10 * 
 
 
148 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 historian, David Hume. He did not develop his principle ; 
 but rather asserted it, in his own cold and apathetic way. 
 In Konigsberg, however, it was profoundly studied by 
 Immanuel Kant probably then the only man in the world 
 who fully understood the gist of what Hume had intended 
 to say. " Man is a mere bundle of sensations" said Hume, 
 in effect " his general notions of cause and effect, and of 
 substance, of God, and of truth yea, and even his notion of 
 himself these are all nothing more than the results of 
 man's own habits of thinking, which have been produced in 
 him by frequent sequences of sensations." One sensation 
 follows another. Here is the end of philosophy. 
 
 " This thought," said Kant, ' { aroused me then a 
 student of Wolff's philosophy out of my dogmatic slum- 
 ber." This is intended to say, that Hume's suggestion of 
 an utter universal unbelief not correctly called ff scep- 
 ticism" was so viewed by Kant, that it led him to such 
 inquiries as had for their ultimate result the critical philo- 
 sophy. Of this elaborate and difficult system some brief 
 account must be given, but chiefly in order to lead on 
 naturally to the moral and practical teaching of Kant 
 respecting ethics, their authority, and their union with the 
 claims of revealed religion. Our conscience, he says 
 not our understanding leads us to our belief in God. 
 
 IMMANUEL KANT was born at Konigsberg in 1724. His 
 parents, belonging to the middle class, were persons of high 
 moral respectability ; and his mother was a pious woman, to 
 whose good influence he was deeply indebted. From the 
 early teaching bestowed on the child was derived that 
 love of strict veracity by which the philosopher was dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 When sixteen years old, he entered the University of his 
 native place, where he was a diligent student of both 
 mathematics and physics, though his special department 
 of study was theology. Later, he was for some years 
 engaged as a private tutor; and in the course of these years 
 he now and then supplied the place of a preacher in some 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 149 
 
 country places near Konigsberg. Meanwhile he read 
 diligently, and occasionally produced essays on philosophy, 
 astronomy, and some branches of physical science. With 
 regard to these his earlier writings, he was usually classed 
 with the popular philosophers of his time such men as 
 Garve and Mendelssohn though he soon departed from 
 their routine, and began to think for himself. His pro- 
 gress in the studies leading toward the development of his 
 own philosophy was slow and careful. The main principles 
 of his chief work the tf Critique of Pure Reason " had 
 been established in his own mind, at least some ten years 
 before 1781, when the book was published. 
 
 When forty-six years old, Kant was appointed Professor 
 of Logic and Metaphysics in Konigsberg, and this position 
 he held for twenty-seven years. The great and epoch- 
 making work above named was his chief contribution to 
 intellectual philosophy, but left unexplored all questions 
 relating to ethics and their relation to religious belief. The 
 philosophical world of that time was startled when told by 
 Kant's " Critique/' that the human understanding, to which 
 such large powers had been ascribed, could find out nothing 
 true respecting God, the soul, immortality, and morality. 
 On these, and on all other topics usually called ethical and 
 theological, Kant gave the results of his studies in his later 
 book, the " Critique of Practical Reason," which was pub- 
 lished in 1787. His work entitled " Religion within the 
 bounds of Pure Reason " published in 1 793 is the book 
 that chiefly requires our notice. Kant died in 1804. 
 
 The character of Kant is one comparatively so simple 
 that its outline is easily drawn. His mind, his physical 
 frame, and his social circumstances were all well harmonized 
 with the chief purpose of his life. Of middle stature, the 
 body was spare and frail, yet for the most part healthful. 
 His clear, blue, and well-opened eyes not seldom radiant 
 with quiet humour were more than usually expressive 
 when he was engaged in friendly converse, in which next 
 to study he found his greatest delight. Apart from the 
 
150 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 modest and social dinner, to which he loved now and then 
 to invite a few friends, his usual routine of life was like 
 that of a hermit. He was never married. All the small 
 cares of the household were left in the charge of one man- 
 servant, in whose fidelity the philosopher placed absolute 
 reliance. In his later life he enjoyed the retirement of his 
 small house and garden, situated in the suburbs ; and here 
 the routine of everyday life went on quietly, as if moved by 
 clock-work. Kant never travelled beyond the bounds of 
 his native province ; yet he was remarkably well acquainted 
 with facts in geography and topography. His discursive 
 talk with his friends was mostly various, interesting, and 
 free from pedantry. He was an extensive general reader, 
 though he never collected a large library. In fiction, he 
 especially admired the English novels of Bichardson, and 
 was not left untouched by the sorrows of " Pamela" and 
 " Clarissa Harlowe." 
 
 So far had Kant sympathy with the hopeful humanitarian 
 and educational tendencies of his time, that he read with 
 enthusiastic interest all the writings of Rousseau, especially 
 the educational romance of "Emile." When this epoch- 
 making book first came out (1762) it was seized and read 
 by Kant with such avidity that, for several days, he forgot 
 to take his usual constitutional walk. There is more than 
 a trivial interest in this anecdote; it indicates the first 
 suggestion of leading ideas and motives by which Kant was 
 guided throughout the later course of his moral teaching. 
 No doubt, in his earlier life, he was as hopeful as any of his 
 young friends, the popular philosophers. They believed 
 though not so fervidly as their teacher, Rousseau in the 
 sufficiency of human reason, and in the radical goodness of 
 human nature. These assumptions once regarded by 
 philosophers as their chief articles of faith were both at 
 last rejected by Kant. He retained, however, an exalted, 
 ideal notion respecting man's true moral nature, while he 
 had also a firm conviction, that its original order had been 
 inexplicably perverted by some " radical evil." This was 
 
CHAPTER vn. KANT'S MOKAL PHILOSOPHY. 151 
 
 Kant's general idea of a moral dualism in human nature. 
 It led him on to his later theory respecting a union of 
 moral philosophy and religion. Here his teaching is partly 
 indistinct and unsatisfactory. 
 
 In his advanced years, Kant fell into a condition of such 
 physical and mental debility as might be called a second 
 childhood. Had pride of intellect been the trait most 
 prominent in his middle life, there might have been some- 
 thing too painful in the aspect of his old age. But his 
 moral teaching, and no doubt his belief, had always one 
 main tendency ; and this was to abate the pride of intellect, 
 and to make high morality which he sometimes called 
 " humanity'' independent and supreme. Speaking on 
 one occasion of a future life ( ' I could be contented there," 
 said he, " with the converse of a few honest souls like 
 Lampe " (his servant). On another occasion, the accidental 
 expression of a friend suggested the thought, that with 
 intellect moral sentiment might in a like ratio decay; "but" 
 said Kant, " I have not yet lost the feeling of humanity." 
 
 Here may be added a word to correct certain errors that 
 might be suggested by some vague accounts of Kant's 
 practical belief. It was not limited by the bounds of his 
 intellectual system. He confessed that he could not prove the 
 existence of God, of the soul, or of rewards and punishments 
 in a life unknown to reason ; but for him these were names 
 of realities, of which he was assured by his conscience, which 
 he called <f practical reason." This name for conscience 
 is but one example of a terminology that has made obscure 
 several ideas that, otherwise expressed, might have been 
 readily understood. His style is careful, precise, and 
 sometimes animated; but its long sentences are too 
 numerous. As a brief example, the following passage is 
 taken from his work on aesthetics. It may be noticed that 
 here where he is speaking of sentiments called sublime 
 the basis of his judgment is still moral : 
 
 " Not every object suggestive of fear is called sublime ; though 
 nature, viewed in any aspect that is to excite in us a sentiment truly 
 
152 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 sublime, must first appear as capable of ex citing terror. The thought 
 of an impossibility of resistance on our part must first be suggested ; 
 yet terror must not prevail. . . . Bold, overhanging rocks, threatening 
 to bury us dark, lowering clouds, mass over mass, piled up in the sky, 
 and rent asunder by lightnings, attended with roars of thunder 
 volcanoes, earthquakes, hurricanes, and storms at sea : all these 
 manifestations of physical power in the world surrounding us, make 
 our own power of resistance seem contemptible, as indeed it is in the 
 sphere of external nature. There we must first find for ourselves a 
 place of shelter and security, before we can collect ourselves and 
 become conscious at once of our insignificance and our true greatness. 
 We now feel as before, that in the sphere of nature we are com- 
 paratively powerless ; but at the same time we recognize, in our moral 
 being, the presence of a power that is supernatural a power that 
 will net yield, though confronted by all the might of the material 
 universe." 
 
 Of Kant's chief works, the first defines strictly the 
 limitations of such knowledge as man can acquire. It is 
 shown, first, that of surrounding objects we can know only 
 the appearances not the substance and in the next place, 
 our own subjective notions are classified. In the next 
 treatise, we escape from Hume's desolating negation and 
 find, in Kant's ethical system, not only firm teaching 
 respecting our duty, but also grounds not intellectually 
 demonstrative for our belief in the immortality of the soul, 
 and in the existence of a Supreme Lawgiver. The third 
 treatise " Eeligion witbin the bounds of Pure Keason " 
 is especially remarkable for its inconsequence in logic. To 
 this the writer was inevitably led by the narrow limitation 
 of his religious belief. 
 
 Of the first and the most laborious of these three treatises, 
 a fair analysis would be too extensive to be given here. 
 The main principle in substance identical with Hume's 
 sweeping negation is defended with the greatest tenacity, 
 yet not without some logical failures, that long ago were 
 exposed by Jacobi's criticism. That minimum of firm and 
 good teaching which was contained in the popular philosophy 
 of deism chiefly in its natural theology was now rejected 
 
153 
 
 by Kant. The truth even of such natural theology as had 
 once seemed identical with common sense was denied. 
 Everywhere and in all times, one faith had hitherto prevailed 
 that men by the use of their senses and their reason might 
 come to some sure knowledge of truth. The knowledge 
 so acquired was indeed limited; but was not merely 
 " subjective/' as now defined by Kant. 
 
 The " Critique of Pure Reason " contains an elaborate 
 analysis and classification of our rules of thought, here 
 styled categories. In the language of every-day life, these 
 are the forms in which the materials supplied by sensation 
 are arranged; the forms are ours, but would be left empty 
 if our experience did not supply contents. The contents, 
 however, are merely phenomena, and the sum of all that we 
 can know is finite. The negative results of the analysis are 
 obvious. For our " pure reason" no proof of God's exist- 
 ence can be valid, says Kant. On the other side, it has 
 been asserted, that our greatest possible idea of the Supreme 
 Being must imply the notion of his existence. For if it 
 does not, says Anselm, we may add to our idea of God the 
 predicate of his existence ; and then our greatest idea will 
 be made greater which is absurd. Few now will accept 
 the schoolman's logic; but the truth which he would 
 demonstrate is by many accepted intuitively ; it is still 
 maintained by many thoughtful men, that the idea of God 
 implies his existence. The denial of Kant in this instance 
 is in the highest degree important, and lays bare as it were 
 the whole basis of his subjective philosophy. He asserts in 
 fact that between our highest idea of a Supreme Being, and 
 the truth that He exists, there is no rational union. Yet 
 he adds, that what we cannot know, we must believe ; for 
 our moral conscience actually demands our belief in the 
 existence of God. This is a doctrine earnestly enforced by 
 Kant ; but it does not affect the conclusion that, in accord- 
 ance with his own intellectual system, he is compelled to 
 say : Man cannot know that God exists ; in other words, 
 our intellect is atheistic, though our moral conscience, if 
 
154 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 obeyed, must lead us to God. In the ideas of God, immor- 
 tality, and retribution, the problems mooted by our con- 
 science find their solution. 
 
 As soon as Kant begins to speak of ethics immutable, 
 absolute, divine he assumes the stern tone of a lawgiver. 
 The law is absolute, he says, and to obey is your duty; 
 therefore you are free, for no slavery is moral ; and you can 
 obey; for absolute reason does not contradict itself by 
 demanding an obedience that is impossible. True; the 
 sacrifice of your present happiness may be demanded. The 
 ultimate union of duty and happiness is postulated by the 
 authority demanding your obedience ; but obedience must 
 not be made dependent on any calculation or expectation of 
 reward. That would make all morality dependent on acci- 
 dents or probabilities. " Act so that your own act may 
 exemplify a rule of conduct for all men." This is your rule 
 of life, says Kant ; and it is one that can be made subject 
 to no conditions. It is a law to be obeyed as one pro- 
 claimed by the voice of God Himself. Not in the sphere of 
 the intellect, but here, in the sanctuary of conscience, you 
 must recognize the immediate presence of an absolute 
 authority. In a word, your conscience is your guide. 
 
 Next may be noticed briefly those doctrines of religion 
 which Kant accepts or recognizes, as doctrines correspond- 
 ing well with his ethics. A life of perfect goodness or 
 holiness, he says, is demanded by the law within us, and 
 therefore the realization of such a life must be possible. 
 There is therefore a summum bonum attainable by man, 
 though not in the present life; he is therefore immortal, 
 and is capable of enjoying true happiness a harmony of 
 his whole being. The natural will of man must eventually 
 be made accordant with the holiness demanded by the law 
 within us. Such harmony here interrupted by evil can 
 be restored only by One whose goodness and power are 
 absolute. We are thus led on not by our intellect, but 
 by our moral endeavour to believe, not only that God 
 exists, but also " that he is a rewarder of them that dili- 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 155 
 
 gently seek him." It is thus seen that Kant is led by his 
 moral inquiry to a practical theism, according well with 
 Words worth's teaching in the lines following : 
 
 " One adequate support 
 For the calamities of mortal life 
 Exists one only an assured belief 
 That the procession of our fate, howe'er 
 Sad or disturb'd, is order'd by a Being 
 Of infinite benevolence and power, 
 Whose everlasting purposes embrace 
 All accidents, converting them to good. 
 The darts of anguish fix not where the seat 
 Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified 
 By acquiescence in the Will supreme 
 For time and for eternity by faith, 
 Faith absolute in G-od, including hope, 
 And the defence that lies in boundless love 
 Of His perfections ; with habitual dread 
 Of aught unworthily conceived, endured 
 Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone 
 To the dishonour of His holy name." 
 
 Does Kant find rest, or a solution of all moral questions, 
 in the creed of theism ? No. He has so far described an 
 ethical system that ought to exist ; but the question must 
 arise he is too veracious to suppress it " Where and when 
 has this code of moral laws, so clearly defined, ever been 
 enforced or made actual among mankind t" Kant now 
 turns to consider the actual state of human nature; he sets 
 aside the abstract and Utopian notions of Rousseau and the 
 popular philosophers; and he confesses a fact too well 
 known, yet by them denied or concealed the sinfulness of 
 human nature. There is, he says, " a radical evil " in the 
 heart of man. The order that ought to exist there does 
 not exist; on the contrary, to a deplorable extent the 
 natural will enslaves the moral, and sensualism predominates 
 over mind and soul. As the Church tells us, man is fallen 
 sinful guilty. This is the conviction by which Kant is 
 led to study the relations existing between his own ethical 
 
156 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 system on one side and Christian teaching on the other. 
 His inquiry leads him on to admit such truths as these : 
 that in the warfare of good and evil, waged in the heart of 
 man as in society, and in the world at large, ethical teaching 
 like his own, however true, must be feeble ; to enforce moral 
 laws authority is required, such as abstract reasonings can 
 never have; all good men must be united together, and 
 firmly, in order to oppose the overwhelming spread of 
 evil; they must have the strength of a large incorpo- 
 ration, and the body of which they are members must have 
 a Head ideal, ever present, and supremely authoritative, 
 though not visible in a word, the actual moral state of 
 mankind requires the aid of the Church founded by Christ. 
 
 This remarkable confession suggests the question Did 
 Kant accept the Gospel as a divine revelation ; or did he 
 accept only the ethics of Christianity ? 
 
 Veracity was a noble trait in the character of Kant. He 
 had taught, that ethics must be regarded as the substance 
 of religion; that vieir main principle from which their 
 several laws might easily be deduced was one clearly 
 manifest in the conscience of mankind. It would appa- 
 rently follow, that no divine revelation could be required ; 
 it might indeed on Kant's own grounds be contended, that 
 no such revelation was possible. But the sincerity of the 
 almost self-sufficient moralist now compelled him to make 
 a sacrifice of philosophical consistency. However dear to 
 him his renown for logical thinking, magis arnica veritas was 
 his motto, whenever he had to describe facts. It is " an 
 undeniable fact," said he, that there is in human nature a 
 radical, original tendency to evil. Here then the first pre- 
 supposition of the Gospel the fact so long denied by 
 English, French, and German deists was, as it were, re- 
 discovered ; not by an orthodox theologian, but by an inde- 
 pendent philosopher one who might justly claim a higher 
 title ; for he was eminently a truthful man. Of all the 
 errors or delusions spread so widely in the eighteenth 
 century, the deadliest and (as wilful) the least pardonable, 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 157 
 
 was the error most popular a resolute suppressio veri, 
 respecting the corrupted moral state of mankind. 
 
 Kant's highest merit was his exposure of this gross 
 delusion. It is not suggested that he accepted Christian 
 doctrine as a whole. Certainly not; but he discovered, 
 through his own sincere inquiry, that the ethical teaching 
 of the Gospel as a revealed way of salvation did truly 
 correspond with the actual condition of mankind, and with 
 facts concealed by the men who (in his day) were calling 
 themselves "the friends of the human race." It was a 
 time of revolutionary teaching ; and the doctrine of man's 
 perfect innocence was very popular when Kant published 
 his refutation of the error say rather, his denial of the 
 falsehood. This denial gave a death-blow to the deistic ethics 
 of the eighteenth century. 
 
 The heart of man his inmost will said Kant, has been 
 perverted. A rebellion has occurred, and legislative reason 
 is dethroned. Anarchy has been produced by some myste- 
 rious cause, of which I can give no account. The motive 
 force that ought to be predominant is suppressed; the 
 sensual nature that should be held in subordination is pre- 
 dominant. This is not a superficial, but a radical evil. 
 And the remedy must be radical. The will of man requires 
 a change that must be called a " regeneration." But how 
 shall such a change be introduced ? The world demands the 
 energy of a collective moral will, and this moral will must 
 be incorporated, and must have the institutions, and 
 exercise the functions of the Christian Church. Its Head 
 and Founder must be esteemed as an absolute Lawgiver 
 one who, in God's name, publishes a new moral law, which, 
 in fact, must be a revival of the original law that ought to be 
 contained in our conscience. The ideal must be a Person 
 whom men may behold as an historical example of divine 
 holiness. Truth and goodness embodied must be made 
 clearly manifest ; or must be constantly held up, as it 
 were, by the Church, so that the Ideal Man may be 
 seen by men, and may exert an attractive influence over 
 their hearts. That which man has to do in himself and for 
 
158 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 himself, must first of all be set forth before him ; and must 
 first be viewed as a work already done for him. [This thought 
 given with some expansion is made prominent in the 
 later religious philosophy of Fichte and Hegel.] The true 
 ideal of man as he ought to be Kant goes on to say the 
 ideal of pure humanity, " well-pleasing in the sight of God," 
 must be set forth and fully displayed in the clear portraiture 
 of a Person absolutely good, yet deeply suffering, and in 
 patience bearing all his sorrows and all for the sake of 
 mankind ; yea, dying, in order to gain for them liberation 
 from the power of evil. This is the most efficacious way of 
 leading humanity back to its first or normal self-destination ; . 
 and this as we have been told is " to be holy." 
 
 Strange as it must appear, the fact must here be clearly 
 stated, that Kant here portraying an ideal required by 
 mankind is not asserting his own historical belief respecting 
 the Person of Christ. By a want of faith in Christ true God 
 and true man Kant is led at last to self-contradiction. His 
 ideal theory pf the Christian Church, and the work it has to 
 fulfil, can never be made accordant with the arbitrary 
 limitation of his belief respecting the Founder of the Church. 
 On this most important point further remarks may here be 
 postponed. We go on to make complete the analysis of 
 Kant's religious teaching; especially his doctrine respecting 
 the primary sanction and the duty of the Christian Church. 
 Its aid, he confesses, is required by mankind. How has 
 this aid been provided ? 
 
 How was the Christian Church first established ? What 
 is the office of the Church ? What is the end toward which 
 the Church should always be tending ? In his attempt to 
 answer the first of these questions, Kant's philosophy leaves 
 him in a serious difficulty something like that of building 
 without a foundation. He describes the Church as an 
 institution claiming historical authority, yet acting only 
 as locum tenens for a better institution i.e. a school of 
 independent morals. In a word, to the first query Kant 
 gives no historical and objective reply. His subjective 
 reply amounts to this : that the Church has been founded 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MOEAL PHILOSOPHY. 159 
 
 how none can tell in order to give aid in the establish- 
 ment of good moral principles. Kant once wrote an 
 essay on modern astronomy. If there he had said 
 nothing of Kepler's life and work, the essay would have 
 been something like his theory respecting the Christian 
 Church. The office of the Church, he says, is to teach 
 morals, which have long been too much mingled with 
 matters belongiug to history and positive doctrine. Ulti- 
 mately, these excrescences will be destroyed ; the moral 
 conscience, then enlightened partly through the aid of the 
 Church will resume its normal autonomy, and that which 
 has long been proclaimed as a revelation will reappear as 
 the result of reason. Here Kant ascribes his own narrow 
 meaning to the text, " When that which is perfect is 
 come, that which is in part shall be done away." And 
 next, in order to make clear his intention, the philosopher 
 goes on to say the integuments required for the sustenta- 
 tion of man's life while existent only in embryo, are cast 
 aside when the man is born. Thus his views of morals lead 
 him to desire a gradual extinction of all religion. To our 
 own ethical reason, he says, rightly belongs autonomy ; 
 that is to say, its authority ought to be found in itself. It 
 is our moral debility, induced by our habitual sinfulness, 
 that now requires the aid of a Church, proclaiming as the 
 law of God the very same law that ought to be effectually 
 proclaimed by our own conscience. Revelation thus makes 
 sooner, more generally, and more effectually known, that 
 which would be already known by our ethical reason, if it 
 still remained firm in its normal state. 
 
 An invisible Church, he says, is a collective name for all 
 good men who are striving for a general restoration of 
 moral supremacy, which is already established in their 
 own conscience. But for the guidance of all other men the 
 aid of a visible Church is urgently required. Here Kant's 
 notion of revelation substantially agrees with Lessing's 
 idea (p. 72) respecting a gradual and educational revelation 
 of truth such truth as might be discovered by reason. 
 
160 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 As regards her ethical principles, the Church must have 
 unity, purity of intention, and unalterable permanence ; but 
 as regards ecclesiastical union a common submission to 
 a moral authority embodied in the Church every member 
 must be free. In strict theory, the Church should have no 
 traditional or doctrinal institutes, save such as may, in the 
 course of time, and as the results of his own moral educa- 
 tion, be made clear to the conscience of every man. These 
 results, he now finds, are identical with the first principles 
 of his own ethical reason. But through the imperfection of 
 human nature, matters non-essential must, in the course 
 of time, become more or less mingled with the primal 
 ethical institutes of the Church. Men at large are not 
 disposed to believe that true morality alone is true religion, 
 and is indeed the sole worship that God can require. So 
 it has come to pass, that the Church still retains and must 
 probably for some time longer retain certain statutory 
 definitions, or institutes of doctrine, as well as such ethical 
 laws as are essential fundamental eternal. The more all 
 fixed tenets or positive doctrines are made subordinate ; the 
 more all dogmas are made subservient to the establishment 
 of true ethics, and the autonomy of conscience the better 
 will the Church fulfil her duty ; and the end to be always 
 kept in view, is a gradual subordination of all history and 
 all positive doctrine to one grand purpose to establish, as 
 universal and well-known laws of life, the pure morals of 
 Christianity. This is the true coming of the Kingdom of 
 Heaven. 
 
 .And thus we add when the normal ethical condition 
 of mankind is restored, the world will see the end of all 
 religion. Nothing less than this is the result of Kant's 
 theory, as given in his book on " Religion within the 
 bounds of Pure Reason." Its sum and substance ia 
 morality nothing more. 
 
 Turning to notice the philosopher's own expositions of 
 several Christian doctrines, we are again led to the same 
 result. For him salvation through a Mediator is simply 
 
161 
 
 equivalent to a sense of moral improvement and liberation 
 from guilt both attendant on a persevering imitation of 
 Christ's example. The endeavour, we are assured,, will be 
 accepted as full and perfect service by One who knows the 
 heart and regards especially our intention. Our obedience 
 must cost us more or less pain, which may be regarded as 
 making some atonement for past transgression. As to the 
 future, we need entertain no fear, while our consciousness of 
 making progress in the way of obedience is attended with 
 a hope of final perseverance. Here it is clear, that our own 
 virtue is made the basis of our faith. 
 
 Again we are led to the same conclusion that morality is 
 the substance of religion when we come to notice Kant's 
 general rule for the interpretation and practical use of Holy 
 Scripture. Explain the Scriptures freely, he says, and in 
 such a way that you may derive from them a maximum of 
 moral instruction. Even secondary meanings, or those 
 gained by a way of interpretation sometimes called forced, 
 may be allowed, when the result is found useful. The 
 preacher, says Kant, should be less concerned to determine 
 the original sense of a text, than to draw from it something 
 suited to the moral wants of his hearers. Here Kant 
 allows that free kind of exegesis sometimes called 
 accommodation. 
 
 It excites no surprise to find, that under the general name 
 ff superstitions," Kant practically rejects several ideas and 
 sentiments usually regarded as belonging essentially to 
 religion. Judaism he describes as no religion, but merely 
 an instrumentum regni ; and heathen religions ancient 
 and modern are treated as so many superstitions, almost 
 meaningless. Of religion, as it has existed in all ages of the 
 world's history excepting perhaps our own the basis has 
 been, not opinion or doctrine, but a common profound feeling 
 of union with, and dependence upon, the Unknown ; and this 
 feeling has been ever attended with some desire here 
 more or less obscurely, there more or less clearly expressed 
 to know something of the Unknown above all, to know 
 
 11 
 
162 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 something of the unseen Power or Will by which our own 
 will must be limited, if not altogether controlled. Here, in 
 this desire, is the common ground in which all religions are 
 rooted ; and here, in the desire to know more than our own 
 instincts natural or moral can tell us, is the fact by which 
 religion is made distinct from morality. There has always 
 existed in mankind a religious instinct, and it remains when 
 men are fairly well-informed respecting their duties to them- 
 selves and to their neighbours. Well-educated men, and 
 those hardly knowing more than the rudiments of morals, 
 are alike interested in the questions to which religion gives 
 answers. They do not go to church, or to chapel, merely to 
 obtain clear knowledge respecting their practical duties; 
 but to confess their common dependence, to adore where 
 they cannot understand, and to pray for aid while living, 
 and when passing away into an unknown state of existence. 
 Hence the religious instinct is usually most earnest and 
 active in the minds of men, when they are made conscious 
 of approaching death. Least of all can they at that time 
 require instruction respecting their duties in this life. The 
 day of their probation is ending. The relations of all the 
 facts of their past life can now be changed by no will, and 
 by no act on their own part. The last thought, the last 
 word whatever the life may have been usually implies 
 some admission of the fact, that there exists in the heart of 
 man a religious instinct, and one that must naturally at 
 some time lead to earnest inquiry. The act of inquiry may 
 indeed be long suppressed by a powerful will ; but in this 
 case the act of suppression is purely wilful, and neither 
 sincere nor satisfactory. 
 
 Such religion so-called as was most narrowly defined 
 by Kant might indeed suffice for himself ; but for men at 
 large it is simply a negation of religion. For him the 
 church was a lecture-room, where his friend Lilienthal 
 delivered lectures on morals, sometimes interrupted by 
 dogmatic passages that might as the philosopher held 
 be better omitted. But of course, Kant, as a man well 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PJHLOSOPHY. 163 
 
 instructed fn the way of righteousness, seldom attended 
 public worship say rather moral instruction. He regarded 
 the Church as an institution for the improvement of people, 
 comparatively speaking, uneducated. 
 
 To these uneducated people the philosopher had really 
 nothing to give which they would have accepted, had they 
 understood clearly the utter poverty of his theology. To 
 them he had nothing to say of any divine grace ready to 
 aid their weak and imperfect endeavours toward obedience. 
 The notion of such aid, he said, was one of which his 
 practical reason could tell nothing, and one, moreover, that 
 might very easily lead to self-delusion. Prayer he could 
 not for a moment recognize as having any connection with 
 rational religion. In every act of prayer is implied, he says, 
 the absurdity of giving information respecting our wants to 
 One who knows all things. The practice of offering prayer 
 is one of the vestiges of superstition, and should be abolished 
 .Lastly, the same sort of reasoning was applied to the Sacra* 
 ments of the Lutheran Church. 
 
 Such were the dreary results of Kant's theory, so far as 
 religion was concerned. Yet so poverty-stricken was the 
 theology of his day, that its professors were glad to borrow 
 from his admissions some items by which their own teaching 
 might be confirmed. Thus there arose a Kantian School of 
 Supranaturalism, and of course in opposition to that school 
 was soon founded a Kantian School of Rationalism. 
 
 The philosopher's admission of " a radical evil" in human 
 nature was connected by Staudlein and other writers with 
 the conclusion, that the revelation clearly required had 
 been given. On the other hand it was contended, that 
 actions, however good, if performed simply in order to 
 please God, could " not be rightly called moral." By several 
 theologians it was suggested, that Christianity, as amended 
 and improved by Kantian criticism, might now be made 
 almost perfect ; at least acceptable as an established religion 
 for the future. This modest opinion was especially main- 
 
 11 * 
 
164 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 tained by AMMON, in his work on " Christianity as a 
 Religion for the Future/' 
 
 On the whole, the success attending these and other 
 attempts to connect Kantian teaching with the Christian 
 Religion was slight and unsatisfactory. Years afterwards, 
 however, another attempt of the kind was made, and now by 
 an English theologian Prof. MANS EL in his book on the 
 " Limits of Religious Thought." His doctrine was soon 
 and ably opposed by several theologians especially by 
 MAURICE, in his book entitled " What is Revelation ?" (1859) 
 and by M'Cosn, in his work on " Intuitions of the Mind" 
 (1860), The aim of Mansel to restore the diminished 
 credit of evidences exclusively historical was to a large 
 extent frustrated by his own endeavours. 
 
 It is far easier to give the negative than the positive 
 results of Kant's teaching. First, he destroyed as 
 many in his day believed all the bases of the deistic or 
 popular philosophy that for some years had been prevalent. 
 He certainly destroyed its moral basis. 
 
 The general aim of deism was like his own aim to 
 reduce religion to a code of morals ; but something called 
 <( Natural Religion" was still tolerated. This, however, 
 contained nothing that could lead to anything noble in 
 morals. Consequently, the rules of conduct that now 
 served as substitutes for morals were hardly more than 
 rules founded on the principle of " self-interest well under- 
 stood." In plain words, they were so many rules for the 
 convenient practice of selfishness. Everywhere man himself 
 as he is needing no liberation in his own nature, and of 
 course seeking none was taught, that he must as soon as 
 possible liberate himself from all " the snares of priest- 
 craft ;" that is to say, from all the claims of historical and 
 positive religion. First of all, the man truly ' ' enlightened " 
 must deny the fact of his own moral depravity, and then he 
 must abolish from his memory every idea of a regeneration 
 like that demanded by Christianity. 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 165 
 
 To satisfy this first demand of " reason," even natural 
 theology must be reduced to a minimum, lower than the 
 belief of Socrates and Plato. For every effect a cause must 
 be supposed; there was therefore left undisturbed the 
 notion of an Omnipotent and Supreme Being one who in 
 the beginning had created the heavens and the earth, and 
 had then left them as a perfect automaton, to maintain for 
 ever their own undisturbed routine, while men were left 
 destitute of all knowledge of God, save that which might be 
 obtained by their occasional study of themselves and of the 
 created world. 
 
 As regards their natural religion especially their true 
 doctrine, that the wisdom, power, and benevolence of the 
 Creator are displayed in the world around us Kant, led 
 on by Hume's atheistic, notion, was unreasonably severe 
 in his treatment of the popular philosophers. His own 
 utter denial of the proposition, that we may " look through 
 nature up to nature's God," is paradoxical, unscriptural, and 
 unchristian in an eminent degree. In other respects, his 
 criticism often fair and urgently required was on the 
 whole most destructive. He went on to say That the 
 popular philosophy was based upon nothing ; that its 
 supposed proofs of the being of God, of moral freedom, and 
 of immortality, were all unsound ; and lastly, that the 
 morals called " eudaimonistic," or " utilitarian," were just 
 the opposite of all ethical laws proclaimed as by the 
 voice of God himself in the eternal sanctum of man's 
 conscience. It is not to be wondered at, if Nicolai and 
 many of his friends spoke partly with derision, partly with 
 terror, of Kant's new criticism. Others, who rejoiced when 
 they saw him going on from victory to victory, bestowed on 
 him a quasi-martial title " Zermalmer," the " crusher " 
 a title more befitting Tamerlane, the destructive conqueror 
 of Asia. 
 
 Instead of the morals so-called which he abolished, 
 Kant endeavoured to establish a code of hard and im- 
 practicable laws, belonging essentially, he said, to the 
 
166 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 inmost conscience of mankind. These immutable and 
 sublime laws of man's conscience he likens to those of the 
 solar system. The moral law within him was for him no 
 private possession, no peculiarity, but was viewed as a fair 
 copy of the universal law proclaimed in the centre of the 
 moral universe. For him this centre is man's conscience ; 
 or, to use his own words, man's " practical reason." Its 
 dictates, we are assured, are as pure, as high, as those 
 commonly recognized as divinely authoritative, because they 
 belong to a revealed religion. When the relationship of 
 this religion with our own conscience is denned, Kant 
 ascribes both priority and autonomy to the latter. The 
 conscience may accept, but should not require, the aid of 
 any faith. Thus man, left utterly unaided whether by a 
 revelation of God's will, or by any divine grace, or by a 
 hope of any reward must be ready to obey, when duty 
 demands even the sacrifice of his own life. Thus, for 
 example, he writes of a true patriotic devotion : <( The 
 heroism of the man who sacrifices his life for the welfare of 
 his country may raise some doubts and scruples, even in the 
 midst of our admiration, as long as we do not see clearly 
 that it was his absolute duty so to act. But when we see in 
 an action a sacrifice of apparent honour, or happiness, or 
 life, to the f uln'lment of an undoubted duty, the neglect of 
 which would be a violation of divine and human law when 
 there is no choice save between duty performed at the cost 
 of life, and life preserved by an immoral action, and when 
 the former course is resolutely taken here there is no 
 scruple, no reserve in our approbation ; we say at once, ' It 
 is good ;' and we are proud to see that human nature can 
 thus lift itself above all the inclinations and passions of the 
 sensuous world." 
 
 Such teaching is in its way sublime ; but it has neither 
 the winning gentleness nor the efficacy of Christian teaching. 
 Whence is derived our clear knowledge of the existence 
 and of the sole authority of such a conscience as is here 
 defined ? On what authority do these hard and exclusive 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MOEAL PHILOSOPHY. 167 
 
 assertions rest? Kant replies only by saying again and 
 again in effect : " Conscience is absolute/' 
 
 So much for abstract theory, or the beau ideal of men as 
 they are not ; of ethics with which in this world we do not 
 come into contact. This is confessed by the philosopher. 
 The moral evils arising out of the heart of man pride, 
 concupiscence, envy and hate make impotent the law that 
 has been called eternal. All these and other sinful passions 
 are collected by Kant under the name of a " radical evil " 
 afflicting the inmost heart of humanity. To quell the evil, 
 the philosopher next invokes the aid of the Christian 
 Religion. 
 
 At the same time, he tacitly refuses to admit the divine 
 origin of that religion. Its Founder Himself is allowed to 
 hold only a secondary place in his own Church, which again 
 holds a secondary place, as an instrumentum regni, and is 
 to be dismissed when its subsidiary work is done. 
 
 Lastly, in his theory of morals and in his treatment of 
 Christianity he has most strongly aided in spreading the error, 
 of all moral errors now the most prevalent the notion, that 
 a faith, inspired with a divine ardour of love, may die may 
 pass away and be known no more ; and yet its essence, its 
 sum and substance, as expressed in pure ethics may remain. 
 This was the teaching of the philosopher Immanuel Kant. 
 The ethics he chiefly recommends are, in fact and for the 
 most part, true Christian ethics. They have, in fact, religion 
 for their foundation ; yet he claims for them, both priority 
 and autonomy; that is to say, an absolute independence 
 with regard to the claims of religion. His bold teaching on 
 this point has been widely followed. Poets of the more 
 thoughtful class for example Schiller have found an 
 attractive sublimity in the moral doctrine of Kant, and it 
 has sometimes been expressed in the language of majestic 
 verse. The error of a thinker like Kant must of course be 
 subtle, and demands respectful criticism. At the same 
 time, and in defiance of his authority, these two historical 
 sequences must be distinctly maintained : The ethics of 
 
168 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Christianity belong to Christianity, and those of deism 
 belong to deism. And between the two there lies a deep 
 gulf. To demonstrate the inevitable nature of these two 
 sequences, nothing more is required than the experience 
 that time must bring ; and without that aid the truth may 
 even now be seen, if we are but willing to see it. 
 
 " Morals " and ' ' ethics " are two names for a series of 
 results ; and where these results have been fixed or made 
 stable, they have been called institutions of society. 
 Without a doubt, men, wherever even a rude society has been 
 established, have found in themselves a capacity of acting in 
 concert for a general aim, and when aided only by their 
 own associated experience have risen to a certain level of 
 moral culture. The culture we have at the present day is 
 partly Teutonic, and partly Christian. On each side we 
 have sure results. Our capacity of labour, our greed of 
 wealth, our courage, and our tenacity of purpose these, 
 and other constituents of a strong natural character, have 
 been derived from our ancestry not from Christianity. 
 Our religion has a generous nature, and should be defended 
 by an historical argument having a tone of generosity. Let 
 it then be also granted freely, that such hardy virtues as 
 love of national freedom not of true and individual free- 
 dom martial courage, and general manliness of character 
 once had a home among rude Teutonic tribes dwelling in 
 the central forests of Europe, in the time of undisturbed 
 heathenism ; but let it be remembered also that, in all 
 probability, had no Christian revelation appeared among 
 them, those tribes would long ago have destroyed the 
 last vestiges of Roman civilization. Next, in all proba- 
 bility, they themselves would have perished through their 
 own incessant tendency to internecine warfare. The his- 
 torical grounds of this supposition must be noticed in 
 another place. They are here only briefly referred to, in 
 order to indicate one of the errors most prevalent in the 
 time of Kant : a neglect or slight notice of the lessons 
 taught by history an error too noticeable in many deistio 
 
169 
 
 and humanitarian theorists of his time, and especially 
 noticeable in Kant himself, a man of clear intellect and high 
 morality. His belief in God ; his regard for the dictates 
 of inviolable justice ; his hope of immortality all were 
 derived from the Christian instruction imparted to him in 
 the days of his childhood. 
 
 An alliance of independent morality with religion is pro- 
 posed in Kant's theory ; while he regards expediency as a 
 motive strong enough to make the alliance permanent. In 
 his time it was hardly doubted that in substance religion 
 and morality are altogether one and the same. The sub- 
 stance of religion consists it is supposed in certain moral 
 precepts, such as ought to be known and may be practised 
 without the aid of revelation and faith. Such aid for a 
 time required by an abnormal state of our conscience must 
 be regarded only as a temporary expedient. As soon as 
 true morality is established, the service of religion will be 
 ended. All this is equivalent to an assertion that man's 
 normal condition should be one of moral independence. It 
 follows that when our moral training in the preparatory 
 school of religion has been received, in the form or under the 
 name of a revelation,, there will follow a time when the 
 man will " put away childish things " that is to say, all 
 notions essentially religious our sense of dependence on 
 God's mercy, our duty of submission, our belief in the aid of 
 divine grace, with every thought that can lead to prayer 
 all must be abolished. At the same time it is presumed 
 that pure ethical ideas, once made known to us, as if by 
 revelation, will still remain ever permanent in the conscience 
 of man. The building will remain firm, while the old basis 
 is being removed, and a new foundation will in the mean- 
 time be safely laid. 
 
 This is an experiment suggested as reasonable by Kant, 
 and by other independent moralists. The value of their 
 suggestion must be tested by means of fair and studious 
 reference to the facts recorded in history. When and where, 
 we must ask, have such pure morals as those called Christian 
 
170 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 ever existed without a basis in some authority firmer than, 
 human reason ? Authority is justly claimed by statutory 
 laws, and by legal precedents, by teachers, and by judges ; 
 especially by statesmen as representatives of venerable 
 political institutions ; and in all ordinary and peaceful times, 
 reference to such authority may suffice to preserve social 
 order. But it should never be forgotten that, in order to 
 be firm, all finite and secular claims of authority over men 
 must be defined as subordinate to eternal first principles. 
 When the very first principles of humanity and society are 
 called in question ; when the primitive authority of govern- 
 ment is discussed as it must be by a free people where 
 will any sure basis or ultimate resting-place be found, if the 
 authority of religion be destroyed ? All that is said here 
 respecting social and political institutions will apply with 
 still greater force to the moral laws those laws founded on 
 feelings less definite but more powerful than written statutes 
 the laws that must govern first the individual man, then 
 the family, the corporation, and the state. 
 
 The notion that true morals have for any considerable 
 time existed, or that they can exist without union with a 
 religious sanction, is a gross error, though one that has 
 often been made plausible and to a considerable extent 
 has been supported by the teaching of such a philosopher as 
 Kant. The system of man's rational and moral autonomy 
 to which he would lead us, is one that has never been tried 
 in practice ; indeed it is one that has never yet been clearly 
 expounded, even as a theory. It remains to this day as a 
 theory inextricably mingled more or less with ethical 
 vestiges of Christian teaching. 
 
 A new creed or system of notions say either deism or 
 Kantian ethics cannot be suddenly made a substitute for a 
 creed or a doctrine once firmly or historically established. 
 The old must inevitably be confused more or less with the 
 new. Deism, and even atheism itself, will accept aid from 
 the religion denied. The compound so made does not fairly, 
 and for a long time to come cannot, represent any moral belief 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 171 
 
 held by Socrates, by Plato, by Aristotle, or by Seneca. The 
 morality of modern deism is in fact a syncretism a mixture 
 of the old with the new " made up " (so to speak) by men 
 who for the most part have been educated as Christians. 
 Consequently, they have connected, in a mechanical way 
 that is to say by a mere ' ' putting together " the morals, 
 and even certain sentiments vitally belonging to their old 
 belief, with cold and bare abstractions belonging to their 
 new system, and grounded, as they say, on their independent 
 reason. 
 
 Hence has arisen a deceptive confusion of ideas. It is 
 mostly taken for granted that certain rudiments of morals 
 such as are a bare sine qua non of society -may exist 
 among men hardly otherwise made distinct from other animals. 
 So far law or incipient morality may exist, it is presumed, 
 without the aid of religion. But that Christian morals can 
 still remain practical, when separated from the faith that 
 hitherto has given them life and strength this is an 
 uuhistorical notion, however widely it may now be spread 
 abroad. 
 
 It is therefore important to notice how this false notion 
 has been supported by able writers by Kant ; also by 
 Fichte in his earlier teaching; but especially by Carlyle. 
 It may seem bold to oppose a thesis maintained by such 
 authorities; for their thesis has been made a dogma; and 
 their philosophy will not allow an opponent to refer either 
 to Holy Scripture, or to the writings of any men who might 
 be regarded as Christian apologists. 
 
 We have here to encounter first the judgment of Kant 
 an author usually called a hard thinker. It may there- 
 fore be proper in this place to refer to the judgment of 
 another metaphysician one who in close sequence of 
 thought was certainly not inferior, while as regards compre- 
 hensive historical knowledge, he was far in advance of 
 Kant. In opposition to Kant's doctrine of absolute or 
 independent morality, his philosophical successor, Hegel, 
 defines religion as the essential basis of morality. True 
 
 
172 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 freedom the first condition of a moral life is, lie tells us, 
 founded on religion; and more definitely he next asserts 
 that the only possible basis of freedom must be found in 
 the Christian Religion. 
 
 "It is in the Christian religion alone that the basis of a 
 general and progressive freedom is found. The law of an 
 external liberation of slaves is derived from the Authority 
 who also demands that our internal liberation should be 
 realized ; and the two laws can never be separated. Moral 
 liberation and political freedom must advance together. 
 The process must demand some vast space of time for its 
 full realization ; but it is the law of the world's progress. 
 The history of the world is a record of endeavours to 
 realize the idea of freedom, and of progress surely made, but 
 not without many intervals of apparent failure and retro- 
 gression. Among modern failures the French Revolution 
 of the eighteenth century was the most remarkable. It 
 was an endeavour to realize a boundless external liberation 
 without the indispensable condition of moral freedom. 
 Abstract notions based merely on the understanding, and 
 having no power to control the natural will of man, assumed 
 the functions of morality and religion, and so led to the 
 dissolution of society and to the social and political diffi- 
 culties in the midst of which we are now labouring/' 
 
 Hegel spoke (in 1830) of a time coming when Atomism 
 would prevail in politics, as once in physical science, and 
 men would " put down a government, simply because it was 
 a government." In the concluding sections of his " Ency- 
 clopaedia" (1st edition, 1817), he speaks still more distinctly, 
 if possible, of the indissoluble union of true morals and 
 religion with free and firm political institutions. " Mora- 
 lity," he says, " is the substance of the State ; or, in other 
 words, the State is the development and affirmation of the 
 people's united moral will ; but religion is the substance of 
 both moral and political life. The State is founded on the 
 moral character of the people, and their morality is founded 
 on their religion. Laws are accepted as just and right, so 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 173 
 
 far as they are generally felt and known to be the practical 
 dictates of a true religion. By an inquiry into the bases 
 of morals we are thus led back to religion, and, with regard 
 to the education of the individual, it is true that he can be 
 led only through ethics to a true knowledge of the divine 
 character. There is no other way that leads to a true 
 religion ; and thus it might appear that morals should be 
 described as the basis of religion. But this is true only 
 with respect to the sequence that takes place in our train- 
 ing. The basis of the laws to which men submit must 
 exist prior to all the laws that are founded upon it. It is 
 the root from which they spring, or the underlying sub- 
 stance of their existence. Apart from all metaphysical 
 discussions on the relations of religion and morals, the 
 truth remains, that they must ever be viewed as inseparable. 
 There cannot be two consciences in a man, one for practical 
 and another for religious interests. Accordingly as he 
 deeply and sincerely believes, so he will act. Religion 
 must be the basis of morals, and morality must be the 
 foundation of a State. 
 
 " It is the monstrous error of our times to wish to 
 regard these inseparables [religion, morals, and politics] 
 as if they were separable, one from the others; yea, as if 
 they were even indifferent to one another. Accordingly, 
 the relation of religion with the State is viewed as if the 
 latter, first of all, had an independent existence in itself, by 
 virtue of some power and authority not derived from 
 religion as if the religious element might be viewed apart, 
 either as a subjective disposition of individuals, inducing 
 them to yield obedience to the State, or as an indifferent 
 matter, or, at best, as something merely desirable as an aid 
 in supporting the State's authority. This separatist doc- 
 trine implies, in short, the assumption that the State's whole 
 moral system, including its constitution and its laws, as 
 founded on reason, can stand of itself and on its own ground, 
 apart from all religious sanctions." 
 
174 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The error here described as ef a monstrous error" is, in 
 fact, the fundamental principle on which Kant has based 
 his theory that morality is independent, and accepts only 
 as an expedient the aid of religion. 
 
 Kant's philosophy consists of two parts one intellectual, 
 the other moral. Between them there lies a deep gulf. 
 Here is a hopeless dualism, disappointing us where we are 
 seeking for a union or harmony of ideas. The master 
 teaches in two separate schools one for intellectual, the 
 other for moral philosophy and what he says in his first 
 course of lectures, he contradicts in the second. In the 
 first, he leads us to scepticism. We have, he says, general 
 notions that are easily conceivable, and as such are readily 
 accepted by a vast majority of mankind for example, the 
 notion that God created the world nay, it may be shown 
 that among these notions some are inevitable they must 
 be entertained ; yet they still leave us without any assurance 
 of their " objective character." All that we can say truly 
 of them is this : our reasonings, when not duly limited, 
 must lead to such conclusions. But they are merely our 
 conclusions at once inevitable and destitute of a sure 
 basis. The result is of course scepticism. 
 
 Kant nevertheless assures us that we may escape from 
 all scepticism when we enter the world of ethics ; for this is 
 a world that may be called our own. Here we have not to 
 inquire, as before, Do the realities of the world of sense 
 agree with our notions ? All such thoughts are dismissed. 
 The truth, the authority, of moral ideas intuitively known 
 now gives validity even to our own laws of reasoning. 
 [Here is an example of "dualism."] Here, he says, we 
 may apply our law of causality, to confirm our belief in 
 the existence of God. Our sure idea of justice demands a 
 final award respecting all actions, whether good or evil. 
 This award God alone as One omniscient, perfectly just, 
 and omnipotent can truly determine. Therefore, as truly 
 as justice exists, so surely must we hold that a final and 
 
CHAPTER vii. KANT'S MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 175 
 
 just award will be made ; and so surely must we also believe 
 that God will finally " render unto every man according to 
 his works." 
 
 The doctrine thus given, with some show of reasoning, 
 amounts to little more than Bishop Butler's teaching, which 
 has already been briefly noticed (p. 33). Among all our 
 ideas, says Butler, we have to notice in speaking of ethics 
 only those which have this one characteristic 1 they claim 
 for themselves a pre -eminence called moral in other words, 
 they assert themselves as ideas having authority. This fact 
 leads Butler and Kant to consider next the claims of morals, 
 as leading on to a consideration of the claims of religion. 
 Here their views differ widely. Butler contends that, in 
 concord with the analogy of divine government, the reve- 
 lation required has been granted to mankind. The religious 
 views of Kant have already been analysed, and have been 
 described as leading to no sure basis of historical belief. 
 He leaves at last unanswered such questions as these : Is 
 the religion, morally recommended, to be held as historically 
 true ? Granted that of all aids and encouragements for the 
 maintenance of a, holy life, none can be so efficient, none 
 can afford such clear moral guidance, as the presence of an 
 Ideal, like that set before us in Kant's theory we are still 
 compelled to ask : is that Ideal morally perfect also real, 
 or historically true ? To whom, in the last instance, is 
 obedience to be yielded ? To the voice of an eternal moral 
 law, speaking within our conscience? It has been from 
 the first decided by Kant, that the authority of conscience 
 ought to be absolute ; but the authority so established in 
 theory has been shown to be weak and defective in practice. 
 Accordingly, the aid of the Church has been invoked by our 
 consciousness of a defect in moral strength. We are not, 
 then, practically sure that we may now be solely and safely 
 guided by an independent conscience. Its normal and 
 authoritative voice is too often silent. If, then, we must 
 turn to the Church for aid, must we not first ask, Whence 
 has the Church her authority ? To this last question Kant 
 
176 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 gives no sure historical reply. Had the question been 
 personally addressed to him, he would most probably have 
 referred simply to the dictates of conscience, in the first 
 place, and next to the authority of the State. 
 
 Kant himself acted in a way consistent with his own doc- 
 trine. He knew well all that could be said about morality ; 
 and as this was the sum and substance of religion as he 
 supposed he seldom attended the services of the Church. 
 He maintained however that, by the majority of men, the 
 moral aid that forms of worship and ecclesiastical ordinances 
 might render should not be neglected. Of public worship, 
 regarded as an expression of dependence, faith, thankfulness, 
 and adoration in a word, as a service of both heart and 
 mind, and one alike due from all men, whether ignorant or 
 philosophical his views were very narrow. It should 
 nevertheless be added, that from such irreverence as was 
 common among his rationalistic contemporaries, his own 
 mind was free. There were among his injudicious admirers 
 some who ranked the authority of his teaching with that of 
 the Gospel itself. They even went so far as to speak of 
 him as a moral teacher greater than Christ. Nothing said 
 by the philosopher himself gave any countenance to that 
 gross error. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FIGHTERS RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 KANT left remaining some grounds for doubt respecting 
 the independence of morality. To assert this independence 
 was, nevertheless, the main purpose of all his moral teaching. 
 It was soon brought to a climax in the early teaching of 
 FICHTE the boldest of Kant's disciples who in his first 
 ethical system asserted the autonomy of conscience. The 
 idea of moral order, which man unaided by any revelation 
 can find in himself, and can develop as an universal and 
 authoritative law of life this idea is itself the only light, 
 guide, and religion that humanity can require. Here is all 
 that has ever been true in any religion. The idea of moral 
 order constantly unfolding itself, and making all obstacles 
 subservient to its final victory over the universe this is, 
 said Fichte, our own idea, and is indeed our self-assertion ; 
 at the same time it is our only rational idea of God. Moral 
 order includes all the acts belonging to the life that has 
 been called divine ; and this life is ours. It is our assertion 
 of our own true life. And not only have we the very source 
 of this life in ourselves , it is also true, that we ourselves 
 create all the materials so-called by which our moral life 
 is sustained and developed. There can be no victory 
 without a foregoing opposition. There can be no develop-* 
 ment of our strength without work in overcoming obstacles 
 which we set in opposition to our own will. Consequently, 
 as a means of our moral education, there must be placed 
 before us obstructions destined to be removed out of our 
 way; there must then exist a universe setting itself 
 
 12 
 
178 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 apparently in opposition to our moral will; that is to say, 
 asserting itself apparently as a universe in warfare against 
 ourselves. 
 
 Whence comes that hostile world ? Whence comes the 
 war and fighting of man against the universe of opposition 
 displayed all around us ? From ourselves. 
 
 Yea ; the warfare comes from our own will so says this 
 Titanic philosopher it has been all created by our will, and 
 now must be perpetuated by our will, as a war "never 
 ending, still beginning." 
 
 New oppositions must be created by the same power 
 our will but only m order that they may ever be overcome ; 
 and so the process must go on ad infinitum. Morality is 
 a never-ceasing act. Rest, if possible, could be no reward, 
 but would be a cessation of the act in which our life 
 consists. 
 
 These few assertions represent the practical doctrine of 
 
 Fichte' s first philosophy, which several of his contemporaries 
 
 denounced as a system equivalent to atheism. To defend 
 
 his doctrine of ethics, he had already established in his own 
 
 mind the principles of a new system of metaphysics. The 
 
 sum and substance of all that is asserted in this new 
 
 system was found in a few lines once written by Kant, and 
 
 printed in 1781. That substance, said Fichte, which my 
 
 predecessor has called f{ unknown," is truly as he himself 
 
 has indeed suggested identical with the thinking substance 
 
 say rather activity which in myself and in every man, 
 
 when he is speaking of himself, asserts itself as ego. All 
 
 the phenomena of this world, that we find spread forth 
 
 around us, says Fichte, have their common basis in this one 
 
 permanent activity, calling itself in every one of us ego. 
 
 Now the ego though essentially intelligent cannot know 
 
 itself, unless it be first placed in opposition to a world that 
 
 collectively may be called non-ego. He next proceeds to 
 
 show, that the activity which he calls ego is creative. All the 
 
 phenomena we behold have been produced by our own 
 
 act. It is with reference chiefly to this assertion made in 
 
CHAPTER vin. FICHTE'S RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 179 
 
 his earlier system of philosophy, that -the term ' ' egotistic " 
 (p. 144) has been applied to Fichte. 
 
 This bold new teaching in metaphysics, is in fact a 
 continuation of Kant's first " Critique." There the author 
 starting from the teaching of Hume had left as a 
 something unknown the substance of all phenomena, and 
 consequently had defined his own system as a classification 
 of our subjective laws of thought. Of their objective 
 validity of their truth as representing the reality of the 
 world that lies beyond ourselves he can give us no 
 assurance. Appearances are all that we can know as 
 existing, not in ourselves, but in that world beyond us. 
 Unknown to us there must be supposed so our reason 
 compels us to say as remaining behind or beneath all those 
 phenomena, one permanent being which we call substance ; 
 further than this we can say nothing of it. Our raw 
 materials of knowledge are supplied by the outward world, 
 and are classified or placed in order by our understanding. 
 So that Hume's negation does not destroy the " subjective" 
 validity of our reasonings, but merely shows us that they 
 can relate only to appearances. We cannot know what 
 things are in themselves ; for, first of all, appearances are 
 viewed as existing in space or in time, which are forms of 
 our own thought ; and secondly, we can view appearances 
 only as they are classified by our own rules. We thus 
 accept them indeed; yet not simply, or as they are given by 
 the senses. While we are accepting them, as conveyed by 
 our sensations, we are also employed in stamping upon them 
 so to speak the patterns supplied by our own under- 
 standing. To the details of the general theory thus 
 merely indicated Kant in the first edition of the " Critique" 
 (1781) added a noticeable suggestion: 
 
 "It is not impossible," said he, "that the thing unknown, 
 which we call substance, may be identical with the thinking 
 substance that in every man asserts itself as ego, when he is 
 speaking of himself." In the second edition of the same 
 book, he struck out this suggestive remark. It was not 
 
 12 * 
 
180 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 forgotten, however, but was seized by Ms disciple Fichte ; 
 and was soon made a basis for a new system of metaphysics. 
 Of this system, and of the ethical teaching that followed it, 
 our account may be brief ; for Fichte himself did not long 
 remain faithful to the principle of his earlier teaching. It 
 does not require a word to show that the principle of man's 
 absolute autonomy can lead to no religion. If any worship 
 could be based on such a principle, it would be an adoration 
 of ourselves. The causes that led Fichte to renounce his 
 first philosophy will be better understood when some account 
 of his life has been given. 
 
 JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE, the son of parents whose 
 position was lowly, was born in 1762 at Rammenau, a 
 village in Upper Lusatia. Through the kindness of a 
 nobleman, he received an early classical education at Pforta. 
 The grammar-school there was one that had been endowed 
 out of the revenues of suppressed convents. Some time 
 afterwards, young Fichte entered the University of Jena, 
 where he studied Spinoza's philosophy. Later, he was for 
 several years engaged as a private tutor; and meanwhile 
 was a diligent student of Kant's philosophy. The first 
 noticeable result of his studies was that, in 1792, he pub- 
 lished anonymously an essay on the idea of revelation which 
 as he maintained might reasonably be accepted as con- 
 sistent with the ethical teaching of Kant. The reputation 
 acquired by this essay at first regarded as having been 
 written by Kant himself was one of the causes leading to 
 Fichte' s appointment (1793) as Professor of Philosophy at 
 Jena. Here in later years he was associated with several 
 eminent men, including Goethe and Schiller, the brothers 
 Schlegel, Wilhelm von Humboldt, and others. Jena at 
 this time was rising in importance, and was regarded as the 
 birth-place of new ideas in literature and philosophy. 
 About the beginning of the nineteenth century, Weimar, 
 though still famous as the residence of Wieland, Herder, 
 Goethe, and Schiller, was surpassed in intellectual activity 
 and innovation by its neighbour, the seat of learning on the 
 
181 
 
 Saale. The University liad been greatly improved by the 
 liberal measures of Karl August and his minister Goethe. 
 Literature was represented at Jena by such men as the 
 brothers Schlegel, Tieck, and Novalis, and philosophy by 
 Keinhold, Fichte, Steffens, and Hegel. Literary society 
 lost dignity, but gained energy and freedom, when Jena 
 was made the centre. The meetings of poetical and philo- 
 sophical men which took place here (in the elder Schlegel's 
 house) were genial, and included some amusing contrasts of 
 character. There might often be seen Fichte a short, 
 sturdy figure, with hair flowing on his shoulders speaking 
 imperiously, but often in urgent need of pecuniary aid, and 
 sometimes dressed almost too meanly even for a philosopher. 
 Among other philosophers then assembled at Jena, there 
 sometimes appeared a young man with luminous eyes, a 
 round head, and a projecting brow. This was Schelling, 
 who had already published several essays containing the 
 outlines of a new philosophy of nature. For its develop- 
 ment he was partly indebted to the bold suggestions of 
 Fichte's own theory. 
 
 The chief work in which this theory was expounded as a 
 system boldly entitled a "Doctrine of Science " was 
 published in 1794; it was followed in 1796 by a book 
 entitled " Principles of Natural Law;" and in 1798 by a 
 treatise on " Ethics." Meanwhile Fichte was engaged as 
 editor of a philosophical journal, in which was published 
 (1798) an article not written by the editor of which the 
 tendency was regarded as atheistic. The censure and con- 
 troversy that followed its publication led Fichte to resign 
 his professorship at Jena. Soon afterwards he went to 
 reside at Berlin, where he was numbered with the friends of 
 Friedrich Schlegel and Schleiermacher, and was occasionally 
 engaged as a lecturer. In 1805 he was appointed Professor 
 of Philosophy at Erlangen ; but was allowed every winter 
 to return to Berlin, there to continue his courses of public 
 lectures. Of these the most celebrated his " Addresses to 
 
182 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY". 
 
 the German Nation " were delivered in the winter of 
 1807-8, when his voice was sometimes drowned by the 
 drums of the French troops marching near the lecture-hall. 
 Some passages in these lectures have been criticized and 
 called hyperbolical those chiefly where the speaker declares 
 that if the German people fail in this crisis, the whole 
 civilized world must perish. Most probably, Fichte 
 addressing immediately only the people of Prussia had 
 within the range of his mental vision all the European 
 nations of Teutonic origin ; and in that case his exaggera- 
 tion may surely be pardoned, when the political circum- 
 stances of the time are remembered. 
 
 In 1806 Jena had fallen, and in the following year the 
 peace of Tilsit left Germany in political circumstances of 
 utter degradation. There was left existing no true national 
 life. A disunion represented by envious local interests 
 had been an institution in Germany for two centuries. The 
 French were fighting to extend a mechanical despotism; 
 but they had a union, though one of the least durable 
 character ; and they were, of course, for a time victorious 
 over an aggregate of factions. The " house divided against 
 itself" fell. It was in accordance with the law that governs 
 the world. Prussia had lost half its territory ; a third part 
 of Germany was reduced to a state of vassalage ; the slavery 
 of the Rheinbund was made more oppressive than ever, and 
 the great minister, Vom Stein, who had at heart grand 
 projects for the deliverance of the nation, was dismissed 
 from office. Napoleon I, in 1807, ruled virtually over all 
 Europe, excepting England and Turkey. His despotism was 
 as minute as it was extensive. Amid all his plans for the 
 degradation of Germany, he could find time to wage petty 
 warfare. Palm, a bookseller at Niirnberg, had in his shop 
 a few patriotic pamphlets, and though he had not sold a 
 copy, he was shot in obedience to orders received directly 
 from the emperor. " I presume," said Napoleon, writing to 
 his agent, " you have arrested the booksellers at Augsburg 
 

 CHAPTER VIII. FIGHTERS RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 183 
 
 and Niirnberg. It is my will that they should be tried by a 
 court-martial and shot, and within the space of twenty-four 
 hours. " 
 
 Such political circumstances might have served, one would 
 say, to arouse the men who were still writing poetry, or 
 speculating in philosophy; but, in another point of view, 
 the despair of their times might possibly be excused as 
 something inevitable. However that may be, there was 
 in Fichte a spirit too noble to confess, as Goethe once did 
 with reference to the great conqueror "the man is too 
 strong for us." On the contrary, in 1807-8 Fichte thus 
 appealed to the heart of the nation : 
 
 " Germans! the voices of your ancestors are sounding from 
 the earliest ages the men who destroyed Rome's despotism, 
 the heroes who gave their lives to preserve inviolate 
 these mountains, plains, and rivers which you allow a foreign 
 despot to claim these men, your forefathers, cry out to you : 
 ' If you reverence your origin, preserve sacred your rights by 
 maintaining our patriotic devotion/ And with this admoni- 
 tion from antiquity there are mingled the voices of patriots 
 of a later age. The men who contended for religious free- 
 dom exhort you to carry out their conflict to its ultimate 
 results. And posterity, still unborn, has claims upon you. 
 Your descendants must be involved in disgrace if you fail 
 in your duty. . Will you make yourselves bad links in the 
 national chain which ought to unite your remotest posterity 
 to that noble ancestry of which you profess to be proud ? 
 Shall your descendants be tempted to employ falsehood, in 
 order to hide their disgrace of ancestry ? Must they say to 
 some future inquirer ' No, no ; we are not descendants 
 from those people so shamefully beaten in 1806 and the 
 following years. We do not belong to that race/ ' 
 
 Another passage in the same address is remarkable. The 
 speaker regards himself and his audience as forming but a 
 small contingent in an army of which the hosts, though 
 invisible, are present. He thus proceeds : " Yea ; and 
 all the spirits of the wise and the good in all the past 
 
184 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 generations of mankind are uniting their supplications 
 with mine. They are now lifting up their hands in prayer 
 and present, though unseen are imploring you now to be 
 true, and in the fulfilment of your duty to fulfil all their 
 most ardent aspirations toward freedom. Yea, more ; for may 
 I not say even that the Divine plan of Providence is waiting 
 for your co-operation ? Shall all who have believed in the 
 progress of society and the possibility of just government 
 among men be scouted as silly dreamers ? Shall all the 
 dull souls who only awake from a sleepy life, like that of 
 plants and animals, to direct their scorn against every noble 
 purpose, be triumphant in their mockery? You must 
 answer these questions by your own practical career. 
 
 " The old Roman world, with all its grandeur and glory, 
 fell under the burthen of its own unworthiness and the 
 power of our forefathers. And if my reasoning has been 
 correct, you, the descendants of those heroes who triumphed 
 over corrupted Rome, are now the people to whose care the 
 interests of humanity are confided. The hopes of humanity 
 for deliverance out of the depths of evil depend upon you ! 
 If you fall, humanity falls with you. Do not flatter your- 
 selves with a vain consolation, imagining that future events, 
 if not better, will be not worse than those of past ages. If 
 the modern civilized world should sink, like old Rome, into 
 corruption, you may suppose that some half-barbarian but 
 energetic race, like the old Teutonic race, may arise and 
 establish a new order of society on the ruins of the old. 
 But where will you find such a people now ? The surface of 
 the earth has been explored. Every nation is known. Is 
 there any half-barbarous race now existing and prepared to 
 do the work of restoration as our ancestors did it ? If you 
 the centre of modern civilized society fall into slavery 
 and moral corruption, then humanity must fall with you 
 and without hope of restoration." 
 
 The conclusion of this lecture reminds an English reader 
 of a discourse delivered (1803) by the eloquent preacher, 
 Robert Hall, of Cambridge. It is entitled " Sentiments 
 
CHAPTER viii. FICHTE'S EELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 185 
 
 proper to the Present Crisis," and contains the following 
 passage : " Freedom, driven from every spot on the 
 continent, has sought an asylum in a country which she 
 always chose for her favourite abode ; but she is pursued 
 even here, and threatened with destruction. The inundation 
 of lawless power, after covering the whole earth, threatens 
 to follow us here ; and we are most exactly, most critically 
 placed, in the only aperture where it can be successfully 
 repelled in the Thermopylse of the universe. As far as 
 the interests of freedom are concerned the most important 
 by far of sublunary interests you, my countrymen, stand 
 in the capacity of the federal representatives of the human 
 race ; for with you it is to determine (under God) in what 
 condition the latest posterity shall be born ; their fortunes 
 are entrusted to your care, and on your conduct at this 
 moment depends the colour and complexion of their destiny. 
 If liberty, after being extinguished on the continent, is 
 suffered to expire here, whence is ifc ever to emerge in the 
 midst of that thick night that will invest it ? It remains 
 for you, then, to decide whether freedom shall yet survive 
 or be covered with a funeral pall, and wrapt in eternal 
 gloom." 
 
 It was during the time of his residence in Berlin 
 especially in the .years 1806-13, when he so greatly aided 
 the movement leading to the War of Liberation that an 
 important change of a religious nature took place in Fichte's 
 own views and feelings. Some indications of a tendency 
 toward such a change might be seen in his earlier writings ; 
 but on the whole he had hitherto maintained his own stern 
 morals as a substitute for religion. Now, when he felt that 
 the world at large required a motive stronger than any cold 
 and hard law of conscience could afford, he was at the same 
 time made aware of the main defect in his early philosophy. 
 It is not implied that in his later years he was led at once 
 or even ultimately to accept Christianity, in any com- 
 plete or orthodox sense of the word ; but he was now led 
 first to admit that religion was a reality, distinct from morals, 
 
186 GEEMAN CULTUEE AND CHEISTIANITY. 
 
 however pure. This admission soon led to another more 
 definite to a belief that through Christ alone man is made 
 capable of his highest spiritual development. Lastly, he 
 was led to assert a principle of higher practical import- 
 ance than the whole series of philosophical systems, both 
 ancient and modern to assert in substance the principle, 
 that for mankind at large Christian freedom is the only 
 freedom possible. On account of his new promulgation of 
 this truth long forgotten, or left in silence, even by 
 millions of men called Christians Fichte must be esteemed 
 as the first among German philosophers who led speculation 
 back toward religion or, to say the least, to the recogni- 
 tion of a truth that even Christian teachers have seldom 
 asserted with sufficient courage. 
 
 Freedom, now, as before, Fichte declared, is the true 
 destination of man ; but it is and must be, he adds, first a 
 moral and spiritual, then a practical and social freedom a 
 liberation at once from our sinf illness and from our thraldom. 
 To this full enjoyment of liberty mankind can be led by 
 Christ; but they can be led in no other way. On this 
 point the sum of his doctrine has been tersely given in 
 these few lines of verse : 
 
 " The sensual and the dark rebel in rain 
 Slaves by their own compulsion in mad game 
 They snap their manacles, and wear the name 
 Of ' freedom ' graven upon a heavier chain." 
 
 The change that had taken place in Fichte's views 
 respecting the claims of religion was expressed boldly in his 
 course of lectures on the t( Characteristics of the Age, 5 ' i.e., 
 of his own times. The traits he chiefly censured sciolism, 
 conceit, and cynicism had previously been ascribed to the 
 educated and unbelieving people of Berlin. Before the days 
 of Fichte they had been thus described by Oetinger a 
 mystic pietist, in some respects not unlike Harnann : 
 
 " The men of Berlin have been made giddy by their 
 philosophy, which has led them to believe in nothing 
 higher than a mechanical first cause of lla things. 
 
187 
 
 Consequently, they know nothing of God ; nothing of man 
 as capable of religion ; nothing of angels or of fiends ; 
 nothing of sin, and accordingly nothing of grace ; nothing 
 of either heaven or hell. . . . But Christ will one day 
 compel them to see what it is thus to be ashamed of Him 
 before men, and to speak of Him as they have spoken." 
 
 Lessing had described Berlin as a school for the culture 
 of ribaldry ; and now Fichte referring chiefly to the tone 
 of society in Berlin described his own age as one pre- 
 eminent in its wickedness. 
 
 " Yours, " said he, " is a generation that has denied the 
 very possibility of any authority. That idea, among other 
 prejudices, you have scouted ; you have made your minds 
 clear of all superstition ; and what is there left in you ? 
 Nothing unless you call your freethinking a positive some- 
 thing. And what is your freethinking? An incessant 
 babbling about negations, which you have been repeating 
 now so long, that all the world is weary of them. We now 
 know thoroughly all the results of your philosophy. You 
 cannot speak a word that will be new to us ; we have heard 
 it all, again and again ; and we know that there is nothing 
 in it. ... Now then you have done your worst ; and 
 what have you done ? Have you banished from the minds 
 of men all thought of the Eternal One ? from your own 
 minds ? Possibly ; but here it is still the ever-abiding idea 
 of the Eternal abiding still with us, in our heart of hearts. 
 And you will not destroy it. Since the time when your 
 philosophy began and almost as soon ended all it had to 
 say we have had better doctrine the manlier teaching of 
 Kant. He has taught us that something remains firm, after 
 all your negation of religious truth. He has taught us to 
 recognize, with reverence and obedience, the authority of 
 one power that will not vanish at your bidding ; the 
 authority of that voice in our own inmost conscience, which 
 declares to man the absolute law let him think what he 
 will of it thou shalt do this : or thou shalt do that. You 
 will not put down that law. Many a soul has found firm 
 
 
188 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 support and strength, in submission to that authority. Yet 
 we grant it is stern. It has still left in us an earnest desire 
 to know more; nay, it has served to excite this desire. 
 Those men most earnest in their obedience to the imperative 
 moral law of their own conscience are also the men most 
 earnest in desiring the aid the strength and consolation 
 of religion, In a word, true morals must lead to devotion ; 
 this is a sequence not to be prevented by all the sciolism of 
 these times. Your philosophy must pass away, and make 
 way for a philosophy of religion/' 
 
 Fichte next goes on to make clear the difference existing 
 between morals and religion. This part of his teaching is 
 admirable, and has largely aided in setting aside Kant's 
 narrow ideas respecting first the claims of religion, in a 
 general sense, and next, those of the Christian Religion. 
 
 The basis of theories of religion now accepted as true by 
 many inquirers is found in the later teaching of Fichte 
 especially in his several courses of lectures delivered in 
 Berlin. It is worth notice, that at the very moment when 
 the lecturer was describing Berlin as the grand centre of 
 unbelief in his time, it was being made by his own teaching 
 the centre of a new movement of which the result has been 
 to say the least a restoration of respect for the idea of 
 religion. Schleiermacher, Schelling, Hegel, Dorner, Bieder- 
 mann, Pfleiderer, and Lipsius these are but a few among 
 the names of many writers on the theory or philosophy of 
 religion. They hold of course their various views on many 
 minor questions; but as regards the basis the idea of 
 religion, belonging essentially to the mind of man and as 
 regards the restoration, the revival, of this idea, at such a 
 time as the beginning of our century, they all refer, with 
 profound respect and gratitude, to the important services of 
 Fichte. The man whom hard, systematic thinking had led 
 to a position that, as commonly understood, was called 
 atheism, was now led by his own conscience awakened 
 and expanded by the great movement of the age to a 
 recognition of religious authority. Of course, this change 
 
in his views, as defined by the negative men of Berlin, was 
 called Cf a transition from philosophy to mysticism." " There 
 was no logic in it," they said ; " for all the account to be 
 given of Fichte's new doctrine, was to state the fact, that he 
 was now a diligent student of St. John's Gospel." The self- 
 sufficient men of Nicolai's school while saying much here 
 and there of their own sole " rational creed " had destroyed 
 the root-idea of religion ; and in morals had left remaining 
 no basis as firm as that found existent even among some 
 tribes called savages. 
 
 On the other hand, too many so-called apologists of 
 Christianity had endeavoured to recommend their own 
 narrow interpretation of their creed by misrepresentation 
 of every other religion ; and so efficacious had been their 
 special pleading, that even intelligent men were led into 
 a similar bigotry. Thus Kant as we have said could 
 find no religion at all in Judaism, and dismissed con- 
 temptuously, as so many foolish or empty superstitions, 
 all the religions of the heathen world, ancient and modern. 
 
 How could such narrow bigotry give aid to faith, or 
 strengthen a true argument one based upon St. Paul's 
 own principles in favour of Christianity ? Our religion is 
 at once too great and strong, as well as too gentle, to 
 look down with contempt upon any form in which has ever 
 been expressed our common sentiment of aspiration toward 
 God that sentiment which especially distinguishes man from 
 the lower animals. 
 
 To deny the very existence of the sentiment to treat 
 Christianity as one among many fictions called " religions," 
 and all equally false to represent that the end of man's 
 being is to make himself independent or autocratic, as an 
 "intellectual all in all" here is the philosophy of atheism, 
 hardly ever more boldly preached than in our own scientific 
 age. Can there be entertained a reasonable fear, lest evil 
 results should soon follow the preaching of atheistic 
 philosophy ? Can such preaching now near the close of 
 the nineteenth century be attended with any considerable 
 
190 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 success ? These questions are large and difficult ; and it 
 is but judicious to defer for a time every unqualified reply. 
 Yet it may be submitted, that there are serious grounds 
 both moral and historical for the suggestion, that such 
 fears may be reasonably entertained. The absence of fear, 
 expressed by many with regard to the spread of irreligion, 
 indicates nothing more than their own fixed belief that 
 Christian morality of the purest type can live on, can guide 
 the individual man, and can safely take charge of all the 
 interests of society, when everything called " religion " is 
 swept away, or numbered with other antiquities. This is 
 our latest and most plausible creed of moral atheism. As 
 we have seen, it can find apparent support in Kant's earlier 
 ethical doctrine that of his " Critique of Practical Keason " 
 and in the earlier philosophy of Fichte. It remains to be 
 seen what is the teaching of Fichte in his later philosophy 
 that which has been called "mysticism." Thus then, in 
 the first place, he asserts that religion and ethics, though 
 closely united, must still be regarded as clearly distinct 
 in character. 
 
 Religion, says Fichte, is the soul of morality. Moral laws 
 are manifold, and obedience is too often irksome. In 
 religion obedience is freedom; for love expels not fear 
 alone, but also every thought of such service as might be 
 rendered in a state of bondage. Bound only by the love of 
 God, we enjoy perfect freedom. The pain of self-conquest, 
 or even of self-sacrifice, is transmuted into joy. There 
 remains in us no thought of self as existent in separation 
 from One who now is All in All. 
 
 Yet our real life, with its course of duties domestic, 
 social, and political is not absorbed in a mystic quietism. 
 We are still engaged as before with the realities of this 
 life, and these may be viewed as supplying the scenery 
 and incidents of our journey through life. It is religion 
 that sheds all along our way a cheering light, and breathes 
 into our heart a vital warmth. Life love religion these 
 three are one. Tell me, says Fichte, what you love 
 
CHAPTER yill. FICHTE' S EELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 191 
 
 supremely; and I will tell you not the accidents of your 
 life, but what is your own inmost life, your moral character, 
 and your destiny. 
 
 Our philosophy and our morality must lead us at last to 
 one thought the idea of God. In the presence of this idea 
 every other thought is as it were made obsolete, though 
 not destroyed. Death must attend life, and growth supposes 
 decay ; so in proportion as the idea of God expands itself 
 in us, our feeble ideas of our own finite selves, and of all 
 things existing in the world around us, must alike fade 
 away. [Here as in other passages Fichte uses terms that 
 may be called pantheistic; but his aim is devotional, not 
 metaphysical.] 
 
 Our first view of the world, he goes on to say, is that 
 which we call natural and materialistic. These phenomena 
 we see around us are realities for us. We rise to a higher 
 point of view when the world itself is regarded chiefly as a 
 school where our moral education is to be completed. But 
 there is yet a higher point of view that which I call religious 
 and beheld from this point, the world itself is but a thin 
 veil ; our very self is but another thin veil : we draw them 
 both aside and God reveals himself. 
 
 So far it might appear, as if Fichte claimed for himself 
 an immediate insight, or one not requiring the aid of any 
 historical revelation ; but this is not his intention. He 
 proceeds to speak more definitely of divine revelation, and 
 especially of the Kingdom of Heaven as first founded and 
 proclaimed by Christ. 
 
 In our true life the life I have called religious we are 
 to be made inhabitants of a new world the Kingdom of 
 Heaven where, under the reign of God, we are to live in 
 the enjoyment of perfect freedom even the (( liberty of the 
 sons of God." The capacity to participate in that life is 
 ours; but ours is not the power either to claim as our 
 birthright, or to impart to others, that freedom that union 
 with God. To be imparted, it must first of all be possessed, 
 maintained by One who can call it his own. Not as an 
 ideal ; not as a lofty aim such as we ourselves may have, 
 
 
192 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and still know that it is impracticable not thus did this 
 divine freedom exist in Christ. No; it belonged as his 
 birthright to Jesus of Nazareth; and until time expires, 
 all who enter into the Kingdom must come unto God by 
 him ; and until the end of time, all who truly know them- 
 selves in their relation to him, will bow down with profound 
 reverence, to acknowledge the incomparable glory of his 
 manifestation. In his life Heaven is opened, and by him 
 has been proclaimed for all mankind the freedom of the 
 reign of God. 
 
 His own Person, his manifestation real and historical 
 is the one great miracle to be believed, and the lapse of 
 time only serves to confirm the everlasting miracle, that in 
 all who come unto God through him, a new heart is created. 
 
 Thus then, says Fichte, the Kingdom of Heaven is 
 established, not as a metaphysical ideal, but at once as an 
 historical fact and as a divine authoritative idea, that must 
 ever expand itself more and more in the earth, until " the 
 kingdoms of this world are become the kingdom of God and 
 of his Christ." This is in substance the teaching of Fichte, 
 in the fourth volume of his " Staatslehre." He there goes 
 on to add some remarks not unlike Herder's already quoted 
 to the effect that, though the very name of Christ be 
 forgotten, his will must be fulfilled in the world. The 
 writer next goes on to ascribe a narrow meaning to St. Paul's 
 doctrine of the atonement. 
 
 Still after these and other subjective qualifications of 
 his own confession have been considered it is clear that 
 Fichte here comes near to the central truth of Christianity ; 
 nearer than any point attained by Lessing, by Jacobi, by 
 Kant, or by Herder in the later years of his life. Making 
 allowance for occasional aberrations it may be safely 
 affirmed as true, that in the years 1 781-1831 beginning with 
 Lessing's decease, and ending with the close of Hegel's 
 career the course of philosophical thought described a 
 curve more or less swiftly approximative and generally 
 moving on toward that centre. At last, the truth that in 
 Christ God manifested Himself in indissoluble union with 
 
CHAPTER viii. FICHTE'S RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 193 
 
 human nature was pronounced by Hegel. The passage in 
 which this assertion is given has been omitted in certain 
 analyses of his religious philosophy. 
 
 It may be asked, how was Fichte led to so great a change 
 in his belief ? The change will seem less surprising when 
 it is considered that, even in his first philosophy, his idea 
 of the Absolute was mainly ethical. Fichte always thought 
 more of things as they ought to be than of things as they 
 are ; moreover, he held that ultimately all apparent difficulties 
 by ordinary men esteemed impossibilities must yield to 
 the power of the divine idea, which he at one time identified 
 with moral order. In his later life, he felt more and more 
 disposed to distrust his abstract systems of morals. The 
 circumstances of his earlier years often difficult had 
 served chiefly to make his will harder; but the public 
 calamities of later years touched his heart. His deeper 
 thoughts and feelings were awakened. Kant though com- 
 paratively a cold man had before observed, that times of 
 war and distress serve to excite moral emotions that may 
 be called sublime. A common peril calls up in men a desire 
 to have some common faith, support, or consolation ; and 
 this is especially true as regards men of wide sympathy. 
 They feel at such times the burden of an universal and 
 intolerable care ; and then as the Psalmist says " they 
 cry unto the Lord in their trouble/' The argument some- 
 times used against religious convictions, when these are 
 excited by anxiety and distress, is but shallow. Unbelief 
 especially the practical atheism now so prevalent is not 
 recommended by the fact that it flourishes most in times of 
 peace and prosperity. These are not the times when the 
 souls of men are most widely expanded. 
 
 Fichte's later views of religion were closely united with 
 his patriotic devotion. When the War of Liberation began, 
 he showed himself ready to act in accordance with the 
 teaching contained in one of his own poems : 
 
 Let thine own Ego all that's mortal die ; 
 Then God alone lives in thy life's endeavour. 
 
 13 
 
194 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 His death was consistent with his life and his moral 
 doctrine. By the victories of 1813, won in the neighbour- 
 hood of Berlin, the capital was made safe ; and soon after- 
 wards its public institutions were opened to receive wounded 
 and disabled soldiers, sent from fields of recent battle at 
 Grossbeeren and Dennewitz. Among the women of Berlin 
 were many who cheerfully gave their services then, as nurses 
 in the several hospitals, and Fichte's wife was one of the 
 earliest volunteers. She had been for some months devoted 
 to such ministration, when she was seized with nervous 
 fever. Her life was spared ; but Fichte was soon afterwards 
 attacked by the same disease, which in his case proved 
 fatal. He died January 28, 1814. 
 
 The earlier moral teaching of Fichte, when given in a 
 style like that of his own writings, might seem mysterious 
 to many English readers. Yet it has been rather widely 
 spread in England and Scotland; for it is substantially 
 certainly not as regards either style or details the same 
 moral doctrine that is found in the writings of Thomas 
 Carlyle especially in (< Sartor Resartus" (1833). Nothing 
 is intended to be said here that can fairly suggest anything 
 like plagiarism or copying. Carlyle often and openly 
 expressed high admiration of Fichte's moral character and 
 teaching, but cared little for his metaphysics, and apparently 
 knew little or nothing of his later religious philosophy. 
 And of his earlier ethics Carlyle accepted only the first 
 principles above all the assertion of autonomy as belonging 
 to our moral conscience. Of any connection existing between 
 this assertion and the principle of political despotism, it is 
 certain that Fichte knew nothing. On the contrary, the 
 idea of true freedom by which his whole life was inspired 
 led him to believe at first, that the idea might be realized 
 in a society ruled by moral principles only. In his later 
 years he maintained that true freedom can be enjoyed only 
 in the Kingdom of Heaven. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CARLYLE. 
 
 How much has, by way of criticism, been said of Carlyle 
 of his "German style/' which is strictly speaking his 
 own ; of his humour, his graphic power, his poetry, and 
 above all, his despotic political views ! How little, com- 
 paratively speaking, has been said of that deep and hard 
 problem first suggested by Fichte " how can moral order 
 and political freedom be made to agree ?" 
 
 Near the beginning of our century, there were living 
 several writers who, by means of reviews and translations, 
 spread in England and Scotland some knowledge of German 
 literature. Among them may be named William Taylor, 
 Scott, Coleridge, Shelley; and especially Carlyle, who in 
 his early years studied the ethics of Kant and Fichte. 
 
 It will be understood, that no general account can here 
 be given of the miscellaneous writings of Carlyle. Some 
 few words may be said respecting his poetic genius, his 
 original humour, and other salient traits in his writings ; 
 but we have chiefly to study the substance of his doctrine 
 in relation to ethics, freedom, and religion. 
 
 There is an elect class of men including certain literary 
 men, poets, Christian teachers, philosophers and a few 
 statesmen who are associated mainly as having in 
 common two characteristics : they are men of genius, 
 and they have very wide sympathies. The number of 
 these expansive men has been proportionately largely 
 increased since the time of the French Revolution. To 
 find proofs, we have but to turn over a few pages of 
 modern literary history, English or German. Since 1789 
 
 13* 
 
196 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 the minds of many eminent men, both realists and idealists, 
 have become more and more expansive. One, a born 
 mathematician, Comte, undertakes a philanthropical re-ad- 
 justment, not only of the sciences, but also of human society. 
 A lawyer, Bentham, more readily solves the latter difficulty 
 by means of a new phrase, of which he makes an axiom. A 
 poet, Shelley, accepts this axiom, and now sees a millennium 
 near, with no more work to be done, save the abolition of 
 all religion. Another poet, Wordsworth more sober 
 appends to his poems an essay on our modern poor-laws, and 
 a recommendation of co-operative productive industry. And 
 in our own day, we see a born logician studying the land 
 laws of various countries, while the man of high artistic 
 culture, Ruskin, turns away from his gallery of paintings 
 to study political economy, especially the organization of 
 capital and labour. 
 
 To this class of men belonged Carlyle one whose studies 
 were so comprehensive, that, if classification could be 
 attempted, we should hardly know where to begin. To say 
 the least of his variety, he was, in his earlier days, eminent 
 as a writer of great poetic power, though it was displayed 
 mostly in genial criticism ; then a mystic idealism was 
 made the basis of stern moral teaching; and latterly his 
 doctrines were promulgated by means of biography and 
 history to say nothing of political pamphlets. Yet through 
 all this variety of forms we see the truth, that his earnest 
 mind was most closely engaged in the study of one problem : 
 we must have freedom, and we must have moral and social 
 order; these two forces must learn to live in union but 
 how ? That is the main question on which his thoughts 
 were employed ; and the study led him nearer and nearer, as 
 he grew older, to a conclusion that has been described as a 
 theory of hopeless despotism. In the sequel, we may notice 
 the difficulty of the problem, and the cause of his failing to 
 find a true solution. To show the cause of his failure will 
 be our chief aim in the present chapter ; but first of all may 
 be given an outline of his biography. 
 
CHAPTER IX. CAELYLE. 197 
 
 THOMAS CARLYLE was born, in 1795, at Ecclefechan, a 
 village not far from Dumfries. His father, a pious ancj. 
 shrewd man, was a devout reader of the Bible, and patient 
 enough to study the works of the old Puritan, John Owen, 
 written in " double Dutch," as was said by that master of 
 clear and beautiful English, Robert Hall. After his course 
 of studies in the University of Edinburgh where he 
 excelled mostly in mathematics young Carlyle found him- 
 self compelled to disappoint his father's hope, that he 
 would rise to be a minister in the Kirk. The son examined 
 his own conscience as regards the question : " Do I now 
 hold my father's faith ?" and doubts already entertained 
 made the answer " No " inevitable. Afterwards, he was for 
 some years employed as a schoolmaster, and during this 
 time was formed his friendship with Edward Irving, the 
 eloquent preacher. " The last time I saw him," says 
 Carlyle (in 1833), he was "hoary as with extreme age, and 
 trembling over the brink of the grave," though little more 
 than forty years old. The next year was his last. That 
 friendship was on both sides firmly maintained, even at the 
 time when Irving was called a wild visionary. 
 
 In 1818, Carlyle, tired of a schoolmaster's routine, 
 returned to Edinburgh, and, by means of writing articles 
 and making translations, earned enough money to support 
 himself, while he employed his leisure in reading through a 
 library of history, poetry and romance, and in making him- 
 self acquainted with the German language and its literature. 
 One early result was his essay on the first part of " Faust." 
 Soon afterwards, as tutor to Charles Buller, he held an 
 appointment favourable to his literary progress. While the 
 pupil acquired useful notions on social and political questions, 
 the tutor found leisure to write his " Life of Schiller," and 
 made a translation of Goethe's " Wilhelm Meister," soon 
 followed by four volumes of translated German romances. 
 These last-named translations were not produced as work 
 suggested or desired by himself; but he found, apparently, 
 some pleasure in introducing to English readers. "Wilhelm 
 
198 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Meister a book that Wordsworth, after trying to read it, 
 cast away with moral disgust. 
 
 Of Carlyle's homage paid to Goethe, it is not easy to give 
 any clearer interpretation than that given in his lectures on 
 " Heroes and Hero-Worship." To this book the reader is 
 referred for the elucidation of a mystery which we do 
 not pretend to understand. 
 
 Soon after 1826, when he married, Carlyle retired into 
 the solitude of Craigenputtock, a small farm which his wife 
 inherited. The homestead was a plain-looking house, 
 situated about a dozen miles from Dumfries, and secluded 
 among moorlands. Dreary would the place have seemed 
 without the presence of a wife who could listen to his 
 wonderful talk, and could also talk in her turn. Though 
 friends came but rarely to see him, his days here were neither 
 dull nor unproductive. During his six years' abode in this 
 lonely place he produced some of his best articles in the 
 shape of essays and reviews, including an essay 011 Johnson, 
 and one on Burns ; both genial, appreciative and original, 
 and well deserving notice in association with a later and 
 excellent essay on the genius and character of Sir Walter 
 Scott. Here also Carlyle wrote that strange, wild book 
 partly autobiographical " Sartor Resartus/' 
 
 In the next year he came to London, and settled himself 
 in Cheyne Row, Chelsea a suburb then quiet and rural 
 where he remained until his decease. His daily life here 
 was a quiet routine of literary work, done in a way more 
 sedate and tranquil than his later style of writing would 
 suggest, relieved by a fair allowance of physical exercise, 
 and not without the solace of friendly society. Friends who 
 knew him well during his prime of life in Cheyne Row, all 
 concurred in saying that then his genius often shone out in 
 conversation as brilliantly as in the best passages of his 
 writings. In 1837 appeared his most powerful book, " The 
 French Revolution, " so surcharged with vigour, that for 
 many readers a few pages are enough at a time. The very 
 spirit of the epoc'h seems to have seized the writer. The 
 

 CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE 
 
 style is tumultuous. There is no repose. The words rusl 
 on with the violence of a hailstorm. 
 
 When the author had completed this history, the first 
 volume of the manuscript was irrecoverably lost. It was 
 lent to Mr. J. S. Mill, and was used by his cook for lighting 
 the fire. Carlyle sat down calmly and re-wrote it, with 
 hardly any substantial loss, and without the toil of renewed 
 study. There had been a duplicate well preserved in his 
 vivid memory. The story seems less incredible when we 
 remember that Mozart could compose in silence, and with- 
 out writing down a note, a long symphony for fifty or sixty 
 instruments. 
 
 In 1845 appeared the author's successful book, " Oliver 
 Cromwell's Letters and Speeches, with Elucidations." Its 
 special object was to clear the memory of the Protector 
 from the charge of hypocrisy. There was an intention not 
 altogether dissimilar in the "History of Frederick the 
 Great " a most laborious work, of which the first volume 
 appeared in 1858. The industry of research displayed in 
 the ten volumes of this long history is marvellous. Taken 
 as a whole, it may be called wearisome, as the writer 
 himself confessed ; though his highest powers of humourous 
 and graphic portraiture find exercise in many passages. 
 After 1865, when the last volume was published, Carlyle 
 wrote no important work. 
 
 The saddest event of his life occurred in the same year, 
 when his wife died suddenly, while he was far away from 
 home. "The light of my life is quite gone out," said 
 he ; and the sequel proved that these words were not too 
 expressive. He remained comparatively silent during his lasfc 
 fifteen years, though the Reform Bill of 1867 awakened his 
 dread of an uneducated democracy, and so caused the 
 publication of a rather violent pamphlet, entitled " Shooting 
 Niagara and After." Throughout his remaining years 
 " the sage of Chelsea " so he was often styled was not 
 forgotten; but after 1870 he was seen less and less frequently 
 in Chelsea and the neighbourhood, or on his way to the 
 
200 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 " London Library/' of which he was still the President. 
 Gradually, and without any assault of disease, his vital force 
 grew weaker, his movements were slower, and his words 
 were few ; while his fading sight seemed looking far out and 
 away from this passing world of " vanity and vexation of 
 spirit." Yet his friends and numerous readers felt that a 
 great blank was left in the world when it was known that 
 on the 5th of February, 1881, Thomas Carlyle had died, in 
 the eighty-sixth year of his age. A few days later, his 
 remains were buried, with silent ceremonies, near the kirk 
 of his native place. 
 
 Here nothing like a fair, general estimate of his life's 
 work can be given; but a few of the main points toward 
 which his energies were directed may be noticed, and lastly 
 may be named the difficulty of the problem on which his 
 mind was often engaged. To give in few words the main 
 divisions of his work : he was a literary man of rare poetic 
 genius, who was gradually led away from imaginative litera- 
 ture by earnest studies of morals regarded as the basis of 
 society, and hence was naturally led on to studies of history 
 and politics. These several studies were, of course, always 
 more or less co-existent. The order in which they assumed 
 .prominence is noted above. 
 
 As fair examples of his purely literary writings, the essays 
 on Johnson, Burns and Scott have been named. The third 
 contains a strongly characteristic passage. The genial critic 
 concludes by telling a quaint anecdote. There was once, he 
 says, a silent and solitary Hindoo Fakir, who was interrogated 
 respecting the motive of his secluded devotion. " I am 
 cherishing in my heart/' said he, " the sacred fire that will 
 burn up the sins of this world/' Of that fire, says Carlyle, 
 there was too little in the genius of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 His " Latter-Day Pamphlets " and other utterances of his 
 reformatory fervour, especially as to certified Industrial 
 Schools, can be but slightly noticed here. In these a most 
 earnest love of order and honest work frequently urges him 
 on to exaggeration. As to patiently living on in the midst 
 
CHAPTER IX. CAftLYLE. 201 
 
 of this world of " shams/' he says, with strong emphasis : 
 u I would rather die \" For him, our state of society is 
 " anarchy plus a policeman," our Parliament is a talking 
 machine, and certain ameliorations of the criminal laws are 
 denounced as striking off fetters that should bind the Evil 
 One. Worst of all, when he hears how release from slavery 
 has, in some places, been followed by a growth of indolence, 
 he deplores the act of liberation, and becomes poetical when 
 he describes Paradises that might be realized in certain 
 tropical islands, by means of gangs of negroes "held 
 steadily to their work." 
 
 Corruptio optimi pessima, is the gist of these and many 
 other complaints, suggested by abuses of freedom. But 
 where is their cure ? That it must be severe, he is ready to 
 see. To put down such abuses, he would uphold a despotism 
 such as his critics have called " brute force/' He finds a 
 fair instrument of good government in the cudgel freely 
 applied to the backs of subjects by Friedrich Wilhelm I. of 
 Prussia, whose son is Carlyle's hero the true king. Above 
 all, he venerates the memory of Cromwell ; but does not 
 trouble himself with the question of providing a true succes- 
 sion of rulers like Cromwell. Thus the positive conclusion 
 is something too much like despair. 
 
 Other vigorous essays and reviews belonging partly to 
 biography, partly to morals and criticism must here be left 
 unnoticed; for the question often raised respecting his 
 tenets of religious belief requires some answer, while his 
 views on social and political questions are such as suggest 
 considerations of the highest importance. Of his strictly 
 religious views, so far as any distinct tenets are concerned, 
 he has told little, and therefore space is left for discussion 
 that can hardly lead to any clear conclusion. His teaching 
 has been called Pantheism, and it is true that in " Sartor 
 Resartus " there are passages expressing sentiments of 
 reverence, of which the universe itself seems to be the 
 object ; but his more permanent and characteristic teaching 
 is simply moral ; and, though highly original in diction, and 
 
202 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 style, is mostly based on the ethics of Kant and Fichte. 
 Accordingly, he is sternly opposed to the sensual philosophy 
 and utilitarian morals of the eighteenth century. Every 
 man, he contends, may find out what is his duty, and in 
 doing it he will find his true wisdom and sole happiness. 
 If any few words could fairly represent all the passages 
 where this cardinal teaching is enforced, the following might 
 serve : 
 
 " Laborare est orare. This highest Gospel forms the basis 
 and worth of all other Gospels whatsoever. . . . Do thy 
 little stroke of work ; this is Nature's voice, and the sum 
 of all the commandments to each man. Obedience is our 
 universal duty and destiny, wherein whoso will not bend 
 must break. . . . Our life is compassed round with necessity ; 
 yet is the meaning of life itself [i.e., moral life] no other 
 than freedom, than voluntary force : thus have we a warfare; 
 in the beginning, especially, a hard-fought battle. For the 
 God-given mandate : ' Work thou in well-doing/ lies 
 mysteriously written in Promethean, prophetic characters in 
 our hearts, and leaves us no rest, night or day, till it be 
 deciphered and obeyed ; till it burn forth in our conduct, 
 a visible, acted Gospel of freedom. And as the clay-given 
 mandate : ' Eat thou and be filled/ at the same time proclaims 
 itself through every nerve, must there not be a confusion, a 
 contest, before the better influence can become the upper ? " 
 
 Then our obedience is not due to the universe. Intel- 
 lectually, and as regards the universe, man is to be a fatalist ; 
 but morally, and as regards the assertion of his own moral 
 freedom, he is to be a fighter against destiny. But he is, at 
 the same time, to yield obedience. To whom ? To God ; 
 since the mandate to be obeyed is a " God-given mandate/' 
 Is this obedience to be rendered without the guidance of a 
 revelation of God's will ? without the strength and consola- 
 tion derived from faith, hope and love ? These are the 
 questions to which we are led by Carlyle, as by the earlier 
 teaching of Fichte. The voice of conscience, said Fichte in 
 his earlier teaching, proclaims our duty, which is to be done 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 203 
 
 simply because it is our duty. The fulfilment of our duty 
 is our only true happiness, which is identical with a constant 
 assertion of our moral freedom. Thus we are introduced 
 into a new life, are raised to a higher stage of existence, and 
 become more and more conscious of the truth that the moral 
 order of the world, to which our own work is made freely 
 subservient, is Divine and eternal. In this knowledge we 
 have our only possible knowledge of God. There is, says 
 Fichte, no other God. This, so far as the basis of morals 
 is concerned, is a true summary of his earlier teaching. 
 Carlyle does not so far as we remember refer to Fichte' s 
 later teaching, in which we find such admissions as these : 
 " Every man must die to sin, and lead a new life, and this 
 must be done as the act of his own moral freedom ; yet it 
 can be done only by looking for aid to Christ the source 
 of a new life. Through Him must enter all who ever come 
 into the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 One part of Kant's moral doctrine is here omitted. He 
 says, our knowledge of a supreme moral law postulates the 
 existence of God, whose will is the basis of that law; but 
 further than this we can discover nothing of God : our 
 reason gives us no proof of His existence. As regards the 
 substance of his moral teaching, Carlyle, for the most part, 
 agrees well with Kant, and with the earlier teaching of 
 Fichte certainly not with the later. The difference is that 
 their style is strict and consequent, while his own is 
 homiletic and discursive. However, as viewed with regard 
 to their common negations or omissions, all three are alike. 
 They do not assert that such morals as they teach must be 
 founded on a revealed religion ; they do not refer to revealed 
 Christianity as the basis of religion and morals. Yet their 
 more special ideas of morality are, for the most part, 
 Christian. Whence were these ideas obtained ? especially, 
 we would ask, whence come these ideas of moral freedom, 
 absolute duty and absolute obedience? This is indeed, a 
 large inquiry, dividing itself into three distinct questions, 
 of which only the first can be noticed here. Whence, then, 
 
204 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 we ask, have we our modern, as distinct from the ancient 
 heathen, notion of freedom ? Let this question be truly 
 answered ; then answers to the two remaining questions 
 will be readily found. 
 
 The old Teutonic word " free " still retains its earlier and 
 its later meaning; the former political and secular, the 
 latter religious and Christian. Our common phrase " free 
 of the city," gives us the earlier : the secular or political 
 meaning. Used in this sense, the word simply denotes 
 that a man has certain privileges, is recognized as belonging 
 to a municipality or a corporation, and is, therefore, not to 
 be treated as a mere man (homo), nor as a slave, nor as a 
 foreigner. In this sense the word is supplied in our English 
 version of the New Testament (Acts xxii. 28), where St. 
 Paul says : i( I was free born." The freedom or municipal 
 privilege here asserted is also referred to in several other 
 passages of the same book: xvi. 37, 38; xxiii. 27, and 
 xxv. 10. But, obviously, this is not the sense in which the 
 word " free " is used mostly by St. Paul when he is speaking 
 or writing to Christians, as in Galatians iv. and other places. 
 Nor is it the sense in which the word is employed in trans- 
 lating the words spoken by Our Lord (John viii. 32, 36) 
 when referring to the freedom of true Christians. This is 
 a spiritual and infinite freedom, first revealed in the soul 
 united with God Himself, then made manifest in practical 
 life, and gradually expanding itself in the world, but only in a 
 true proportion and just so far as the reign of God is extended. 
 
 We have, then, a secular and a Christian idea of freedom, 
 and it is especially deserving of notice that, with regard to 
 its formal extent, our modern idea of freedom must be called 
 Christian. This historical fact remains firm, even when we 
 put aside all thoughts of faith in Christ, or indeed all 
 thoughts of religion. It is not said, we can abolish the 
 Christian religion and still retain the true, concrete and (to 
 use an old word) "unitative" idea of Christian freedom. 
 This is impossible. But we can secularize the idea, and, 
 while retaining it so far as regards its general definition as 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 205 
 
 to its extension, we can wholly change its associations ; just 
 as we might close all churches and chapels, and yet keep 
 Sundays, though in a new style, as days for rest and recrea- 
 tion. We can thus take a part of Christianity, while we 
 refuse the rest ; and this, indeed, is done to a very large 
 extent. Men who refuse to enter into the kingdom of heaven 
 hold firmly their modern idea of man's birthright free- 
 dom not dreaming that this is historically a Christian idea. 
 They hold a Christian doctrine, though they are not Chris- 
 tians. This apparent paradox is a fact, and one so important 
 that it goes a great way towards explaining the difficulty of 
 the problem of true freedom in incessant conflict with false 
 freedom. That problem much engaged the attention and at 
 last wearied out the patience of Thomas Carlyle. " How 
 shall we keep the true freedom, and be well rid of the 
 false?" This, in substance, was his earnest question oft 
 repeated. In the world, he maintained, as it is nowadays 
 we have a great deal too much of this " sham freedom :' 
 (( freedom " to be false, not only in speech, but all through 
 our lives ee freedom" to build, with bad mortar, thin, 
 tumble-down houses ; to sell deceptive furniture, clothing, 
 food, and even medicine; in politics, " freedom" to raise 
 factions and obstruct the course of good government; in 
 culture, " freedom " to reduce art and literature to the rank 
 of amusements for the idle, not to say the dissolute ; in 
 philosophy, " freedom " to blow bubbles called ' ' systems," 
 and to talk about matters of which we know nothing at 
 all ; above all, ' ' freedom " to make gods of money-bags. 
 These vanities were sore vexations to the aged " sage of 
 Chelsea," and his lamentations were often pathetic. " They 
 cannot make a good brick nowadays," said he; and of 
 numerous houses he complained that it was not conceivable 
 how children, reared in such dwellings and amid such 
 surroundings, could grow up as honest men. These and 
 many similar complaints are made almost tedious by iteration, 
 but they have had their use in our times. Who can say they 
 were not urgently needed ? 
 
206 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Enough has been said to show that Carlyle belonged, as 
 we have said, to an elect class of thoughtful men, especially 
 distinguished by their world-wide sympathies. The cares 
 of the world around him, and fears respecting the social 
 welfare of generations unborn, disturbed the repose of his 
 once retired study in Cheyne Kow. His sympathy was 
 sincere and deep, though often expressed in his own 
 eccentric style, and with ironical humour of the kind 
 described as "grim." His writings lead, in several respects, 
 to negative results. But he strongly asserted that the very 
 basis of society must be nothing less than sound individual 
 morality. Will not further inquiry lead to the conclusion 
 that true morality must be based on religion ? 
 
 Above all, his writings have forcibly suggested the ques- 
 tion : Whence came our modern idea of freedom of freedom 
 belonging, not specially to this man as an Athenian, or to 
 that man as a Roman, but to every man, simply because he 
 is a man, the son of "Our Father in heaven"? Whence 
 came this mighty idea now pervading the minds of men ? 
 For the most part, they never think of any such question - 
 yet history assures us that the idea was not always known 
 in the world. Neither Plato nor Aristotle ever dreamed 
 of such an idea. Whence, then, has it come ? From 
 Christianity, is the answer ; and to Christianity it must lead 
 us back, or must leave us in anarchy. The validity of this 
 position must, of course, be tested by the history of the last 
 two thousand years ; for here is asserted a fact of which 
 the majority including many highly intelligent men are 
 apparently still ignorant. Just as, for the most part, we 
 are unconscious of the influence of solar warmth pervading 
 our physical life, so are we ignorant of the source and the 
 energy of the idea that, in a moral sense, pervades the very 
 air we breathe. The abolition of Christianity is not so easy 
 as some philosophers would have us believe. Meanwhile, 
 there is one thought strongly suggested by the impending 
 conflicts of our times. The idea of freedom, pervading 
 society throughout Christendom beneficent as it has been 
 
CHAPTER IX. CAELYLE. 207 
 
 in union with that organism, the whole of Christianity, to 
 which it truly belongs may develop, in its disunion, an 
 expansive force threatening the dissolution of our social and 
 political institutions. In the later years of his life, serious 
 fears of such a result seemed to haunt the mind of Carlyle. 
 
 The great fact of his life is this he grappled with the 
 hard problems of society ; he sought their solution ; and in 
 doing this he hardly made any distinct reference to the aid 
 that might be afforded by our Christian religion. Yet it is 
 not suggested that he is to be classed with the multitudes 
 of secular journalists and other writers men who are ever 
 proposing remedies for evils called social and political, while 
 their roots are immorality and irreligion. Carlyle could 
 look beyond the surface ; he could see, at least, that moral 
 power was wanting. 
 
 No man of his time has done more to awaken interest in 
 moral and religious questions of the highest importance. 
 By bringing into contact with the realities of life, such 
 moral philosophy as he had learned, he has shown how 
 little can be done by cold ethical teaching. Despairing 
 of moral measures, he has next recommended despotism, as 
 a preventative of anarchy ; but this he has done with hardly 
 any hope of success. He sees in the future vast questions 
 arising whose solution will require more than human 
 wisdom. They must be solved either with or without the 
 aid of religion. Can they be solved without such aid ? To 
 this question he leads us ; yet he gives us no clear answer. 
 He suggests the problem ; and, as regards its solution, he 
 confesses that his mind is greatly vexed by fears of the 
 future fears that, as forcibly expressed in his declamatory 
 style, have served to call attention to this one question, 
 which he himself might have called the " world's question" 
 of the present time : How shall society be saved, when 
 freedom is on every side extending its claims, and faith, the 
 basis of authority, is failing ? Though it is not proposed by 
 himself, in so many words, the one main question treated so 
 earnestly in his writings is in substance this How shall the 
 world go on without religion ? 
 
208 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Compared with the importance of his chief purpose to 
 call attention to this inquiry all that has been said of his 
 graphic power, his stern humour, and his tumultuous style, 
 is but a trifle hardly deserving notice. We do not stay to 
 criticise the tone in which a watchman utters a call of 
 alarm ; but rather pay attention to the meaning of the call. 
 
 There are English readers not a few to whom the style 
 of systematic philosophy is wearisome. Everywhere they 
 wish to have, not the processes of thinking, but their 
 practical results as relating to morals, social existence, and 
 religious belief. This is especially the case when the ethical 
 writings of such men as Kant and Fichte are noticed. 
 Morals without motives ; ethical theories without authority j 
 these say practical men are but dry studies and suitable 
 only for professors ; all that we care to know is the truth 
 that has life and power in it. For such truth Carlyle 
 inquired earnestly in his earlier years, when he studied 
 Kant and Fichte ; and the results of his studies are found 
 here and there in his works. He found in moral philosophy, 
 as he thought, a sure basis for a doctrine of good morals, such 
 as were suitable for the guidance of his practical life, because 
 they agreed with the dictates of his own conscience but, as 
 we have said, he was a man of wide sympathies, and could 
 therefore find no rest in any system serving only for the 
 moral guidance of himself. He wished to find also a basis 
 of authority on which society itself might safely rest. 
 Though the terms in which his sympathies were expressed 
 seemed often too harsh and severe, he was one who cared 
 much for mankind ; one of those men who have been boldly 
 yet not altogether erroneously described by a poet as 
 heroes ; men called ' ' to stand up, and support the intoler- 
 able strain and stress of the universal." H^r found, in the 
 solitude of his earlier life, teaching that seemed to afford 
 for himself a firm moral support ; but in his later life his 
 interest in matters real, historical and practical was widely 
 extended ; and he was thus led to care almost too bitterly 
 for the moral order of the wide world all around him. 
 Thus he tested the practical and social value of his own early 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 209 
 
 philosophy ; and his writings tell us how far it was found 
 deficient. 
 
 His positive ethical teaching setting aside some dis- 
 cursive passages that have been called "pantheistic" is 
 substantially identical with the moral doctrine of Kant and 
 Fichte ; in other words it asserts the autonomy or indepen- 
 dence of man's conscience. This is the doctrine maintained 
 by Kant in 1787, of which the practical inefficiency was 
 confessed by that writer in 1793. Again, and still more 
 boldly, it was asserted by Fichte in 1 796-8 ; but as early 
 as 1806, and more explicity in 1813, he retracted his 
 assertion of man's moral autonomy at least, he then ceased 
 to regard morality as a sufficient substitute for religion. 
 Eegardless apparently of these remarkable retractations, 
 Carlyle still held firmly the principle of man's moral 
 independence ; and as far as we can see he was not led 
 by any later study and experience to modify his ethical 
 doctrine certainly not so far as to confess the dependence 
 of such moral teaching on the aid that might be afforded by 
 any revealed religion. His teaching, therefore, was moral, 
 social, and political; but was not religious in any distinct 
 sense of the word. It will be observed, that the word 
 "irreligious" so often employed with more or less refer- 
 ence to some personal bias or intention is here avoided. 
 Carlyle recognizes in the voice of conscience " God's own 
 mandate/' This is clear ; and it is equally clear that he 
 pays the utmost possible respect to the sincerity and 
 earnestness of certain men whose religious views were 
 definite and positive ; but the men so honoured are those 
 who have given proof of great strength especially strength 
 exerted in moral or political warfare. Beyond this, however, 
 little is known respecting the religious faith of Carlyle. 
 
 There remains still to be given an analysis of his ethical 
 principles as practically applied in aid of his social and 
 political doctrines. Here the practical results of his 
 philosophy lead us back to the great question which has 
 been already suggested can the freedom proclaimed by 
 
 14 
 
210 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Christ be maintained and developed without submission to 
 his authority ? 
 
 It should be observed that everything said in this chapter 
 of Fichte, will refer only to his first philosophy. Carlyle in 
 his positive ethical teaching mainly repeats the first doctrine 
 of Fichte. Here man's own intelligent will, as expressed in 
 his primary self-assertion " ego " is made the basis of 
 ethics. But man, says Fichte, is no sooner self-conscious, 
 than he is also conscious of the fact that there exists as 
 placed opposite to himself a world of phenomena by which 
 the assertion of his own will is apparently limited. This 
 world of appearances presents to his notice both attractions 
 and obstructions, which exist, however, only to be resisted 
 and overcome by the moral will of man. The world has no 
 authority over him ; but must be made to yield. So far we 
 speak only of the phenomenal world surrounding man. But 
 his will has next to encounter another and a more important 
 limitation ; for the world contains persons, each confronting 
 the " ego " so Fichte says with an assertion of equality. 
 Each claims dominion over the world. The true "ego" that 
 ought to rule, is not one as asserted by an individual, but one 
 as asserting itself in a common consent of many. Hence 
 comes moral order. In order to avoid a tf bellum omnium 
 contra omnes," men now recognize their equal personal 
 rights of. existence. Thus arise institutions in which all 
 have a common interest ; and to maintain them the State 
 a collective will is armed with executive power to enforce 
 law in those cases where defect of conscience requires such 
 correction. So far a common moral will is exerted to estab- 
 lish such order as is required by society ; and the order so 
 based is called " legality." 
 
 But the final aim of the will is an assertion of perfect 
 independence or freedom, which is something higher than 
 " legality," and is here called " morality." This is a moral 
 order both external and internal, and leads on to a perfect 
 freedom. 
 
 In morality the motive is internal ; in law the will recog- 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 211 
 
 nizes now its own assertion. Obedience now is freedom. 
 Every physical impulse, every seduction, all sentiments of 
 hope, fear, and desire these must all be made more and 
 more subservient to the will, until it is victorious, and 
 now the true man can say of himself 
 
 " Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eo perductus, ut 
 non tantum recte facere possim, sed nisi recte facere non 
 possim." 
 
 When this can be truly said, then man as he ought to be 
 truly exists. 
 
 Here there might seem to arise a self-contradiction ; for 
 this perfect obedience must apparently be a state of repose, 
 and the aim of morality is free activity, says Fichte. He 
 therefore goes on to say our self-assertion, in our main- 
 tenance of a virtuous life, will always have to encounter 
 oppositions, and so we shall always find plenty of incite- 
 ments to action. " To work is our destiny. " How often is 
 this saying repeated by Carlyle ! Man's life is not to be a 
 repose after victory ; but a perpetual winning of victories. 
 He must not retire to a hermit's cell, there to lead a quiet- 
 istic or ascetic life. Incessant fighting is required to make 
 the hero who, in the midst of all his battles, can say always 
 " I am free ; I yield obedience to nobody and to nothing." 
 
 Again, the reader must be reminded of Carlyle, whose 
 moral teaching is a sort of Berserker's philosophy. The 
 ethical basis belongs to Fichte; the stern Scandinavian tone 
 of the exposition belongs to Carlyle. 
 
 ' ' Non serviam " is the principle of the morality described. 
 Has this morality then any relation to religion ? " None 
 whatever/' is the reply given by Fichte [in his^rs^ philo- 
 sophy] . " Moral order is supreme, and of any other God 
 I know nothing." Accordingly, it must be stated as a fact 
 the ethical teaching of Fichte is non-religious. The 
 righteousness aimed at is his own ; the endeavour is made 
 throughout in his own strength ; and the victory is won by 
 his own perseverance. 
 
 Such egotism as contrasted with a merely puerile con- 
 
 14* 
 
212 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 ceit may be called sublime ; but after all it is egotism 
 intellectual, moral, and clearly distinct from all that is 
 sensual and selfish at the same time distinct from that 
 consciousness of dependence which belongs essentially to 
 religion. 
 
 Fichte recognizes as divine nothing save the "moral 
 order 3> of the world, of which man is assured in his own 
 conscience. Carlyle recognizes dimly some divine idea 
 struggling for development in this chaotic world; and 
 more clearly he recognizes in himself the dictates of con- 
 science as equivalent to " God's own mandates." So far the 
 doctrines of Fichte and Carlyle may be said to differ at 
 least formally; but both are equally asserted as indepen- 
 dent of all religious aid ; in a word, therefore, both are 
 merely subjective. They refer us to no objective authority 
 to no dictates clear, practical, and at the same time divine. 
 For the rest, Carlyle' s teaching is a general eulogy of indus- 
 try, here and there followed by a prediction that a moral 
 victory will surely follow our fidelity in obeying the clear 
 dictates of our own conscience. Many are the passages of 
 which the following are examples : 
 
 " Blessed is he who has found his work ; let him ask no 
 other blessedness. He has a work, a life-purpose ; he has 
 found it, and will follow it ! How, as a free-flowing channel, 
 dug and torn by noble force through the sour mud-swamp 
 of one's existence, like an ever- deepening river, there it 
 runs and flows ; draining off the sour festering water 
 gradually from the root of the remotest grass-blade ; 
 making, instead of pestilential swamp, a green fruitful 
 meadow with its clear-flowing stream. How blessed for 
 the meadow itself, let the stream and its value be great or 
 small ! Labour is life ; from the inmost heart of the worker 
 rises his God-given force, the sacred celestial life- essence 
 breathed into him by Almighty God ; from his inmost heart 
 awakens him to all nobleness to all knowledge, ' self- 
 knowledge ' and much else, so soon as work fitly begins. 
 Knowledge ? The knowledge that will hold good in work- 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 213 
 
 ing cleave thou to that ; for nature herself accredits that, 
 says Yea to that. Properly thou hast no other knowledge 
 but what thou hast got by working : the rest is yet all a 
 hypothesis of knowledge; a thing to be argued of in schools, 
 a thing floating in the clouds, in endless logic-vortices, till 
 we try it and fix it. Doubt, of whatever kind, can be 
 ended by action alone.". . . . 
 
 ' ( It is the right and noble alone that will have victory in 
 this struggle ; the rest is wholly an obstruction, a postpone- 
 ment and fearful imperilment of the victory. Towards an 
 eternal centre of right and nobleness, and of that only, is all 
 this confusion tending. We already know whither it is all 
 tending ; what will have victory, what will have none ! . . . 
 Await the issue. In all battles, if you await the issue, each 
 fighter has prospered according to his right. His right and 
 his might, at the close of the account, were one and the 
 same. He has fought with all his might, and in exact pro- 
 portion to all his right he has prevailed. His very death 
 is no victory over him." 
 
 By Fichte it is clearly asserted, and by Carlyle it is 
 generally implied, that morals and religion are one and 
 the same ; or that religion if supposed to exist at all, as 
 distinct from morals can exist only as a shadow. 
 
 This teaching has already been so widely accepted, and 
 has so far seemed to be supported by many plausible 
 reasonings, that its truth to multitudes now seems infallible. 
 Yet it is a doctrine supported neither by man's instincts, nor 
 by the main facts recorded in the pages of universal history. 
 
 The assertion of Fichte that such morals as he defines 
 are innate in man stands in opposition to the whole history 
 of Christianity, and moreover is contradicted by the history 
 of every religion that has ever existed. Opposed to such a 
 world of facts, the dogma of Fichte' s first teaching must 
 be rejected. 
 
 Eeligion and ethics are at once closely united and clearly 
 distinct. History and profound philosophy agree well in 
 their recognition of this distinction. 
 
214 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 What is religion ? As existing in all times and all 
 nations, it arises from man's earnest desire to know some- 
 thing of the relations existing between himself and the 
 Power or the Powers by whom the world is governed. 
 More briefly it may be said, religion arises from a sense of 
 dependence j and with equal truth it may be said that 
 religious thought has been suggested by inevitable limita- 
 tions of our freedom. We are to some extent free; yet we 
 feel and know that on every side our freedom is bounded by 
 an over-ruling Power. We wish to exert our own will, so 
 far as it may be allowed ; but at the same time we wish to 
 act in concert with another and a higher will. In some form 
 or another religion appears, and gives answer to the inquiry 
 thus suggested. Consequently we find that, in all times and 
 among all nations, laws and morals have required the aid of 
 some religious sanction. "The gods," it is said, " have sanc- 
 tioned this course of action j but they have denounced that." 
 Let it be granted that as rationalists say the actions so 
 respectively sanctioned or denounced are, by man's own 
 conscience, already defined as in one case good, in the other 
 evil. This dogma does not diminish the claims of religion. 
 For let the evil denounced be murder ; and say it is forbid- 
 den by conscience. Yet in times of political furor, the crime 
 is defended as Carlyle himself tells us by myriads of men 
 and women. In the time of peace for which they are in- 
 debted solely to Christianity sciolists make morals to serve 
 as substitutes for God's laws. But the morals so made are 
 but toys for idle minds ; and in the time of trial when firm 
 laws will be required the distinction between morals and 
 religion now so much questioned will need no philosophy 
 to make it clear. There are some philosophers to whom may 
 be addressed such advice as, "Wait awhile." As regards 
 their theories of man's innate sentiments, and his " moral 
 autonomy/' their true value will be found when they are 
 tried ; and at the same time will be tested the strength of 
 the command, " Thou shalt not kill " proclaimed by God. 
 All this is philosophy that has been well understood by 
 
CHAPTER IX. - CAELYLE. 215 
 
 innumerable people belonging to the heathen world. Among 
 them have lived philosophers, in intellect deeper, stronger, 
 and clearer as in morals purer and more sincere than 
 many of our modern antichristian moralists ; and those 
 heathen philosophers could see that religion even when 
 mixed with gross errors was something more than a 
 shadow. Among German philosophers the greatest Hegel 
 has indeed said, that " morality is the substance of 
 society ;" but he has added the words more deeply true 
 " religion is the substance of morality." 
 
 As might be expected, this profound and eternal truth, 
 which no " science " will ever destroy, has been recognized, 
 and expressed in their way by the greatest poets in all ages. 
 It might be interesting to collate their evidence on this 
 point ; but space forbids, and it must suffice here to name 
 but one example one well known by every classic reader. 
 
 Surely, if any natural laws, or moral instincts, might be 
 safely left without the sanction of religion, it would seem 
 that domestic ties the laws of the family might so be left 
 to take care of themselves; but this was not the feeling 
 of heathen antiquity, as interpreted by Sophocles, in his 
 " Antigone." When the rebel Polynices has fallen in 
 battle, the despot Creon proclaims death as the penalty to 
 be paid by anyone who may give to his foe's remains the 
 honours of interment. In defiance of this proclamation, the 
 rebel's true sister, Antigone, buries the remains ; and then 
 she calmly appears before Creon. In amazement he asks, 
 how she has dared to disobey his commands ; and this is her 
 reply : 
 
 crOeveiv roaovrov (toJbTv TO, aa 
 
 SvvaaOai, dvrjTov ovO } 
 
 " I did not believe that your proclamation you being a 
 mortal was strong enough to prevail over the unwritten 
 but imperishable laws of the gods." 
 
 In this sublime response the central truth of religion is 
 asserted. At heart, that which is truly, intensely human, 
 
216 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and that which is divine are united. Between the two 
 always remaining distinct there has never existed that 
 absolute separation imagined by the deists of the eighteenth 
 century. Antigone not living in an (( enlightened age " 
 expresses her own natural sentiments, and at the same time 
 claims for them an authority not less than divine. Accord- 
 ingly, when her protest has been disregarded by the despot, 
 next appears the aged priest, to give warning that the 
 vengeance of the gods will not be long delayed ; and hardly 
 has he ceased speaking, when fall one soon after another 
 the bolts of heaven ; and the tyrant to use his own words 
 shrinks back into his own " nothingness." This is sublime 
 poetry, well employed in the expression of a profound 
 religious truth. 
 
 And the same truth is found in the religious traditions 
 and usages of peoples called barbarous. Everywhere man 
 seeks the aid of a Power to which he ascribes some charac- 
 teristics like his own; and in proportion as his own character 
 rises or falls, so rises or falls his faith. The worship of 
 senseless nature does not exist, and absolute worship of 
 one's self is a modern invention, that even now though 
 recommended by so many reasoners is not generally 
 accepted as a substitute for religion. The practical lives of 
 men are controlled by three forces their own instincts, the 
 laws of the land, and religion ; and in many cases, where 
 the last factor seems deficient to a large extent, it is not 
 altogether absent. As regards certain classes of men 
 educated so as to be made like knives, at once sharp and 
 thin religion may decline, and perhaps may ultimately die; 
 but the process will generally be slow. Men who are busy 
 in suggesting how science and education may in the future 
 take the place of faith, too hastily assume that they know 
 or can even guess, with approximate correctness what man 
 may be when left utterly destitute of religious feeling and 
 belief. 
 
 But was it ever proposed, or suggested by Carlyle, that 
 the coming problems of society should be encountered, or 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 217 
 
 could be solved without the aid of a positive and definite 
 belief? The question cannot be answered at once briefly 
 and distinctly. Of all facts connected with his teaching, 
 the most certain is this that in passages too numerous to 
 mention, he refers to " the Eternal Powers that live for 
 ever/' and in contrast with their decrees, treats with con- 
 tempt the creeds and observances of many who, in his day, 
 supposed themselves to be devoted to the service of religion. 
 How severely, for example, did he analyze the religious views 
 of Coleridge. One passage in the analysis may be quoted : 
 
 " Coleridge's talk and speculation was the emblem of 
 himself : in it, as in him, a ray of heavenly inspiration 
 struggled, in a tragically ineffectual degree, with the weak- 
 ness of flesh and blood. He says once, ' he had skirted the 
 howling deserts of infidelity / this was evident enough ; 
 but he had not had the courage, in defiance of pain and 
 terror, to press resolutely across said deserts to the new 
 firm lands of faith beyond. He preferred to create logical 
 fata-morganas for himself on the hither side, and laboriously 
 solace himself with these/' 
 
 Clearly enough- as a critic* has observed the passage 
 describes the character of a man who willingly deceived 
 himself into thinking or believing what he only wished to 
 believe ; and the context makes it evident that the same 
 censure applies to many of his friends and disciples ; men 
 who more or less guided by his teaching were led into 
 certain forms of belief, here described as " ecclesiastical 
 chimaeras which now roam the earth in a very lamentable 
 manner." Thus are dismissed among other " spectral 
 Puseyisms and monstrous illusory hybrids " the religious 
 views and sentiments of such men as Maurice and Julius 
 Hare. 
 
 All this is negative. What is wanted is some clear 
 account respecting those " new firm lands of faith beyond 
 the desert ;" but where does the author give the account ? 
 
 * E.H. Hutton (Art. "Carlyle;" Good Words, April, 1881). 
 
218 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 It might be sought with some expectation of finding in 
 the " Life of Sterling;" and here indeed is found almost all 
 that is said by way of reply : 
 
 " True he had his religion to seek, and painfully shape 
 together for himself, out of the abysses of conflicting dis- 
 belief and sham-belief and bedlam delusion, now filling the 
 world, as all men of reflection have; and in this respect too 
 more especially as his lot in the battle appointed for us all 
 was, if you can understand it, victory and not defeat he is 
 an expressive emblem of his time, and an instruction and 
 possession to his contemporaries." 
 
 Eloquent as all this may be, it fails to supply the informa- 
 tion required. What still remains wanting is some clear 
 account of that passage in which Coleridge (we are told) 
 made a failure the passage " across the deserts to the new 
 firm lands of faith beyond." The reader is still left to 
 inquire, " Where are the new firm lands of faith ? " Find- 
 ing no reply, another critic* gentle even to a fault has 
 expressed his disappointment in words not to be forgotten : 
 
 [The author] he says, "has no right no man has any 
 right to weaken or to destroy a faith which he cannot or 
 
 will not replace with a loftier He ought to have said 
 
 nothing, or he ought to have said more. Scraps of verse 
 from Goethe, and declamations, however brilliantly they may 
 be phrased, are but a poor compensation for the slightest 
 obscuring of the ( hope of immortality brought to light by 
 the Gospel,' and by it conveyed to the hut of the poorest 
 man, to awaken his crushed intelligence, and lighten the 
 load of his misery/' 
 
 The difficulty of defining clearly the position held by 
 Carlyle in relation to Christianity has been felt by many who 
 have studied his writings. They have found there no solu- 
 tion of the questions so often suggested : In the coming 
 trials of society, is there nothing to be done by Christianity ? 
 Is it, as a power once mighty in the world, now to be 
 
 * George Brimley, Essays; 1858 ( Carlyle s Life of Sterling). 
 
CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 219 
 
 regarded as extinct ? Does the author intend that this 
 conclusion should be intimated by his silence ? Does he 
 ever deal with the question so forcibly put, only a few years 
 ago, by the Emperor of Germany ? It was in 1869, that 
 in giving a reply to an address presented by the Synod of 
 Brandenburg the Emperor used these words : 
 
 ' ' What is to become of us, if we have no faith in the 
 Saviour, the Son of God ? If he is not the Son of God, his 
 commands, as coming from a man only, must be subject to 
 criticism. What is to become of us in such a case ? " 
 
 The words so manly and direct are at the present time 
 worth more than whole libraries filled with social and 
 pseudo-ethical philosophy ; but it is especially their clear- 
 ness that is here to be noticed. Were the question of 
 authority now urged to its ultimate point, we know where 
 is that original source to which the Emperor's own voice 
 would direct us. In this respect, he remains an Abdiel in 
 his time. 
 
 But where is the final authority to which Carlyle refers ? 
 As regards every individual he refers him to his own con- 
 science ; but what must the answer be as regards society 
 or say rather the people ? To what authority must they 
 ultimately submit ? A reply is given in the following 
 passage. The writer has previously given some account of 
 Friedrich Wilhelm I of Prussia ; and thus concludes an 
 estimate of his character : 
 
 "No Berserker of them, nor Odin's self, was a bit of 
 truer human stuff; I confess his value to me in these sad 
 times is rare and great. Considering the usual histrionic 
 Papin's digester, truculent charlatan, and other species of 
 kings, alone obtainable for the sunk flunkey populations of 
 an era given up to Mammon and the worship of its own 
 belly, what would not such a population give for a Friedrich 
 Wilhelm, to guide it on the road back from Orcus a little ? 
 'Would give/ I have written; but alas, it ought to have 
 been ' should give/ What they ' would ' give is too mourn- 
 fully plain to me in spite of ballot-boxes a steady and 
 
220 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 tremendous truth, from the days of Barabbas downwards 
 and upwards." 
 
 In all the numerous works of the author, hardly one 
 passage more characteristic than this can be found. It is 
 apparently a sincere confession of despair respecting any 
 future union of social order with Christian freedom. The 
 king so eulogized was, as is well known, even meanly provi- 
 dent, while careful to increase the material resources, and 
 above all to strengthen the military power of Prussia ; but 
 he was in his private character a man remarkably coarse, 
 ignorant, and cruel; and as a king, he ruled strictly by means 
 of physical force. Yet the despotic government of such a 
 king is described as something desirable, but too good to be 
 restored now. This brief comment does not give the whole 
 meaning of the passage it certainly fails to show all the 
 force of the allusion to Barabbas. 
 
 A conclusion like this expresses hardly less than despair 
 respecting the progress of society. Must the words be 
 accepted as deliberate and final ? A doubt may perhaps be 
 suggested ; yet toward such a conclusion we are led by an 
 able critic,* already referred to, whose remarks may here be 
 quoted : 
 
 " I do not think that any portion of Carlyle's works 
 contains clear traces of the sort of grounds on which he came 
 to reject the Christian revelation. . . But I should judge 
 that at the root of it was a certain contempt for the raw 
 material of human nature, as inconsistent with the Christian 
 view, and an especial contempt for the particular effect 
 produced upon that raw material by what he understood to 
 be the most common result of conversion. . . Certainly he 
 always represents the higher fortitude as a sort of ' obstinacy/ 
 rather than as a pious submission to the Divine will. . . 
 
 " Of the existence of something hard something of the 
 genuine task-master in the mind of the Creator, something 
 requiring obstinacy, and not mere submission, to satisfy its 
 
 * E. H. Hutton (Good Words, April, 1881). 
 
CHATTER IX. CAELYLE. 221 
 
 requirements, Carlyle had a deep conviction. I think his 
 view of Christianity was as of a religion that had something 
 too much of love in it. . . His love of despots who had any 
 ray of honesty or insight in them, his profound belief that 
 mankind should try and get such despots to order their 
 doings for them, his strange hankerings after the institution 
 of slavery, as the only reasonable way in which the lower 
 races of men might serve their apprenticeship to the higher 
 races all seems to me a sort of reflection of the doctrine 
 that life is a subordination to a hard taskmaster, directly 
 or by deputy, and that so far from grumbling over its 
 severities, we must just grimly set to work and be thankful 
 it is not worse than it is. . . That seems to me to represent 
 Carlyle' s real conviction. He could not believe that God 
 does, as a matter of fact, care very much for the likes of us ; 
 or even is bound to care. His imagination failed to realize 
 the need or reality of Divine love. . . 
 
 " Such seems to me to be the general drift of Carlyle's 
 religion. He has had his incredulity as to the Christian 
 miracles, historical evidence, and the rest ; but his chief 
 doubt has been as to the stuff of which mankind is made 
 on which his verdict seems to me to be this ' not of the 
 kind worth saving or to be saved, after Christ's fashion, at 
 all, but to be bettered, if at all, after some other and much 
 ruder fashion, the ' beneficent whip ' being, perhaps, the 
 chief instrumentality." 
 
 If these remarks were accepted as belonging only to the 
 portraiture of an individual, whose belief was overshadowed 
 by a rather gloomy temperament, they would have little 
 importance, and here would be out of place. But they are 
 not so accepted. On the contrary, it is submitted that in 
 the case of Carlyle there is seen but one example one 
 certainly remarkable of a process that has been going on 
 now, to say the least, for some centuries, and has already 
 led to the despair of many minds. There is no superstition 
 in this opinion ; for it will be found true, even when no 
 reference is made to any future life. On one side hard and 
 
222 GEEMAN CtJLTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 narrow notions of religion ; on the other a proud and cold 
 philosophy, setting up itself as a substitute for religion 
 these have been the two chief factors in the process of 
 negation ; and those who would know the results, have but 
 to study the condition to which both religion and philosophy 
 are now reduced in North Germany. 
 
 The despair ascribed to Carlyle was mainly the result of 
 hard and false teaching " philosophy " so called teaching 
 that Hegel (who surely knew something of it) denounced as 
 " hypochondriacal." The general tone of disappointment 
 pervading especially the later writings of Carlyle, was 
 indeed made emphatic by his peculiar style ; but was not 
 therefore a tone merely individual. It has been heard often 
 enough lately; for it is especially appropriate to the last 
 fashionable philosophy pessimism. The philosophy that 
 began in pride has ended in despair. 
 
 For Carlyle the end of all his philosophy, and of all his 
 historical research, was especially a despair respecting all 
 endeavours to preserve moral order in union with political 
 freedom. Yet, as he tells us, it is now accepted by men as 
 an infallible dogma, that whether for good or for evil 
 freedom is the destination of man. More and more the 
 many must have their share in the government of the world. 
 This may be true ; but the truth is one liable to gross 
 misconception and abuse. Hardly anyone living in his age 
 knew this danger so well as Carlyle himself witness his 
 story of the French Revolution. But did he not know, at 
 the same time, that the idea of true and universal freedom 
 is essentially and historically Christian ? 
 
 Since he wrote so much about slavery and went so far 
 as to recommend its modern revival it might be presumed 
 that he had read something of its history in Sparta, 
 Athens, Rome, and ancient Germany and knew something 
 also of its gradual abolition. However that may be, it 
 seems clear that he had never studied deeply the chief 
 problem suggested by his own writings : 
 
 Since " freedom for all men " is essentially a Christian 
 

 CHAPTER IX. CARLYLE. 223 
 
 idea may not our modern rejection of Christianity lead 
 ultimately though through ages of controversy and suffer- 
 ing to a reassertion of Christianity, as the only possible 
 means by which true freedom can be established ? 
 
 Christianity has promised to men in the first place, 
 freedom from the bondage of sin; next, to men free because 
 regenerated, ' ' the liberty of the sons of God ;" lastly, such 
 an expansion of practical liberty intellectual, social, and 
 political as could never be enjoyed in the ancient heathen 
 world. The true and concrete freedom so proclaimed is at 
 once internal and external, spiritual and practical ; first a 
 renewal in the souls of men, and then a vast amelioration of 
 their social circumstances. Thus only is to be finally estab- 
 lished in this world the " Kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 The proclamation then is two-fold ; or includes two 
 promises that can never be separated. But men have 
 claimed and still will claim, as their natural birthright, 
 the latter, while the former is rejected. Hence the diffi- 
 culties of modern society the problems capable of solution 
 with the aid of Christianity; but incapable of solution 
 without it. 
 
 So vast is the Christian idea of " freedom for all men," 
 that eighteen centuries have been required to carry into 
 effect only one part of its evolution the abolition of 
 slavery. 
 
 So closely was the institution incorporated with the whole 
 structure of the ancient heathen world, that had any sudden 
 and violent effort been made to abolish it at once, that world 
 would have been plunged into anarchy. Nevertheless the 
 process of liberation sometimes slow has been sure; 
 and wherever Christianity has breathed, the chains of the 
 slave have been melted, as ice is thawed by the breath 
 of spring. 
 
 Still there remains to be completed a vast process of 
 liberation and union, in order that finally the " Kingdom 
 of Heaven " may be established in this world. 
 
 How can the design be fulfilled ? Not by law ; not by 
 
224 GERMAN' CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 political power ; not by philosophy. Only by means of one 
 love one submission to One one religion. 
 
 The great controversy of the eighteenth century from 
 the consequences of which we have not yet escaped began 
 with setting in opposition the claims of humanity on one 
 side, and those of Christianity on the other. 
 
 The end of the controversy will be found in a union of 
 humanitarian with Christian ideas. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 
 
 THE religious philosophy and the historical criticism that 
 in Germany have followed a course partly anticipated by 
 Fichte, must be carefully noticed in some later chapters. 
 Here they are first named, in a rapid historical sketch, in 
 order to show their connection with that ethical philosophy 
 of which an account has been already given. 
 
 The close of a movement in philosophy is not often well 
 marked by the close of a century. Yet the end of the 
 eighteenth century may be described as a remarkable 
 turning-point both in history and in philosophy. The 
 decennium immediately preceding, and that next following 
 the year 1800, might taken together be called an age 
 of transition. 
 
 Among the men more or less celebrated, and then living 
 in England and Germany, not a few were born near the 
 time 1770. Accordingly, they were young students at the 
 time of the Revolution. As examples may be named : 
 Schleiermacher, Chateaubriand, Wordsworth, Coleridge, 
 Fichte, Hegel, Schelling, the brothers Schlegel, Southey 
 and Steffens; men remarkably different in some respects, 
 but all having a common intention a wish to render aid 
 in the restoration of religion. 
 
 It has been noticed that, among philosophers, Fichte was 
 e first who restored a respect for the historical claims of 
 iristianity. His earlier writings belong to the eighteenth 
 ntury; his later to the nineteenth. The change that 
 occurred in his opinions especially noticeable as presenting 
 a strong contrast to his own earlier teaching was but one 
 
 
226 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 pulsation in a general movement then taking place in the 
 minds of many. How far has its aim a restoration of faith 
 been successful ? A consideration of the question is 
 postponed. Here must first be noticed some practical 
 results of rationalism. 
 
 The practical results of destructive historical criticism 
 spread so widely by Semler and his followers remain in 
 the present time, while, comparatively speaking, the ethical 
 writings of Kant, Fichte and others are forgotten. Moral 
 philosophy as a proposed substitute for religion has 
 proved a failure. There are fears now expressed by many 
 including some who do not call themselves Christians 
 lest the coming generation of men should find themselves 
 left altogether destitute of religion. 
 
 Speculative philosophy has, in our time, made some 
 advances toward something like a reconciliation with 
 religion. But that supposed reconciliation of philosophical 
 ideas with Christian tenets is one of which, the people 
 understand little or nothing. They have been assured on 
 the ground of assertions made by men of learning that 
 Christian teaching has from the first included a series of 
 myths and inventions, mixed with a few facts that cannot 
 be easily verified in this late age. t( When differences 
 among great biblical critics are so numerous and often so 
 important how shall we, unlearned men, presume so far as 
 to say a word about them ? At the same time, how can we 
 after all your negations hold firmly any opinion, or any 
 belief ? " These are fair examples of a logic not unpopular 
 in Germany. 
 
 A hard intellectual character has prevailed long enough, 
 even among learned professors of theology, and has now 
 been impressed upon multitudes of the people. Often has 
 it been suggested, and indeed affirmed, that religious 
 sentiments may remain alive, when all creeds are dead and 
 forgotten ; but the history of our times shows rather, that 
 faith and feeling may 'fade and die together. 
 
 An attempt to ascribe any special causes for the unbelief 
 
CHAPTER X. PEACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 227 
 
 and indifference so widely spread in our age would lead us 
 far beyond the proper limits of the present work. The first 
 general cause was Semler's destructive criticism. The 
 second has been the teaching, that morals must now take 
 the place of religion. This conclusion agrees it is said 
 with reason or common sense, and with all such parts of the 
 Scriptures as are still allowed to remain valid. 
 
 Of Christian evidences supplied by the history of the 
 Church, however defined, little was said in the days of 
 Semler and Kant as little of general history, as affording 
 any evidences in favour of religion still less of Christian 
 biography, or of any such, personal convictions as were 
 asserted by Lavater, Claudius, and others of their school. 
 
 The argument, therefore, by which it was popularly 
 concluded that positive Christianity must be rejected, was 
 one that might be easily understood by everybody. The 
 historical Scriptures contained, it was said, statements that 
 had been shown to be highly improbable; and therefore 
 positive religion so far as it was founded on the veracity of 
 those Scriptures must be abolished. It was added, that 
 practical morals must, however, be retained. This is a 
 summary of the positive results arrived at by the earlier 
 deists and rationalists of the eighteenth century. Their 
 teaching has on the whole been maintained by many later 
 writers, whose common first principle is one asserting the 
 sufficiency and the independence of morality. On the opposite 
 side, it is affirmed that, although man has a capacity for 
 accepting moral and religious truth, his actual or practical 
 condition is such as to need the aid of a divine revelation. 
 
 The two assertions represent the two sides of a great 
 controversy. There is, however, a position that may be 
 called intermediate. It is one for the most part not unlike 
 Kant's notion, that morality, though rightly independent, 
 may for a time need the aid of religion. It follows, that 
 when moral independence is restored, that aid may with 
 advantage be taken away. 
 
 About the time 1770-90 the first of the three principles 
 
 15 * 
 
228 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 here noticed tlie assertion of moral independence was 
 very widely accepted. 
 
 In 1787 the idea of morality itself was purified and 
 ennobled by Kant's chief work on ethics ; but still the 
 assertion of independence was strictly maintained. In 
 1793 followed his work on religion, in which the inter- 
 mediate position was denned. 
 
 Between this position and such views as were held by 
 Lessing, by Jacobi, and by Herder in his later years, the 
 distance is not great. 
 
 In 1798 the principle of moral independence was boldly 
 asserted by Fichte ; but in 1806 he disowned the sufficiency 
 of his earlier doctrine, and again, but more definitely, he 
 disowned it in 181.3. 
 
 Of such retractations as these equivalent to a confession 
 that in religion must be found the basis of moral order 
 little or nothing was apparently known or understood by 
 Carlyle. He had found in the doctrine of moral inde- 
 pendence a principle congenial with his own character ; and 
 he deplored the fact that men were for the most part still 
 living in a state of moral anarchy. How could his own 
 moral faith or philosophy be made prevalent ? Meanwhile, 
 there arose in his time a new school of philosophy, of 
 which only the leading tendency the general idea can 
 here be noticed ; and this will be done most readily by way 
 of contrast. In the old school, man's conscience was " all 
 in all : " in the new school, history especially the history 
 of religion was studied. 
 
 It has of course been noticed how, in Kant's teaching, 
 we meet everywhere the notion of some hopeless, absolute 
 separation. Nature and mind morality and religion 
 practical reason, on one side, showing us that the idea of 
 God must be true ; on the other side the understanding, 
 showing us that his existence can never be proved these 
 are examples of Kant's " oppositions of science." Against 
 their finality the new philosophy entered a protest, and 
 then went on to show how a union of thought and faith 
 
CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 229 
 
 might be restored. Of all the results of this new philosophy 
 belonging to our own century one may be chiefly noticed 
 here. 
 
 Little was said by Kant respecting the history of religion, 
 or of the Christian Church, regarded as an historical insti- 
 tution. On the other hand it has been maintained by 
 Schelling and Hegel that, if religion belongs essentially to 
 the mind of man, it must also belong to the history of 
 mankind ; if it has ideal truth it must also have real and 
 historical truth. It follows, that if Christianity, after its 
 life of nearly nineteen centuries, may be regarded as a 
 dream " vanishing at daybreak/' in the next place, nature 
 herself may be so dismissed, and man must be left destitute 
 of all guidance save that which can be afforded by his own 
 private judgment. Mankind have not been left thus desti- 
 tute of religion. Throughout all the religions that have 
 existed in the world there has been traced the progress of 
 one idea an idea of union existing between Grod and man. 
 This idea is realized in Christianity. 
 
 Early in the present century, Schelling and Hegel 
 suggested this new theory of religion. The absolute 
 separation of the human and the divine had long been a 
 principle assumed ; this was now denied ; and consequently 
 it was granted that the central idea of the Christian religion 
 a union of the Divine with the human was not one to be 
 rejected as self-contradictory or impossible. 
 
 Meanwhile, Schleiermacher went on to show first, that in 
 the life of the Christian Church, the realization of this idea 
 a union of the Divine with the human had taken place ; 
 secondly, that the union had always been maintained by 
 means of faith in one Person, Divine and human; thirdly, 
 that the historical fact of his existence must, therefore, 
 always be maintained as the central fact of Christianity. 
 
 Partly aided by the spread of Hegel's philosophy as 
 understood by the Bright side" of his school but still 
 more aided by the teaching of Schleiermacher, some 
 considerable restoration of Christian belief took place 
 
230 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 during the first thirty years of the present century. This 
 assertion must, however, be understood as having an 
 especial reference to men of high culture, of whom many 
 were professors in universities. Among the people, the 
 sweeping negations of the earlier rationalists remained still 
 predominant. They reduced themselves to one popular 
 argument which, to the present day, retains its force : 
 Religion is founded on the Scriptures of the Old Testament 
 and the New ; in these as we are told Semler and others 
 have found many errors j consequently, the Christian 
 religion must be altogether rejected. Here there is nothing 
 that can be called abstruse j he that runs may read such an 
 argument. Accordingly, the unbelief so founded has easily 
 been made current among the people, and it remains still 
 unaltered in the opinions of multitudes living in the present 
 day. This important fact must be more largely noticed in 
 another place. Here it is mentioned, in order to limit and 
 define the practical importance to be ascribed to such new 
 views of religion as may be called ideal or philosophical. 
 Whatever their value may be, they cannot readily be made 
 popular. At the same time, it is fair to add that even in 
 the present day, when all studies have become " practical " 
 this philosophical argument in favour of Christianity is 
 one not to be forgotten. 
 
 The first position assumed in the ideal or philosophical 
 argument may here be briefly given : The cardinal ideas of 
 Christianity especially those respecting man's fallen nature 
 and his capability of restoration are, it is said, profoundly 
 true, and have been more or less recognized in all religions, 
 of which Christianity is the culmination. To deny utterly 
 then the substance of this last and " absolute religion," is 
 to ignore the whole meaning of history, and to make of man 
 an enigma. This is the main position of Hegel's religious 
 philosophy. 
 
 However brought about, the fact is undeniable that 
 among the Protestants of North Germany, there took place 
 in the first quarter of this century almost simultaneously 
 
CHAPTEE X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 231 
 
 a transition in philosophy, and some considerable restoration 
 of religious belief. In some instances, it might be rather 
 called a distrust in the logical forms of their old unbelief. 
 
 However this might be, the result, as admitted by all 
 parties, was apparent, that among professors and students 
 in Universities there was spread especially in the years 
 J 820-30 a general respect for religion. 
 
 Schleiermacher, in his own way, was teaching a doctrine 
 to the effect that our own human nature, when deeply 
 studied, leads to an inquiry to which Christ alone can give 
 the answer required. 
 
 Hegel in terms more abstruse was teaching a philo- 
 sophy of religion of which the main result, as regards 
 Christology, was as he often declared in substance 
 identical with the doctrine of the Lutheran Church. This 
 assertion, however, was accepted only by one party in his 
 school, as a result agreeing with their own conclusions. 
 Strauss, Feuerbach and others contended that Hegel's own 
 teaching must lead to an opposite result. 
 
 Meanwhile, the argument that, strictly speaking, might 
 be called " historical and critical," had not been forgotten, 
 though its interest had been made for a time subordinate. 
 It was in substance neither more nor less than the old 
 rationalistic syllogism : Christianity bases its tenets on the 
 Scriptures ; in these we find errors ; therefore the said 
 tenets are not true. 
 
 This is the argument which here, for the sake of brevity, 
 is called historical, though its data are partly supplied by 
 biblical criticism a department of learning in which an 
 especial eminence was attained, in 1830-60, by F. Baur of 
 Tubingen. His disciple, Strauss who published in 1835 
 his book entitled the "Life of Jesus" excited a new 
 interest in the argument here called historical ; and again, 
 when it had partly lost its interest, it was revived by him 
 in 1864, when he published the same work greatly altered 
 and indeed reconstructed. 
 
 It has been shown therefore, that leaving for a moment 
 
232 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 out of sight the early rationalism of Semler and his imme- 
 diate followers, whose argument was mostly historical and 
 critical subsequent theories and their consequent discus- 
 sions may be classified as ethical, ideal or philosophical, and 
 historical. 
 
 Their chief practical results may now be briefly noticed. 
 Among Protestants, the evidences called historical have 
 been reconsidered, and to some extent well maintained, but 
 with considerable modifications of their details. Among 
 Catholics some able apologetical works have appeared, in 
 which general evidences are well treated; but their main 
 argument has always remained one that as regards the 
 position made most prominent may be called ecclesiastical. 
 They appeal chiefly to the continued life of the Church. 
 
 It is not implied here that, among the best and most 
 learned of modern Protestant apologists, such evidences as 
 are supplied by the continued life of the Church have been 
 generally treated with anything like the neglect or contempt 
 that was a characteristic of Sender's time. Among learned 
 men of all schools, history is now respectfully studied. 
 
 The defence maintained by Protestant theologians more 
 or less orthodox since 1835, and especially since 186 1<, 
 has been made remarkable by two facts. On the one hand, 
 many of the old rationalistic rejections of minor historical 
 and scriptural evidences have been allowed ; and thus some 
 premisses claimed by old rationalism have been conceded : 
 on the other hand, the main result that the tenet of 
 Christ's divinity should be also rejected has not been 
 generally allowed. 
 
 Strauss who in his later destructive work was greatly 
 aided by Bauer's theory bases his later argument partly 
 on the assumed fact, that of the New Testament Scriptures 
 a very large proportion belongs to a time extending from 
 the year 100 to 150; that is to say, coming down to as low 
 a date as about 120 years after the resurrection. In the 
 course of this time it is assumed, not only as possible 
 but as highly probable, that facts and fictions might 
 
CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 233 
 
 become inextricably mingled. It is therefore contended, 
 that of the first century and especially of the first fifty 
 years there remains little that can be accepted as historical 
 truth. 
 
 This last negation relates especially to the time where 
 the chief interest of the whole controversy is concentrated 
 the time when the divinity of Christ was first proclaimed 
 by his apostles when they went forth boldly teaching that 
 he had risen from the grave, had appeared to them, and 
 had endowed them with spiritual authority and power. 
 
 Their teaching was followed as all the world knows by 
 the rapid spread of Christianity in Rome, Greece, and Asia 
 Minor. This vast and marvellous success is, of course, 
 admitted as a fact by Strauss and Baur. Their chief endea- 
 vour is to show how that success may be accounted for 
 without an appeal to any supernatural power. 
 
 Strauss supposes that, in the course of the time following 
 that called Apostolic, and ending about the middle of the 
 second century, a series of myths was gradually developed, 
 and subsequently these myths were commonly accepted as 
 historical facts. 
 
 Baur's theory supposes that, in the course of the Apos- 
 tolic age, and afterwards, vehement conflicts of opinions 
 and tendencies took place among the members of the 
 Christian Church. They were divided, he says, into two 
 parties, one mostly following Peter, James, and John ; the 
 other following Paul. 
 
 This notion of an early controversy originally suggested 
 by Semler was developed by Baur into an elaborate theory, 
 of which the following is an outline : 
 
 The four epistles written by St. Paul and addressed 
 respectively to the Galatians, to the Corinthians, and to 
 Christians in Rome, afford evidence, says Baur, that the 
 Christian Church, in the first century, was vexed and torn 
 by controversy. One party would make it a narrow sect 
 included within the boundary of Judaism; the other led 
 
234 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 by St. Paul would expand it into a faith broad and strong 
 enough to grasp and subjugate the whole world. The 
 latter party gradually prevailed. This leading fact, or 
 theory, is used as a key to explain the relations existing 
 between several parts of the New Testament. It is asserted 
 that St. Paul was viewed with suspicion and jealousy by the 
 Petrine or Judaizing sect, and was condemned and perse- 
 cuted as an innovator, if not as heretical. The " Acts of 
 the Apostles/' we are told, were written with the purpose of 
 reconciling the two parties, by ascribing equal honour to 
 their two leaders, Peter and Paul, who were, therefore, both 
 described as apostles sent to the Gentiles. It is maintained 
 that this theory of an early controversy between a Narrow 
 and a Broad Church is confirmed by the Book of the 
 Apocalypse, written (it is supposed) by a member of the 
 Judaizing party, while the fourth Gospel, described as 
 belonging to the middle of the second century, is accepted 
 as a proof that, at that time, the Pauline and Catholic 
 version of the original Gospel had finally prevailed over the 
 doctrine of the narrow party. Again, the theory is made 
 use of to explain the differences found in the two Gospels of 
 Matthew and Luke. The former, we are told, was written 
 with a Judaizing tendency, while the latter was Pauline in 
 its intention. After studying this Tubingen theory, one 
 reflection seems almost inevitable : if the original Light, 
 thus described as shining in its time of dawn, through 
 surrounding mists and clouds of doubt and controversy, 
 could, nevertheless, penetrate all the darkness of the follow- 
 ing centuries, and could spread itself over so great a portion 
 of the Roman world, how bright must that original Light 
 have been in itself ! 
 
 Strauss and Baur alike maintained some reserve in their 
 replies to one question often addressed to them. It was 
 suggested, that they should give some clear and probable 
 account respecting the early spread of Christian belief and 
 doctrine ; especially its spread in the time immediately 
 
CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 235 
 
 preceding the conversion of Saul of Tarsus, and in the time 
 following, of which some accounts are preserved in the 
 writings of St. Paul. 
 
 One fact more or less established by the four epistles 
 already named was indeed most industriously studied by 
 Baur. The apostle found among the Christians of his 
 time some obstinate cases of a rather strict adherence to 
 Judaizing rites and practices, and against these he wrote 
 several earnest admonitions. True ; but this single fact 
 tells us very little of St. Paul's own belief, and as little of 
 the Christian belief which in many places he confidently 
 assumes, or takes for granted, as a faith already existing 
 unquestioned, and established, to say the least, for some 
 years previous to his writing among those to whom his 
 epistles are addressed. He writes to them as to men whose 
 faith had for some time been in substance identical with his 
 own. Their Christology their doctrine respecting Christ 
 is thus supposed to have been a faith established without 
 dispute, and for some years previous to the dates of his 
 epistles. 
 
 Especially must this pre-supposition of their early faith 
 be noticed as regards the Christians of Rome including 
 both Jews and Gentiles whom the Apostle had not visited 
 at the time of his writing to them. It has hardly been 
 questioned, that he died about the year A.D. 64. The 
 accepted date of the Epistle to the E/omans is A.D. 58. As 
 St. Paul supposes, or takes for granted, there was at that 
 time already established in Koine a Christian Church 
 including members so far advanced in faith and knowledge 
 that he could address to them such a chapter as the eighth 
 of that epistle. 
 
 This one reference to a sure fact in the history of the 
 Church may serve to indicate the existence of many similar 
 facts, and to show the strength of the general position main- 
 tained in the defence of early Christianity against all the 
 combined attacks of Strauss and Baur. 
 
 The elaboration of myths -the development of tendencies, 
 
236 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 or theories the " inventions " made in a later time these 
 can give no fair account of a common or general belief? 
 established in several places, and in the course of some 
 twenty-five years after the resurrection. The belief then 
 accepted included a belief in the divinity of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The question may be still more closely limited, as regards 
 the main facts rejected by Strauss, and for the most part 
 ignored by Baur especially the fact of the resurrection. 
 
 In the course of a few years say ten or twelve at the 
 utmost there took place a series of marvellous events 
 beginning with the Crucifixion and ending, say, soon after 
 the conversion of Saul of Tarsus events by which the 
 destinies of the whole world have been changed. If the 
 facts asserted by St. Paul or assumed as facts well known 
 are rejected, then what were the events that really did take 
 place in the course of that time ? 
 
 No reasonable account has been given by Strauss no 
 clear reply to this fair challenge. 
 
 Baur, respecting those events and the marvellous effects 
 that so soon followed, has indeed little to say. He turns 
 away from facts, and goes on weaving his theory of a 
 Church a Christian Church, that arose out of a quarrel ! 
 
 How was the Gospel first spread ? This is the question, 
 to which Strauss and Baur give no clear answer. 
 
 The historical argument to be developed on both sides 
 more elaborately in some later pages has here been briefly 
 sketched, chiefly for the purpose of showing its relation 
 with evidence afforded by ethical inquiry, and with the 
 evidence adduced by religious philosophy. 
 
 The collected force of these three bodies of testimony 
 cannot be fairly described as a mere accumulation of 
 evidence. The point to be chiefly noticed is, not the 
 quantity of the evidence, but the fact of its convergence. 
 The three lines of the evidence drawn from three points 
 distant from one another converge, and meet in one point. 
 
 The importance of this conclusion will be suggested, if 
 for a moment a contrary supposition be entertained. Let it 
 
CHAPTEE X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 237 
 
 be imagined, that the historical argument as already 
 indicated still remains intact; but that the ethical evidence 
 has seriously failed. In other words, let it be supposed, 
 that by the introduction of moral and social measures and 
 without the aid of any religion many nations have, since 
 the Christian era, been made virtuous, happy, and prosperous. 
 Further let it be supposed, that since that era, the ancient 
 religions of Greece and Rome, and the religious insti- 
 tutions of Judaism have still survived, and still remain in a 
 flourishing condition that is to say, retaining such moral, 
 social, and political strength as they possessed in their best 
 period of history. 
 
 For a moment, let these suppositions though they are 
 mere dreams be accepted as facts. In this case it is 
 obvious, that some parts of the evidences described as 
 convergent will be lost. It will not appear now, that 
 Christianity was a revelation morally and urgently needed 
 just at that time when it first appeared. The ethical 
 evidence will, therefore, lose much of its force. 
 
 Again, if at that time the Roman world was not in a state 
 of incipient dissolution, a considerable part of the evidence 
 afforded by the philosophy of history must be lost. 
 
 But the suppositions are all false. The converging 
 evidences are true. They are as rays of light, becoming 
 brighter as they approach their common centre. 
 
 True, vital, and authoritative ethics belong to Christianity, 
 and when we trace them back to their source, we are led to 
 one time and to one place. This, in few words, is the 
 ethical argument in favour of Christianity. 
 
 The apostles went forth and preached, boldly declaring 
 facts that to multitudes seemed incredible ; nay, impossible. 
 Yet their message was accepted as a Gospel long though 
 dimly sought for by many souls, among the enslaved and 
 broken-hearted subjects of Rome. That message was a 
 Gospel of true and universal freedom a declaration that by 
 Christ all men were to be made free. 
 
238 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 " Freedom for all " such words liad never before been 
 heard in the Eoman world. No wonder then as sceptics 
 have remarked that there were found among the slaves so 
 many Christian converts. It should be also remarked how 
 closely at that time slavery was " built in " so to speak 
 with the basis and with the whole superstructure of society. 
 A sudden and general liberation of slaves would have led 
 to a universal social ruin. Freedom was given by the 
 Gospel; but the gift was first of all a spiritual and moral 
 liberty. This accepted it was inevitable that social and 
 political freedom would follow. 
 
 The conversion of many slaves makes it clear, that 
 Christianity was spread partly by natural and ordinary 
 means i.e. by appeals to human sympathies and motives. 
 Still the question remains : Whence the idea of universal 
 freedom ? How was it conceived and developed at such a 
 time ? Clearly, it was proclaimed on the ground of faith in 
 Christ, and submission to his authority. But whence that 
 faith that submission ? -His real or merely human cha- 
 racter says Strauss was exalted by the imagination of his 
 disciples ; they ascribed to him divine attributes. 
 
 The question returns, though now in another form : 
 Why so zealously so often when meeting death face to 
 face did they maintain their faith their absolute devotion? 
 " Fictions magnified the truth/' says Strauss. But whence 
 came the first impulse of the movement that at the time 
 when those so-called " fictions " were spread really did 
 spread itself over the Eoman world ? 
 
 The true answer given directly in the Gospel is strongly 
 suggested by a deep study of Eoman civilization as it 
 existed in the first century. Ben sen a writer whose special 
 study was ancient slavery has forcibly described that civi- 
 lization. For obvious reasons, his words though just 
 cannot here be given in the form of a literal translation : 
 
 "What now was there left existing in the State that 
 could offer any efficient opposition to the universal spread 
 
CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 239 
 
 of [the grossest immorality] ? Was there any moral strength 
 still left in the State itself? . . . The subjected provinces 
 were but so many parishes or close boroughs, so to speak, 
 where freedom and moral life were crushed under a despotic 
 power of centralization. The State alone was everywhere 
 present, and as the centre was corrupt, its depravity was 
 spread throughout the whole of the empire. As a rule, it 
 may be said the provinces most remote from Kome were the 
 least corrupt. In others there remained only vestiges of 
 their earlier morals and their religions. The latter founded 
 on venerable traditions had once been powerful, and had 
 greatly aided in maintaining the order of society. Each of 
 these religions had however an authority that was merely 
 national ; of a religion " for all men/' or of " freedom for 
 all," there existed hardly an idea in the whole Eoman 
 world. In proportion as each nationality declined, so passed 
 away its religion. Shrines once venerable were now made 
 ridiculous ; their oracles were despised ; the gods, attired 
 in grotesque habits, appeared on the stage to excite 
 laughter ; and even the sanctity of vestals failed to secure 
 respect." 
 
 "Could philosophy do nothing for the restoration of 
 public morality ? Philosophy in all ages has held a retired 
 and abstract position ; has served well for the culture of a 
 few select minds ; but has had little or nothing to say to the 
 people, and has certainly done little or nothing to improve 
 their moral condition. In the depth of Eoman degradation 
 there existed still some stern precepts of moral philosophy ; 
 but they existed mostly in books, and were not exemplified 
 in life." 
 
 " In practical life there prevailed now over all law and 
 virtue one violent passion a thirst of acquisition. e Kem, 
 quocunque modo, rem ' this was the universal maxim. 
 Wealth must be got. Those who could grasp it ruined 
 themselves by luxury ; those who could not, were ruined by 
 oppression. For the most part, men whether rich or poor 
 were in one respect equal they no longer existed as men. 
 
240 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The rich buried themselves iu sensuality ; the poor treated 
 as senseless things, existing only to be made useful were 
 left to perish when they had worn themselves out." 
 
 "It was a world a chaos of moral desolation. And 
 in such a time surrounded by such a world in ruins 
 Christianity suddenly arose. Once more light appeared, 
 shining over a chaos, out of which a new world was to be 
 called into existence. The facts accompanying the revelation 
 were such as must be referred to a Divine Power. To One 
 who thus called a new world out of a moral chaos must be 
 ascribed a perfect union with the Supreme Power who, in 
 the beginning, ' created man in the likeness of God/ For 
 those who still reject this truth, there can exist no authority 
 in universal history." 
 
 Ethical inquiries have led chiefly to one question. 
 Historical inquiry and religious philosophy, founded on 
 universal history, both lead to the same question : Can the 
 events of the first century, and their results, be ascribed 
 to any power and authority merely human ; or less than 
 Divine ? 
 
 The confessed failure of ethical philosophy the moral 
 doctrine of Kant, and this considered chiefly with regard 
 to its independence has led us on to study a religious 
 philosophy, founded on the facts of universal history; and 
 the conclusions of this philosophy are such as strongly 
 support the historical evidences of Christianity. There 
 in the first century of the Christian era is the time when 
 the old world was passing away, and when events were 
 rapidly tending toward a violent disruption of society. 
 Then was most urgently required a movement that should 
 at once be ethical, religious, and authoritative ; but where 
 was the power by which such a vast movement could be 
 initiated? That ethical maxims, incomparably pure and 
 sublime, were then spread widely, and especially were made 
 known to the common people of Galilee and Judaea that 
 several circumstances favourable to the spread of information 
 were then co-existent and that a school of philosophy, not 
 

 
 CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 241 
 
 adverse to the idea of a new revelation, existed at Alex- 
 andria these are facts respecting which there is no dispute. 
 But how far can such facts serve to make clear the source 
 the power the success of the Christian revelation ? How 
 far can those circumstances of the time make logical or 
 consequent as ordinary effects of ethics or philosophy 
 the events attending the early spread of the Gospel, and all 
 the great results that have followed ? Can those facts serve 
 fairly as substitutes for our belief "Descendit Deus, ut 
 assurgamus " ? 
 
 The philosophy of history assures us, that neither ethics 
 nor any theory of religion, however sublime, can lead to 
 such results. The attempt to found a real and practical 
 religion on the sole basis of moral doctrine must be a 
 failure. Power must create authority ; and authority must 
 be required to make Christian ethics practical. Morality 
 cannot found a religion; but moral evidence beginning 
 with the confessed failure of ethical philosophy should lead 
 us on to the study of historical evidence. 
 
 There is in our conscience a moral law ; and it points to 
 the existence of a Lawgiver. So far Kant has led us ; but 
 his teaching if self-consistent must lead us on further 
 must point to historical facts. 
 
 If we inquire benevolently and earnestly if we seek 
 guidance, not for ourselves alone, but es for all men " we 
 must seek for a revelation that will make commonly known 
 such moral rules as are at once clear and special, as well as 
 general above all, such rules as are indisputable and 
 authoritative. And it is right, says Kant, that we should 
 practically accept Christianity as if it were really a Divine 
 revelation capable of historical demonstration. 
 
 It has been shown that this answer qualified by those 
 remarkable words "as if" is not satisfactory. To accept 
 the law, we must first admit the authority of the Lawgiver. 
 To accept the revelation as our moral guide, we must accept 
 also its historical evidences. 
 
 We are thus led on to a better philosophy. We are now 
 
 16 
 
242 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 taught, that as surely as there exists a will earnestly seeking 
 for truth, so surely exists the truth that may be found. 
 This is assumed by the great apostle St. Paul, as the basis 
 of his reasonings, in the introduction of his Epistle to the 
 Eomans. 
 
 Moral inquiry leads us to historical research. The lines 
 of inquiry one moral, the other historical are distinct; 
 at the same time, they are convergent. Together they 
 lead us toward one conclusion the historical truth of our 
 religion. 
 
 To this conclusion we have been guided though imper- 
 fectly and indirectly even by Kant, who, as far as was 
 possible, maintained the independence of morality. So long 
 as he thinks only of the individual of himself, in fact he 
 is contented with such guidance as he finds in his own 
 independent conscience; but when he contemplates the 
 moral wants of the whole world when he would appeal to 
 one central authority to which " all men owe allegiance," 
 he is compelled to own that Christianity alone can rightfully 
 demand universal obedience. 
 
 This doctrine is declared, more boldly and more clearly, 
 by Fichte, in his later writings. The same truth is main- 
 tained by both Schelling and Hegel, as the final result to 
 which they have been led by the philosophy of history and 
 religion. In a word, Christianity is they say " the abso- 
 lute religion." In substance it can never change ; the laws 
 of its progressive movement are contained within itself; 
 and its capability of expansion is infinite. 
 
 Hence it follows, that Christianity must be regarded, for 
 the future*, as the supreme controlling power in every truly 
 social or humanitarian movement. The philanthropy of the 
 eighteenth century cherished some designs that in them- 
 selves were good; but they failed. Why? For want of 
 the Divine aid which religion might have afforded. Those 
 designs are not forgotten, though cautious men are now 
 disposed to say little of the ideas that, near the close of the 
 eighteenth century, led men on to a revolutionary delusion. 
 
CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 243 
 
 The same optimistic ideas are still prevalent among large 
 classes especially in France and Germany and the danger 
 of delusion has not yet passed away. 
 
 The fact is made apparent by one argument, not unfre- 
 quently urged in these days by representatives of social 
 democracy. " The social principles/' they say, " that we are 
 now maintaining, may fairly be called Christian. In past 
 ages, these principles have with great benefit to society 
 been reduced to practice ; and this has been done on a very 
 large scale." 
 
 There are occasions when it is especially important, that 
 not only the truth, but " the whole truth " should be spoken. 
 Here the " principles " referred to may be found we are 
 told "in the Canon Law of the Catholic Church." This 
 is not a question to be discussed here. The one point to be 
 noticed in this ' ' social-democratic declaration " is simply 
 the fact of omission omission of all reference to religion. 
 
 Granting for a moment that the principles in question 
 were formerly reduced to practice, it must be remarked that 
 this was done in the establishment of confraternities called 
 especially " religious." They were established, not only 
 under the general sanction of religion, but under the special 
 sanctions of certain Christian precepts, which in this case 
 were, in the first place, interpreted with the utmost possible 
 rigour and, secondly, were accepted as special rules not 
 enforced at first by any authority, but chosen by those 
 who could yield a voluntary obedience. It is true that in 
 submission to such laws or principles, millions of men once 
 lived together in contented poverty ; but to contend that 
 this which was then done, and with the aid of religion 
 certainly under its sanction, then not doubted can now be 
 done, without the aid of religion, and in a society not 
 recognizing any religious sanction this among all the 
 results of false reasoning must be called the most absurd. 
 The argument, reduced to its most abstract form, is hardly 
 better than saying, a is true; but x is contrary to a; and 
 therefore x is true. 
 
 16 * 
 
244 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Of optimistic ideas, suggesting hopes of a brighter future, 
 the best that can be said is this : that something like them 
 more probably something better may some day be 
 realized, with the aid of true, historical, and practical 
 Christianity. It will not be done without such aid. 
 
 If the world is to be improved, it will be by men who do 
 not worship the world. The ideal and the real have been 
 set in opposition; but this is only one among the numerous 
 <c oppositions of science falsely so called." The best 
 beginning for a reformation of this world is to believe in 
 another. 
 
 Devotion to the highest common interests of humanity 
 must demand the self-sacrifice of many individuals. To 
 animate and encourage them, materialism, and " positivism " 
 the acme of negation can say but little. Why or for 
 whose sake should martyrs " spurn delights, and live 
 laborious days ?" They must first believe and love ; or 
 they cannot hope. The man of wide sympathies must feel 
 at times a deep discouragement surely if he lives in times 
 like our own when he surveys the past, and sees how slow 
 has been the progress made by those who have devoted 
 their labours their lives to establish and extend here a 
 kingdom that still is hardly visible. But he retains his 
 faith in the unseen world, and consequently his hope of a 
 better, brighter world to be some day made visible here. 
 There is an ideal light shining out from that light which 
 " was the light of men " still shedding radiance over the 
 gloom of this real world ; and in this light the true philan- 
 thropist sees hopeful signs, even where science can "prove " 
 that no rational ground of hope exists. 
 
 Take away faith and hope ; and let the world's reformation 
 be made wholly dependent on calculations of " self-interest" 
 however "well understood" then recurs the old problem 
 of Bentham's philosophy : how to find here " the greatest 
 possible happiness." How shall it be solved ? Men like 
 Kant and Fichte will doubtless still maintain their own 
 independence, controlled only by their own superior moral 
 

 CHAPTEE X. PRACTICAL EESULTS. TRANSITION. 245 
 
 will; and men like Carlyle will treat the question with 
 contempt ; but the majority of men will find some plausibility 
 in the solution proposed by Helvetius in 1758, and accepted 
 as law by multitudes living in his time : (< Let us eat and 
 drink, for to-morrow we die." 
 
 The practical alternative for society has on one side 
 Christianity ; on the other materialism and sensualism. 
 This general practical result agrees with the conclusions 
 to which men of high intelligence Fichte, Schelling, and 
 Hegel, to say nothing of others have been led by their 
 independent study especially by their philosophy of history 
 and religion. The whole of their teaching is not accepted 
 when these their conclusions respecting ethics and religion 
 are cited as deserving attention. Here are the thoughts 
 of men whose " freethinking " has not been very closely 
 restricted by any Christian prejudices ; and in this respect 
 their conclusions are the more worthy of notice. 
 
 That moral laws not based on religion are, for a vast 
 majority of mankind, destitute of authority, and therefore 
 powerless; that now, throughout the Western world, the 
 only possible religion must be Christian ; that the political 
 freedom, more and more widely spreading, is simply inevitable 
 is in fact a result of Christian civilization yet must lead 
 on to anarchy, if not controlled by religion ; that so far the 
 highest benefits have been conferred on society under the 
 sanction of the Christian religion, which has moreover 
 excited the highest hopes of future progress ; that these 
 hopes may be realized with the aid of religion, but never 
 can be without it these are conclusions very remarkable as 
 results of free philosophical inquiry. 
 
 Since the days of Kant, stili larger concessions have 
 been made by religious philosophy. Throughout the whole 
 course of history there has been traced, we are told, the 
 evolution of ideas leading nearer and nearer to those 
 revealed, or made clearly manifest, in the Christian religion. 
 In other words, the philosophy of history has utterly 
 rejected the dogmas of deism; and has returned, so to 
 
246 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 speak, to recognize as consonant with speculative views tlie 
 leading ideas of Christianity. 
 
 Morality, says Hegel in accordance with Fichte cannot 
 be a substitute for religion. Men will never be wholly 
 guided either by pure intellect, or by abstract moral 
 precepts. Religion worship of some kind essentially 
 belongs to human, nature; and if men cease to worship God, 
 they will turn, some few to worship genius and beauty^ 
 others a vast majority to worship the world and obey 
 their own passions. 
 
 Man has not been left solitary, to seek that which does 
 not exist. His need of religious aid has been supplied by a 
 revelation, in which the questions arising out of his own 
 conscience find their true answers. Such answers have 
 been given neither by deism nor by pantheism : the former 
 separates for ever our human nature from the Divine ; the 
 latter would lead were it possible to an adoration of the 
 universe, and to a confusion of all ethical ideas. On the 
 ground of these theories, the questions that throughout the 
 whole course of history have occupied the attention of men 
 especially those most thoughtful and conscientious must 
 all be dismissed as idle or absurd. 
 
 Thus, while religion is rejected, the common sense of 
 mankind in all ages is treated with contempt. The absolute 
 separation made in the theories of deism and pantheism, 
 between man and his Creator, is, says Hegel, the greatest 
 of all possible errors, and sets itself in opposition to the 
 testimony of the whole world. In Christianity we find the 
 truth corresponding at once with man's deepest con- 
 sciousness of his own sinful nature, and with his hope of 
 restoration to communion with God. 
 
 These conclusions viewed as concessions made on the 
 part of philosophy are highly remarkable, and must in the 
 sequel be more largely considered. In this place they have 
 served to confirm our position : that in modern controversy 
 especially since the time of Fichte though biblical 
 criticism has raised many minor doubts, the three lines of 
 
CHAPTER X. PRACTICAL RESULTS. TRANSITION. 247 
 
 evidences ethical, philosophical, and historical have con- 
 verged ; so that more and more clearly it is seen now, that 
 all three have been tending toward one point, a recognition 
 of truth in the central tenet of Christianity. About half a 
 century ago, such a result was almost clearly predicted, in 
 words already quoted (pp. 11-12). 
 
 Here where our analyses of ethical theories are ended 
 philosophy and theology, with all the literature directly 
 connected with religion, must for a time be dismissed. There 
 remains to be noticed the general literature especially the 
 poetry of the years 1770-1805, a time remarkable as the 
 classic period of German poetry, and mostly studied with 
 regard to its aesthetic culture. Here its moral and religious 
 characteristics will be especially noticed. 
 
 The transition from controversy to poetry is not as abrupt 
 as at first sight it may appear. Poetry has a most intimate 
 union with religion. Teaching, though divested of all 
 religious forms, may still be religious. On the other hand, 
 light literature, having no direct reference to religion, may 
 be more pernicious than any direct opposition to faith or 
 morality. In 1770-1800, where the writings of some philo- 
 sophical deist English or French might find some scores 
 of readers, Wieland, the poet and novelist, could find 
 hundreds, especially among the higher classes. 
 
 The force of these general remarks will be seen, when 
 we go on to notice the transition that took place in poetical 
 taste, in the days of Klopstock and Wieland. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 POETEY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 
 
 IN the time 1770-1800 there took place in general 
 literature especially in poetry a movement of transition, 
 as remarkable as the progress made in the same time by 
 rationalism. This is one of several facts cited now and 
 then to support a well-known theory that in every period 
 remarkable for its transitional character the general 
 literature of a people more or less represents their history 
 during the same time. There is some truth in the conclu- 
 sion ; but it is one that must not be accepted too widely. 
 The distinct traits of various classes of people, and those of 
 various localities must be considered; and the millions who 
 do not read, or have but little culture, must not be forgotten. 
 The literature of an age may be shallow, or sectarian ; and 
 therefore may tell us little respecting the people. 
 
 In our accounts of rationalism and negative philosophy, 
 nothing has been said respecting their spread in the South 
 of Germany. The reason is obvious ; there is little or 
 nothing to be said. There were indeed, in the South, some 
 movements of an innovating tendency ; but for the most 
 part they might be described as political and ecclesiastical. 
 In 1763 appeared the book "De statu ecclesise," written by 
 J. N. von Hontheim, Bishop of Trier, but published under 
 the disguise of a pseudonym Febronius. Two years later, 
 its doctrine a defence of the Grallican system in ecclesiastical 
 government was for the most part retracted by the author. 
 
 In Bavaria, and elsewhere in the South, the secret society 
 of the " Illuminati," founded by Weishaupt, was at one 
 

 CHAPTER XI. POETEY. KLOPSTOCK. WJELAND. 249 
 
 time spread rather widely. Its principles disguised by 
 a strange terminology were mainly those of the French 
 Revolution. But secret societies especially Freemasons' 
 Lodges were spread with far greater success in North 
 Germany, and included among their members many 
 men of note in literature. It was an open secret, that the 
 chief object of many of these societies was a social reforma- 
 tion, based upon principles not unlike those prevalent in 
 France. Yet it must not be understood that, to any 
 considerable extent, there were entertained ideas or designs 
 leading toward a violent disruption of society. 
 
 If the word " revolutionary " might be employed with a 
 force much subdued, it would serve well to denote the 
 general current of thought and feeling in Germany through- 
 out the latter half of Klopstock's life. He himself, when 
 sixty years old, was numbered among those who expected 
 that in France would first be seen the dawn of a political 
 millennium. In this there was nothing remarkable. The 
 poet "old-fashioned" in his religious creed accepted in 
 other respects the creed of the time a time when the 
 Emperor Joseph II was predicting for Europe l ' a universal 
 peace/' As regards politics, faith, and literature, the 
 tendencies of the age had one basis. It was generally 
 supposed that an erroneous belief respecting human nature 
 had too long prevailed. A new belief more hopeful was 
 now made the basis of a new philosophy. 
 
 Wieland was a man, comparatively speaking, insignificant. 
 His mind was for the most part imitative. It is not to be 
 understood that he began any new aesthetic movement in 
 literature; the transition most noticeable in his time was 
 made by younger men. Yet it is true that, in his early life, 
 and with deliberate intention, he renounced the old faith 
 and declared himself a teacher of the new. ' ' All the evils 
 of society/' said he, " have arisen out of tyranny and super- 
 stition." He next went on to show, that neither faith nor 
 authority was now required for the true education of man- 
 kind ; on the contrary, what was most needed was freedom 
 
250 GERMAN' CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 a freedom so wide that narrow-minded men would, no 
 doubt, call it licence. 
 
 The younger poetical men of his time did not accept 
 generally Wieland's artistic notions of poetry. To suppose 
 that they did so would be far from the truth. But it is 
 true, that Wi eland was almost the earliest of those who 
 proposed that, for the future, all connection of general 
 literature with Christianity should be severed ; it was 
 determined iu his day that poetry and art should be " non- 
 Christian." The general character of the time, when 
 f ' aesthetic culture " claimed supremacy, was first indicated 
 so far as religion and morality were concerned when 
 Wieland renouncing his early pietism suddenly changed 
 the moral tone of his writings. Klopstock was now left 
 almost alone to represent the old school, and so rapid was 
 the progress made by the new school that his epic poem, the 
 " Messias," was almost forgotten soon after the time (1773) 
 when its publication was completed. " The men of genius " 
 led on by Klinger and others now asserted their inde- 
 pendence and freedom in tones too violent to be allowed 
 in the present day. They too often remind one of Caliban's 
 wild ejaculations respecting his own anticipated emancipa- 
 tion. 
 
 The general character of the new poetical literature pro- 
 duced in the course of the time 1770-1800 is fairly indicated 
 by the words once made use of by Goethe in 1782. He 
 described his own belief at that time as " not ant i- Christian " 
 [in a polemical sense] "but decidedly non- Christian." 
 
 It is not intended that a word should be said here to 
 defend the error of narrow pietism the notion that all 
 poetry should be made directly subservient to religion. 
 Indirect services are too often underrated. True and pious 
 sentiments may be communicated without the use of any 
 words usually called " sacred." Tones hardly definable 
 may express deep and true thoughts and feelings. The 
 power of indirect teaching is too little understood ; and too 
 often badly employed. In our day, vice, when suggested, 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETRY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 251 
 
 is mostly suggested in an indirect way ; and the same may 
 be said of practical atheism. On the other side, feelings of 
 repulsion are too often excited by poetry called " sacrecl/' 
 of which the leading trait is a familiar use of words that 
 ought to be sacred. 
 
 In the criticism of poetry, great caution is requisite when 
 its moral and religious character is chiefly noticed. Verse 
 made formally ' ' sacred " mostly by an iteration of certain 
 words is too abundant ; while poetry having the true tone 
 of Christianity is comparatively rare. For obvious reasons, 
 hymns written for use in the public worship of various 
 congregations are here left unnoticed. 
 
 For the rest among the best productions of English 
 poetry written since the days of Pope, how little is found of 
 a kind that may be described as directly Christian. Pope's 
 best religious passages are theistic. The same description 
 applies to the three celebrated hymns in blank verse written 
 respectively by Milton, Thomson, and Coleridge. In the 
 classical " Elegy," written by Gray, there is little that can 
 be distinctly called Christian. The ethos of Wordsworth's 
 poetry is something far higher than morality, and its pre- 
 valent tone is devotional ; yet this great pcet omits, for the 
 most part, sentiments distinctly Christian. They are indeed 
 expressed freely in the verses beginning thus 
 
 " Not seldom, clad in radiant vest, 
 Deceitfully goes forth the Morn." 
 
 But these verses are exceptional among his poems. Here 
 are the traits called distinctly Christian. Of all those 
 traits the chief is that pronounced by Cowper, in the 
 following lines : 
 
 " . . . There lives and works 
 A soul in all things, and that soul is God. 
 The beauties of the wilderness are His. 
 
 . . . . One Spirit His 
 
 Who wore the platted thorns, with bleeding brows 
 Rules universal nature." 
 
 .In poetry of the highest class, we often find the general 
 
252 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 truth expressed in the first three lines ; but how rarely do 
 we read the distinct Christian truth expressed in the latter 
 lines ! 
 
 These prefatory remarks suffice to show the general 
 intention of the analyses that follow. General literature 
 above all, poetry has in relation to faith and morals, an 
 indirect influence that is powerful,, whether for good or for 
 evil. Our aim is to interpret the indirect teaching of a 
 literature that, in one respect, is more important than all 
 theology and philosophy. Even in Germany, how few are 
 the readers who know much of the warfare so long main- 
 tained between these two studies ! 
 
 Our following notices of poets and some other writers 
 will show how rationalism has been aided by general litera- 
 ture. There is, however, something on the other side to be 
 noticed. 
 
 All that has followed was clearly predicted when Klop- 
 stock a Christian poet, at least in intention was soon 
 forgotten, and when Wieland so rapidly gained popularity 
 by means of frivolity. 
 
 In order to appreciate fairly the work of a man's life, we 
 must know something of his own time and of the preceding 
 age'. The " Messias " is no longer read ; but the author's 
 name holds a prominent place in the history of German 
 Literature. A brief reference to that history may indicate 
 some characteristics of the time when he was hailed as an 
 epic poet deserving a place on a level with Milton. 
 
 A long time of dulness had hardly passed away when, in 
 ] 748, the first three cantos of the " Messias " appeared. In 
 the seventeenth century, Opitz had introduced a better style 
 of writing verse ; and we see a later improvement in many 
 of the hymns afterwards written f?r the services of the 
 Lutheran Church. The study of English Literature pro- 
 duced good results in the eighteenth century but they were 
 more apparent in prose than in verse. Gottsched, the arch- 
 critic of his time, deserved praise for putting down " the 
 Second Silesian School" the school of bad taste. Another 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETEY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 253 
 
 critic, Bodmer, deserved higher praise. He made a distinc- 
 tion between verse-writing and poetry, while he commended 
 the power and freedom of English poetry, and endeavoured 
 to restore to life the best productions of old times. Such 
 services to national literature must not be forgotten, though 
 they were mostly confined to theory. Bodmer was awaiting 
 the arrival of the poet who would convert the new poetical 
 theory into a reality, when suddenly Klopstock appeared 
 
 " [Bright] as a star, when only one 
 Is shining in the sky." 
 
 For several young versifiers who were his contemporaries 
 some diminutive term kinder than " poetaster" might be 
 found. They studied the rules of versification, and introduced 
 improvements in the forms of poetry ; but their themes were 
 too often trite sayings on "friendship, wine, and the beauties 
 of nature," and in all their variations there was but little 
 variety. 
 
 Neither the current poetical literature, nor the prevalent 
 creed, or rather doctrine, of the age could afford aid to a 
 young poet's inspirations. Rationalism, imported from 
 England, had reduced religion to a code of common-place 
 ethics, as clear as any frosty day in winter and as cold. 
 It could supply neither faith as a basis for epic, nor enthu- 
 siasm as a source of lyrical poetry. There may be found, 
 even in the hymns written by Gellert, some traces of the 
 prosaic tone prevalent in his time. His devotional poems, 
 though good in their own style, do not express the faith and 
 fervour of an earlier psalmody. These notices may indicate 
 some characteristics of the time when the earlier cantos of 
 the "Messias" appeared. 
 
 FRIEDRICH GOTTLIEB KLOPSTOCK, born (2nd July, 1724) at 
 Quedliriburg, enjoyed the advantages of a good classical 
 training at Schulp forte, one of several Saxon schools 
 endowed with the funds of suppressed convents and called 
 " the Princes' Schools." He studied theology at Jena and 
 Leipzig, 1745-6. When he went to Leipzig, a literary union 
 
254 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 called the Saxon School had been formed there, including 
 several young men whose friendship founded on congenial 
 tastes in literature was one of the most pleasing charac- 
 teristics of the time. In a journal called the "Bremer 
 Beitrage," which served as the literary organ of their 
 school, the first three cantos of the "Messias" appeared 
 anonymously in 1748; but the author's name was soon made 
 known. Bodmer declared, that the poet whose coming had 
 long been desired, had at last appeared, and Klopstock was 
 hailed with an enthusiasm which in our times seems almost 
 incomprehensible. In 1751 he received from Count Bern- 
 storf an invitation to the Court of Denmark. On his way 
 to Copenhagen, the young poet stayed for a while in 
 Hamburg, and there met the lady the " Cidli" of his 
 poetry whom he married in 1754. Her death (1758) was 
 the one deep sorrow of his life. A moderate pension, 
 granted in 1771, liberated him from domestic anxieties, and 
 his quiet routine of life at Copenhagen and Hamburg was 
 varied by visits to his native town and other places, including 
 Karlsruhe, where he stayed for some time (1776) with his 
 friend the Margrave of Baden. 
 
 In religion the writer of the " Messias " was a man of the 
 old school. He loved the Bible, and believed in it as a 
 record of the highest inspiration given to man. He felt no 
 sympathy with the enlightened men of Berlin; but in politics 
 he had a childlike faith in progress, and therefore hailed, in 
 patriotic odes, the American War of Independence and the 
 early proclamations of the French Revolution. " Forgive 
 me, O ye Franks \" he says, in one of these odes, " if 
 I ever cautioned my countrymen against following your 
 example; for now I am urging them to imitate you/' He 
 was about sixty years old when he wrote thus, but he lived 
 long enough to find all his hopes of a peaceful reigii of 
 freedom disappointed. As a reward for faith once reposed 
 in promises of a speedily-coming Utopia, he was elected 
 (1792) a member of the National Convention. It should 
 be added that loyalty and a love of rational freedom were 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETRY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 255 
 
 both asserted in his patriotic odes, as, for example, in one 
 where he says with reference to Friedrich II 
 
 " The patriot who loves freedom may revere 
 A father on the throne." 
 
 The declining years of the poet's life were passed in 
 quietude at Hamburg. He could look back with pleasure 
 on the period of youth and middle life ; for, though he was 
 not an ascetic pietist, his life had accorded well with his 
 own belief, that the practice of a literary man should be in 
 harmony with his teaching. He had endeavoured to banish 
 the notion of treating poetry as a plaything. For him it 
 was a sacred vocation, and he always remembered that he 
 had written the "Messias." 
 
 After a long life, cheered by the society of many good 
 friends, he died at Hamburg, May 14th, 1803, and was 
 buried under the shade of a linden-tree in the churchyard 
 of Ottensen, and close to the grave of his first wife. The 
 great commercial port did not neglect to pay funeral 
 honours to the poet who had so long been numbered with 
 its citizens. All the bells of Hamburg and Altona were 
 tolling, while more than a hundred carriages and thousands 
 of mourners followed the hearse. The elegies written after 
 the funeral were hardly as numerous as those that bewailed 
 the earlier death of Gellert. 
 
 Ail that is now generally known of Klopstock is, that he 
 wrote the " Messias," a poem once highly praised and now 
 almost forgotten. The change took place partly during the 
 author's life-time. The beginning of the epic was a labour 
 of love. The subsequent progress of the work was very 
 slow. When ten cantos had appeared, there were many 
 enthusiasts who could read through the epic. Goethe tells 
 us, that one of his father's friends used to read through the 
 first ten cantos once in every year, in the week preceding 
 Easter. The wonder is lessened when it is added that he 
 read hardly any other book. But in 1773, when the epic 
 was at last ended, enthusiasm had died away. It had 
 
256 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 become more and more apparent that the author had 
 written without a plan. When he published the first three, 
 he had made no provision for filling with interest twenty 
 long cantos of hexameter verse. 
 
 The " Messias " does not represent all the work of the 
 author's life. His genius shines out more clearly in his 
 odes devoted to friendship, patriotism, and the adoration of 
 God. Misled by his patriotism, the poet made a series of 
 failures in his dramas, founded on legends of the old time 
 of Hermann ; and a similar criticism might be applied to 
 the dramas on themes taken from the Bible. His writings 
 in prose are represented by the (< Kepublic of Scholars/" a 
 book directed, in part, against the severity of criticism and 
 therefore welcomed by several young authors, including 
 Goethe. 
 
 Klopstock's life and work should be estimated in their 
 connection with the development of a national poetic 
 literature. Great changes in thought and feeling took 
 place during his life-time. The forms in which his genius 
 expressed itself have partly become obsolete. How many 
 other works, once celebrated, have passed away since the 
 " Messias " first appeared ! During the time of the author's 
 youth, the critics Gottsched and Bodmer were enjoying a 
 high reputation. "When the epic was ended, Herder was 
 talking of "a poetry in harmony with the voices of the 
 peoples and with the whole heart of mankind/' Goethe 
 reduced a part of this vast theory to practice by writing 
 " Gotz von Berlichingen/' a drama soon followed by other 
 works of a sensational class, fairly represented, at last, in 
 Schiller's first play, the " Robbers." Such were the changes 
 that took place while the author of the " Messias" was still 
 in the prime of life. In his green old age we find him still 
 caring for literature, and on one occasion talking earnestly 
 of poetry with Wordsworth. 
 
 The most obvious defect in the " Messias " is its want of 
 plot and action. The first three cantos are introductory. 
 The fourth gives a narrative of the conspiracy against 
 
7^>- OP 1 THS 
 
 (TJin.VfiIl a< 
 
 
 CHAPTER XI. POETRY. KLOP3TOCK. WIELAND. 257 
 
 Jesus, and contains several long speeches, which 
 eloquent, and express a heartfelt devotion. The subsequent 
 trial and the Crucifixion supply themes for the next six 
 cantos. The remaining ten are confined to the period 
 intervening between the Crucifixion and the Ascension. 
 The events narrated are not enough to fill with poetic 
 interest twenty long cantos of hexameter verse. To supply 
 a want of action, long conversations of men and angels are 
 freely introduced; but neither angels nor men have any 
 true individuality. The best parts of the poem are its 
 lyrical and descriptive passages. The epic so-called may 
 indeed be fairly described as a series of conversations and 
 descriptions with some fervid, lyrical interludes. Similes 
 are very freely introduced, and, though often bold and 
 original, are sometimes too far extended, as in the passage 
 where Satan comes to tempt Judas. The approach of the 
 fiend is thus compared to the coming of a pestilence : 
 
 " So, at the midnight hour, a fatal plague 
 Conies down on cities lying all asleep. 
 The people are at rest ; or here and there 
 A student reads beside his burning lamp, 
 And, here and there, where ruddy wine is glowing, 
 Good friends are waking ; some, in shadowy bowers, 
 Talk of their hopes of an immortal life 
 None dreaming of the coming day of grief." . . . 
 
 It is well conceived, that envy, the basest of all passions, 
 is represented as the traitor's motive. A dream presents to 
 Judas a false vision of rich, earthly domains to be divided 
 among the favoured followers of the Master. Then the 
 traitor's own allotment is described as 
 
 " A narrow, desolate tract of hills and crags, 
 Wild and unpeopled, overgrown with briars ; 
 Night, veiled in chilly, ever-weeping clouds, 
 Hangs o'er the land, and in its barren clefts 
 The drifted snows of winter linger long ; 
 There birds of night, condemn'd for aye to share 
 That solitude with thee, flit through the gloom 
 And wail among the trees with thunders riven. 
 That desert, Judas, is to be thine own !" 
 
 17 
 
258 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 When the traitor has conceived his design, and resolved 
 to execute it, the triumph of the tempter is thus de- 
 scribed : 
 
 ..." With a silent pride, 
 Satan looked down upon him. O'er the flood 
 So towers some dreadful cliff, and from the clouds 
 Looks down upon the waves, all strewn with wrecks 
 And corpses." . . . 
 
 Bold similes are also introduced in the more subdued 
 passages, as in the narrative of the journey to Emmaus. 
 The mourning disciples meet a stranger who converses with 
 them, and kindly, yet with energetic words, reproves their 
 doubts and fears : 
 
 " His words were like a storm that, while restrain'd, 
 Stirs not the far recesses of the wood ; 
 There in deep glades the pale-green shadows sleep, 
 For clouds have not yet blotted out the sun. 
 Thus for a time ; but soon with greater power 
 The Stranger speaks "... 
 
 " So through the forest blows 
 The storm, with all its strength in every blast ; 
 Now bend the trees, with quivering boughs all bend 
 Before the gale that drives on clouds of thunder, 
 And urges wave on billow o'er the ocean." 
 
 The rest of the canto from which the last quotation is 
 taken may be referred to as containing, here and there, 
 pleasing traits of description associated with expressions of 
 pious feeling. But if isolated passages of descriptive power 
 and lyric enthusiasm were more numerous, they could not 
 make the "Messias" an epic worthy of its theme. The 
 author failed where every poet, however great, must fail. 
 The facts of the evangelical narrative admit no additions, 
 while the thoughts transcend all poetry. Profound humilia- 
 tion united with a calm assertion of boundless power; 
 predictions called dreams fulfilling themselves in defiance 
 of the world ; kingdoms, empires, religions and philosophies 
 fading away before the presence of One who was " despised 
 and rejected of men " here are wonders that can never be 
 made more marvellous by any array of mythological imagery. 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETEY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 259 
 
 Epic poetry demands a union of idea and form; in other 
 words, it must express thoughts in action and external show, 
 such as may captivate the attention of readers. But the 
 theme chosen by Klopstock is the greatest possible anti- 
 thesis of idea and form. As it has hitherto defied all the 
 efforts of reasoning to bring it down to the level of common- 
 place history, so it asserts itself as independent of all such 
 decorations as epic poetry can supply. It is no more a fit 
 subject for epic poetry than for controversy ; but will ever- 
 more supply themes for the highest lyrical poetry the 
 poetry of the heart. This is the department of literature 
 in which Klopstock was most successful. 
 
 His lyrical works include several hymns, and a number of 
 more elaborate odes, written in alcaic, choriambic and other 
 antique metres and without rhyme. The favourite subjects 
 of the odes are mostly friendship, patriotism, and adoration 
 of Creative Power. In some of his odes, contemplations of 
 nature serve to introduce passages of fervid thanksgiving, 
 like those found in the Hebrew Psalms, to which he was 
 more or less indebted for inspiration in stanzas like this : 
 
 " Roar, Ocean ! to proclaim His praise, 
 
 Sing, rivers ! as ye flow ; 
 Ye forests, bow ! Ye cedar-trees, 
 Your lofty heads bend low !" 
 
 We cannot for a moment compare with such hymns as 
 were written in the seventeenth century Klopstock's hymns, 
 intended apparently for use in public worship. There is 
 greater power in the odes of adoration ; but they are some- 
 times too long, and many passages are subjective. The 
 poet refers too often to his own feelings, though the refer- 
 ence mostly expresses a profound humiliation. He too 
 frequently confesses that he knows not what to say, as in 
 the following stanza : 
 
 " When I would sing of Thee, Most High ! 
 
 Where shall the theme begin ? where end ? 
 What angel can the thoughts supply- 
 That should with tones of thunder blend ?" 
 
 17 * 
 
260 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The other stanzas of the ode consist mostly of a long 
 simile in which the poet compares his own presumption with 
 that of a mariner lost in an attempt to explore an unbounded 
 ocean. Here the German poet and a Persian mystic meet, 
 and both are possessed by one idea, when they speak of 
 One before whom " the nations are counted as less than 
 nothing and vanity." In concise energy of expression 
 Jelaleddin has the advantage, at least in this couplet : 
 
 " Earth, water, air and fire LOKD, in thy presence, none 
 Asserts itself; but all, in fear, lie down as one." 
 
 Among the odes devoted to friendship may be found 
 besides some weak sentimental specimens several of a 
 higher character ; but their merits are so closely united with 
 their antique metres that a fair translation is hardly possible. 
 The following version of an ode entitled ' ' Early Graves " 
 may give the thoughts, and, perhaps the tone of the 
 original : 
 
 " Welcome, O moon, with silver light, 
 
 Fair, still companion of the night ! 
 O friend of lonely meditation, stay, 
 While clouds drift o'er thy face, and pass away. 
 
 " Still fairer than this summer-night 
 
 Is young May-morning, glad and bright, 
 When sparkling dew-drops from his tresses flow, 
 And all the eastern hills like roses glow. 
 
 " O Friends, whose tombs, with moss o'ergrown, 
 
 Remind me, I am left alone, 
 How sweet to me, ere you were called away, 
 Were shades of night and gleams of breaking day !" 
 
 It has been said with some truth that Klopstock and 
 Wieland were the antitheses of each other. The name 
 of Wieland still holds a place in literary history, while 
 his works, excepting his epic poem " Oberon," are 
 almost forgotten. They have been praised mostly on 
 account of an easy and fluent style ; while their purport 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETRY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 261 
 
 has been censured by all critics who believe tha,t true 
 poetry and pure moral culture should be united. 
 
 CHRISTOPH MARTIN WIELAND,, the son of a Lutheran 
 pastor, was born in 1733, in a village near Biberach. 
 Under his father's care, he received a good primary educa- 
 tion, and afterwards continued his studies at the school of 
 Kloster-Bergen (near Magdeburg), and at Erfurt and 
 Tubingen. In the years 1749-52 he sketched for himself 
 the outlines of all that wide and superficial knowledge of 
 poly history which is found in his writings. In 1752 he 
 went to Zurich, there stayed for some time with his friend 
 Bodmer, and afterwards was engaged, for about five years, 
 as a private tutor in two families. During this time he 
 wrote rather extensively and in a sentimental, unreal tone, 
 on religious subjects. A long passage of prose followed 
 the poetry of his youthful years. During the interval 
 1760-69 he fulfilled the duties of town-clerk at Biberach; 
 and there married a homely, domesticated woman. The 
 prose of the nine years at Biberach was relieved by frequent 
 visits to a neighbouring mansion at Warthausen, the 
 residence of Count Stadion. Here the French tastes and 
 manners of the time, the sciolism called enlightenment, and 
 the epicurean teaching called philosophy were united for the 
 seduction of Wieland, and the result of their combined 
 attractions was a marvellous change of character. His 
 tastes and talents were perverted. The youth, once so pious, 
 in whom Bodmer had hoped to find a second Klopstock, 
 now appeared as the writer of sceptical and epicurean 
 stories. The results of his second course of education are 
 found in a series of imaginative writings which may here 
 be left for the most part unnoticed. 
 
 In 1769 he accepted the professorship of philosophy at 
 Erfurt, where he remained until 1772. The duchess Anna 
 Amalia then invited him to Weimar, where, until 1774, he 
 was engaged as tutor to the young princes Karl August and 
 Constantin. When the elder pupil had attained his majority, 
 
262 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Wieland received a pension with elevation in social position. 
 All the rest of his life may be briefly described as a time 
 of domestic repose protected from ennui by a literary 
 productivity that could find no termination save in death. 
 He established and conducted " the German Meicury," a 
 review that had a great success (1773-89), and was followed 
 by the "New German Mercury" (1790-95). Soon after- 
 wards he began "the Attic Museum" (1796-1801), which 
 was followed by the "New Attic Museum" (1802-10). 
 Meanwhile he wrote, in prose and verse, various stories, 
 didactic in his own way or fantastic, and too numerous 
 to be named here. His writings (collected in 1818-28) fill 
 fifty-three volumes. When fairly contrasted with all that 
 he had to tell, his literary industry was enormous. In his 
 later years he wrote on with unwavering perseverance, 
 though the generation that had admired his early stories 
 had ceased to live. The young men of the new generation 
 were divided into two classes. On one side were those 
 called innovators ; on the other the men who were admirers 
 of Klopstock. Both classes disliked Wieland. He had, 
 they said, no original genius ; he was no poet. This was 
 the censure pronounced by the innovators, who described 
 themselves as the sound and healthy children of nature 
 
 ..." As free as nature first made man, 
 When [wild] in woods the noble savage ran ! " 
 
 The censure pronounced by the other party was more 
 severe ; for it had respect to the moral faults of his writings. 
 It did not greatly disturb the repose that Wieland so long 
 enjoyed at Weimar. Here, placed in easy circumstances, 
 and surrounded by friends with whom he lived on good 
 terms, he maintained his literary activity to an advanced 
 age, and died in 1813. 
 
 The personal character of Wieland was morally respect- 
 able ; and he was mostly regarded as an amiable man. 
 These facts make the more remarkable the licentious traits 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETEY. KLOPSTOCK. WTELAND. 263 
 
 of his stories. In several of his writings he makes such a 
 free use of irony that we are left in doubt respecting his 
 intention. If we accept as serious many passages in his 
 stories, we must come to the conclusion that a singular fixed 
 idea had possession of his mind. He seems to have believed 
 that a tendency to ascetic doctrine and practice was the 
 prevalent error of his own times ! To counteract that 
 supposed tendency, he deliberately recommends doctrine 
 and practice that may be called " epicurean " in the worst 
 sense of the word. If he is ever earnest, it is in warning 
 his readers of the unhappy tendencies of strict piety. He 
 cannot forgive the teachers who led him to study in a severe 
 school during his youth ; and the object of several of his 
 works is to expose the error of that school. In his poems, 
 " Musariori " and " the Graces/' he repeats, again and 
 again, his censure of ascetic notions of virtue. " Musarion" 
 tells the story of a youth who, by severe early discipline, is 
 led to retire from society, but soon finds out that he is not 
 well qualified for a hermit's life. In " The New Amadis " 
 the difficulty of finding wisdom and beauty united in one 
 person is playfully described, and the hero, after a vain 
 search for such perfection, marries a plain and intelligent 
 wife. This conclusion, however dull, is the most edifying 
 part of the story, of which some details are treated with 
 great licence. In ' ' Agathon," a romance in prose, the 
 writer is severe, but only against severity, and again 
 denounces the stern doctrines impressed on his memory in 
 early life. These are now represented by the teachings of 
 an antique philosophy. Agathon, a Greek youth, is educated 
 at Delphi, and afterwards lives at the court of Dionysius, 
 where he learns to regard as impracticable all the moral 
 theories of his early teachers. 
 
 Wieland's most artistic work " Oberon," a romantic 
 poem has its scenes in the East and in Fairy Land. 
 Three distinct stories are well united so as to form a whole ; 
 for each depends on the others. Groethe said : " As long as 
 
261 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 gold is gold, and crystal is crystal, Oberon will be admired." 
 On the other side, severer critics have described the poem as 
 fantastic and destitute of strong interest. The author, it is 
 said, treated mediaeval legends and fairytales in a superficial 
 and ironical manner, and gained his popularity by assuming 
 a light, mock-heroic style. 
 
 In his antique romance " The Abderites " (1774), Wieland 
 made no pretence of describing life in ancient Greece, but 
 employed an assumed antiquity as a veil for light satire on 
 the petty interests and foibles of provincial life. The long 
 account of the great law-suit at Abdera is the most amusing 
 part of the story, and is as good as anything that he has 
 written. He tells us that, in Abdera, there was only one 
 surgeon-dentist, who had an extensive practice in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and travelled, in a lowly fashion, from place to 
 place. On one occasion, he hired an ass and its driver to 
 carry his small baggage across a wide heath. It was a hot 
 and bright summer's day ; there was neither tree nor bush 
 to cast a foot of shade anywhere, and the weary surgeon- 
 dentist was glad to sit down and rest a while in the shadow 
 cast from the figure of the ass. Against this appropriation 
 of a shade the driver, who was also the owner of the ass, 
 made a protest to the effect that he had sold the services of 
 the ass and his own ; but that nothing had been said in the 
 bargain about any use of the shadow ! The dentist must 
 therefore either come out of the shade, or pay something 
 extra for its use. As he refused to do so, a law-suit followed ; 
 the best lawyers of Abdera were employed on each side ; 
 both the claimant and the defendant were strongly supported 
 by their respective friends, and the whole population of the 
 town was soon divided into two parties, styled respectively, 
 "Asses" and " Shadows." 
 
 Wieland was inspired by no lofty ideas of a poet's mission. 
 The duty of a poet, as he understood it, was to amuse his 
 readers, and to fulfil it he must be, in the first place, con- 
 ciliatory ; he must adapt both his subject and his style to 
 
CHAPTER XI. POETRY. KLOPSTOCK. WIELAND. 265 
 
 the fashion of his times. The taste of readers in the higher 
 classes of society was still French when he began to write 
 fictions. German literature must be changed, in order that 
 it might be introduced to courts and to the higher circles. 
 Wieland saw the necessity of this change, and while he 
 wrote with gracefulness and vivacity, he extended greatly 
 the range of topics found in light literature, and treated 
 them in a style adapted to the tastes of the upper classes. 
 For them the pious enthusiasm of Klopstock was tiresome, 
 and they complained, not without cause, of his pompous 
 and intricate style. No fault could be found in Lessing's 
 style ; but the great critic was a close thinker and wished 
 to make his readers think also. This was in itself intolerable, 
 and, moreover, he had the fault of refusing to write on such 
 topics as the aristocracy cared for. Wieland understood 
 their prejudices, and wrote to suit them. He had been 
 educated under the influence of pietism; but he liberated 
 himself from its restraints, and became as free in the treat- 
 ment as in the choice of his subjects. This change in both 
 style and purport took place so suddenly that it excited 
 surprise. To use Lessing's words " Wieland' s muse made 
 a sudden descent from heaven to earth I" It may be added, 
 that his literary success was chiefly won by this bold tran- 
 sition. 
 
 On the other hand, his contributions to the culture of a 
 literary style must not be forgotten. Many of his con- 
 temporaries were indebted to him for examples of lively 
 and fluent writing. He extended the culture of literature 
 in the southern states, and enlarged for many readers the 
 boundaries of their imaginative world. 
 
 " Wieland," says Dr. Vilmar, " was the man of his time, 
 for readers infected with the subtle and sweet poison of the 
 French literature then current ; especially for the higher 
 classes, to whom thinking was tedious and enthusiasm 
 ridiculous. To such people, who had formerly been de- 
 pendent on the French, Wieland introduced a German 
 
266 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 literature well suited to their taste, and it is merely by tlieir 
 interest in the materials of his works that we can now under- 
 stand why he received, during his life, such praises as were 
 hardly ever bestowed on Klopstock, and never on Lessing." 
 This is only the lighter part of the critic's just reprobation 
 of Wieland's moral tendencies. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 KLOPSTOCK wished to make poetry religious and national. 
 Wieland was content if idle readers could find amusement 
 in such fictions as he produced. The forms and laws of 
 poetic art were defined by Lessing. Herder suggested a 
 true idea of poetic inspiration, and gave some guidance to 
 the expanding genius of Goethe. These were the chief 
 events that in the course of the years 1770-94 led on to 
 the development of a new poetical literature the classic 
 poetry of Goethe and Schiller. 
 
 About the time 1776, there lived at Weimar a little city 
 situated on the river Ilm, in Thuringia a circle of literary 
 men among whom were numbered Knebel, Wieland, Herder 
 and Goethe. As far as regards his religious views, Herder 
 was the most positive man of the circle. For the rest it 
 is not easy to give any precise account either of their belief 
 or their unbelief. Their creed was small, and for the 
 most part rationalistic. Knebel at that time a materialist 
 translated the ' ' De Rerum Natura " of Lucretius ; and 
 Goethe about the same time was thinking of writing some 
 book more or less resembling that Epicurean poem. These 
 were but ordinary signs of a wide-spread unbelief prevalent 
 at Weimar as elsewhere. Independence and indifference 
 are words that might, perhaps, better describe the position 
 then assumed by Goethe and his friends. It was their aim 
 to develop a free and aesthetic culture of poetry and 
 general literature : the notion that their sole aim was a 
 culture of " art for the sake of art " is an error. 
 
 Herder, when talking of poetry especially of Hebrew 
 
268 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 poetry said many things that, as given in his own declama- 
 tory style,, seemed vague ; yet they were well understood 
 011 the whole by Goethe, and afforded considerable aid in 
 the development of his poetic genius. He learned partly 
 through his own insight, partly by the aid of Herder's 
 teaching that true poetry is closely united with religion. 
 This text he interpreted in accordance with his own so- 
 called " pantheistic " views ; and thus his poetic worship of 
 nature was made a substitute for religion. It is not intended 
 that this should be understood in an unqualified sense, or 
 accepted as a fair summary of his creed. Indeed, no 
 attempt will be made here to give any precise or complete 
 account of his belief. It is the general, indirect tendency 
 of his writings above all his poetry that must be 
 especially noticed. So well known are the leading facts 
 in his biography, that in this place a rather bare outline may 
 suffice. He lived so long that he was acquainted with the 
 men of three generations. He began his studies in the time 
 of tlie Seven Years' War ; he was writing his autobiography 
 during the War of Liberation, and was studying zoology 
 when the July revolution took place. 
 
 JOHANN WOLFGANG GOETHE, the son of parents who 
 belonged to the wealthy section of the middle class, was 
 born at Frankfurt am Main, 28th August, 1749. All the 
 domestic circumstances in which he passed his time of 
 boyhood were happy; and his mother was a remarkably 
 cheerful and genial woman. His visits to the theatre and 
 his intercourse with French officers (during the occupation 
 of Frankfurt) were circumstances of some importance in his 
 early education. When sixteen years old, he went to study 
 law at Leipzig, but paid more attention to poetry than to 
 law. He had written a poem "on the Descent of Christ 
 into Hades " before he went to Leipzig, and during his 
 three years at the university he wrote some lyrical poems, 
 besides two light dramatic sketches " A Lover's Humour" 
 and " the Accomplices/' These, it is said, were anony- 
 mously published in 1769, but no copies of that date have 
 
CHAPTER XI i. GOETHE. 269 
 
 been found. In 1768 he returned home, and in 1770 went 
 to Strassburgto complete his law-studies. Again, however, 
 these held but a subordinate place in his estimation. His 
 attention was partly occupied with chemistry and anatomy, 
 and he was led by Herder to study the poetry found in the 
 Old Testament, in Homer and Shakespeare, and in "the 
 people's songs" of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. 
 Such studies served in later years to educate the poet and 
 to place him far above the young men of his time, who 
 were loudly hailing a coming revolution in literature. 
 These were " the original geniuses," and to their class he 
 for some time after 1770 belonged. Innovation had 
 attacked morals, manners, and religion, and had invaded 
 the realm of imaginative literature. It was decreed, that 
 the poetry of the past age must be cast aside as a worn-out 
 sort of manufacture. " It was made, not inspired," said 
 the critics of the time, and their judgment was confirmed 
 by Goethe. All the young men of genius were agreed, 
 that what was now wanted was something new, wonderful, 
 never dreamed of before in the world ! They next undertook 
 to supply the poetry wanted for the future and wrote quite 
 enough of it. One wrote a wild play called " Sturm und 
 Drang," and these two words meaning Storm and Pressure 
 were accepted as the name of the period also known as 
 " the time of the original geniuses." When they said that 
 the poetry of the old times was made, and not inspired, 
 they seemed to forget that their own was for the most part 
 neither inspired nor made. In several instances their lives 
 were as wild as their notions of genius and poetry. 
 
 These young enthusiasts were delighted in 1773, when 
 Goethe published his drama, " Gotz von Berlichingen." It 
 realized the ideal desiderated by the originals. It was a 
 national drama, and the character of its hero was not too 
 remote from popular sympathies. The play was written in 
 defiance of the rules of the French drama, and therefore 
 was hailed by lovers of innovation. On the other hand, 
 Gotz gave offence to all admirers of the French theatre, 
 
270 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 including the King, who spoke of the new drama as " Tine 
 imitation detestable de ces abominables pieces de Shak- 
 speare." A still greater success followed the publication 
 of the sentimental romance, " The Sorrows of Werther/' in 
 1774. Some parts of the work were founded on the writer's 
 experience, but were given in connection with several ficti- 
 tious circumstances. The public accepted the story as a 
 faithful biography, and, for a time, the incidents were 
 talked of as facts that had taken place at Wetzlar. Travel- 
 lers came there to find some relics of the melancholy 
 man who died for love, and the landlord of an inn there 
 raised a small mound of earth in his garden, and, for a 
 trifling gratuity, exhibited it as " the grave of the unfortu- 
 nate Werther." All the blame of this extravagance must not 
 be cast on Goethe. His sentimental romance was the effect 
 of a literary epidemic, which he afterwards treated with 
 ridicule in his " Triumph of Sensibility.^ In the years 
 1774-76, he wrote, besides some parts of "Faust" and 
 " Eginont," several satirical pieces, the plays f( Clavigo/' 
 " Stella " and " Claudine von Villa Bella/ 5 and the operetta 
 " Erwin and Elmire." Meanwhile he found time to help 
 his friend Lavater in collecting portraits for his costly and 
 once famous book on physiognomy, and made a tour on the 
 Rhine. His associates on this journey were Lavater, the 
 mystic pietist, and Basedow, the rationalist ! Hamann and 
 Nicolai should have been with them ; then the party would 
 have been complete, as representative of a time when all 
 sorts of contradictions were thrown together. At an inn 
 at Coblenz so Goethe tells us Lavater was busy in 
 explaining the Apocalypse to a rural pastor, and Basedow 
 was attacking the orthodoxy of a dancing-master, while 
 the author of Gotz was quietly eating a slice of salmon 
 and a pullet. 
 
 In 1775 as some authors have said the youthful period 
 in Goethe's career was closed. This precise statement 
 seems due to a love of systematic writing ; for it makes the 
 poet's youth close with his removal to Weimar. It is true, 
 
CHAPTEE XII. GOETHE. 271 
 
 he was twenty-seven years old when he received from the 
 young prince Karl August of Saxe-Weirnar an invitation to 
 his Court, and, soon afterwards, the poet was made a 
 member of the privy council; but at Weimar, in its genial 
 time, the cares of state were supposed to be reconcilable 
 with the playfulness of youth. For the amateur theatre at 
 Weimar, he wrote several slight dramatic pieces, and 
 " Iphigenia " in its first form. This drama was afterwards 
 greatly improved and written completely in verse in 1 786, 
 when the poet was travelling in Italy. Apart from considera- 
 tions of popularity or fitness for theatrical representation, 
 " Iphigenia" may be described as the author's most artistic 
 drama. All its parts are closely united, its motives are clearly 
 developed, and one consistent tone of dignity and repose 
 prevails from the beginning to the end. But readers who 
 wish to find here the stirring incidents and loud passion of 
 a modern play may find in this modern-antique drama the 
 coldness of Greek sculpture, as well as its repose. 
 
 " Iphigenia " was followed by another drama, " Tasso," 
 at first written in prose (1780-81), and completed in iambic 
 verse in 1789. In its general purport it represents the 
 truth, that the highest genius wants a moral as well as an 
 intellectual education. "A hundred times/' says Goethe, 
 " I have heard artists boast, that they owed everything to 
 themselves, and I have often been provoked to reply, * Yes, 
 and the result is just what might have been expected.' ' J 
 The central character of the drama represents enthusiasm 
 and genius, wanting education in the highest sense of 
 the word. The thoughts and feelings of the poet take 
 the place of external incidents ; in other words, the 
 action is intellectual and emotional. The three dramas 
 "Egmont," "Iphigenia," and " Tasso" were followed 
 by some inferior productions. In accordance with his habit 
 of putting into some form more or less poetical all events 
 that were parts of his own experience, Goethe wrote several 
 dramatic works having reference to the political movements 
 of the age. Here, in several passages, he exposed the 
 
272 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 corruption of the upper classes in France, and expressed his 
 belief that such an outburst of the lowest passions as had 
 occurred in Paris could never have been made possible save 
 by an extremely bad government. The drama " Eugenie," or 
 " The Natural Daughter" (1801), was intended to form the 
 first part of a trilogy a circumstance that explains its slow 
 progression and want of dramatic effect. The whole design 
 of which only a part was completed was intended to 
 include an exposition of the writer's views respecting the 
 He volution. To divert his attention from the miserable 
 events of the time he translated the old epic of " Reynard 
 the Fox." 
 
 A work far greater in design and in power of execution 
 than any yet named appeared in 1790, when "Faust" was 
 published as " a fragment/' There are some poems that are 
 as remarkable for the attractive power of their subjects as 
 for their literary merits. The master-thought of " Prome- 
 theus Bound " might have given success to a play written 
 by a poet inferior to .ZEschylus. Without a word to detract 
 from the poetic merits of Cervantes, it may be said that the 
 world- wide fame of his great romance is partly owing to his 
 happy choice of a subject. But a theme of far wider and 
 deeper interest the myth of Faust haunted the mind of 
 Goethe from youth to old age. Had he treated the story 
 with less power, it might still have been successful ; for, 
 while its form and many of its details are intensely German, 
 its interest is universal. It is founded on a melancholy 
 truth a truth of which the poet was profoundly conscious, 
 even in the time of his old age there is a feeling of duality 
 in human nature. " Two souls," says Faust, " are striving 
 in my breast ; each from the other longing to be free." 
 In fact, the two souls represented in the play as Faust and 
 his evil " companion " Mephistopheles are one ; but for 
 poetic purposes the light and the darkness are separated. 
 The mind that would liberate, refine, and even consecrate 
 nature is put apart from the brutal and fiendish mind that 
 would degrade and destroy nature, and so we have on one 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 273 
 
 side the man on the other, the fiend. In the exposition of 
 the drama, Faust binds himself to his own lower nature ; in 
 the development, he strives more and more to liberate him- 
 self ; and he at last succeeds, in his way. As he rises towards 
 freedom, the distance between his own character and that of 
 his companion increases, until death makes the separation 
 perfect. On the other hand, the character of the enemy, as 
 it is made more and more distinct from that of Faust, 
 becomes also more and more darkly shaded. The fiend 
 appears, at first, as a cynical satirist, not without humour ; 
 but as the story proceeds, he is described as a sorcerer and 
 a murderer. He is Satan, without any disguise, in the 
 midst of infernal revels on the Blocksberg, and at the close 
 of the drama in the second part his character appears still 
 worse, though this might seem impossible. Faust is made 
 for a short time to act as the slave of the tempter, and 
 it is contrived that, while in this mood, he shall meet the 
 heroine, Margaret, a poetical representative of nature herself 
 in her primeval innocence. Her presence makes the contrast 
 between Faust and his bad attendant more apparent. The 
 latter becomes more and more cynical. He has assumed 
 the disguise of a modern gentleman ; but is detected at 
 once by his victim's intuition. A slight halt in the left foot 
 might be concealed, but his sneer betrays him to the girl's 
 clear insight. She tells his character in a few simple 
 words : 
 
 " You see that he with no soul sympathizes : 
 Tis written on his face he never loved. . . 
 Whenever lie conies near, I cannot pray." 
 
 Faust, under the influence of these suggestions, learns to 
 abhor his evil genius, and, in a soliloquy, expresses a longing 
 to be freed from contact with him : 
 
 " With this new joy that brings 
 Me near and nearer Heaven, was given to me 
 This man for my companion ! He degrades 
 My nature, and with, cold and insolent breath 
 Turns Heaven's best gifts to mockeries ! " 
 
 18 
 
271 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Meanwhile, with a foreboding of coming sorrow, Margaret, 
 sitting alone at her spinning-wheel, is singing 
 
 " My heart is heavy, 
 My peace is o'er ; 
 I shall find it never ; 
 Oh never more ! " 
 
 Subsequent scenes in the drama blend together the most 
 discordant elements. The highest passion and the lowest 
 cynicism, ideal aspiration and the coarsest materialism, 
 mysticism and prosaic commonplace, ethereal, religious 
 poetry, and profane caricature : all are strangely mingled. 
 Margaret by the machinations of the demon is sur- 
 rounded with a cloud of guilt and disgrace. Her mother, 
 her brother, and lastly her own child, are destroyed ; and of 
 two of these crimes she has been made an unconscious 
 agent. Tormented by the terrors of the guilt that belongs 
 to others, she seeks refuge in the cathedral, where she used 
 to pray when a child. There an evil spirit haunts her while 
 the tones of the organ and the choir singing the " Dies 
 irse " threaten condemnation : 
 
 JSvil Spirit. " Ah, happier in her childhood's day, 
 Margaret in innocence would come to pray, 
 And, kneeling here, heside the altar-stairs, 
 With tiny book in hand, lisped out her prayers, 
 While thinking half of Heaven and half of play ! 
 
 Would'st thou pray now for thine own mother's soul 
 Sent by thyself into her long, last sleep ? " 
 
 Margaret. " Woe ! Woe ! Were I but free 
 
 From these bad thoughts that follow me 
 And threaten me, where'er I go ! " 
 
 She is condemned to die. The sentence of death has 
 been passed upon her, when Faust comes, before daybreak, 
 intending to snatch her away from the sword of the exe- 
 cutioner. 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 275 
 
 Faust. " 'Tis dawning, love ! no tarrying ; haste away ! " 
 
 Margaret. " Yes, it grows light ; it brings to me the day 
 That is to be my last ! and 'twas to be 
 The morning for my wedding ! 
 
 Ah ! see the crowd is gathering ; but how still 
 The streets ! the square ! 
 It cannot hold the thousands that are there ; 
 The bell is tolling ; now they bind me fast, 
 They hurry me along ; there shines the sword 
 To fall upon no neck but mine ! How dumb 
 All the world lies around me, like the grave ! " 
 
 Faust. " Oh, that I never had been born ! " 
 
 MepJiistopheles. " Away ! 
 You perish if you loiter now. See there ! 
 My horses are shuddering in the chilly air ; 
 The day is dawning Come ! " 
 
 Mara. " What rises from the earth ? 'Tis he ! 'Tis he ! 
 How dares he to come hither ? Drive him forth ! 
 This is a sacred place ; dares he to come 
 Hither for me ? "- 
 
 Faust. " No ; thou shalt live ! " 
 
 Marg. " Thou Judge of all ! to Thee myself I give ! " 
 Meph. " Come : or I leave you Both to perish! " 
 
 But this is a vain threat. The spirit who denies and 
 destroys has lost, for ever, his power over the soul of 
 Margaret. " She is judged ! " he exclaims, in his fierce 
 anger; but a voice from above replies, "she is saved." 
 
 Our limits will not allow us to give more of ' ' Faust " 
 than the central subject which gives meaning and interest 
 to all the wild diablerie found in other scenes of this unique 
 drama. Some passages were written in 1774; others were 
 added in 1777-80. The first part was completed in 1806. 
 The second part, begun in 1780, was completed in 1831, a 
 few months before the close of the poet's life. 
 
 During the years 1775-93, of which the literary work 
 has been briefly noticed, Goethe had for some time a con- 
 
 18 * 
 
276 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 siderable share iu the cares of government, and, in recog- 
 nition of his services, he was raised to the rank of nobility 
 in 1782. After his return from Italy (1788) his duties were 
 made light, and he undertook the superintendence of the 
 theatre at Weimar (1790). He accompanied the duke in 
 the useless campaign in France (1792), and was present at 
 the siege of Mayence in the following year. 
 
 In 1794 Goethe and Schiller were united by a bond of 
 friendship which remained unbroken until 1805. The latter 
 came to Weimar in 1787, when Goethe was travelling in 
 Italy. In the following year he gained for Schiller an 
 appointment at first, without a salary as professor of 
 history at Jena ; but the two poets, though meeting now 
 and then, remained almost strangers to each other until 
 1794, when Schiller started his literary journal, "die 
 Horen/' to which Goethe was a contributor. In 1796-97 
 they were more closely allied as writers of several series of 
 epigrams, of which the fourth the " Xenien " was satiri- 
 cal ; and some of the best of Goethe's ballads appeared 
 about the same time. Meanwhile, the didactic romance, 
 " Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahre," was completed (1796). 
 Its sequel, the " Wanderjahre," was one of his latest works. 
 In 1798, the epic-idyll "Hermann and Dorothea" appeared. 
 In this well-known poem a story of domestic interest is 
 united with events of national importance. The characters 
 are few and clearly drawn, and the ruling thought is well 
 developed. 
 
 After Schiller's death (1805) and in the time of national 
 gloom that followed 1806, Goethe, to beguile care, wrote 
 his autobiography, and the " Wahlverwandtschaf ten," a 
 romance censured for its want of reserve in describing the 
 results of unhappy matrimony. His own marriage (1806) 
 afforded him no intellectual companionship in his home. 
 Some extreme representations have been made of the con- 
 trast there existing ; but they are not founded on any con- 
 fessions made by himself. Afcer 1807 his connection with 
 the theatre was made a source of frequent annoyances. In 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 277 
 
 1816 he was left in domestic loneliness by the death of his 
 wife. His connection with the theatre came to an end in 
 the following year, when it was proposed to introduce on 
 the stage, at Weimar, a melodrama " the Dog of Aubry " 
 in which a well- trained poodle had the chief part. Goethe, 
 as superintendent of the theatre, would not give his consent 
 to the proposed innovation, and he was therefore compelled 
 to resign his office. During the years 1808-16, he pub- 
 lished several contributions to science, art and archaeology, 
 and some stories afterwards inserted in the "Wanderjahre." 
 The results of his studies in osteology and the morphology 
 of plants have been accepted as valuable ; but his " Doctrine 
 of Colours," has been generally rejected by mathematical 
 writers on optics. The "West-East Divan," a series of 
 poems introducing Oriental forms of expression, was sug- 
 gested by studies of Persian poetry. 
 
 The second part of " Faust " and the Wanderjahre " 
 as reconstructed in 1829 supplied literary occupation for 
 advanced age. Of the former, several parts must still be 
 described as riddles that wait for a solution ; but one pirt 
 is clear. Faust devotes himself to work inspired by bene- 
 volence, and thus finally escapes from his evil genius. A 
 king whom Faust has served gives him for his reward a 
 wide waste of land on the sea-shore, which he resolves to save 
 from devastation and to enrich with cultivation. It is not 
 for the sake of ambition or luxury, but for the victory of 
 industry that he labours on. In extreme old age, he battles 
 with the rude elements of nature to the last, and then 
 enjoys, in dying, a vision of future results. In the more 
 remarkable parts of the " Wanderjahre '* (" Years of Travel ") 
 we find anticipated some of the social questions of the 
 present times ; and their solution is described as taking place 
 in a kind of Utopia planned by the author. Here labour is 
 educated and organized, and old guild-laws for apprentices, 
 journeymen, and masters, are revived, with some modifications. 
 Education is made physical and industrial, as well as mental 
 and religious, and is founded on " the three reverences." 
 
278 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The first lias for its object the supernatural world ; the 
 second we are told finds expression in social relationships ; 
 and the last is shown in the presence of humiliation and 
 divine suffering as revealed in the Christian Keligion, which 
 it is said can never cease to exist. These words, and 
 others more remarkable on the same subject, are ascribed to 
 one of the three presidents of an educational institution. 
 
 The lyrical poetry written in the time of his old age has 
 for the most part a didactic tendency, and sometimes reminds 
 us that " the night cometh when no man can work." But 
 the poet still recommends the culture of art, and his motto 
 is " remember to live," even when his topics are mutability 
 and death. " His old age was, on the whole, genial and 
 cheerful; but a shade was cast over his thoughts in 1828, 
 when his friend Karl August died, and again in 1830, when 
 his only son August born in 1789 died in Italy. Not long 
 before his own death, Goethe paid a visit to Jena and its 
 neighbourhood, and so recalled to memory some of the most 
 pleasing associations of his life. He ascended the heights, 
 and thence looked forth into the free expanse of heaven ; then 
 down on the well-loved landscape. Of all the friends whom 
 in his youth he had known in those valleys, how few were 
 still living of friends older than himself only one ! " I feel 
 well here/' said he, while resting on the height, and he 
 added forgetting he was nearly eighty years old " we 
 will often come up here again ! " That promise was not 
 fulfilled. He died, at noon, 22nd March, 1832. 
 
 No attempt can be made within our limits to estimate all 
 the literary work of the life thus briefly described. Goethe 
 wrote, in verse, lyric, epic and dramatic poetry ; in prose, 
 novels and romances, biography, criticism and contributions 
 to science. His extensive correspondence supplies abundant 
 materials for a biography that some day may be made so 
 complete as to be almost unique. Among the poet's German 
 biographers may be named : Schafer, Viehoff and Godeke. 
 The "Life of Goethe" by G. H. Lewes is as popular in 
 Germany as in Eu gland. 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 279 
 
 The times in which the poet lived must be studied, it' we 
 would fairly estimate the character of his writings. He 
 lived long ; but he never forgot the tendencies of the period 
 when he was young. He did not, even in his youthful days, 
 like any notions of violent political revolution ; yet he 
 retained long some of the ideas then spread abroad by the 
 " Illuminati," and by other secret unions or societies. In 
 1780 he made himself a member of a Freemasons' Lodge 
 the Amalia Lodge, at Weimar and he always retained an 
 idea of spreading culture by means of " unions " or 
 " brotherhoods." His taste for " diablerie/' and for 
 ff mysteries/' may be partly ascribed to the influence of 
 some of his early studies. A want of due reserve in 
 writing of human passions and their results was lamentably 
 prevalent in his youthful time ; and it may still be noticed 
 in some of his later writings. One of his leading traits is a 
 love of writing so as to conceal partly his meaning, or to 
 cast over it some veil of mystery. This is especially 
 observed in the productions of his old age ; but it is found 
 also in some of his earlier poems for example, in a the 
 Mysteries," written in the year 1785. 
 
 Can Goethe's religious belief be defined by the use of any 
 concise terms ? The reply, in substance, has often been 
 this " It was a poetical form of pantheism." The vague 
 word " pantheism " is here quoted not without reluctance 
 to designate one side of the belief more or less clearly 
 expressed in his poetry. But there remains something more 
 to be said, if we would give fairly the whole truth. More 
 and more, in his later years, he became conscious of that 
 innate tendency to evil of which his " Faust " is an energetic 
 expression ; and in his old age he entertained a sentiment 
 that may perhaps be fairly described as a profound venera- 
 tion for certain ideas that are especially Christian. It is 
 true that his poems may often suggest a " worship of 
 nature ; " but what did he understand when he spoke of 
 nature as our sure guide and teacher ? The terrors, and the 
 darkness, and the mystery of the world surrounding us 
 
280 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 these were but seldom in his thoughts. He loved rather 
 to contemplate all that is quiet and regular, or beautiful and 
 beneficent in that world ; and it must not be forgotten, that 
 " nature " as understood by Goethe includes human life 
 and experience. It has often been said, ' ' he was a heathen;" 
 and there are not wanting passages of his writings that 
 might confirm such a judgment. On the other side, it has 
 been observed, that the indirect influence of his highest 
 poetry is not adverse to religion. These commonplace 
 sayings like many of their class have their use, when one 
 serves to correct the other. Such antitheses cannot, how- 
 ever, afford much aid, when our aim is to say something fair 
 and truthful of Goethe, and of the educational character of 
 his chief writings. 
 
 Earth and heaven the real and the ideal fche natural 
 and the supernatural the antithesis denoted by these 
 several forms is one belonging to antiquity and to modern 
 times, to heathenism and to Christianity. But in ancient 
 classic art and poetry that which is earthly, real, and 
 natural is predominant; in Christian art and poetry 
 aspiration toward the Divine is predominant just as the 
 pointed arch and the spire are normal in Christian archi- 
 tecture. 
 
 A similar antithesis yet net exactly the same may be 
 observed in Goethe's poetry. There are passages that may 
 be called earthly or naturalistic, and others that cannot be 
 called irreligious. The tendencies prevalent in his poems 
 are not well described by means of such terms as "heathen'' 
 and " Christian " nor indeed by any other words denoting 
 extreme opposition. Where a naturalistic tendency prevails, 
 its form of expression is mostly direct ; where a higher and 
 purer tendency prevails, the expression is often indirect. 
 It does not follow that it is ineffective. In our best English 
 poetry, some of the finest passages are indirectly religious ; 
 they lead toward reverence, though the object of the 
 reverence is not defined. They assume as existing some 
 relation of things seen to n world unseen ; some union of 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 281 
 
 the real and the ideal, the permanent and the transitory. 
 True and earnest poetry is something more than fiction ; its 
 abiding interest depends on something more than a liking 
 for amusement. In popular forms of poetry narrative and 
 dramatic when virtue at last prevails over vice, is there 
 not thus assumed, or anticipated, an idea like that which 
 religion declares to be true ? And even in tragedy, when 
 good is apparently overcome by evil is the conclusion 
 nothing better than despair? Does not the close of the 
 tragedy if true and sublime serve rather to suggest, that 
 the victory not won apparently here in this life must be 
 won there in another ? And is not this a truth revealed 
 in Christianity ? The Book of Job is poetical ; it affirms 
 no conclusive doctrine respecting the mysterious ways of 
 Providence. Yet it contains truth as well as poetry. The 
 drama even in its darkest passages indicates faith in 
 the truth : that a substance exists behind the shadows ; 
 that the whole may be clear, though some parts belonging 
 to it are dark. 
 
 It is enough, if these remarks serve to suggest our 
 belief, that religion and poetry are closely connected not 
 always by their common theme, nor always by a frequent use 
 of such words as should be held sacred but by their sugges- 
 tion or assertion of one common predominant idea the idea 
 of a union ever existing between the transitory and the per- 
 manent. This union is assumed to be true, when eternal 
 wisdom is conveyed to us by means of familiar parables. 
 
 The notion that art should be cultivated " for the sake of 
 art alone," is one that finds some apparent support in 
 certain parts of Goethe's writings. On this account it has 
 been noticed in a cursory way, and so that it may be 
 placed in contrast with a fact almost too often asserted by 
 the poet that his writings, are, in their own indirect way, 
 "educational/' He regards life with all its errors, and 
 failures and mysteries as a process of education, and 
 believes that it is controlled by an unknown Power, whose 
 designs are mostly revealed in nature and in human expe- 
 
282 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 rience. Of this one predominant idea his chief works 
 beginning with (C Faust " and ending with the " Years of 
 Travel " are special expositions. 
 
 Accepting then his own account of his general intention 
 there are two errors to be avoided. The moral or religious 
 value of his teaching whatever this may be should not be 
 underrated because the style is indirect : on the other hand, 
 his doctrine should not be accepted as true, simply on 
 account of its accordance with his own pantheistic idea of 
 religion, or with his own realistic limitations of inquiry 
 the latter not always strictly regarded by himself. He was, 
 first of all, a true poet ; and moreover was a man endowed 
 with an intellect so expansive, so sagacious in certain 
 respects only so refined that he would have been a great 
 genius, even if he had not been a poet. It is no light work 
 to estimate, in a fair and genial way, the ethic and religious 
 influence of such a man. To make the task light as far as 
 is possible personal observations will here be made sub- 
 ordinate, or will be noticed only as relating to certain 
 passages in his writings. The outcries of his enemies, and 
 the laudations of his worshippers will be left unnoticed. 
 Among his commentators rather numerous there are men 
 to whose writings one may with much profit refer, when the 
 aim is an analysis of his genius, or where an attempt is 
 made to find in his writings that comprehensive teaching 
 which as accepted by some of his disciples has been 
 called " philosophy." But no attempt will here be made to 
 analyse that philosophy. For the most part, there will be 
 noticed only facts about which hardly any dispute exists. 
 
 Whether for good or for evil, the influence of Goethe's 
 genius has spread itself widely. This influence is at once 
 aesthetic and moral to say nothing just now of its indirect 
 religious tendency. It is especially the character of the 
 poet's teaching that should be noticed the influence, 
 indirect and therefore powerful, spreading itself by means 
 of sympathy from soul to soul. To those who find a paradox 
 in the words " indirect and therefore powerful " a question 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 283 
 
 may be suggested : :Suppose for a moment, that the 
 general tendency of Sir Walter Scott's writings his poems 
 in verse and prose, but chiefly those in prose had been 
 really, though indirectly, adverse to religion would the 
 result have no importance ? Or let a like supposition be 
 allowed respecting such authors as Goldsmith, Thomson, 
 Gray, Crabbe, Coleridge, and Wordsworth. In that case 
 would their influence tell for nothing, if weighed against that 
 of the religious poets, Watts, Cowper, James Montgomery, 
 and Keble ? The questions answer themselves ; but still 
 deserve notice. They suggest the thought, that a concord- 
 ance indirect yet true may exist between literary culture 
 and religious sentiment. 
 
 There are errors that have made more difficult than it 
 should be a fair estimate of the moral and religious tenden- 
 cies ascribed to Goethe's writings. In some cases, his own 
 words have been confused with those of his critics and 
 commentators. In other cases his own words are truly 
 quoted, but without due regard to the time when they 
 were written. His religious views should be noticed as 
 belonging respectively to one of the three distinct periods 
 in his long life youth, middle life, and old age. Unfor- 
 tunately, in some cases, a polemical tone has been employed 
 in criticism where calmness is especially required. Goethe 
 was not a polemical writer ; nor was he extremely anxious 
 to make each word he uttered consistent with every other 
 word. Accordingly his forms of expression must be 
 carefully, yet not too strictly interpreted. These obser- 
 vations relate especially to the words he employed for the 
 expression of his more serious opinions respecting the 
 claims of Christianity. These may now be more distinctly 
 noticed. 
 
 His belief, as held in the years of his early manhood 
 say in the time 1776-81. may be called " pantheistic ; " or 
 may as fairly be called " rationalistic/' One term though 
 vague may indicate the sentiments suggested by his early 
 study of Spinoza's philosophy ; the other may denote his 
 
284 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 early rejection of historical Christianity. In both his early 
 and his middle life this rejection was, in its extent, not 
 unlike the unbelief of the rationalists who were so numerous 
 in his time ; yet he was not altogether a man of their school. 
 They did not like his poetry ; and he did not like their cold, 
 prosaic teaching. There are three facts that may be easily 
 established on evidences supplied by his own writings : 
 He rejected the central tenet of Christianity ; he found for 
 himself and others like himself, but "not for all men " 
 this he expressly tells us that moral and gesthetic culture 
 might serve partly as a substitute for religion; lastly, in 
 the time of his old age, he entertained feelings of venera- 
 tion for the leading ideas even for the mysteries of the 
 Christian faith. The evidences on which these assertions 
 rest may here be briefly noticed. 
 
 There is found in Goethe's correspondence one letter 
 especially remarkable as containing a distinct and emphatic 
 declaration that he rejects the truth the central tenet of 
 the Christian religion. He gives not a syllable of reasoning 
 to justify his unbelief, but asserts it as an axiom. Thus 
 he gives, in few words, the main result of all the rationalism 
 so popular in his time. He was a great man ; but when 
 writing this declaration he was in fact making himself an 
 echo of the vulgar rationalism he had learned from Basedow 
 (pp. 59, 115) and his disciples. The tone of the letter 
 addressed, by-the-by, to a faithful old friend is altogether 
 wrong, and would be so, even were the subject one not 
 demanding any especial reverence. A man's faith whatever 
 it be, if but earnest ought never to be thus rudely contra- 
 dicted. The letter referred to was addressed to Lavater as 
 a reply to an assertion of his own faith. Many a time had 
 his advice been serviceable and welcome to the young poet, 
 as was confessed in this same year (1781) when Goethe thus 
 wrote to his friend : " I am conscious of the fact you so 
 well describe ; that God and Satan Hell and Heaven are 
 [striving for the mastery] within me. Pray, breathe forth 
 a benediction upon my bust ; and, perhaps, your good influ- 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 285 
 
 ence may travel on and reach myself. You will do good to 
 many, if you do good to me/' 
 
 There exist among thoughtful readers some differences 
 of estimate respecting the importance sometimes ascribed 
 to the opinions of great men, when they speak of religion. 
 The question suggested is too large to be discussed here ; 
 yet it may be submitted that, however great a man may be, 
 his judgment can have little weight when he fails to speak 
 with calm deliberation. Now the decennium 1776-86 as 
 seen from an ethical point of view was not the most 
 correct period in Goethe's life. There is implied no bigotry, 
 when we describe as frivolous such observations as those 
 following. Two or three of the sentences most objectionable 
 are omitted. 
 
 " Your Christ [i.e. your ideal portraiture of Christ] has awakened 
 my wonder and admiration. It is glorious to see how ancient records 
 have supplied for you an outline of a person and character in which 
 you find all that your soul requires an outline, I say, of which your 
 own faith has made a complete portraiture ; so that in him you can 
 now see yourself, as in a mirror, and in fact can thus worship yourself. 
 . . . On the contrary we [i.e. we rationalists] are not the disciples 
 of any one master ; we have many teachers. We regard ourselves as 
 all sons of God, and worship him as existing in ourselves and in all 
 his children. You cannot change your creed ; but since you assert it 
 again and again, with so much pertinacity, pray allow me to remind 
 you, that we also have a faith the faith of humanity founded firmly 
 as on a rock of brass. You and all Christendom [as a sea raging 
 around that rock] may cast over it the spray of your billows ; but 
 you will never overwhelm it, and never shake it." .... [The 
 sentences following are taken from a letter written in 1782.] "I 
 would not have my views defined as antichristian ; nor would I 
 represent them as altogether unchristian [in a moral sense] but I 
 would describe both myself and my views as simply non-christian. 
 Hence you must conclude, how unwelcome to me are all such books 
 
 as your ' Pontius Pilate ' " [published in 1782] " You think 
 
 there is nothing so beautiful as the Gospel. Now among all the 
 books ancient and modern written by men to whom God has given 
 wisdom I find thousands of pages as beautiful, as useful, and as 
 indispensable for the instruction of mankind. [Remember, dear 
 brother, that my faith for myself is a matter as earnest as yours 
 can be for yourself. Were I a preacher, you would find me as 
 
286 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 zealous in defending my notion of an [intellectual] aristocracy as 
 you are now in asserting your idea of Christ's monarchy. Nay ; if I 
 had to preach in defence of my own religion, you might find me even 
 less tolerant than now I find you." 
 
 The passages quoted, though they were rather hastily 
 written, give a fair account of Goethe's early unbelief. 
 These confessions, made in 1781-2, were not directly con- 
 tradicted in the writings of his later years. Christianity 
 was thus easily dismissed by means of a few words satirical 
 and contemptuous, as the context, if given in full, might 
 show. It remains true, however, that an idea so unfairly 
 treated will haunt the memory from which it has been 
 intentionally expelled. There was something better than 
 this to be said of Christianity; and Goethe, in his later 
 years, was compelled to say it. Then when his mind and 
 soul were expanded, when the eye, dim for the shows of life, 
 could see more of the future when care for humanity was 
 more serious when coming difficulties of society were fore- 
 boded ; then he remembered and named with reverence the 
 faith too proudly rejected in his earlier years. 
 
 It has been intimated, that the poet's first ten years in 
 Weimar (1775-85) belonged especially to a time when free- 
 dom as regards social institutions and manners was not 
 strictly denned as distinct from license. So much has been 
 said unfortunately printed and published also respecting 
 those years, that it seems a relief to forget them, or to refer 
 to them briefly. In 1786-7 the poet visited Italy; his love 
 of artistic studies was greatly increased ; his style naturally 
 good was refined and made more attractive than ever, and 
 about the same time his relations toward some of his earlier 
 friends especially Lavater and Jacobi were altered. Their 
 religious notions were now treated more contemptuously. 
 In his studies of nature and art, and in his indifference 
 toward positive Christianity, the poet assumed a position 
 sometimes called " aristocratic." It might, perhaps, rather 
 more appropriately be called aesthetic, if the term is not 
 accepted in the shallow sense now too popular. 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 287 
 
 To make almost every other study subservient more or less 
 to his own artistic culture this was one of the poet's 
 highest aims. He found, for example, a subject for art in 
 the character of a pietistic lady Fraulein von Klettenberg 
 and made her portraiture so life-like, that her sentiments 
 have sometimes been quoted as if they were his own. But 
 the poet has corrected the error. " Her sentiments " he 
 says " arose from a confusion of the subjective with the 
 objective ; " that is to say, they were dreams in the day- 
 time. This fragment of so-called " religious philosophy " 
 would not be worth notice, did it not serve to point to 
 careless quotation, as a cause of numerous errors. We 
 advert chiefly to errors respecting some of Goethe's sayings, 
 as published by himself, or reported by others. "Where did 
 he say it? When ? To whom ? Speaking for himself? 
 Or in some dramatic way ? These are the questions by 
 which so-called quotations should be tested. 
 
 By means of careless quotation, it is easy to ascribe to 
 Goethe opinions and even articles of faith that he never 
 accepted. One example not imaginary may be given. 
 A genial critic, Gelzer when ascribing to Goethe the 
 following words, observes truly that, "as coming from 
 him, they must excite surprise " : 
 
 " The Christian Religion often enough dismembered and 
 scattered here and there must at last be found collected 
 and restored to union by the Cross." 
 
 It is true, these words are found in the " Years of Travel " 
 near the end of the first book but are they the words of 
 Goethe, speaking in his own person ? A reference to the 
 passage will give a clear answer. Examples of this kind 
 might be multiplied ; but enough has been said to suggest 
 caution in accepting quotations especially when their words 
 belong to passages more or less dramatic and imaginative. 
 A poet's teaching must always be more or less indirect. 
 How far may he deviate from the way of direct moral teach- 
 ing ? This difficult question meets us when Goethe's chief 
 works in prose-fiction are noticed. 
 
288 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The time 1787-1809 may be described as the middle 
 period of the poet's life ; it was the time in which his 
 best literary works were produced : " Iphigenia " (1787), 
 "Egmont" (1788), "Torquata Tasso" (1790), "Faust," 
 Part I (" a fragment/' 1790), the same (complete, 1818), 
 " Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahre" (1795-6), " Hermann und 
 Dorothea" (1798), "die Wahlverwandtschaften " (1809), 
 and several fine lyrical poems. The two works of prose- 
 fiction here named might suggest a vexed question, often 
 yet vainly discussed, respecting the moral tendencies of 
 novels and romances. Their teaching must in accordance 
 with the rules of art be indirect, dramatic, or at any rate 
 imaginative ; not directly didactic. The lights and the 
 shades of real life are in fiction displayed, sometimes in bold 
 contrast ; sometimes in a blending of hues that seem mutu- 
 ally complementary and harmonious. That which in whole- 
 some didactic prose is simply " wrong," is in fiction made 
 too often wickedly attractive ; and the punishment due for 
 transgression is so inflicted that sympathy with the sufferer 
 makes holiness itself seem harsh and unattractive. These 
 remarks apply especially to the novel already named as the 
 last of Goethe's prose- writings belonging to the time 1787- 
 1809. It gives, with minute and painful description, the 
 details of an unhappy marriage ; and the writer's want of 
 reserve has been justly condemned. It is granted, however, 
 that the construction of the story is artistic, and that its 
 melancholy conclusion indirectly asserts the authority of law 
 over passion. The question remains, can the end in this 
 case sanctify the means ? 
 
 ' ' Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahre " is a romance with an 
 educational tendency. The title- word " Lehrjahre " (appren- 
 ticeship) relates to certain laws for apprentices in the trade 
 companies of old times. The " Wanderjahre" (years of 
 travel) remind us of the old trade-rule, that journeymen 
 must spend some years in travelling from place to place 
 working here and there, so as to gain experience before 
 they could be admitted as masters in a trade guild. This 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 289 
 
 sequel is chiefly remarkable on account of the utilitarian 
 character of many passages. It has been said that Goethe 
 in his old age seemed to have a prevision of coming times 
 and their social problems. When contrasted with the open- 
 ing scenes in " Faust " (part I), the close of Wiihelm Meister's 
 educational course is remarkable. 
 
 The training he receives during his apprenticeship is 
 placed under the superintendence of a mysterious brother- 
 hood, whose members meet him from time to time, and 
 afford some guidance to his career. Their teaching indicates 
 the doctrine that a true education should embrace the whole 
 character of a man, and not only one or two of his talents. 
 The hero is found, however, after all the training he has 
 received, still weak and vacillating. His further education 
 is described in the " Years of Travel." Here he is taught 
 that he must not avoid the lowlier duties of life and soar 
 away to enjoy high art. He is next introduced to an educa- 
 tional and industrial Utopia where a solution is found of 
 problems still connected with property and labour, co-opera- 
 tion, the results of machinery, and plans of emigration. 
 Labour is educated and organized, while old guild laws for 
 apprentices, journeymen, and masters are revived with some 
 modifications of their details. Education is made physical as 
 well as mental and religious, and is founded on f ' reverence." 
 The future dignity of educated and co-operative labour is 
 predicted ; and a co-operative society of weavers is described 
 at great length and with many minute details. It seems 
 strange to find the author of " Faust " writing of the culture 
 of potatoes. He gives a warning against dependence for 
 food on these uncertain tubers; and it is noticeable that this 
 warning was written eighteen years before the potato famine 
 of 1847. Some of the views on art expressed in this work 
 may excite surprise. Goethe will have no theatres and no 
 players tolerated ; but vocal music is to be generally culti- 
 vated, and to be used as a means of stimulating a cheerful 
 industry. The religion of this Utopia is mysteriously 
 indicated. The Commonwealth has a strict system of police. 
 
 19 
 
290 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Taverns, like theatres, are abolished. The land is not 
 demoralized by a standing army ; but drill is an important 
 part of education, and every man is trained to fight in his 
 own defence. Neither bells nor drums are tolerated, but 
 companies of working-men are summoned to their labour by 
 the harmonious sounds of wind instruments. Lastly, a union 
 is formed for the promotion and regulation of free and 
 extensive emigration, well supported by capital, labour, and 
 good organization. 
 
 For many of Goethe's readers, the conclusion of "the 
 Wanderjahre " like that of " Faust " (part II) is a disap- 
 pointment. It looks like an industrial solution of the 
 problem suggested in the first part, the problem of man's 
 destiny ; and we are once more reminded of the sole gospel 
 preached by Carlyle "work." In order that the poet's 
 earlier thoughts of man's destiny may be compared with his 
 latest teaching, two or three quotations from " Faust " 
 (part I), may here serve to introduce some remarkable 
 passages in the " Years of Travel." 
 
 As we have seen, the poet, in the first part of " Faust," 
 has represented the duality and the consequent discontent 
 of man's nature. In the opening scene of the drama, 
 Faust, a gray professor, is seated at his desk in a gothic 
 chamber. The moon pours her light through the window. 
 He is surrounded by books, dusty parchments, and instru- 
 ments of science, on which he looks with weariness. He 
 has arrived at the stage of thought when he despairs of the 
 power of study. It is from powers of which man is 
 unconscious that all the wonders of creation proceed. 
 When contrasted with those powers, all our studies are but 
 a " vanity of vanities." Law, medicine, theology all are 
 dry abstractions, having no union with life conferring on 
 the student no power to enjoy the resources of nature. His 
 ambition is partly sensuous and egotistic. It is nothing less 
 than theurgic power, or "daemonic energy," for which he 
 is craving. That religious thought should make this finite 
 world appear as it is untrue ; that the aim of study should 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 291 
 
 be to obtain rest, not excitement; that man should rise 
 above his own nature, and subdue its passions this is not 
 Faust's belief. Such philosophy is for him a realm of 
 shadows. He would explore, he says, " the fountains 
 whence flows life throughout creation/' and would refresh 
 himself in their streams. But this, he knows, is impossible. 
 He has no faith in any revelation ; and he has lost faith 
 in science. It is but " a thing of shreds and patches." 
 Despairing of ever knowing more than mere words and 
 forms, he resolves to die, rather than to live on as a useless 
 pedant. There stands near him, on one of the shelves of his 
 library, an old brown goblet an heir-loom of his family 
 in days of yore often crowned at domestic festivals. He 
 fills it with poison, and lifts it to his lips, when suddenly 
 the current of his thoughts is changed. Melodious bells 
 are pealing; and from a neighbouring church come floating 
 through the air the sounds of a choral hymn. It is Easter 
 morning, and they are singing : 
 
 " Christ has arisen 
 
 Out of death's prison. 
 Listen, all men to the call, 
 Share the joy, disciples all ; 
 Make his triumph all your own, 
 In your lives his love be shown ; 
 By your deeds his praises speak, 
 Feed the hungry, aid the weak. 
 Ever living, He is near ; 
 Ever loving, He is here." 
 
 The old associations of the time are recalled. " O 
 heavenly tones " Faust now exclaims 
 
 " Ye call me back to life again, sweet bells, 
 Ye call to mind the time when Sabbath peace 
 Fell on my spirit, like a kiss from heaven." 
 
 But the music of the peal and the hymn does not restore 
 to him the cheerful faith of his childhood. " I hear the 
 tidings/' he says, " but no longer with the ear of faith." 
 Still a mere recollection of his early belief affords a passing 
 
 19 * 
 
292 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 consolation. The old brown goblet is set aside ; and soon 
 afterwards he wanders forth into the fields, where are 
 assembled in many little parties the townspeople all come 
 out in their best array to enjoy their holiday. Faust feels 
 some little superficial pleasure while he looks upon them ; 
 but there is more of scepticism than of faith in his next 
 soliloquy : 
 
 " With joy they celebrate the day, 
 For they themselves have burst away 
 As out of prison, or from the tomb ; 
 From many a workshop's dusty gloom, 
 From many a narrow, crowded street 
 They come, each other here to greet ; 
 Or from the minster's solemn night 
 They wander forth into the light." 
 
 When evening comes on, he retires into the solitude of 
 the old gothic chamber ; and again his thoughts of despair 
 return, and take possession of his mind. As the fable tells 
 us, he is now visited by his evil genius " the spirit who 
 always denies." In truth, however, that evil genius is but 
 a symbolical expression of Faust's own discontent and 
 egotism. " Every man is tempted by himself." The evil 
 that seems to come from without comes from within. 
 Instead of the spirit who can reveal to the aspirant the 
 mysteries of life and creation, it is the demon who would 
 deny and destroy that now appears in a human form. It 
 is, indeed, the man's own worse self that arises and stands 
 before him. With a bitter sense of the duality of his own 
 existence of the contrast between his ambition and its 
 results Faust describes his whole life as a failure and 
 disappointment. He denounces all attractions that bind 
 him to life ; and utters a dreadful formula of imprecation. 
 When it is concluded, a chorus of invisible spirits utter a 
 lamentation : 
 
 "Woe, woe for thee ! a world how fair 
 Hast thou destroyed in thy despair ! 
 To the dark void the wreck we bear. 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 293 
 
 O miglity one, tkou earth-born son ! 
 In thine own soul build up, once more, 
 The world, so fair, that we deplore ! " 
 
 The reply that his evil genius gives to the lamentation is 
 very subtle. He suggests that the best way to build up a 
 new life is to renounce all philosophy and to seize such 
 sensual pleasures as the world affords. In the conversation 
 that follows, Faust more deliberately renounces all the 
 hopes of his moral and intellectual nature. The demon 
 undertakes to supply the want of them by such excitements 
 as sensual life affords. Faust denies that the fiend, by 
 means of " all the pomps and vanity of this world/' can 
 ever give satisfaction to the soul of man. " If ever/' says 
 he, " I am so charmed with any earthly pleasure that I say 
 to any present moment, ( Stay ; thou art so fair ! ' then I 
 yield myself to suffer the doom that may be inflicted upon 
 me." This is the substance of the bond between Faust and 
 his evil genius. 
 
 And how does Faust ultimately liberate himself? This 
 question is answered in the second part of the drama. The 
 despair to which vain and ambitious philosophy had led 
 him is not relieved by all the sensual attractions to which 
 for a time he surrenders himself; nor does he find repose in 
 scientific or in imaginative culture. At last, he devotes 
 himself to the work of social and industrial reformation. 
 He rescues from the ocean a waste stretching far along the 
 sea-shore ; makes it fertile ; and hopes that, in the course 
 of time, it will be crowded with the dwellings of a free and 
 prosperous people. He is now in extreme old age about 
 a hundred years old and is stricken with blindness when 
 dying he enjoys an anticipation of future results. Thus 
 he speaks of his final work : 
 
 " Freedom, like life, must be deserved by toil 
 Here men shall live, and, on this fertile soil, 
 Begirt with dangers, shall, from youth to age, 
 Their constant warfare with the ocean wage. 
 
294 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 could I see my followers ! Might I stand 
 Among free people on my own free land ! 
 To such a moment of intense delight 
 
 I'd, fearless, say O stay ! thou art so bright ! 
 Anticipating all that future bliss, 
 
 1 have it now. That moment's here ! 'Tis this ! " 
 
 So saying, the fighter with, the sea reclines upon the soil 
 which he has won from the waves, and in full contentment 
 expires. By his last words, he has if the letter of the old 
 bond holds good forfeited his soul to the foe, who is here, 
 ready to show the bond. "Here lies the body," says he, 
 " and now, if the spirit tries to escape, I meet him, at once, 
 with this document." Angels and demons contend for the 
 possession of the soul ; and Faust is saved we are told 
 in consequence of his latest industrial enterprize. Above 
 all it is considered that his motive was purely philanthropic ; 
 and he was persevering in well-doing. Endowed with ever- 
 lasting youth, he rises to heaven, while the angels who 
 attend him are singing : 
 
 " This member of our heavenly quire 
 
 Is saved from evil powers ; 
 Let evermore a soul aspire, 
 
 And we can make him ours." 
 
 Can this be the conclusion of " Faust " ? this the solution 
 of the problem proposed in the first part of the drama ? 
 As far as is possible, these questions should be answered by 
 some further quotations of the poet's own words. Possibly 
 light may be cast on the conclusion of " Faust," when it is 
 compared with some passages in the " Years of Travel " 
 those in which the author gives a description of education 
 founded on reverence. They may be found in the first and 
 second chapters of the second book. Here little more than 
 a summary is given. 
 
 Wilhelm, in the course of his travels, has surveyed the 
 spacious grounds and buildings belonging to a large educa- 
 tional institution ; and soon afterwards he is introduced to 
 one of its three governors or presidents. Intending to 
 leave his son Felix under their care, the traveller makes 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 295 
 
 some inquiry respecting their principles and plans of teach- 
 ing. "You have seen many of our youths" said the 
 president " and their bearing might possibly tell you what 
 is our first principle of education." Wilhelm fails, however, 
 to find a ready answer to the implied question. " It is 
 reverence" said the president "the first principle of 
 religion." 
 
 " Has not religion been founded on fear or say even on 
 terror ? " the traveller inquired. 
 
 " No " said the president " fear exists in too many 
 souls; reverence in few. Here no religion is recognized 
 save that which is founded on reverence." 
 
 " What then may you call your own religion ? " said 
 Wilhelm. 
 
 In reply to this question, the president goes on to speak 
 of " three religions." His remarks might be well under- 
 stood as definitions of one general sentiment reverence 
 passing through three stages of development ; but his own 
 forms of expression, though now and then unusual, are 
 retained here, as those most fairly representing Goethe's 
 sentiments. His meaning, in some of the sentences follow- 
 ing, may not fully appear ; and he may leave still remaining 
 a doubt as regards the extent of his historical belief ; but it 
 is clear that he intends to speak in the following passage 
 with profound veneration respecting the mysteries of our 
 Christian Faith : 
 
 " The third religion and the last " says the president 
 " is Christianity the last to which humanity has been 
 found capable of rising ; or might 1 rather say ? has been 
 compelled to rise." 
 
 [Men have been led up by Christ to an ideal that could 
 not have been believed to be possible without his aid.] 
 
 " To leave beneath his feet all the shows and honours of 
 this world, and to keep ever in view heaven, his birth-place 
 and home, might seem possible in a wise and good man ; 
 but to endure the utmost sorrow nay, more ; to find means 
 of a divine manifestation in his endurance of humiliation, 
 
296 
 
 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 poverty, contempt, torture, and death to lift up the vilest 
 out of their sins and miseries ; to make them capable of loving 
 holiness yea, capable of attaining sanctity these are facts 
 of which only faint indications had appeared before the 
 time of his coming to dwell with men. And such a coming 
 cannot be temporary, cannot pass away as a fact merely 
 historical. Since human nature has been elevated [in 
 Christ] to a point so high, and has been made capable 
 of rising [by his aid] to such a height, it remains for ever 
 as a point from which humanity cannot recede. The truth 
 that has been made manifest, has been incorporated, [in 
 Christ] can never disappear, and can never cease to exist/ 7 
 
 After further conversation, the visitor is led to view one 
 of the several picture-galleries belonging to the college. 
 First, he notices a series of paintings in which are repre- 
 sented some of the most significant and poetic events in the 
 history of the Jews. The visitor having noticed the omis- 
 sion of one subject expresses his surprise, and asks for an 
 explanation. " Here/' says he, " your last picture in the 
 series belongs to a date later than the Crucifixion, and 
 portrays an event that took place when 'the holy city' was 
 destroyed A.D. 70 yet nothing has been seen here remind- 
 ing me at all of One who, some years before that event, was 
 teaching in the temple. Why this omission of a subject 
 that to me seems one belonging to the national history of 
 Israel ? " 
 
 " In one sense of your words" the president replied 
 " there does exist the historical connection you have named ; 
 but not in a higher sense. The events of the life to which 
 you refer have an importance infinitely higher than anything 
 belonging to national history ; they introduce us to a new 
 religion, and lead us into a new world." 
 
 While he was speaking, folding-doors were opened, and a 
 way was seen, leading to an interior gallery of paintings. 
 Into this gallery the president now led the visitor, who felt 
 at once that he had passed, as it were, out of one world into 
 another. Nothing was seen here of the strong, energetic 
 
CHAPTEE XII. GOETHE. 297 
 
 drawing, or of the vivid and striking colours that had been 
 noticed in the paintings of the first series. Here on the 
 contrary, the general tone was softer and more subdued 
 at once more religious and more poetical while, for thought- 
 ful and sympathetic minds, the events portrayed were charged 
 with a deeper meaning, and were more attractive. For a 
 time Wilhelm remained silent, while looking upon a picture 
 representing the last supper of Christ with his disciples. 
 Then on finding that this was the last of the second series 
 he again expressed his surprise. 
 
 "Have you," said he, "no picture representing the 
 close of that life of which some leading events are here 
 portrayed ? " 
 
 " Our works of religious art " the president replied 
 " are arranged in several series, and are preserved in several 
 galleries, so that those most suitable to awaken thought in 
 students of one grade in culture especially in the highest 
 culture may be seen at one time. Those students who 
 may be called beginners are thus led to contemplate first 
 such events as, in their artistic and indirect way, may convey 
 truth applicable to the ordinary events of human experience. 
 The close of that divine life to which you have referred 
 should, we think, suggest our deepest thoughts and feelings ; 
 and respecting these we maintain some reserve. Only those 
 who are most proficient and thoughtful among our students 
 are led into the sanctuary of divine sorrow. You will visit us 
 again, at the end of a year from the present time ; and will 
 then observe how far your son has made progress under our 
 direction. Then more of our paintings will be seen; for 
 that will be the time of our solemn annual festival ; and our 
 most advanced students then about to leave us and go 
 forth into the world will be led into the sanctuary." 
 
 (i You keep then apart from these " said Wilhelm 
 " the pictures belonging to your third series ? " 
 
 " Yes " said the president " but already," he added, 
 " how much have we seen of all that is at once wonderful 
 and familiar ! The union of these traits is everywhere seen 
 
298 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 in the pictures of this second series. How much may they 
 teach to minds open and childlike like those of many 
 among our pupils. Here they are taught how He whose 
 name they chiefly reverence, raised fallen men; pardoned 
 sinners ; made the ignorant sharers in his wisdom ; enriched 
 the poor with more than earthly wealth ; cured diseases by 
 means of his touch, and thus spreading proofs of divine 
 benevolence all around him lived in the days of his 
 humiliation as a man among men. Yet he did not con- 
 ceal the truth of his divinity did not fear to assert his 
 union and equality with his Father but declared himself to 
 be God. Thus was excited, in the minds of many, wonder 
 without faith ; in the hearts of his disciples a deep and true 
 devotion ; but at the same time in other men a feeling of 
 enmity, first directed against himself, and then against his 
 followers. These he solemnly warned of the opposition they 
 would have to encounter. They must, he said, endure much 
 persecution. If they would imitate his life, they must share 
 in his sorrow. How truly has the prediction been fulfilled 
 in the experience of those who have endeavoured to follow 
 Him ! " 
 
 Here suddenly a door was opened. For a moment the 
 visitor entertained the thought that he might be led on to 
 see the pictures belonging to the third series ; but the 
 thought was an error ; the opened door showed only a 
 corridor, leading back to the entrance-hall of the several 
 galleries. The president noticing Wilhelm's look of dis- 
 appointment quietly observed, that in obedience to certain 
 rules he could not, on this occasion, show to his visitor the 
 interior gallery. 
 
 " You do possess then," said Wilhelm, " a painting like 
 that which I expected to find in this series ? " 
 
 " We do " said the president " but on all ordinary 
 occasions there remains a veil drawn over that portraiture 
 of divine suffering. We are compelled by our faith to 
 condemn as presumptuous the hand that would rashly draw 
 aside the veil ; or expose a portraiture of that agony to the 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 299 
 
 light of the sun the sun whose face was hidden when a 
 guilty world demanded that sacrifice. Here is the divine 
 depth of sorrow. To notice slightly such a subject ; to 
 speak of it rhetorically, or so as in any way to offend 
 feelings of profound reverence this is a sin to be especially 
 avoided. Of this we will, for the present, say no more. 
 You have, I trust, seen and heard so much of our routine, 
 that when you proceed on your journey you will rest assured 
 of one fact your son, Felix, is left here under the care of 
 teachers whose plan of education is religious." 
 
 Are these passages to be accepted as representing 
 Goethe's own sentiments in his later years ? For those 
 who have carefully studied his life and character, as por- 
 trayed, not in any one book nor in any scanty excerpts, but 
 in the whole range of his various writings, his extensive 
 correspondence, and his later conversations chiefly those 
 reported by Falk and Eckermann there can exist no hesita- 
 tion in giving an affirmative reply. In saying this, we are 
 speaking, not of the poet's formal or precise creed, but of his 
 most religious sentiments. It may seem easy to show that our 
 opinion is erroneous ; and it may be as easy to show that the 
 poet was " a rationalist ; " or " a pantheist ; " or " an Epicu- 
 rean sceptic/' One proposition may apparently be supported 
 as readily as another. Selected excerpts from the poet's 
 writings may in each case afford evidences such as are 
 required ; but in each case the evidence will be partial. Its 
 force will depend at last on a certain supposition one so 
 commonly accepted that it cannot without hesitation be 
 called a prejudice. It may, however, be regarded as a 
 prejudice, when it is made the basis of an inquiry that, first 
 of all, should be one respecting facts. It is understood as 
 an axiom, that every man writing or speaking seriously, 
 and on any point relating to his own sentiments should 
 endeavour to preserve consistency. The rule applies with 
 especial force to every great author at least to such of 
 his writings as are didactic it should therefore apply to 
 Goethe. In this conclusion the logic seems good; but it is 
 
300 
 
 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 logic for which Goethe cared little. This should be remem- 
 bered by critics. They have first to notice facts ; and then 
 should let their own reasonings follow. Hardly any facts 
 can be clearer than these : that Goethe, in his early man- 
 hood, rejected historical Christianity ; that, in his middle 
 life, he often wrote of culture artistic and moral as if he 
 would make it a substitute for religion ; and thirdly that, in 
 his later years, he spoke with reverence of Christian facts 
 and doctrines, including those sometimes called " mysteries." 
 The evidences relating to the third of these assertions 
 ought to be well-known by everyone who would arrive 
 at a fair conclusion respecting the poet's religious senti- 
 ments. His genius was so far expansive ; his sympathies 
 were so far refined, that he could see the beauty, and could 
 feel the force nay, could know the truth of a religion 
 which he did not in all respects accept as his own. 
 Religious sentiment is good the days may come when 
 men will seek for it, as for a lost treasure yet between senti- 
 ment and faith there lies a deep gulf. No assertion is made 
 here respecting the poet's faith ; and on the other hand no 
 assertion is accepted. Our chief aim is to make clear one 
 fact interesting, if not important that the faith too 
 lightly dismissed in his youth was not forgotten in his latest 
 days. May it not be suggested that, as the memory of a 
 departed friend is sometimes revived, and becomes so vivid 
 as almost " to haunt the bodily sense " so religious senti- 
 ments, more or less repelled for a time by earthly seduc- 
 tions, may wait for the quiet time of old age, and now 
 reappear, as if newly awakened in the mind ? 
 
 Goethe, in certain periods of his life, lived and talked as 
 if he would confirm the report, that tf he was a heathen 
 poet." There are facts in his life that might partly serve to 
 justify that summary definition ; but there are also facts to 
 be noticed on the other side. It would be a melancholy 
 conclusion if we could be compelled to believe that a mind 
 so sensitive and open to impressions from all things beautiful 
 could utterly reject Christianity. It is one thing to know 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 301 
 
 that our religion was rejected contemptuously by such men 
 as Friedrich II, Voltaire and La Mettrie ; it would be quite 
 another thing if we were assured that in any similar way, 
 or to any like extent it was deliberately rejected by Goethe. 
 Those who suppose that this was the case have been naturally 
 led into their error; since they have been guided by a 
 coincidence of evidences coming from two opposite parties 
 on one side the poet's idolatrous admirers ; on the other his 
 bitter opponents. In one respect only the two parties 
 agree ; each is narrow and polemical. Their two arguments 
 ending in a common conclusion, so far as they define his 
 teaching as " non-Christian " can tell us nothing true 
 respecting a man whose genius was certainly neither narrow 
 nor polemical. 
 
 From the whole of the controversy to which these remarks 
 relate we turn away not without a sense of relief. Lastly 
 there must be given, in the form of a summary, some 
 analytical account of Goethe's genius; and here must be 
 especially noticed the traits that may be called peculiar. 
 Here and there brief quotations from his writings may serve 
 to illustrate our observations. The first general fact to be 
 noticed is the comprehensive character of the poet's mind. 
 A man of true poetic genius must have some claim to 
 respect ; but his defects of general intelligence may be as 
 noticeable as his genius. On the contrary, the range of 
 Goethe's mind was so extensive, that comparatively little is 
 said of him when it is merely said that he was a great poet. 
 He was certainly first of all a poet, and one belonging to no 
 ordinary class. Certain French critics have found out that 
 he " really was not a great poet " that is to say, not a 
 great poet in their own sense of the term but their opinion 
 hardly deserves any further notice. 
 
 Poetic genius, as possessed by Goethe, was nature. His 
 inspiration visited him, and for certain seasons dwelt with 
 him, just as the thoughts and feelings inspired by nature 
 dwell in the heart of a child. When eighty years old, he 
 received from certain friends a present consisting mostly of 
 
302 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 artistic bijouterie. " They treat me very kindly " said he, 
 while arranging on a table the several <l gems " or trinkets 
 " they know what I like." " They know what you are 
 a child," said his daughter-in-law, then acting as his house- 
 keeper. Her words expressed a truth beyond the range of 
 her own intention. The old man was not a child because he 
 loved works of art. Still, however, he remained a child to 
 whom art was nature, and nature was art. Of his poetry 
 hardly anything has been said better than these few words 
 written by Falk one of his personal friends " His poetry 
 was identified with himself. In dream-like contemplation, 
 his mind was transmuted into a perfect likeness to the 
 object contemplated." " Of modern poets Goethe is at 
 once the most subjective and the most objective." This 
 saying often repeated may be objectionable as regards its 
 paradoxical form; but at the same time it is true. The 
 poet, in receiving impressions from nature, imbues them 
 with his own feelings. Hence the result is subjective, and 
 some elements merely accidental or individual are mingled 
 with the poetry. These are cleared away, and now the 
 result is objective poetry that awakens common sympathy. 
 The following impromptu, written in 1789, may illustrate 
 our meaning : 
 
 " Hush'd now is every bird's sweet lay 
 
 In the day's calm close ; 
 The trees are all asleep ; how still 
 
 Is the light green leaf on the topmost spray ! 
 And, list as you will, you hear not a trill 
 
 In the woodland lone. 
 O wait, my soul ! and soon, repose 
 Like this will be your own." 
 
 Is it the poet's own feeling, or a sentiment breathed 
 forth, as it were, out of the woodland, that is here ex- 
 pressed ? " The poet's feeling, of course," says a scientific 
 and prosaic critic ; ' ' there can be no feeling in the wood- 
 land." This is exact science ; and by way of contrast 
 it makes clear the nature of poetry. The poet knows 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 30'3 
 
 nothing of that hard and fast line so firmly drawn between 
 nature and the mind. All living creatures around him are 
 at rest. As they belong to nature, so does the poet. He 
 feels that the eventide quietude soothes his heart ; and 
 hopes that soon he shall share more largely in that deep 
 repose. Poetry of the purest type knows nothing of the 
 divisions denoted by such contrasted terms as subjective 
 and objective, finite and infinite, material and spiritual. 
 For the poet outward things are all words inspired by one 
 mind ; all nature lives, thinks, and feels with him ; stars, 
 rivers, flowers, trees even rocks and old ruins have their 
 thoughts and feelings, which at the same time are the poet's 
 own. " He finds," says Goethe, " a brotherhood of creatures 
 like himself in the still and silent wood, the water, and the 
 air." The same feeling is often expressed by Wordsworth. 
 The idea of which poetry is an expression has led many 
 men of a meditative temperament into mysticism. "Can 
 the speculative idea be altogether false," says Steffens, 
 a poetical though scientific man " the idea that in 
 poetry of the highest class is always supposed to be true, 
 at least so long as our serious interest in the poetry 
 remains ? " It is clear that such a study of poetry as is 
 suggested by this question might lead to mysticism. It 
 is not equally clear, that the study of poetry may indirectly 
 serve as an introduction to sober religious inquiry; yet 
 there is no good reason for doubting the fact. It is not 
 incapable of explanation when we consider how poetry must 
 first be read or heard, in order to be enjoyed. It is de- 
 manded that the reader shall for a time assume a habitude 
 of mind comparatively passive, and be capable of giving a 
 quiet and continuous attention, either to the development 
 of a story, or to the evolution of a sentiment, as the case 
 may be. Sustained attention, or contemplation this is the 
 habitude of mind demanded. But this is the opposite of 
 reasoning, which requires such processes as dividing, com- 
 paring and differing. The intellectual life of modern days 
 consists in too large a proportion of mere reasonings, that 
 
304 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 in the end amount to nothing more than exercises of the 
 understanding. The study of natural history, or even of 
 physical geography in fact, almost any study that may 
 lead us out of ourselves may have the healthful influence that 
 has sometimes been ascribed to the study of true poetry. 
 Little more can be said here of Goethe's poetry; but one 
 fact is not to be forgotten. That " wise passiveness " 
 which we have noticed in his relation to nature, was a 
 habitude of mind continued also when his studies were the 
 characters of men and women, as developed in social life. 
 
 Here we turn to consider next the range of the poet's 
 studies. It was indeed wide on the whole; yet in some 
 directions rather closely limited. Among the limitations 
 observed in Goethe's range of studies some were prescribed 
 by a habitude of mind for which we can hardly find a 
 familiar term. It might be called a love of delitescence. 
 "In this great world/' he said, on one occasion, "it is 
 to make a little world for one's self." Accordingly, he 
 made it a rule to avoid matters especially if painful or 
 troublesome that could not afford aid in his self-culture. 
 One of his favourite words " Behagen " often used to 
 denote his own satisfaction, has a meaning hardly more 
 sublime than that belonging to our own word "comfort." 
 His love of quietude not idleness has been called 
 "egotism," and has moreover sometimes been confused 
 with selfishness of the ordinary type. This is an error, 
 and has led to another on the opposite side, for in 
 defending Goethe, his friends have said rather too much 
 of certain kind actions that, for one in his easy circum- 
 stances, were hardly proofs of heroism. As regards his 
 expenditure in acts of beneficence, there is really little that 
 is remarkable to be said. 
 
 In his psychological observation of human characters 
 those lying within a certain range the poet excelled ; above 
 all, when he was led to notice the minor traits and finer 
 shades of sentiment. Examples may be found almost any- 
 where in his chief works of prose-fiction. Of the sentences 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 305 
 
 quoted below, several have been selected from a novel of 
 which the general tendency has been censured : 
 
 " Every sign of politeness indicates a substance a true feeling in 
 which the sign had its origin. A good education should show how the 
 sign and the substance the inner and the outer are united. There 
 is a politeness of the heart ; and this is nearly related to love. Hence 
 flows the true grace of exterior courtesy. It is easy to act in concert 
 with our feelings ; hard to obey strict rules, however good. We 
 practice virtue consciously and with effort; but we transgress un- 
 awares and easily. Hence our virtues yield us little pleasure, while 
 our faults often repeated cause much annoyance. When we look 
 to other men, hoping they will give us moral aid, they leave us to help 
 ourselves. Voluntary dependence is a happy way of living ; but is 
 not possible without love. Nobody is more a slave than the man 
 who asserts his freedom, when he is not free. His own assertion 
 reminds him that he is dependent. Let him willingly admit his 
 dependence ; and he will feel himself free. Intellectual freedom and 
 ' enlightenment,' if left without the aid of moral self-control, will only 
 make a man more dangerous.- There is but one feeling love in some 
 degree that can save us from envy, when this might be excited by 
 the presence of a superior man. When estimated by his own valet, 
 the great man is not a hero. This however shows nothing more than 
 the fact, that the valet is not a hero [This saying, commonly ascribed 
 to Goethe, has been ascribed also to Hegel]. Men who, for the rest of 
 their lives, are utterly worldly regard religion as something that may 
 be useful in a time of misfortune. In their estimation, truth itself can 
 serve only as an occasional dose of medicine. After all our reasonings, 
 we are guided by the sentiment most prevalent in our heart. Let us 
 first be careful that we have a disposition to know the truth ; then right 
 thoughts will be sure to follow. What is holy? That which unites 
 many souls as one, though it bind them but lightly, as a rush binds 
 a garland. What is holiest? That which more and more deeply 
 felt more and more closely unites the souls of men." 
 
 As briefly as possible would we pass over personal details 
 relating to Goethe's practical notions of morals, especially 
 those most closely connected with the highest interests o 
 society. At Weimar, in the last quarter of the eighteenth 
 century, the notion of making culture a substitute for 
 morality prevailed so far, that the results were injurious to 
 the characters of both men and women. The facts too 
 well-known to which we but slightly allude, are partly 
 
 20 
 
306 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 reflected in Goethe's writings especially in the novel 
 describing the results of an unhappy marriage, and strangely 
 entitled " Wahlverwandtschaften " (Elective Affinities). 
 For its want of a proper reserve, it has been justly censured, 
 though the author declared that, when writing it, his 
 intention was to defend the institution of marriage. The 
 suffering following guilt is described so that pity must be 
 excited. " But this pity " says Glelzer, a truthful yet 
 lenient critic " may too probably lead to rebellious feeling 
 against the moral order by whose authority the suffering 
 has been justly inflicted. How much better might the 
 result have been, had the guilty passion been suppressed as 
 soon as its existence was known ! Then victory would have 
 followed a voluntary sacrifice, and the author whose poetry 
 has sometimes made attractive that which leads to evil 
 might have employed his genius to make a moral victory 
 glorious/' 
 
 The next point to be noticed is the vexed question 
 already mooted respecting the poet's religious sentiments. 
 The word " sentiments " is here used advisedly. Strictly 
 speaking, he had no system in his thoughts and impressions 
 concerning religion. It was a topic, however, on which he 
 often conversed ; and it is interesting to know something of 
 the more serious thoughts to which he was led in the later 
 years of his life. Especially we would notice the following 
 two questions : Do his latest expressions, relating to 
 religion, accord altogether with his early and almost scorn- 
 ful rejection of historical Christianity ? Or do they rather 
 tend to support our opinion, that the passages we have 
 quoted from his a Years of Travel " may be accepted as 
 confessions of his own sentiments ? In favour of the latter 
 conclusion there remain a few facts to be noticed. 
 
 Sentiments may be true, though they have neither the 
 firmness nor the clear definition of a positive faith ; and 
 they may be sincere, though they are not always expressed 
 with much care to maintain a rigid consistency as regards 
 their several forms of expression. In many instances, the 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 307 
 
 poet's observations on religious topics were occasional. He 
 spoke earnestly at times ; but often so as merely to indicate 
 the character of his impressions not to assert any fixed 
 opinions. Health, poetic genius, and good temper these 
 were the chief elements of his own happiness ; and they 
 suggested the optimistic tone of his natural religion, some- 
 times called ' e pantheism " of which he could give no clear 
 definition. He had at all times an intuitive belief in the 
 supernatural, and could support it so he thought by 
 reference to several passages in his own experience. He 
 believed in the immortality of the soul ; " because nature/' 
 he said, " wastes no power." Accordingly, when his friend 
 Wieland died eighty years old the poet consoled himself 
 by thinking, that a man so industrious would never cease to 
 act somewhere and in some way. It might have been 
 objected, that the deceased author had said all that he had 
 to say and considerably more ; for he was a great borrower 
 from the works of other authors. 
 
 Many of the best remarks made by Goethe were such as 
 were accidentally elicited in the course of conversation with 
 his friends. On many occasions his own impressions were 
 freely communicated; but he could, when he chose, main- 
 tain a strict reserve, and when queries respecting his 
 religious views were too intrusive as he thought he could 
 reply in a way that might be called evasive. An instance 
 of this kind may be noticed here. 
 
 One of the truest of the poet's friends, in the time of 
 his youth was Leopold von Stolberg, of whom some 
 account has been given (pp. 124-6). He died in 1819> 
 and some years later his sister Augusta wrote to Goethe a 
 letter containing the following passages : 
 
 "Lately I have been reading over again your letters addressed to 
 us, years ago, when my departed brother and myself enjoyed the 
 happiness of your friendship. Reading them Las recalled to mind the 
 days of our youth, and the thought has been suggested : Must ail the 
 good sentiments of that time fall like the blossoms of Spring ; and 
 must no fruit-^-no good result follow ? . . . . Then I have thought 
 
 20 * 
 
308 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 of writing to you once more, and having resolved to do so I find, in 
 the last of your letters, some words that may serve as an excuse for 
 my writing. You say in one passage ' Save me from myself.' 
 Surely, no power of rendering any such service could ever be mine. 
 But pardon me, dear Goethe, if I am assuming too great a liberty 
 when I pray that you will save yourself. Let me implore you to 
 cast away all that is worldly, little and vain ; and turn with your 
 whole heart and mind toward that which is heavenly and eternal. 
 Much has been given you ; great talents have been entrusted to your 
 stewardship. How have I been grieved to find in some of your 
 writings tendencies that may lead men astray. Oh, make this good, 
 while yet it is day ; while you can still work. Pray for divine aid, 
 and it will be given. Pardon me for writing so freely. My thoughts 
 now are all of the future [of soon again meeting friends departed]. I 
 could not die peacefully if I neglected the duty of opening my heart 
 to you the friend of my youth. I should like to carry with me 
 a hope of meeting you again there. Do not reject the prayer of 
 one to whom in bygone years you addressed such words as 'my 
 friend,' and ' my sister.' I shall still pray for you. . . . My Saviour is 
 yours." 
 
 The pious lady wrote that letter in October 1822. The 
 poet's reply written in April 1823 is remarkable as an 
 example of his reserve one of the leading traits in Ms 
 character, and one most noticeable as regards both politics 
 and religion. On certain occasions, and in relation to 
 certain topics, it was his wish that bis friends should write 
 and speak in accordance with Ms own habit of reserve. He 
 writes thus to tbe sister of Ms early friend : 
 
 " To live long is to outlive much of our early experience ; indeed we 
 outlive ourselves. Time robs us of much that was once called our 
 own. Yet the loss may be sustained without excessive grief, if we 
 always keep in view that which does not pass away. For myself and 
 for others, my chief intention through all my life has been honest ; 
 and in the midst of the things called earthly, I have endeavoured to 
 keep in view our highest aim in life. And you and yours have doubt- 
 less done the same. So let us go on working while yet it is day with 
 us. Others will follow, and will also enjoy for a time the light of the 
 sun, when for us a light still clearer will be shining. Let us then go 
 on not caring too anxiously for the future. In our Father's kingdom 
 there are many provinces ; and since he has given us here so fair a 
 
CHAPTEE XIT. GOETHE. 809 
 
 dwelling, lie will doubtless take good care of us both in our future 
 state of existence. There perhaps we shall understand each other 
 better ; and therefore shall love each other more. 
 
 " I have some fear lest my reply should offend you. I remember 
 how once without intention I offended your late dear brother, when 
 I addressed to him a letter that, in its general purport, was not unlike 
 this now addressed to yourself. However, this letter shall be sent, if 
 it be only to assure you that I am convalescent. The illness through 
 which I have lately passed has been dangerous ; but now I feel myself 
 again returning to life. Once more the Almighty allows me to behold 
 the light of his sun. May we all, at last, find ourselves re-united in 
 the embrace of our all-loving Father ! " 
 
 Evidence as various as that already noticed makes it 
 seem difficult to come to any general conclusion respecting 
 Goethe's views of religion. He did not like close defini- 
 tions; nor any such dilemmas as are introduced by the 
 terms " either . . . or." It was not his intention to write 
 so as to make clear his belief as one that ought to be 
 received or could be understood by "all men." On the 
 contrary, his writings were intended so he tells us to be 
 acceptable only to some few readers whose characters were 
 more or less like his own. 
 
 Education and religion should alike be founded on 
 reverence. This is perhaps the best summary of Goethe's 
 highest teaching. In his far-advanced years, he often 
 spoke of the Christian faith in reverential terms not 
 accordant with the tone of his early rejection and it is 
 noticeable that he spoke also with reverence of certain 
 tenets called ' ' mysteries." 
 
 " I am " said he, on one occasion " no admirer of 
 ' popular philosophy/ There are found, in philosophy as 
 well as in religion, mysteries of which no exposition should be 
 intruded on the people. They should not be invited to study 
 deep truths; nor should they be taught to deride everything 
 
 that they cannot understand There is prevalent in 
 
 our day an erroneous tendency, of which the ultimate results 
 are not yet seen it is the main tendency of f popular 
 philosophy.' The mysteries of faith are submitted to the 
 
310 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 scrutiny of the understanding ; and all that it cannot com- 
 prehend is rejected as false Thus you will nowadays 
 
 often enough find a man intelligent in his way, yet coarse 
 and ignorant to a degree, who will pour out his contempt 
 on tenets that would have been named with reverence by 
 such men as Kant and Jacobi This ( popular philo- 
 sophy ' will lead to no good Let the precepts that 
 
 all should obey be made clear; and let mysteries be 
 
 reserved as under a veil of reverence Let them no 
 
 more be made the butt of vulgar ridicule/'* 
 
 Some doubts have been suggested respecting the exact 
 correctness of Talk, from whose reports of conversations 
 with Goethe the above passages are quoted. There will 
 remain no doubt respecting their substantial truthfulness, 
 when they are compared with other evidence having the 
 same purport. It is indeed probable that Falk has here and 
 there expanded some of the remarks really made by Goethe. 
 Thus some suspicion of fictitious enlargement might be 
 excited by the account given of the poet's demonology; 
 or by that of his monadology. The latter especially seems 
 too much elaborated ; but there can be no reason for doubt- 
 ing the main facts stated in these reports. The poet's own 
 doctrine of monads was one mostly like that here asserted ; 
 and his belief in " demonic influence '* is too well-known to 
 require any further proof. Of course it is understood, that 
 the word " demonic,'* when Goethe made use of it, had for 
 the most part its older and larger meaning [Balficov = Lat. 
 genius] . 
 
 Beverential views of Christianity were expressed by the 
 poet, not now and then only, but often in his later years. 
 This is a fact that does not rest on the veracity of Falk, or 
 any other individual, but may be established by evidences 
 too numerous to be formally cited here. These brief 
 examples may however be given : 
 
 " The highest praise is due to Christianity, whose pure and noble 
 
 * Johannes D. Falk, " Goethe aus naherem personlichem Umgange 
 dargestellt ; " S. 82 u. s. w. 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 311 
 
 origin is made evident by its power of self-restoration. Again and 
 again, after times of depression consequences of human error this 
 religion reappears in such institutions as missions and fraternities ; 
 and thus again makes manifest its own true character, while affording 
 
 the spiritual aid that society requires We know not how low 
 
 mankind if left without that aid might descend in their irreligious 
 
 egotism The Christian Religion has strength in itself. From 
 
 age to age that strength has been exerted, to lift up fallen and suffering 
 humanity. With such facts as it has on its side, this religion cannot 
 require the aid of philosophy ; but must hold an independent and 
 sublime position one far above all philosophy." 
 
 If again a question arise respecting any more definite 
 affirmation of belief, the reply must be one that can be 
 confirmed by the poet's own words. It should, however, be 
 always remembered, that his words are not often precise 
 when he is speaking of his own religious tenets. One, fact 
 is clear : he could not in his youth accept the Augustinian 
 doctrine of original sin, and the inevitable consequences of 
 that doctrine. At that time lie once had an intention of 
 becoming a member of the society of " United Brethren ;'* 
 and for some time he might be called one of their disciples. 
 Thus lie was led to study their doctrine, and moreover the- 
 opposite teaching of Pelagius. It was the latter that most 
 attracted him ; for this was in substance a doctrine almost 
 identical with his own belief, though he was not then con- 
 scious of the coincidence. On further consideration, he 
 abandoned his intention of joining the society. The reasons 
 assigned for this decision are characteristic : " On every 
 side,'' he says, ' ' I felt myself drawn back toward nature. 
 She had already appeared to me in all her glory. Then I 
 had found [among such people as were called f worldly '] 
 many friends who were excellent practical men. How could 
 I forsake them ? . . . . There was now a gulf between my 
 own views and the creed of my pious friends ; and I could 
 not remain longer in any way connected with, their society* 
 .... Yet the extent of the difference existing between us. 
 was not clearly understood until they assured me that my 
 opinions were ' Pelagian.' .... My next idea was to con- 
 
312 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 struct for myself a Christianity that might serve for my 
 own edification. It has always been my way, to turn into 
 poetry whatever is most interesting in my experience. A 
 wish to connect with a poetical story my own notions of 
 religion now led me to select for a subject the ' Wandering 
 Jew/ "* 
 
 These are but a few among many remarks that might be 
 cited to justify the conclusion already suggested (pp. 128-9) 
 that Goethe's general notion of human nature was very 
 much like the definition called Pelagian. Let the word be 
 accepted in a liberal sense ; and it will serve to denote the 
 trait most salient in his religious notions. Special objections 
 to this conclusion may be found; but they can serve only to 
 confirm the fact already noticed that he was not careful 
 always to sustain a rigid coherence in expressions of opinion. 
 He was, as we have said, well acquainted with the unhappy 
 duality of human nature; yet it does not follow that he ever 
 knew and felt, as a profound and permanent conviction, the 
 truth of St. Augustine's teaching. To thousands of intel- 
 ligent men living in the eighteenth century it was a doctrine 
 peculiarly repulsive. This fact serves to account for as 
 consequent the Pelagian notions so widely spread at that 
 time. Speaking freely or without care for theological 
 precision it may be affirmed that, for many freethinkers, 
 Pelagian error though otherwise named was the basis of 
 belief. 
 
 Goethe knew something not a little of man's nature 
 and its sinfulness ; yet not enough to lead to a belief utterly 
 opposed to that most prevalent in his time. At one time 
 he observes, that a the demonic forces in man [i.e. his 
 passions] must be strictly held under control;" on another 
 occasion he adds, tf extreme strictness tends to make a 
 man melancholy;" then follow other remarks on modera- 
 tion, that may be called Horatian rather than Christian. 
 He had not apparently such a profound conviction of sin as 
 
 * " Dichtung und Wahrheit," Th. iii, Bucli 15. 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 313 
 
 could lead him in the palmy days of rationalism and 
 optimism to accept as true anything like orthodox teaching 
 respecting man's fall and recovery. He had not such a 
 sense of man's misery as could lead him to accept any such 
 notions as already (in 1814) were entertained by his friend 
 Schopenhauer notions that soon led the latter to accept as 
 true the chief tenet of primitive Buddhism. In matters of 
 faith, the height and security of the superstructure must be 
 proportionate with the depth and strength of the founda- 
 tion. There is a faith that arises out of despair. Now 
 Goethe was a man capable of deep thoughts ; but he did not 
 always follow in the way toward which they were leading 
 him. He loved chiefly all that was gentle, beautiful and 
 refined in the Gospels ; and was never tired of praising the 
 parables. There are passages in his poetry where his 
 meaning may be accepted by certain readers as pantheistic ; 
 and by others as Christian. That nature as seen all 
 around us was created good and holy ; and was intended 
 to reflect the Creator's likeness ; that the same may be said 
 of human nature ; and that traces of the original idea may 
 still be seen in the world we live in, and in our own life in 
 the innocence and docility of childhood, the amiability of 
 youth, and the quietude of domestic life all these were 
 tenets cheerfully accepted in his naturalistic and poetical 
 religion. He liked to view everything moral or religious, 
 just as he would view a flower, or any other beautiful 
 production of nature; and he found in Christian history and 
 doctrine not a little that he could accept as divinely human. 
 Accordingly, the parables narrated in the Gospels are well 
 described in his words ' ' natural, human, and familiar ; but 
 also divine." 
 
 But less welcome was the thought, against which he could 
 not securely "fortify" his mind, that a principle, dark, 
 mysterious and rebellious, has intruded itself into this 
 universe ; once a temple consecrated to the worship of God. 
 The term " fortify" is one often employed by himself; he 
 would sometimes recommend that peace of mind should be 
 
314 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 guarded by certain limitations which he called "lines of 
 fortification." Much more might be said of his habit of 
 reserve or rather of his suppression of unwelcome thoughts, 
 even when they were suggested by unquestioned facts. He 
 wrote much, and often talked freely ; yet he seldom 
 expressed his deepest thoughts. He did not allow them to 
 lead him into inquiries too difficult. This habit of mind led 
 to his comparatively slight notice of many questions called 
 metaphysical; and it led also to a partial suppression of 
 certain inquiries called religious. He could not make 
 himself a " rationalist " of the extreme school ; he knew too 
 much of the problem proposed in the opening of " Faust/' 
 
 How far was he led toward faith by his study of the 
 problem? So far as that poem the end of Part II is 
 accepted as evidence, or, to use own word, as a "confession" 
 of his belief ; so far the question has been answered. Every 
 man must be saved, he says, by his own faithful and 
 persevering endeavour to do good; especially by the 
 general beneficence of his life. This answer to the question 
 of man's destiny is good so far as it goes ; but is it com- 
 plete and satisfactory ? 
 
 Whatever may have been its extent, the poet's rejection 
 or neglect of Christianity has sometimes been described in 
 terms too general. He recognized in the ethics of the 
 Gospels a teaching that might be called divine. The 
 doctrine that he especially rejected is that often called 
 Augustinian; and his rejection was as he supposed 
 justified by his experience, and his knowledge of human 
 nature. The denial expressed so boldly in the letter 
 addressed to Lavater (in 1781) was subsequently mode- 
 rated, so far as regards its tone. One question still remains 
 to be noticed. Was Goethe's denial in 1781 an echo of the 
 negation then prevalent ? Or was it the expression of his 
 own conviction after deliberate inquiry ? 
 
 It may be objected, that his judgment of Christian evi- 
 dences could have but little value in cases requiring special 
 learning. There is however one class of evidences to which 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 315 
 
 the objection does not apply. It is not learning, but the 
 divinatory insight of genius that is required to recognize as 
 true and unique a portraiture of which the lines are drawn 
 by several hands. In estimating the value of certain internal 
 evidences those observed in the undesigned yet coincident 
 traits of several writers a man of .poetic genius will pro- 
 bably have some facility, at least in one case, when the 
 coincident traits belong to the portraiture of a single 
 character ; and especially when the expansion of ideas and 
 sympathies is extraordinary. There is no evidence to 
 show that Goethe ever made any elaborate inquiry of the 
 kind here suggested. Little that is definite is told of the 
 reasonings by which he was led to the negation expressed 
 in 1781. The commonplace argument against miracles 
 might have some weight with him ; but he knew that one 
 miracle remains intact the world has been overcome ; and 
 the religion in question has been accepted as the faith of 
 many millions. He knew that such great results cannot be 
 fairly ascribed to any ordinary causes. Moreover, he has 
 indirectly confessed that his own convictions led him, in his 
 later years, near to a confession of the truth. His expressions 
 of reverence are as deep and sincere, as are his sentiments 
 of admiration elicited by Christ's own teaching ; but these 
 however true cannot supply the place of a direct reply, 
 when the question is one relating to belief and submission. 
 Were such neutrality possible or allowable, there might be 
 found in reserve some proof of caution ; or prudence might 
 recommend that a direct reply should be indefinitely post- 
 poned. Thus between faith and unbelief an intermediate 
 position might be occupied. But it would be not unlike 
 that chosen by one who places himself midway between two 
 hostile lines, both advancing toward their final contest. To 
 hold such a position is impossible. In a time of peace there 
 is granted an extension of freedom that cannot be allowed 
 in the time of warfare. Nothing contained in the four 
 Gospels is made more prominent than the sole alternative of 
 confession or denial. 
 
316 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Already a considerable space has been required in order 
 that the truth respecting the influence of Goethe's writings 
 might on both sides be fairly represented. Sentiments not 
 often openly pronounced, or sharply defined, but mostly 
 expressed indirectly, cannot be correctly reproduced in the 
 shape of a few dogmatic words made popular only because 
 they are one-sided. There must be left open some questions 
 that cannot here be discussed. One may be briefly noticed: 
 Could such men as Goethe and Schiller be controlled by the 
 spirit of their age ? There should be no hesitation in giving 
 an affirmative reply. It was a time of great power how- 
 ever exerted ; for good or for evil. Influence moral, 
 social, and intellectual then spread itself, as with the speed 
 of an epidemic ; and the results are seen everywhere in 
 philosophy and philanthropy; in poetry and music, as we 
 are reminded by the names of Haydn and Mozart; in 
 educational plans, including one for returning to ' ' a state of 
 nature ;" in the study of occult sciences and mystic theories; 
 in the order of the " Illuminati," and other secret societies ; 
 in schemes of all kinds often fraudulent not forgetting 
 certain "Rosicrucian mysteries," that never existed. 
 Rationalism was the negative movement of the time ; but 
 had a supposed positive aim, which was to sweep away 
 religion, that something vague, described as " humanitarian," 
 might take its place. That age knew everything, excepting 
 that which ought to be known. Our authority for this con- 
 clusion may be given in the shape of a final quotation from 
 Goethe's own writings : they contain nothing more valuable 
 than the following words : 
 
 1 ' There is one thing that no man brings with him into the 
 world ; yet this is- the principle on which all depends, if he 
 would develop himself on all sides, and so make himself 
 truly a man. . . . What is the principle ? Reverence. . . . 
 Unwillingly does a man yield himself to the influence of this 
 feeling. It is a higher sense that must be conferred on his 
 nature; though in some few favoured men it seems to 
 develop itself as it were naturally. Men so endowed 
 
CHAPTER XII. GOETHE. 317 
 
 [and having the power of awakening the feeling in others] 
 have in all ages been esteemed as saints, or even as gods. 
 . . . In reverence consists the dignity, the essential 
 character of genuine religion."* 
 
 This passage is a protest against the spirit of the time 
 when Goethe and Schiller received that education which is 
 never forgotten. It was an irreverent and intolerant spirit 
 that was then dominant especially during the period of 
 Schiller's poetic career. Though naturally a proud man, he 
 was often led by others, when he supposed himself to be 
 walking alone. It was not his better genius that led him 
 away from poetry and religion into rationalism. Near the 
 close of his life, he confessed indirectly, that he did not like 
 the change. How could he, or his many-minded friend, 
 like that drear {{ illumined world " of their time ' ' a land 
 of darkness, and of the shadow of death ; without any order, 
 and where the light is as darkness ?" How could they two 
 genuine poets lend the aid of their genius, in any way or 
 to any extent, to make dim the brightest ideal light that 
 ever shone in this world ? 
 
 The question is one that cannot be readily answered. 
 The fact, however, remains ; in their neglect of Christianity 
 they were more or less controlled by the general tendency 
 of their age. For them religion was not a subject to which 
 their studious hours were chiefly devoted. They found their 
 most pleasant occupation in the discussion of questions 
 belonging to aesthetic-ethic culture a study to which 
 Schiller especially ascribed much importance. To support 
 these general conclusions, we refer to the whole of their 
 correspondence during the decennium 1794-1804. 
 
 * "TVanderjahre;" Buch ii, Cap. I. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SCHILLER. 
 
 IN the intellectual and ethical character of Goethe, ex- 
 pansion, variety, and comprehensive sympathy are we 
 might almost say excessive. In Schiller's mind the height 
 is more remarkable than the expanse. In Goethe's best 
 poems art and nature, thought and its symbol, are united, 
 fused and welded together. In Schiller's poetry we find 
 division. There is a visible strife between the thought and 
 its symbol. The idea seems to be discontented with its 
 incorporation, and endeavours, again and again, to assert 
 itself in an abstract form. The poet first fixes his attention 
 on some noble thought, and then proceeds to find imagery 
 for its expression ; but, after all his endeavour, the thought 
 is left too often solitary or abstract, as if too pure and high 
 to be incorporated. 
 
 Schiller is not contented with his vocation as a poet. He 
 has an earnest desire to teach ; and his favourite theme is 
 freedom. He has educated himself, and now wishes to 
 spread the influence of his later convictions, and so to 
 counteract the errors encouraged by his revolutionary 
 fervour in the time of his youth. 
 
 These few words may be accepted as representing fairly 
 the moral aim most prevalent in Schiller's didactic writings. 
 His faith and perseverance were alike remarkable. Against 
 all the discouragements of his time the poet of freedom 
 maintained his own faith in opposition to error spread by 
 some " philosophers " in the eighteenth century. He held 
 that freedom could never come from without to any man or 
 to any nation. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 319 
 
 It miy be asked, did Schiller give due attention to the 
 historical fact, that the idea of freedom for all men was first 
 introduced to the world by the Christian Religion ? How- 
 ever that may be, it is clear that he had no faith in changes 
 produced by superficial politics. He was more practical than 
 some grave men who have talked derisively of his " poetical 
 dreams." His poems, the "Eleusinian Festival " and the 
 ' ' Song of the Bell " suggest a future poetry in harmony 
 with life and culture. He endeavoured to widen his own 
 sympathies when he was drawing near the close of his 
 career; and he was then most conscious of his own defects. 
 
 From his philosophical essays and letters, his poems and 
 his life, there shines out a noble ideal of a poet's mission. 
 He must not be content we are told either with dreams 
 or with so-called realities ; he must not think that his duty 
 is fulfilled by declamation against the errors of the world. 
 He must forfeit neither the real nor the ideal ; but must see 
 good in the contradiction between them, as it is the con- 
 dition of faith and activity. 
 
 Schiller was the ideal man of his time. As regards his 
 unbelief, he must be classed with the more respectable 
 rationalists. But he is the noblest man of all who belonged 
 to their school ; and he is but little indebted to their dreary 
 teaching. Its practical defects were observed by the 
 thoughtful poet, when he drew nigh to the close of his life. 
 So well is his biography known that here a brief outline 
 will suffice. 
 
 JOHANN CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH von SCHILLER was born at 
 Marbach, November 10, 1759. His father, a lieutenant in 
 the army, held an appointment as park-keeper at the Soli- 
 tude, a country-seat where the Duke of Wiirtemberg, in 
 1770, established a military academy, which, in 1775, was 
 removed to Stuttgart. In this school the young poet was 
 educated. In 1779 the duke conducted an examination of 
 the academy, when Goethe was present. For Schiller the 
 result of the examination was a disappointment. He had 
 spent about seven years at the school, and hoped soon to 
 
320 GEEMAN CULTUEE AND CHEISTIANITY. 
 
 gain liberty ; but it was thought advisable that his studies 
 should be continued during another year. In this time 
 (1780) he completed his first tragedy "The Bobbers" a 
 wild, dramatic rhapsody, revolutionary in its tendency. 
 
 After leaving the school, Schiller who had slightly 
 studied medicine gained an appointment, with a mean 
 salary, as medical assistant in one of the duke's regiments. 
 Meanwhile his play was brought out at Mannheim, and with 
 such success that he soon forgot both medicine and military 
 discipline. Without asking for leave of absence, he went 
 to Mannheim, to enjoy there the popularity of his own 
 work. For this offence he suffered a fortnight's arrest. 
 Soon afterwards, discussions on the merits of the play led 
 to some disputes on politics, and, on this occasion, the duke 
 gave orders that Schiller should write no more plays. The 
 poet believing that dramatic authorship was his vocation 
 now escaped from Stuttgart (1782) and returned to Mann- 
 heim. Here he was but coldly received by the manager 
 of the theatre. All the poet's hopes of success were 
 founded on a manuscript play ' c Fiesco" but the manager 
 disliked it. Wishing to place himself at a greater distance 
 from his former patron, Schiller now went on to Frankfort, 
 where he tried in vain to sell some manuscript poems, and 
 was left in almost destitute circumstances. He next found a 
 more obscure retreat in a village where, seated in a miserable 
 chamber, with the wind blowing through a window patched 
 with paper, he wrote some scenes of a new play. Soon after- 
 wards he availed himself of an invitation from a lady Frau 
 von Wolzogen the mother of two young men who had 
 been his fellow- students at Stuttgart. In her house he found 
 shelter during the winter of 1782-3, and here completed his 
 third drama. In 1783 he gained a small salary by his 
 services as poet to the theatre at Mannheim. His own ideal 
 theory of the drama was not realized here. Several dis- 
 agreeable circumstances led him to resign his connection 
 with the theatre ; and he was thinking of forsaking litera- 
 ture, when he received aid from a friend Korner, the 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 321 
 
 father of the young poet who fell in the war of liberation. 
 By the aid of this friend he was enabled to live and pursue 
 his studies from 1785 to 1787, when he went to Weimar. 
 At that time Goethe was travelling in Italy ; but soon after 
 his return he gained for Schiller an appointment as professor 
 of history at Jena. For several years after their first inter- 
 view (1788), the two poets, though meeting now and then, 
 were but slightly acquainted with each other. 
 
 Meanwhile, during the years 1785-89, Schiller's first 
 enthusiastic notions of freedom had been moderated, and 
 had found a nobler form of expression in " Don Carlos/' 
 his fourth drama, which was completed in 1787. The poet's 
 historical studies supplied the materials for his works, ' ' The 
 Revolt of the Netherlands " and a " History of the Thirty 
 Years' War." After his appointment at Jena, he devoted 
 not a little of his time to Kant's philosophy, and endeavoured 
 to unite it with a theory of poetry and art. The results are 
 seen in the " Letters on ^Esthetic Education," and in the 
 essays, " On Grace and Dignity," " On the Sublime," and 
 " On Naive and Sentimental Poetry." His studies were 
 now and then relieved by holidays spent at Rudolstadt, 
 where he became acquainted with Charlotte von Lengefeld, 
 whom he married in 1790. His happiness was interrupted 
 in 1791 by a failure of health, which compelled him to seek 
 repose. The expenditure caused by loss of health led 
 to straitened circumstances, from which he was rescued by 
 two generous friends, from whom he received annually, for 
 three years, an income of about 200. This placed him in 
 easy circumstances, and enabled him to spend some time 
 among the scenes of his boyhood. 
 
 Schiller's political views were now no longer represented 
 by his early plays. Meanwhile their fame had won for 
 him the title of " citoyen franc.ais," granted by the 
 National Convention (in 1792) to the author, who, in the 
 diploma, is strangely called <f Mr. Gilles." It may be 
 presumed that, at the time when this honour was con- 
 ferred, no one in Paris knew the fact that Schiller had 
 
 21 
 
322 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 meditated writing and sending to Paris ' ' a defence of Louis 
 the Sixteenth/' The poet like many other men had 
 dreamed of an Utopia to be founded on negation ; but from 
 this dream he was soon awakened. As early as 1794 he 
 said : " The French Eepublic will fall into anarchy, and 
 anarchy must end in submission to a despot, who will 
 extend his sway over the greater part of Europe." In 1795 
 Goethe and Schiller, who were then united by a firm bond 
 of friendship, planned the "Xenien," a series of satirical 
 epigrams. The allied poets gained, at the time, more fame 
 by these epigrams than by their better writings. Schiller's 
 finest ballads each inspired by some noble idea and his 
 most elaborate drama, " Wallenstein," were all written in 
 the course of three years the time when his studies were 
 most severe. In 1800 he wrote the drama "Maria Stuart," 
 which was soon followed by " the Maid of Orleans." An 
 experiment, that could hardly be called a success, was made 
 when Schiller introduced the antique Greek chorus in 
 "the Bride of Messina" (1803). This was followed by 
 "Wilhelm Tell" (1804), in which the poet gave free 
 expression to his thoughts on national freedom. The 
 enthusiastic first reception of this drama was but the 
 beginning of a general and long- continued success. The 
 enthusiasm spread itself, as with electric energy, and was 
 powerful in alliance with other agencies that had their issue 
 in the war of liberation. 
 
 In May, 1804, Schiller paid a visit to Berlin. Though 
 only forty-four years old, his health was now rapidly failing. 
 He had been an invalid for several years, and this fact 
 makes his success in literature the more remarkable. His 
 consciousness of warfare between mind and body is reflected 
 in several of his letters. In one he exclaims : " Miserable 
 man ! with thoughts and hopes soaring to the heavens, yet 
 tied down to this clod of earth ; this tiresome clock-work of 
 the body \" In another he writes: "Now that I have 
 established in my mind such principles of art that I might 
 if spared do something great and good, my physical 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 323 
 
 constitution is threatened by decay. Well ; if it must be 
 so if the house must fall to ruins I have rescued from 
 the fall all that is worth saving." The disease pulmonary 
 consumption left for the sufferer one consolation clearness 
 of intellect. During the last few months of his life he 
 wrote a beautiful masque, and some parts of a tragedy. He 
 was, in fact, dying when he wrote, in April, 1805, some 
 passages in " Demetrius." In the following month his 
 life's work was ended. He died in the afternoon of the 
 ninth of May. 
 
 Schiller's works may be classified as belonging respec- 
 tively to three periods in his short life : youth, middle-life, 
 and the last decennium. Their chief characteristics are all 
 to be considered as expressions of the poet's own character. 
 He was at once a poet and a theorist. He made his imagina- 
 tive power serve as a means of education. His earliest 
 crude notion of liberty was expressed in " the Bobbers," 
 which at first excited such extravagant admiration. "If 
 Germany is ever to have a Shakespeare, here he is \" 
 said one fanatic. (( If I might create a world," said another 
 fanatic, " on the condition that ' the Eobbers ' should appear 
 in that world, I would not create it !" The fact is, that the 
 first three plays written by Schiller must be judged as 
 crude productions of youth. A time of transition in the 
 author's moral education gave rise to his fourth drama, 
 " Don Carlos." But here the character of the Marquis of 
 Posa is a fiction invented to give expression to the poet's 
 own sentiment of liberty. After the completion of this 
 fourth drama, the author during some years of his middle 
 life became more and more reflective, and devoted his 
 studies mostly to history and philosophy. He returned to 
 poetry in 1794, wrote his finest ballads (1797-8), and com- 
 pleted the historical tragedy IC Wallenstein " in 1799. 
 Of all his imaginative works this has the most extensive and 
 imposing design. The subject of his next drama was 
 another difficult historical character " Maria Stuart." Her 
 imputed guilt is here cast into the shade by sympathy with 
 
 21 * 
 
324 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 her sorrows. The motive of the play entitled " the Maid 
 of Orleans " is noble. The poet could believe what Yoltaire 
 could not imagine ; that hatred of oppression may with 
 sincerity assume the character of inspiration. It must 
 however be regretted that he partly contradicted his own 
 design by inventing an attachment, described as existing 
 between the heroic maiden and an Englishman an enemy 
 of France ! Why should such a weakness have been thought 
 possible ? 
 
 During his last decennium Schiller wrote all his best 
 " Ballads/' in which a desire to teach is harmonized more 
 or less perfectly with the laws of poetic art. In the com- 
 paratively few poems written during the reflective period of 
 middle-life, a didactic tendency prevails. Here we find in 
 " the Artists," and in " the G ods of Greece," traces of an 
 endeavour to unite poetry and philosophy. To that endeavour 
 may be ascribed the partly didactic tone heard not without 
 the attendant music of true poetry in "the Eleusinian 
 Festival," " the Walk/' and " the Song of the Bell." These 
 are all intended to teach, while they charm the reader. The 
 poet wishes to analyze and systematize his thoughts ; and 
 he has an earnest desire to teach. One of his chief doctrines 
 is to the effect, that the study of art may give aid important 
 though indirect in the process of our moral education. 
 Goodness and beauty ought to live in union, he tells us, 
 and the study of beauty may lead to a love of goodness. 
 
 " Schiller " it has often been said <f is the poet of 
 liberty." True ; so far as any brief saying of the kind can 
 be true. Yet it is vague ; for among all words noticeable 
 for their variations of meaning, few can compare with the 
 word " freedom." In its lowest sense, it is loudly enough 
 proclaimed in the poet's first play "the Robbers." In a 
 far higher sense, he afterwards accepted the idea of freedom, 
 and made it clear in his latest and besfc writings. Indeed it 
 is hardly too much to say, that his later studies in history, 
 poetry, and philosophy were for the most part controlled 
 by his constant endeavour to make clear the idea of freedom. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLEE. 325 
 
 Hence several of his most genial critics partly guided by 
 truth, partly by enthusiasm have regarded him as the 
 seer who predicted for the German people the freedom that 
 was won by their arms soon after his decease : 
 
 "He was a seer, a prophet/' "A. century has passed 
 since his birth, and we revere him as one of the first among 
 the spiritual heroes of humanity. A hundred years may 
 roll away ; another and yet another ; still from century to 
 century his name shall be celebrated, and at last there shall 
 come a festival when men will say : ' See ! there was truth 
 in his ideal anticipations of freedom and civilization.' "* 
 
 In youth, Schiller was one of the many who hailed the 
 idea of a violent revolution. But during his later life he 
 educated himself, and became convinced of the truth, that 
 freedom, left without good moral culture, must end in 
 anarchy. When he came near the close of his life, he was 
 apparently led on unconsciously toward the admission of a 
 most important doctrine that true liberty and Christianity 
 are closely related. The indirect evidence of this tendency 
 in Schiller's later studies may be noticed more distinctly in 
 another place. Here may be added only a few words 
 respecting the general value of such evidence. 
 
 Poets often say more than they intend to say. As 
 regards Schiller, this is especially true. The creed uncon- 
 sciously confessed by his genius was better than his doctrine 
 of a cold and stone-dead morality, borrowed from the 
 writings of Kant. There is here and there a true Christian 
 ethos in Schiller's poetry. It is earnest, and often expresses 
 the deepest sentiments of his heart. With him there exists 
 no wide separation between poetry and belief. There are 
 found here and there in his later poems passages well 
 according with the sentiment expressed in one of his letters 
 (written in 1804) : "The time we live in ought to suggest 
 to the men of Berlin, that the tone of their philosophy 
 should now be more reverent." Soon after the poet's 
 
 * Friedrich Yischer ; Speech at the Centenary Festival of Schiller's 
 Birthday (1859). 
 
326 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 decease (1805), Fichte delivered in Berlin the lectures in 
 which he rebuked the pert irreverence that had too long 
 been fashionable. His doctrine was accordant with the 
 poet's sentiment, though one was not suggested by the 
 other (pp. 187-8). 
 
 Sentiment and reasoning are obviously distinct ; yet both 
 may be well grounded in one truth, and may lead to one 
 result. When the eighteenth century had developed its 
 tendencies, a reversion of feeling took place among 
 thoughtful men. They felt that the world had now heard 
 enough of denial and destruction ; and they almost longed 
 especially those who lived in Berlin to find something better 
 than the knowingness and frivolity of the age. Elsewhere 
 the same sentiment was prevalent; and in many cases it 
 might be fairly regarded as only a natural result of the 
 " reign of terror." In Schiller it was the result of advanced 
 self-culture. He was a man of his time at least in his 
 early days ; and he always retained his love of political 
 freedom. In his philosophical writings, he endeavoured to 
 make attractive the cold abstractions of Kantian morals and 
 the doctrine of personal independence. He was a proud 
 man; or to say the least, he was independent, even to a 
 fault. It is therefore noteworthy, when he speaks with 
 distrust of the proud and independent philosophy that he 
 had too long studied; and when he expresses a fear, lest 
 freethinking people should be left at last to enjoy their 
 liberty and nothing else. 
 
 The democracy proclaimed so loudly in the poet's earliest 
 play was revolutionary, and expressed nothing higher or 
 more positive than his own dislike of school-discipline. 
 The severity of the discipline in the school where he was 
 trained has been exaggerated. Schiller, during his last two 
 years at school, was earnestly engaged in writing his 
 first play ; and he fully believed that it would make a 
 great sensation in the world. Hence his prolonged stay 
 there especially after 1779 was for him a time of painful 
 imprisonment. The play completed in 1780 however 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 327 
 
 crude and violent, tells something true of the time when it 
 was written and gained such wide-spread popularity. In the 
 course of the five years, 1777-82, a revolution took place in 
 the poet's mind. He had been trained as a Christian by his 
 parents. His mother was especially esteemed as a pious 
 and well-instructed woman. When he was about seventeen 
 years old (1776) he could still remember with reverence his 
 early belief. Of this we are assured by a fragment of 
 autobiography written about that time. He here describes 
 himself as one " called to live in days of doubt and anxiety/' 
 and placed so that care is required on his part in order to 
 avoid " unbelief on one side, and superstition on the other/' 
 He then proceeds as follows : 
 
 " The bell calling all believers to church is now tolling, 
 and the people are going to unite their voices in adoration. 
 I will obey the summons, and will go with them, that my faith 
 may be confirmed by thoughts of God and eternity. May 
 my heart to-day be opened to receive impressions of truth ; 
 and may they be so confirmed in me that I may be prepared 
 to make them known to others." [He once had thoughts 
 of choosing theology as his profession.] At the close of 
 the fragment, he prays that his mind may be guarded 
 against the influence of unbelieving men whom he calls 
 et scorners." 
 
 In the course of another year, the poet still at school 
 was engaged in writing some scenes in "the Kobbers;" 
 and not long after the time when the play first appeared, he 
 wrote the letter in which he describes his early piety as 
 something of which he has been deprived. Thus writing 
 in 1783 he addresses a supposed friend, to whom he applies 
 the pseudonym " Raphael :" 
 
 "It was a happy time when I was led blindfold. You 
 have taught me to think ; and the result is, that now I find 
 myself disposed to lament the fact that I was ever born. 
 You have robbed me of the faith that once gave me peace, 
 and have taught me to despise that which I once adored. 
 Many things to me seemed venerable, before the time when 
 
328 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 they were 'unmasked' by your dismal wisdom. With plea- 
 sure I could once see men like brethren going to church, 
 and could hear their voices blending in thanksgiving. 
 Surely, I said, the faith that so unites the souls of good men, 
 that developes such power, and bestows so much consola- 
 tion must be divine. But all that has passed away ; your 
 cold reason has extinguished my fervour. I have now 
 accepted as law your proclamation : s Nothing is sacred 
 except truth. Henceforth believe in nothing save your own 
 reason/ This teaching has been accepted as the law by 
 which I must henceforth be guided. Now for all my 
 remaining faith in God, virtue, and immortality I have 
 no basis save what is found in my own reason ; it will 
 therefore be an evil day for me when I find my own reason 
 capable of self-contradiction. There will remain then for 
 me no basis of faith or firm persuasion/' 
 
 The modesty and self-distrust implied in this letter soon 
 passed away, and the poet naturally a proud man learned 
 to look down with contempt on everything that in his 
 boyhood had been believed. He thus acquired the true 
 cosmopolitan and philosophical tone fashionable at the 
 time ; but for the most part he avoided the levity and self- 
 complacency then prevalent. Intellectual dwarfs, whose sole 
 work was destruction, were then as proud as Titans might 
 be, if engaged in the construction of a new world; and 
 petty despots, who could hardly listen to a word of calm 
 reasoning, were incessantly prating of " freedom" simply 
 because they had nothing else to say. Schiller must not be 
 classed with these common-place men of his period; yet 
 it must be confessed that he preached too often on his 
 favourite text " cosmopolitan freedom" in a style of 
 which the following is an example : 
 
 t( I write now as a citizen of the world ; as one who is 
 subject to no prince no king. To care for mankind the 
 people is my sole study ; in the public I recognize my true 
 sovereign, and my true bosom friend. To this tribunal, 
 and to no other, I am responsible. There is something 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 329 
 
 magnificent in the thought, that I am subject now to no 
 restrictions, save those imposed by public opinion. To no 
 Caesar do I appeal ; but to the universal soul of mankind. 
 A citizen of the universe in every man I see a member of 
 one family my own. Whatever may be his outward show 
 of rank, office or position, I look through all these articles 
 of dress and decoration, and see only my fellow-citizen/' 
 
 This was the style of eloquence that won for Schiller the 
 honour of recognition by the National Convention. They 
 claimed him as their brother, and, as we have seen, bestowed 
 on him the title " Mr. Gilles, citoyen francais." Eloquent 
 declamations on liberty abound in the poet's fourth play 
 " Don Carlos" which was written at various times during 
 the years 1784-7. These years were however a time of 
 self-culture ; and the good result is seen in the more 
 thoughtful tone of several passages in this play. 
 
 Though it is mostly didactic, and if viewed as a work of 
 art is a failure, it shows the earnestness of the writer's 
 endeavour to convert the theatre into a school of moral 
 culture. He believed that it was possible to make the stage 
 a great moral power in society. In an eloquent lecture, 
 delivered in 1784, he contends that a superior drama may 
 indirectly assist the laws of a nation in the support of 
 morality. He argues that, even where the moral condition 
 of a people is low, they may be led by a tragedy to feel a 
 wholesome dread of crime; for example, when the poet 
 brings on the stage the wife of Macbeth, muttering : " All 
 the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand V 9 
 
 "Such theatrical impressions" he says "cannot be 
 esteemed good substitutes for moral teaching ; but they are 
 strong and durable upon the minds of the common people, 
 and must have some value. Could any lecture on ingra- 
 titude produce the effect of Lear's exclamation : ' I gave 
 you all '?.... There are many minor virtues and vices 
 which religion and law cannot notice ; yet they are worthy 
 of observation, and without personality or malice, these 
 may be placed before us in legitimate comedy. In this 
 
330 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 mirror we may see the defects and inconsistencies in our 
 own characters, and, without having to submit to personal 
 reproof, we may be secretly thankful to the comic dramatist 
 for giving us wholesome hints, while he raises a laugh at 
 the expense of an imaginary character. If against these 
 observations it is argued that practical life contradicts them ; 
 that spectators can witness representations of the best moral 
 dramas, and feel no wholesome influence still, admitting 
 the force of the objection, I would say that the drama must 
 not be condemned for having failed, as other institutions 
 have failed, to produce a complete reformation in society/' 
 Thus Schiller reasoned his conclusions all depending on 
 the supposition that a legitimate and moral drama can be 
 maintained. 
 
 Almost all that can be said for and against the moral 
 power of the stage may be found, when this lecture is com- 
 pared with an essay on the same subject written by Ignaz 
 Wessenberg. "The drama/' says this author, "however 
 noble its character, must not give its lessons in a didactic 
 style, but must place before us, in fair contrasts, the lights 
 and the shadows of human nature ; must make us acquainted 
 with the wise, the virtuous, and also with the foolish and 
 the unworthy. And characters must be naturally drawn. 
 The goodness which accompanies evil must claim our notice. 
 The moral or general purport of a drama cannot appear in 
 every part ; but must result from a fair view of the whole. 
 Can we hope, even if a drama is in itself good, that all the 
 spectators will take a fair view of the whole ? If a rogue 
 is introduced on the stage, he must be made interesting ; 
 his good humour, his cleverness, and his temporary success 
 must be fairly shown, so as to awaken sympathy and interest 
 in his fortunes. All this will not lead a discriminating 
 mind into error ; but young and untrained minds will admire 
 the hero, and forget that he is a rogue. There is no way of 
 avoiding this result, so far as I can see. If the drama is 
 made a vehicle of direct moral instruction, its true character, 
 as a work of art, is destroyed/' 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 331 
 
 The poet's object in writing "Don Carlos" was a refor- 
 mation of society ; but the practical result was a reformation 
 of himself. He was now no longer a wild revolutionist, 
 but a moderate reformer, whose chief aim was to show that 
 moral culture must open the only way that can lead to the 
 attainment of liberty. There is no fact in his life more 
 worthy of respect than this, that while such plays as ' f the 
 Bobbers" were still popular he renounced all such popu- 
 larity as his earlier writings had won, and devoted himself 
 to study, in order that he might be better qualified for 
 teaching others. He still however talked too much of the 
 everlasting contrast existing between "the real and the 
 ideal ;" and too lightly esteemed the value of the lessons 
 taught by history. 
 
 In 1 789 he was appointed Professor of History at Jena. 
 His own words are enough to show how little importance he 
 then ascribed to the study : " It is now too late," he wrote, 
 "or I would decline this appointment. What golden years 
 of freedom must be sacrificed, while I am poring over 
 old books and manuscripts ! . . . I could laugh at myself 
 for assuming this position; for many a student at Jena 
 
 knows more of history than I do Perhaps, however, 
 
 there will be found some listeners and readers who may 
 like to follow such a guide as myself. . . . Already I have 
 read with enthusiasm the story of that Revolt of the 
 Netherlands, and I find there represented my own idea of 
 freedom. There you see how a brave struggle was main- 
 tained for the recovery of liberty the first essential 
 characteristic of humanity. The power developed in that 
 contest is not yet extinct. ... It will be my endeavour to 
 spread among the students something like my own enthusiasm. 
 History must serve as the canvass on which my own idea 
 will be depicted." 
 
 Of the patience, the quiet attention, and the teachable 
 disposition demanded by the study of facts, the Professor of 
 History says little or nothing ; and indeed it was but little 
 that he knew. He was more seriously engaged soon after- 
 
332 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 wards (in 1791) in the study of Kant's philosophy; and 
 thus he was led to establish for himself the aesthetic- ethic 
 principles afterwards developed in his own philosophical and 
 critical writings, and in his correspondence with Goethe. 
 
 Freedom as understood by Schiller, when his mind was 
 matured, was a noble idea at once ethical, national and 
 practical. This idea was more highly refined when he 
 devoted his attention to the study of aesthetics. " The love 
 of beauty/' he said, " must be associated with pure morality, 
 and the result of both is the attainment of a true personal 
 freedom." The aim of a true ethical and aesthetic education 
 is to convert the obedience due to stern law into a free 
 expression of love. As the ideas of goodness and beauty 
 are united, though distinct, there must be a natural 
 connection between ethical and artistic training ; though 
 unhappily they are too often separated in fact, through the 
 frailties of individuals. The art is too often made more 
 estimable than the artist. 
 
 Art should aid morality ; and both united should lead to 
 personal liberty. This conclusion implied in his lecture on 
 the drama already noticed was regarded by Schiller as 
 something like a substitute for religion. So easily was its 
 truth made evident to his own mind, that he imagined it 
 might be spread, and be made available as a common basis 
 of education. Hardly any fact can show more clearly how 
 far sober, historical, and practical truth had been neglected, 
 when Schiller could imagine that his poetical ethics might 
 serve instead of a religion. Liberty, as he now defined it, 
 is a refined sentiment, that can exist only in a man of high 
 culture. It is but a dream to imagine that such a sentiment 
 can ever be so appreciated by the majority as to take the 
 place of authority, political and religious. Civilization must 
 already be well founded before the time can arrive when 
 artistic culture may serve as an auxiliary tendency, leading 
 on to a higher stage of refinement. At the same time, it 
 should be added, that the poet's idea of aesthetic- ethic 
 culture is not one to be treated with contempt ; and is not 
 
^R-A^ 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 
 
 to be confounded with any trivial notions of ' ' art for the 
 sake of art." Schiller venerates the ideal and invisible 
 the aspiration and true meaning in art. He regards 
 the poet's vocation as one having a certain sanctity 
 of character; as one justly demanding persevering study, 
 and even the devotion of a life. He sometimes goes too far 
 in this direction at least on certain occasions, when he 
 refers almost egotistically to the advantages of his own 
 position (after 1793). Though he has married happily and 
 is a father, he is thankful chiefly because he finds his 
 domestic circumstances especially the quiet cheerfulness of 
 his wife conducive to the success of his poetical studies. 
 He lives now in a quiet little world of his own ; and forgets 
 the great world as well as he can. Thus he finds time to 
 elaborate his theory of aesthetic- ethic education, of which 
 some few more traits may be noticed ; for next to poetry 
 itself this was the chief study of his later years. 
 
 " Kant in his ethical teaching/' says Schiller, f ' has made 
 the law of duty repulsive, on account of its extreme severity" 
 (p. 154). Law for the sake of law is something even worse 
 than " art for the sake of art." " Sense and reason ; 
 conscience and sentiment ; duty and inclination these 
 antithetical words denote discords that should be harmonized . 
 and they are so harmonized in the mind of a true Christian, 
 when he finds his delight in the fulfilment of the law. 
 Hence Christianity must be called the only aesthetic 
 religion." The harmony of will and morals, here defined 
 by the poet, is otherwise called liberty ; and to a sense of 
 this liberty we may be led, he says, by the study of art. 
 For art has its laws and its difficulties in rendering 
 obedience ; and when these are overcome, the result is a 
 sense of liberty and delight. 
 
 As contrasted with this pleasant theory, the hard, abstract 
 "law itself" prescribed by Kant seems intolerably severe, 
 especially when it is made to appear, that obedience can 
 hardly be called moral, if it be associated with any 
 pleasurable emotion. At this point the poet's sense of 
 
334 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 humour is awakened, and lie levels against Kant's para- 
 doxical law the following excellent epigram : 
 
 " Fain would I help the friend I hold so dear ; 
 But helping him would yield delight I fear ; 
 To keep my ethics pure, my friend must wait, 
 And meanwhile I must help the men I hate." 
 
 Enough has been said to make a clear distinction between 
 the poet's ideas and the trivial notions, or rather fashions, 
 unfortunately called " aesthetic " in our day. Next must be 
 noticed the poet's chief error. The culture he recommends 
 may serve as a graceful attendant on goodness; but it is 
 falsely described as supplying an education that may take 
 the place of religion. In the first place it should be 
 observed, that religion is required by " all men," and as the 
 only sure basis of their practical morality. If proof be 
 demanded here, we have only to dismiss all abstract or 
 generalizing terms such as virtue and vice and speak of 
 realities in terms as plain as possible. Selfishness, greed, 
 envy, and hate these are some of the chief motives by 
 which men are led into evil. These names denote, not 
 doctrines or opinions, but forces ; living energies that more 
 or less are felt everywhere in society. Obviously the power 
 by which they are controlled must be a living power, and 
 must have authority. " The world," says Kant, " must be 
 controlled by means of a collective moral will." So far as 
 a maintenance of external morality is concerned, the civil 
 government and its laws may represent the moral force 
 required. But further inquiry will lead back to the truth 
 already established (pp. 171-3) ; and will show, that as civil 
 government is founded on morality, so morality is founded 
 on religion. When we estimate the value of culture, artistic 
 or scientific viewed in its social relations we are speaking 
 of certain useful parts of a building or of its decorations ; 
 but when we have to estimate the value of religion we are 
 speaking of a power like that of gravitation itself a power 
 pervading the whole superstructure, and giving firmness to 
 the foundation. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 335 
 
 The notion of finding something like a substitute for 
 religion in a doctrine of gesthetic-ethics was a delusion. 
 The poet himself, in his later years, knew more of ordinary 
 men and their motives. The Utopian dreams of his youth, 
 and the later results of his philosophical studies, were both 
 disturbed by the issue of the French revolution. He indeed 
 always remained faithful to the idea of freedom ; but it was 
 no longer the cosmopolitan and revolutionary idea of his 
 youth. On the contrary, it was now an idea associated with 
 national honour, social virtue, and patriotic devotion the 
 characteristics that made so attractive two of his later 
 dramas : the "Maid of Orleans " and " William Tell." 
 
 " Schiller is the poet of liberty." This saying has been so 
 often repeated and made so popular, that now it seems 
 hopeless to write a word tending to qualify the sense in 
 which the word " liberty " is mostly accepted, here as else- 
 where. Yet it may be submitted, that the poet had a first 
 idea of liberty, and a second. He gained renown by his 
 first sensational play where all who have money are 
 " tyrants," and those who would rob are true "friends of 
 liberty" but he lived long enough to be ashamed of that 
 play. He wrote (in 1785) a rhapsodical and democratic 
 " Hymn to Joy ;" but in later years he described that hymn 
 as "a bad poem/' In his youth he aided the men of his 
 day, who could do nothing but destroy; men whose motto 
 might have been lago's, with a difference : We "are 
 nothing if not " destructive. Afterwards he endeavoured to 
 build up something that might serve instead of a religious 
 faith ; and he succeeded so far that in his own mind, his 
 home, and throughout the circle of his influence he made 
 the real subordinate to the ideal. He was, both in politics 
 and in poetry, a self-educated man, whose success won the 
 admiration of such friends as Goethe, Korner, and Wilhelm 
 von Humboldt. The last-named was a refined critic, and one 
 especially well qualified to estimate rightly the character of 
 the poet, to whom (in 1803) he addressed such words as the 
 following : " The ideal is your own world your home; and 
 
336 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 thence descend rays of light and warmth, to cheer this 
 lower sphere in which we dwell ." 
 
 More than other men, authors have to endure chastisement 
 for the sins of their youth ; it was so in Schiller's case. His 
 earliest democratic notions were made thoroughly popular 
 among certain classes. So far as his influence was spread 
 among ignorant people, he was known as a man of the 
 revolution; one whose principles were not unlike those pro- 
 claimed in such phrases as the following : 
 
 "Liberte et egalite pour le gouvernement de la re- 
 publique ; indivisibilite pour sa forme ; salut public pour sa 
 defense et sa conservation ; vertu pour son principe ; Etre 
 supreme pour son culte : quant aux citoyens, fraternite dans 
 leurs relations mutuelles ; probite pour leur conduite ; bon 
 sens pour leur esprit."* 
 
 These expressions of " good sense " are hardly more 
 empty than some of the speeches ascribed to " Posa " in 
 " Don Carlos " a play that nevertheless reflects much 
 honour on the writer. All the best sentiments ascribed to 
 that fictitious character belonged in reality to the author ; 
 though they were still abstract too little defined and 
 moderated. These vague expressions of sentiments too 
 refined to be popular led to the error of the violent men 
 who hailed the poet as a brother. Their motto was 
 liberty, and he had made it his watchword. Yet the 
 difference existing between their intention and his own was 
 so great that it can hardly be exaggerated. It may be 
 illustrated, perhaps, by an anecdote of the time : 
 
 On the 10th of August, 1792, while the sections were 
 attacking the Tuileries, there might be observed a man of 
 calm and refined expression about fifty years old walking 
 quietly about in several of the streets of Paris, apparently 
 knowing nothing of the terrible outrages committed on that 
 day. It might indeed be guessed either that he was a man 
 destitute of both personal fear and human sympathy, or that 
 
 * Mignet, " Hist, de la Revolution fransaise ;" chap. ix. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLEK. 337 
 
 he was, in some strange way, eccentric. In neither case 
 would the guess be true. He was so far "a friend of 
 the revolution" that he described it as a preparatory move- 
 ment, leading toward a true reformation ; but he detested 
 the cruelty of the men who had then made themselves 
 the masters of France. He was an apostle of freedom; 
 but the freedom to which his studies were devoted was an 
 idea of which the revolutionary men of his day knew 
 nothing. This was the mystic writer Saint-Martin he 
 called himself "le Philosophe inconnu" a man whose 
 natural disposition was pacific and amiable ; though, in his 
 own way, he was a revolutionary theorist. He could " trace " 
 he said "in all the disorder of the times, the visible 
 order of Divine Providence/' The revolution was as he 
 believed a severe punishment justly inflicted on men for 
 their long course of impiety in past ages; and it was 
 inevitable that the innocent must suffer with the guilty. 
 This quiet mystic entertained also a belief even more 
 dreadful a belief that all the effusion of blood during the 
 reign of terror was salutary, and would purify the earth 
 from the stains left by many crimes. Defended only by his 
 own faith, he thus lived fearlessly in Paris, even during the 
 reign of Robespierre ; and could look without dismay on 
 the movement then taking place, though he had no sympathy 
 with its leaders. Saint-Martin belonged to a certain school 
 one of the " secret societies/' or " lodges," so numerous 
 in his time. The founder of the school was a Jew named 
 Martinez Pasqualis, who died in 1779. Enough has been 
 told to indicate the fact, that extreme contrasts of character 
 were found among the men classed together as " friends of 
 liberty," in Schiller's time. In all respects, confusion was 
 the order of the day ; and one of its results was the fact 
 that (in 1792) the poet was accepted as a worthy " citizen of 
 France ;> by the Jacobins, whose reign of terror he describes 
 in such lines as the following : 
 
 "'Freedom,' says reason; 'freedom/ passion cries, 
 And snaps at once all chains all social ties ; 
 
 22 
 
338 GEEMAN CULTUEE AND CHEISTIANITY. 
 
 Asunder laws and sacred morals fly ; 
 The pole-star shines no longer in the sty ; 
 The world's a raging sea, without a shore ; 
 Love, truth, and loyalty, are known no more. 
 There's left no rest, no faith, in human hearts, 
 And from man's conscience God himself departs." 
 
 This is indeed vigorous declamation ; and at the same 
 time is thoughtful and sincere. In proportion as the poet's 
 own idea of freedom was patriotic, reasonable, and humane, 
 just so deep or intense was the horror excited in his mind 
 by the second stage of the revolution. His indignation is 
 again expressed and in terms still more energetic in the 
 " Song of the Bell/' written in 1799. From the passage 
 describing the reign of terror a few lines may here be given 
 in the form of our translation : 
 
 " 'Freedom ! Equality !' they cry ; 
 * To arms !' the sections all reply. 
 Now banded murderers ' brethren' meet 
 In every palace, hall, and street ; 
 And those who once were ' women ' called 
 Now fell hyaenas un appalled, 
 Make sport of death itself, and fain 
 Would slay once more the victims slain. 
 
 " There's nought left now of ancient awe, 
 
 Of order based in oldest time ; 
 Extinct are reason, right, and law, 
 And ' freedom ' all belongs to crime. 
 
 " Fell is the lion in his ire 
 The tiger, with his eyes of fire ; 
 But worse the foes that here we see 
 
 Disguised in likeness of mankind ; 
 
 The ' friends of liberty 'all blind- 
 All frenzied shouting : ' We are free !' " 
 
 When the fact is noticed that Schiller, at various times, 
 said much in favour of freedom, it may be well to notice 
 also his later definitions of freedom. His early enthusiasm 
 was depressed by the issue of events in France. The basis 
 of his belief in man's capacity of enjoying true liberty 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 339 
 
 was not changed ; he could still write sincerely such words 
 as these : 
 
 " First, man must be free ; 7 tis his nature's decree ; 
 
 Ay, though he in fetters was born. 
 'Tis true ; though the rabble who shout, ' We are free !' 
 
 May fairly awaken your scorn. 
 Spread round you true freedom, as far as you can ; 
 Take off the slave's fetters, and make him a man." 
 
 The lines here quoted belong to the poem entitled " The 
 Words of Faith/' written in 1797. Two years later, he 
 wrote, as a counterpart, the five stanzas entitled " The 
 Words of Delusion/' of which the tone is subdued not to 
 say melancholy. Here we find such sentiments as the 
 following : 
 
 " A man can know little of life's noble aim, 
 So long as he follows the shadow I name 
 
 So long as he waits for ' a golden age,' 
 When the good and the true will have peace 
 
 For good men have ever a warfare to wage, 
 A warfare that here will not cease ; 
 
 So far as they fail to contend for the right, 
 
 So far will the foeman prevail in the fight. 
 
 " A man can know little of life's noble aim, 
 So long as he follows the shadow I name 
 
 So long as he hopes * worldly fortune,' at last, 
 
 Will shine on the good and the true- 
 Her smiles on the worthless have ever been cast; 
 
 G-ood men, she has nothing for you ! 
 For you there's a home that shall never decay ; 
 But here you are pilgrims and rough is the way." 
 
 Further examples of moderation in the poet's later doc- 
 trine of liberty may be seen in our quotations selected from 
 his later correspondence and other writings in prose. These 
 are on one account especially noticeable ; they afford 
 examples of a change of views taking place in the mind of 
 a man eminently sincere, ideal, pure in intention, and still 
 
 22 * 
 
340 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 more remarkable for one trait not often noticed lie was 
 singularly unconscious respecting the nature of certain 
 tendencies that appear in his later writings. Consequently 
 if here we observe any signs of his return toward a 
 reverential view of Christianity, we may rest assured that 
 they are in the highest possible sense of the word sincere. 
 He did not see the end of the way in which he was going. 
 
 His later political views were also sincere. The closing 
 acts of the revolution had now compelled him to know more 
 of human nature than he had ever learned in the course of 
 his earlier historical studies. These in fact had always been 
 conducted in a superficial and one-sided way ; and thus 
 could never lead to the knowledge of truth. He knew but 
 little of the dread realities always lying hid behind the 
 curtain of civilization. Of those terrors he knows com- 
 paratively little even now (at the close of 1792) when he can 
 gravely think it probable that Danton and his associates 
 will pay some respectful attention to the petition of " citizen 
 Gilles " that the life of Louis XVI may be spared. " This 
 is a time when a man must speak " says the poet " for 
 now, at this crisis in France, there may be many who will 
 listen to my voice " [!] The petition would be written and 
 sent ; but he is hindered by his want of facility in writing 
 French. He does not despair ; but now his political hopes 
 are expressed in terms as moderate as these : " We must 
 strive to do right ; though we cannot do all that is right. 
 We must seek first the practicable ; not the perfect. Our 
 notions must not be too wide ; we must care for the nation 
 to which we belong. Here lies our strength ; here our 
 endeavours will be well-rooted. It is no more our duty to 
 care for the whole of the human race, than it is our duty to 
 exercise control over the wind and the rain." 
 
 Schiller was now in some measure able to correct a grcss 
 error of his former years. He had then spoken lightly of 
 the duties belonging to a great statesman. The poet and 
 the thinker, he had said, produce the thoughts and impulses 
 by which society is ultimately governed ; but the statesman 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 341 
 
 only makes use of their ideas at the time when they can be 
 made practical. There is some inkling of truth in the 
 notion; but its tendency to degrade the noble idea of 
 statesmanship is false and injurious to a degree. The 
 statesman's work may indeed be called secondary in one 
 respect, since other men especially religious teachers 
 have already made the preparation without which his success 
 would be impossible ; but none the less for that, the honour 
 due to his own work remains he has done that which 
 before was merely designed ; he has transmuted into facts 
 ideas once described as dreams. In work like this it is not 
 the mere poet, however ideal, nor the mere thinker, however 
 profound ; but it is the great practical man whose character 
 is displayed. He is, in his own way, an eclectic and yet a 
 creative man. Out of all the confusion of dreams he can 
 select some good ideas. He will not rest content with 
 thoughts that can do nothing. He lives surrounded by 
 ideas that cannot be realized, and schemes that can be made 
 practicable only after the lapse of centuries. Among them 
 he finds better thoughts ; and from these he selects those 
 most practicable now. He selects, combines, and so forms 
 plans that can be carried out in practice. On the measures 
 so prepared he stamps at last the firm impress of abiding 
 institutions. This is his work, and it is great ; just as the 
 poet's work is great in its way. 
 
 That a generous man, like Schiller, could at any time 
 estimate slightly the duties of a great statesman, is a fact 
 that can be explained only by means of reference to another 
 he knew comparatively but little of history and politics. 
 Like too many other precocious writers on serious questions, 
 he lived long enough to deplore in vain the triumph of errors 
 that had been spread abroad partly by means of his own 
 declamatory fervour. The results are thus described in 
 his later writings : 
 
 " Respect for old established tenets is destroyed. Despot- 
 ism has been unmasked. Man has been awakened, is made 
 conscious of his native independence ; and with all the 
 
342 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 emphasis of large majorities, lie now demands full restora- 
 tion of his imperishable rights. The foundations have been 
 moved, and the whole superstructure of society is shaken. 
 . . . The results are disappointing. Enlightened reason 
 the boast of the educated classes has led to no higher 
 morality ; but rather has supplied arguments in support of 
 egotism, while refinement so-called has served mostly to 
 increase the number of our natural wants. . . . What 
 is now most urgently required, is a reformation that shall 
 be at once moral and aesthetic. Let frivolity be first 
 expelled from our amusements [i.e. the theatre, art and 
 literature] , then it may be expelled from our more serious 
 occupations; and at last it may be driven out of our 
 hearts." [The order if reversed would surely be more 
 logical.] . . . " Let the people, in the midst of their 
 recreations, find themselves surrounded with forms of 
 beauty ; and thus nature herself will be educated under the 
 influence of art."* 
 
 These later sentences will serve to confirm the truth of 
 our conclusion that the poet sometimes described aesthetic 
 culture as a substitute for religion. 
 
 It has been shown that the poet's early rationalism and 
 extreme democracy were tempered and moderated by his 
 subsequent opinions ; but it is not implied that the latter 
 were able to destroy the effects of the former tendencies. 
 The crude idea of liberty was one that could be seized by 
 everybody. The refined idea of a culture, leading first to 
 personal, and then to social and political freedom this 
 unfortunately is not an idea that can be grasped or well 
 understood by the multitude. The popular Schiller as 
 " the poet of liberty" will always count on his side more 
 votes than those given to the philosophical poet. The 
 distinction here noticed is one suggested by the general 
 indirect tendencies of his writings, when viewed in contrast 
 with their special traits. The former are patent to every 
 
 * " Brief e liber die asthetische Erzieliung des Menschcn ;" 1795. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 343 
 
 reader; the latter are observed only by careful students. 
 When the saying is once more repeated, that for Schiller 
 independent culture takes the place of religion, the truth of 
 the conclusion is obvious, though it may require some 
 qualification. On the other hand, when it is suggested that 
 his later writings contain evidences of a latent reverence, 
 of which Christianity is the object, the remark may seem 
 to require some evidence to show its truth. 
 
 The new classic literature of Germany especially the 
 poetry of Goethe and Schiller arose in the time when 
 rationalism was commonly accepted as almost equivalent to 
 a demonstration. It was understood that literary culture 
 should be independent, and to use the word employed by 
 Goethe in describing his own position in 1781 " non- 
 Christian;^ and on the whole this general definition was 
 not forgotten. Consequently as we have seen already it 
 is not easy to find in all the writings of Goethe any direct 
 and concise answer to the question, ' f How much did he 
 believe of the Christian Eeligion ? " The difficulty of 
 finding a direct answer will not be lessened when we turn 
 to notice, in this respect, the prose- writings and the poems 
 of Schiller including his dramas. One fact is clear that, 
 like his friend Goethe, he sometimes expresses reverential 
 sentiments that may be called involuntary ; and when such 
 expressions occur in his poetry, the evidence they afford 
 will not seem inconsiderable, if we remember that he 
 sincerely believed in the moral power of poetry. It was 
 for him an earnest occupation to write ballads and dramas ; 
 because he believed that this was his best way of communi- 
 cating to others the truth that for himself was the highest 
 possible. He is sincere when in the story of "Ibycus" 
 he makes dramatic art an agent of Divine Justice ; and he 
 is also sincere when he shows us the beauty of Christian 
 humility in the adventure of a knight belonging to the 
 Order of St. John. As regards the reverence often expressed 
 in his later poems, it is probable that, for the most part, he 
 was as unconscious of its source as of its tendency. 
 
344 GERMAN GUI/TUBE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The general theology of Schiller's poetry may be called 
 theistic. His three "Words of Faith" "freedom," 
 " virtue," " God" as defined in the poem so entitled, 
 may be accepted as his substitute for a creed, so far as it is 
 anywhere formally pronounced. But it should not be 
 forgotten that in some of the finest passages of his poetry 
 he introduces sentiments that are distinctly Christian. For 
 one example may be noticed the ballad entitled the " Fight 
 with the Dragon." Here self-conquest is honoured as the 
 greatest heroism; and the truth is well illustrated. The 
 slaying of the serpent pride, whose lair is in the heart, is a 
 deed nobler than slaying the great dragon of Ehodes. It 
 should be premised, that in the Order of the Knights of 
 St. John it was a rule, that no knight should undertake any 
 adventure without receiving permission from the Grand 
 Master. Disregarding this rule, one named Dieu-donne 
 sallied forth to attack a huge dragon which had spread 
 devastation over a large district near Ehodes. He had 
 taken every precaution to insure success in his bold 
 adventure. To train his charger and his hounds for the 
 combat, he employed an artist to make an image of the 
 monster, and, when the dogs were accustomed to attack the 
 hideous effigy, they were led out against the real dragon. 
 The knight returned victorious, dragging behind him the 
 slain enemy, and accompanied by crowds of people loudly 
 hailing their deliverer. Meanwhile, the Knights of the 
 Order are assembled in conclave in their hall. The hero 
 appears before them, and receives from the Grand Master a 
 stern reprimand for his disobedience. He must divest 
 himself of his badge and surrender all claims to the honour 
 of Christian knighthood. The crowd who have pressed 
 into the hall, expecting to see some great reward bestowed 
 on their hero, stand in mute amazement when this heavy 
 censure falls upon him, and some of his brethren come 
 forward to plead for grace ; but the penitent meekly 
 submits, takes off his badge, and, before he turns away, 
 kisses the hand of the Grand Master. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. SCHILLER. 345 
 
 " ' Here ! to my heart ! ' the Master cries ; 
 
 ' Come back ! by deeds of valour done, 
 You only risked the Christian's prize 
 Which now your lowliness hath won.' " 
 
 Nothing can be more Christian than the ruling idea of 
 this poem ; for self-humiliation is the mystery and the 
 glory of our faith. Schiller in profession a rationalist 
 did not invent the stories on which his ballads are founded. 
 He selected them from various sources, and in several 
 instances chose stories of which the principal theme is 
 Christian humility, as in " The Walk to the Forge/' and 
 the " Count of Hapsburg." Thus he accepted in poetry 
 ideas which had been rejected by his understanding. Why ? 
 Two distinct motives have been assigned by critics. He 
 was mostly concerned it is said to find a subject well 
 suited for poetic illustration ; and cared little for any prin- 
 ciples or doctrines that might seem to be implied in the 
 story. To this it is replied, that vice and crime also supply 
 subjects that imaginative power can make too attractive. 
 Even in our own day when everything good must be 
 demonstrated before it can be believed no arguments are 
 demanded to support this proposition. It is obvious 
 enough, that a poet, or a novelist, may now win fame 
 and something for which men care more than for fame by 
 making himself a pander to vice. Schiller cared for fame ; 
 and he gained it at last not so much however by his noble 
 ballads, as by the assertion of national liberty contained in 
 his most popular dramas. A better motive than love of 
 fame must account for his choice of Christian themes. The 
 heart is often wiser than the head ; the truth grasped by 
 feeling is something more than the hard definitions classified 
 by the understanding. The genius dictating the highest 
 and purest poetry is wiser than the poet himself, when he 
 writes down and polishes his verses. Unconscious, non- 
 systematic thought may be leading a man on toward 
 spiritual and divine light, while his accepted dogmas of 
 
346 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 <{ freethi liking " may be hanging all the wliile upon him as 
 fetters upon a prisoner. 
 
 These distinctions will be found true, when we have 
 regard only to the thoughts and feelings of commonplace 
 men; but they are especially true when applied to the 
 character of a man like Schiller. In his later years he did 
 not understand the religious tendency of his own sentiments. 
 They are of course most freely expressed in his poetry ; yet 
 there may be found in his later prose writings passages to 
 support our opinion that near the close of his life he was 
 led to think with reverence of religion. A passage in the 
 poet's later correspondence, to which we have already briefly 
 referred (p. 825), may here be more distinctly noticed. It 
 is found in a letter addressed to his friend Zelter, in 
 1804 : 
 
 " In the dark time of superstition, Berlin first kindled the 
 torch of rational, religious liberty. That was then a 
 necessity, and the act was one worthy of renown. Now, in 
 this age of unbelief, there is another kind of renown that 
 might be won, and without any forfeiture of the honour 
 already gained. Let Berlin now add warmth to the light 
 [of rationalism] and thus ennoble the Protestantism of 
 which this city is destined some day to be the capital. The 
 spirit of the present age demands this. In France we see 
 how Catholicism is now rising again. It is surely desirable 
 then, that in Protestantism there should be revived some 
 feeling of religion, and that philosophy itself should follow 
 in the same direction." 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 
 
 THE title of this chapter may seem out of place. It may 
 however be accepted so far as we shall make use of it 
 as an almost arbitrary collective name one in this case 
 applied to a number of writers in the several departments 
 of poetry, history, criticism, and general literature, who 
 made themselves more or less prominent in the course of 
 the time 1805-30, and who were all united by one common 
 tendency. Here those whose writings appeared in the first 
 decennium of the present century are chiefly noticed. 
 Among them were numbered several men to whose theories 
 and sentiments such descriptive terms as " dreamy," 
 " mystical," and " visionary J} have been applied. At the 
 same time it is allowed that one of the leading traits of 
 their school was a tendency toward reverence a wish to 
 restore, either in the indirect form of poetry, or in some 
 way more direct, a general recognition and feeling of 
 religious truth. Among these men the restoration of which 
 Schiller had spoken was actually taking place at that time 
 shortly before his decease when he described it only as 
 desirable.* 
 
 * But why should these men be classed together as belonging to a 
 school called " romantic ?" For English readers the name is mis- 
 leading. Our usage does not correspond witli German uses of some 
 words derived from the stem "Roma." With us the adjective 
 " Eoman " preserves the original sense. German writers apply their 
 term " romanisclie " to the nations speaking languages based on 
 Latin ; and since the literatures of these nations were developed in 
 the course of the Middle Ages, the term " romantisch " is made 
 
348 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 When a large vessel lias been wrecked, and the crew- 
 having escaped in small boats have made themselves 
 dependent on the mercy of the winds and the waves, it is 
 not always easy to discover how many have perished, or on 
 what shores others have landed. So after the wreck of 
 Christian belief that took place almost suddenly in North 
 Germany (1770-1800) many no doubt whose names are 
 unknown were utterly lost as regards the confession to 
 which they had formerly belonged ; others were scattered 
 here and there among the Pietists, including those called 
 Moravians ; and there were doubtless left among those who 
 belonged formally to no confession, many who as private 
 individuals still cherished pious feelings. This consideration 
 makes less surprising the apparently sudden revival of 
 religious sentiment that took place about the beginning of 
 the present century. Religion was not everywhere as much 
 forgotten as it was at Weimar. As a coincidence it may be 
 noticed that this, after the death of Schiller (1805) was no 
 longer the metropolis of literature. The awakening reli- 
 gious sentiment of the time was soon afterwards made more 
 earnest by the circumstances which led to the war of 
 
 equivalent in meaning to mediaeval. Moreover, the same word placed 
 in opposition to "classic" or "antique" serves to denote one of the 
 main distinctions observed in aesthetic criticism. The art of the 
 ancient Greeks is here called " classic " or " antique," and that of 
 mediaeval times is called " romantische " (romantic). In the literature 
 of the Middle Ages are found in France, and Spain, as well as in 
 Germany examples of such stories as in English are called 
 " romantic ;" consequently the term " romantisch " is sometimes 
 employed in the sense of our corresponding word " romantic." 
 Enough of the word which would not be employed here at all, were 
 it not too well established by the usage of many writers on literary 
 history. Its clearest meaning may be shown in the following example 
 of its most frequent use in German : " These writers Bouterwek, 
 the brothers Schlegel, and their followers have spread widely the 
 study of romantic [= ' romantische '] literature especially the 
 study of Provencal, Italian and Spanish poetry ; and with this study 
 has been associated admiration of the social, political and religious 
 institutions of mediaeval times." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 349 
 
 liberation. In literature, religion and philosophy, the moral 
 influence of Fichte's later teaching now made itself felt 
 (pp. 186-8). If the more serious tone of literature and 
 philosophy at this time could be ascribed especially to an 
 individual, that man would be Fichte. 
 
 These considerations might here lead us too far ; for 
 the aim of this chapter is to show briefly how the charac- 
 teristics of the age were reflected in general literature ; 
 especially in poetry and imaginative prose. Of course, no 
 elaborate criticism will here be attempted. It is the 
 common tendency of certain writers that is chiefly to be 
 noticed. Among them it will be convenient to name two or 
 three who, strictly speaking, do not belong to the school. 
 For example, if Jean Paul's name is out of place here, it 
 would be still more out of place anywhere else. If some 
 slight allusion be made to the writings of Heine, it will 
 serve by way of contrast to mark some traits in the poetry 
 of the Komantic School. On the whole, the poetical writers 
 of this school cannot be called great. The highest merit 
 to be ascribed to the brothers Schlegel is claimed by their 
 extensive services in widening the domain of general 
 literature. 
 
 The elder brother, AUGUST WILHELM VON SCHLEGEL 
 (1767-1846), first acquired fame by some specimens of a 
 translation of Dante ; and, soon afterwards, commenced a 
 translation of Shakespeare. At Jena he was united with 
 his brother in the production of a critical journal, " The 
 Athenaeum" (1798), and in writing a series of '''Charac- 
 teristics and Critiques" (1801). He issued a translation of 
 " Calderon's Dramas " in 1 803, and " Garlands of Italian, 
 Spanish, and Portuguese Poetry" in 1804. His lectures on 
 Dramatic Art and Literature were given in Vienna in 1808. 
 Subsequently he devoted his studies with enthusiasm to 
 Oriental, and especially Sanskrit literature. As regards 
 matters of belief, it is chiefly to be noticed, that he wrote 
 with satirical ability against some of the rationalists who 
 meddled with questions of literature and criticism. It has 
 
350 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 been said that lie went over to the Roman Catholic Church ; 
 but this is an error, arising out of his literary association 
 with his brother. 
 
 FRIEDRICH VON SCHLEGEL, the younger brother (1772- 
 1829), gained a reputation by a " History of the Poetry of 
 the Greeks and the Romans," published in 1798. In 1803 
 he went over to the Church of Rome, and, subsequently, his 
 lectures and writings were intended to advocate, more or 
 less directly, the faith which he had embraced. His views 
 in favour of Roman Catholicism are partly found in his 
 treatise " On the Wisdom of the Hindoos," as well as in 
 his " History of Ancient and Modern Literature." His 
 lectures on the " Philosophy of History " were written with 
 religious and political purposes. The best argument con- 
 tained in these lectures is that which exposes the danger of 
 negative reformation ; or, in other words, the inexpediency 
 of destroying old institutions before new ideas are prepared 
 to develop themselves in consistency with the order of 
 society. In the (< History of Ancient and Modern Litera- 
 ture" (1811-12), the author describes its development in 
 connection with the social and religious institutions of 
 various nations and periods. The history of the world of 
 books is thus represented as no pedantic study, but as one 
 intimately connected with the best interests of humanity. 
 As regards the history of literature and general culture, this 
 is an epoch-making book, and is remarkable for its breadth 
 of outline. The religious tendencies of the school were not 
 so well represented by the brothers Schlegel as by their 
 young friend Hardenberg, who in his writings chose the 
 pseudonym Novalis, by which he is generally known. 
 
 FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG was born in 1772. After 
 residing for some time at Jena, he went through a course 
 of study in the mining-school at Freiberg, and prepared 
 himself for the duties of practical life. He was hardly 
 thirty years old when he died. His mind, like his physical 
 constitution, was sensitive and delicate ; and it may be said 
 that his life in this world was mostly spent in meditation on 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 351 
 
 another world. He dreamed of a church that would unite 
 all men as one family, and of a faith that would have for its 
 symbols both art and practical life. He was not content 
 with the internal vision, but, seeking for its realization on 
 earth, he believed that he had found it in the Roman 
 Catholic Church of the Middle Ages. He described that 
 church as the only centre from which a religious life could 
 diffuse its influence through society. To find peace for 
 nations as well as for individuals, we must return, he 
 said, to mediseval institutions. In his unfinished romance, 
 " Heinrich von Of terdingen," he endeavoured to treat the 
 common events of this life as symbols of a higher life ; and 
 in his " Hymns to Night " he wrote of the vague longings 
 or aspirations of the soul as higher and truer than all 
 science and philosophy. His poetry belongs only in part 
 to the school of which he was styled " the prophet." 
 Several of his hymns may be noticed as true and melodious 
 expressions of pious feeling. The following translation of 
 three stanzas may serve as an example : 
 
 " Let me have but Him 
 
 Then while he is mine, 
 
 While my heart no other love, 
 
 Jesu, knows but thine, 
 Hence, away, all thoughts of worldly woe ! 
 Love, and joy and peace are all I know. 
 
 " Let me have but Him 
 Leaving all below, 
 Following where he leads me on, 
 With my Lord I go. 
 
 Let the world a smoother road display ; 
 
 Jesu, from thy path I ne'er will stray. 
 
 " Let me have but Him 
 
 Then when death is near, 
 
 He'll be nearer who for me 
 
 Shed his life-blood dear. 
 All its precious, healing, soothing power 
 I shall know and feel, in life's last hour." 
 
 Critics have found in the poetical writings of Novalis a 
 
352 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 confusion of Catholicism with mysticism and pantheism. It 
 should be added, however, that the sentiments called 
 pantheistic are mostly poetical, and do not indicate any 
 trust in that system of philosophy. A variety more 
 bewildering is seen when we turn to notice the writings 
 of Tieck. 
 
 LUDWIG TIECK, born at Berlin in 1773, was the most 
 prolific and versatile of the imaginative men belonging to 
 the school. He possessed the talents required to make an 
 eminent actor; and the genius he displayed in his tf dramatic 
 readings " was unrivalled in his day. These facts serve to 
 indicate the chief characteristic of his poetical writings. 
 So long as we read, caring for nothing but poetry diver- 
 sified by traits of playful, ironical humour they afford 
 imaginative amusement. But Tieck writes sometimes on 
 questions of the deepest interest; and here he rather 
 suggests than satisfies questions respecting his serious 
 belief. Partly on account of some attacks made on both 
 Rationalism and Lutheranism in his novel, " Sternbald's 
 Wanderings/' it has been supposed that he was a Catholic ; 
 but no direct evidence of his conversion has appeared. No 
 censure is implied when his best imaginative works 
 '' Genoveva," " Phantasus," and " Octavian " are here left 
 unnoticed ; since our aim is to notice his writings merely in 
 their relation to one tendency. In his fictions he introduces 
 here and there religious subjects that should hardly be 
 named in novels and romances ; and thus he set an example 
 too often imitated in later works of fiction. In one of his 
 novels for instance, he gives an imaginative account of a 
 " conversion " that may be called sensational. Here a few 
 poetical sentences may be quoted : 
 
 " Now " says the individual described as a new convert 
 " I could understand the deep voice of lamentation in the 
 forest, on the mountain, and in the murmuring stream. I 
 could hear and understand it now as the voice of the 
 Eternal uttering his sympathy with all his creatures. His 
 voice seemed sounding from every wave of the river, and 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 353 
 
 whispering from every leaf and twig of the forest. All 
 things around me seemed to rebuke me for my past cold, 
 unbelieving, and indolent existence. I thought at once of 
 the past and of the future. Every thought was a prayer, 
 and my heart was melted down to one feeling of devotion. 
 I plunged into the deepest recesses of the wood, and gave 
 free vent to my tears/' 
 
 This excitement subsides, and the new convert is 
 described as wandering on until he reaches a desolate 
 landscape, where no tree, not even a shrub, casts a shade 
 all around. There is scarcely a patch of grass on the dry, 
 white soil of limestone ; as far as the eye can travel, solitary 
 blocks or massive groups of limestone are seen, some 
 splintered by frost, so as to resemble rudely forms of men, 
 cattle, and houses. It is a confusing and wearisome 
 prospect. There is graphic power in this description of 
 scenery, which is made as it were sympathetic with the 
 sense of desolation soon following religious excitement. 
 The supposed convert now speaks thus of the change in his 
 sentiments : 
 
 " Here I rested awhile, and gazed all around me on the 
 scene of desolation, and then upwards to the dark-blue sky. 
 A strange alteration of thoughts and feelings came upon me 
 here. I cannot in any words express how entirely, how 
 suddenly, every sentiment of belief, every noble, inspiring 
 thought, vanished died away and left me utterly dis- 
 consolate. I cannot tell you how nature, the whole creation, 
 and man, its greatest problem with all his marvellous 
 powers and all his weakness and pitiable dependence on 
 these external elements were now changed for me ; how 
 hopeless and dreary, nay, how absurd and contemptible all 
 things now appeared to me to me who had so lately seen 
 all things as arrayed in a new, celestial light ! I could not 
 repress my scorn I could not control myself ; but gave 
 vent to a cynical despairing laugh at the whole world, as I 
 now saw it. There was no immortal soul; nothing but 
 absurdity, objectless existence, and miserable delusion in all 
 
 23 
 
354 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 that creeps, swims, or flies ; and, most of all, in this head of 
 mine " the crown of the visible creation, forsooth ! " 
 
 The aim of this chapter is nothing more than to indi- 
 cate the one general characteristic of the writers called 
 ' ' romantic." Several among them were Catholics 
 Brentano, Eichendorff, Gorres, Werner, Adam Miiller, and 
 Ludwig Haller some might be described as men for whom 
 mediaeval institutions were but a sort of poetical furniture ; 
 and there were others whose religious views were almost as 
 indefinite as those we may ascribe to Tieck ; yet in all of 
 them is found something like a tendency toward a revival of 
 religious thought and feeling ; and this is the more remark- 
 able, as in some instances the writer seems hardly conscious 
 of the idea by which his mind is controlled. (t Religion has 
 been slain " says one of the most eccentric men of this 
 time " and now her ghost seems to haunt the minds of 
 men." 
 
 If JEAN PAUL does not belong to the school of writers 
 called romantic, his writings belong partly to their time, 
 and express here and there, at least their religious and 
 patriotic tendencies. He was at once a rationalist and a 
 mystic ; though such a connection of opposites may seem 
 impossible. In his boyhood he was pious ; but, like Schiller, 
 he was a sceptic in his youth. In later life he wished that 
 his son might be educated by Paulus, an eminent rationalist. 
 The difference sometimes described as existing between 
 " the heart and the head " feelings and opinions is more 
 than usually observable in the writings of Jean Paul ; and 
 he was not utterly unconscious of the fact. " Deep 
 sorrows," he tells us, "outlive all consolations; and 
 religious sentiments outlive all refutations of our early 
 belief." There can be given here no critical account of his 
 stories, which have lost the popularity they once enjoyed. 
 Of all their traits one of the most attractive is their genial 
 youthfulness of sentiment ; and still more amiable is their 
 sympathy with the poor and the afflicted. They contain 
 valuable remarks on domestic, especially maternal, education; 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 355 
 
 and here and there are found passages of earnest admonition, 
 like the following : 
 
 " At midnight, when the old year was departing, there stood at his 
 window an old man, looking forth with an aspect of despair on the calm 
 never-fading heavens, and on the pure, white and quiet earth, where 
 there seemed to exist then no creature so sleepless and so miserable 
 as himself. Now near the grave, this old man had, as the results of 
 his long career, nothing but errors, sins and disease a shattered 
 body, a desolated soul, a poisoned heart, and an age of remorse. 
 The beautiful years of his youth were all changed into dismal goblins, 
 shrinking away now to hide themselves from the dawn of another new 
 year. . . . In his unutterable grief, he looked up towards the heavens; 
 but soon looked down again on the fields surrounding a neighbouring 
 church. Misguiding lights gleamed forth out of the marsh, and faded 
 away in the churchyard. 'There are my days of folly!' he said. 
 Then a shooting star fell from heaven, flickered vanished. ' That is 
 myself!' said he, while the fangs of remorse were biting into his 
 bleeding heart. . . . He covered his face with his hands, and tears 
 streamed down his cheeks, while he sighed ; ' Oh, give me back my 
 youth !'.... And his youth returned. He was suddenly awakened 
 how glad to find, that his terror had been caused by a dream ; that 
 he had still time left, and could still repent of the sins of his youth." 
 
 Expressions of religious sentiment found in the romantic 
 writers are often mingled with ideas that may be called 
 mystical, or even fantastic. The pervading tone is more 
 distinct and earnest, when we turn to notice the songs and 
 other appeals to the people, called forth by the impending 
 war of liberation. It was a time made glorious by self- 
 sacrifice. Youths that could hardly be called more than 
 boys, and grey-haired men, old enough to claim exemption 
 from military service, now came forth to devote their lives. 
 Wives, sisters and mothers encouraged the men as they 
 marched to battle, carried ammunition and provisions, 
 and in some instances, armed themselves and fought 
 bravely. For once in the history of the world, philosophy 
 and practice, poetry and reality, were united in this contest. 
 The universities were made schools of patriotism ; Fichte 
 gave to his idealism a national and practical purport; 
 Schleiermacher, as the representative of theology, came to 
 
 23 * 
 
356 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 the front, and the imaginative man of science, Steffens, 
 served in the army and gained the distinction of the Iron 
 Cross. Poetry numbered among its patriotic representatives 
 Arndt and Schenkendorf, Korner and Kiickert. The poet 
 of national liberty, Schiller, though dead, was yet speaking. 
 " Youths carried into the struggle the enthusiasm kindled 
 by his poetry ; his songs were on their lips." Every regiment 
 had its volunteers, and among these one of the most fervent 
 was Korner, who fell in one of the earliest skirmishes (1813). 
 Not only such bold and restless spirits as were led 011 by 
 Korner, but also men of a quiet and pious character shared 
 in the enthusiasm of the time. Schenkendorf, who wrote 
 also soothing and Christian poetry, was the author of several 
 patriotic songs, including that beginning with 
 
 " Awaken ! from the dust 
 Arise, ye sleepers all !" 
 
 ERNST MORITZ ARNDT, who died (1860) at the age of 
 ninety, must not be forgotten. His words were often too 
 fierce, and, at the present time, we can hardly read them 
 with approval. But no cold and unreal criticism must be 
 applied to burning words kindled by an intolerable sense of 
 oppression. He might have taken for his motto the words 
 of Juvenal ft Be a good soldier ! " Thus Arndt begins a 
 song on the right use of iron in times of bondage : 
 
 " The God who made the iron ore 
 
 Will have no man a slave ; 
 To arm the man's right hand for war 
 
 The sword and the spear He gave, 
 And He gives to us a daring heart, 
 
 And for burning words the breath 
 To tell the foemen that we fear 
 
 Dishonour more than death." 
 
 FRIEDRICH KUCKERT, who died in 1866, nearly eighty 
 years old, is hardly remembered now as one of the writers 
 of war-songs in 1813-14; for when the war was ended he 
 turned away from politics, and devoted the rest of his life 
 to poetry and the study of oriental literature. The quietude 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 357 
 
 of his domestic life is reflected in his writings. He was a 
 true poet, and one never weary of writing on his favourite 
 themes the transitions of a peaceful life. In his meditative 
 work, " the Wisdom of the Brahman/' he is mostly didactic; 
 and here and there humorous, as when he thus notices the 
 despotic claims of modern science : 
 
 " A time will come," they say, " when poetry will be play 
 For babies, and the boys will throw vain rhymes away, 
 And give their whole attention to science deep and clear, 
 And all things will be manly, scientific and severe. 
 Humanity will then its flag of victory wave 
 And, thank God ! I shall then be sleeping in the grave." 
 
 For his purity of sentiment Riickert deserves high com- 
 mendation, and occasionally he can blend with an unpretend- 
 ing parable a true lesson of religious philosophy, as in the 
 following example : 
 
 " A father and his son are wandering far from home ; 
 Late in the night along a lonely moor they roam. 
 On every rock and tree and o'er the dismal plain, 
 For guidance through the gloom, the boy looks forth in vain ; 
 Meanwhile the old man looks upon the heavens alone. 
 ' How can our path on earth among the stars be shown ? ' 
 ' Hocks, trees and lonely moor tell nothing of the way ;' 
 From heaven the pole-star sheds a faint but steady ray, 
 And shows the safe road home 'Tis good to trust in One ; 
 To find your path on earth, look up to heaven, my son." 
 
 LUDWIG UHLAND (1487-1862) wrote in pure and simple 
 language poetry that may be associated with the best 
 productions of the writers called romantic. Like them he 
 introduces the traits of mediaeval scenery such as castles 
 looking down from crags upon rivers, valleys, and towns of 
 quaint architecture. He can suggest a deep thought while 
 he tells a simple story, and can leave half-uttered, yet 
 indicated, a pathos "too deep for tears/' A few of his 
 poems may be called dreamy; but their tone is often 
 religious, while their truth is indirectly conveyed. In one 
 ballad, for example, we are led into a weird enchanted 
 forest; and here the warriors who have escaped from all 
 
358 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 perils of open battle are overcome just when they see 
 nothing to be feared. In another lone forest, a distant 
 tolling of bells calls up thoughts of a faith long 
 forgotten ; and we are led on to a secluded sanctuary where 
 religion, elsewhere unknown, has still a dwelling place. 
 One is tempted to say much of Uhland ; for in several of his 
 poems we find the true reverential spirit that breathes 
 through the following simple verses. Here the scenery is 
 an open plain, where on Sunday a lonely shepherd is 
 praying : 
 
 " This is the Lord's own day. 
 
 Out on the lonely plain I hear 
 A far-off chiming die away ; 
 All's silent far and near. 
 
 " 1 kneel upon the green, 
 
 And, with a thrill of holy fear, 
 I feel that multitudes unseen 
 Are praying with me here ; 
 
 And heaven so pure and clear 
 So solemn, near, and far away 
 Seems opening all around me here. 
 This is the Lord's own day." 
 
 Next to Uhland may be named his friend, the humorous 
 mystic and visionary JUSTINUS KERNER (1786-1862). His 
 poetical merits hardly demand notice ; but his name serves 
 to introduce some notice of a tendency partly belonging to 
 other writers of his time. He was as it were haunted by 
 his belief, that " incursions from the ghostly world" to 
 use his own words " take place in our real life." The 
 tone of his verses was often melancholy ; yet his grief 
 was but light when compared with that expressed in the 
 poetry of his friend LENAU. This name of an Austrian poet 
 who was educated as a Catholic suggests a question too 
 serious to be discussed here ; and it would not be mentioned 
 even, if the case to which it immediately refers could fairly 
 be called solitary. Lenau mostly ascribes to scepticism his 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 359 
 
 own mental sufferings, and the ultimate total eclipse of his 
 mind. Thus he writes in one place : 
 
 " A fool, in early life I strayed away, 
 Far from my home the paradise of faith 
 I've lost my way ; and never can return." 
 
 The folly that here, as in many places, he ascribes 'to 
 himself was the study of philosophy so much in vogue 
 among young students in his day. In his case, as in many 
 others, metaphysics led to nothing save bewilderment and 
 despair. This he often confesses ; for example in lines 
 like these : 
 
 " Our reason, in the hour of need, 
 
 Will leave us in despair ; 
 There's but one way the soul to lead 
 To God and that is prayer." 
 
 ADALBERT VON CHAMISSO (1781-1838) was a native of 
 France, whose parents were driven from their native land 
 by the revolution. He was, during his boyhood, a page in 
 the service of the Queen of Prussia ; and afterwards became 
 a lieutenant in the army. When the war of liberation began, 
 he felt that he could fight neither against his native land, 
 nor against the land that was now his home. Fortunately 
 he was soon engaged to accompany an expedition in a 
 voyage round the world. One of the best of his poems was 
 suggested by a story heard during a cruise in the Pacific. 
 On a lone and bare reef, known as Salas y Gomez, some 
 remains of a wrecked vessel had been found. "It was 
 terrible," says the poet, "to think that here one solitary 
 man had been left alive ; for the eggs of sea-fowl are rather 
 plentiful ; and might too long serve to support his existence 
 on this bare, sunburnt crag, where sea and sky alone are 
 visible." The poem founded on this supposition tells how a 
 solitary old man left on the rock wrestles with his grief. 
 He writes on slaty tablets brief memoranda of his hopes 
 and his gradual despair all the transitions of his feelings. 
 A sail appears, like a white speck on the horizon ; it comes 
 nearer still nearer ; and hope springs up once more in the 
 
360 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 
 
 breast of the cast-away. But soon the sail fades away from 
 his strained vision. Ocean, sky, wailing sea-birds are once 
 more all his world. Then follows his deepest despair. At 
 last it is transmuted into submission. He looks up to the 
 constellation of the Southern Cross, shining on the deep. 
 That sign suggests resignation ; and thus he concludes his 
 confession : 
 
 " The tempest that within me raved has pass'd ; 
 Here, where so long I've suffered, all alone, 
 I will lie down in peace and breathe my last. 
 
 Let not another sail come near this stone 
 
 Until all sighs and tears have pass'd away ! 
 Why should I long to go, a man unknown, 
 
 To see my childhood's home, and there to stray, 
 Without a welcome or kind look, and find 
 That all my dear old friends are 'neath the clay ? 
 
 Lord ! by thy grace, my soul, to thee resigned, 
 Let me breathe forth in peace, and let me sleep 
 Here, where thy Cross shines calmly o'er the deep." 
 
 It is not easy to define strictly the time when the influence 
 of the Romantic School passed away ; but it will not be far 
 wrong if the year 1830 be fixed as a limit. Political and 
 social questions were then made prominent ; and Heine, with 
 other young writers sometimes associated under the name 
 of "Young Germany" gained a considerable notoriety. 
 Extreme liberal opinions were now asserted. Borne, an 
 Israelite by birth, called loudly for a political revolution, and 
 Heine went further in his notions of social revolution. 
 The former wrote "Letters from Paris," of which the 
 import may be given in a few words : " We must have a 
 revolution, and it must take place immediately/' He was 
 sincere and earnest; but patience, as he confessed, was not 
 numbered among his virtues. In one of his declamatory 
 passages, his fervour thus bursts forth in an odd form of 
 prayer : 
 
 " O Patience ! Queen of the German People and of 
 tortoises ! Patroness of my poor, languishing native land ! 
 Germanize me, Goddess ! from the sole of my foot to the 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 361 
 
 crown of tny head, and then stow me away in a museum of 
 old curiosities and in a case filled with the most singular 
 petrifactions ! I vow that, henceforth, I will be thy most 
 faithful servant. I will regularly peruse ' The Dresden 
 Evening News/ and all the theatrical criticisms. Yes, I 
 will read Hegel until I understand what he means, and I 
 will stand, in rainy weather and without an umbrella, in 
 front of the hall where the German Diet is assembled, and 
 there I will wait patiently until somebody comes out and 
 proclaims the freedom of the press. " 
 
 The fervour of this petition is partly humorous, but tells 
 something true of the time ; at least of the feelings spread 
 among many hasty young men . They professed no reverence 
 for the institutions of their native land. Democratic move- 
 ments, that for some time had prevailed in certain " Unions 
 of Students," had now become more negative. In 1817 
 their festival had something like a religious character ; but 
 in later years it was found impossible to unite their voices 
 in singing even one Lutheran hymn so great and manifold, 
 they said, were their differences of belief ! To tell more of 
 their movements might lead us too far into German politics. 
 Of Heine eminent as a lyrical poet some further account 
 may be given. 
 
 HUINEICH HEINE, an Israelite, was born in 1799 (or, as 
 some say, in 1800). His studies, begun at Bonn under the 
 guidance of the elder Schlegel, were concluded at Gottingen, 
 where, in 1825, he first made a profession of Christianity. 
 Later he visited England, where, said he, "the machines 
 are so clever they are like men, and the men are machines." 
 In 1831 he went to Paris, and here was engaged as a 
 political and literary contributor to several journals. In 
 1837 he received from the French government a pension, 
 which was taken away in 1848. The remainder of his life 
 was a long illness ; but he retained the full use of his mental 
 faculties, and for the most part was actively engaged in 
 literature. 
 
 Heine has been celebrated as one of the most audacious 
 
362 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and out-spoken of unbelieving men. No man of his 
 lime uttered more profane words against the Christian 
 religion ; and few spoke more licentiously of social 
 institutions. His leading qualities were wit, humour, 
 poetic feeling, irony, vivacity and malice. So great was 
 his love of opposition, that it is impossible to define with 
 certainty what he believed. There are found in his writings 
 passages so irreverent and cynical that they cannot be 
 quoted; yet, strange to say, there are found also some 
 passages of Christian sentiment. Among the latter one is 
 especially remarkable; and suggests the thought, that it 
 might possibly be written only to display the writer's 
 versatility. Next to this quality, the most prominent trait 
 of his genius is the graphic individuality of his shorter 
 poems. Some are like portraits ; others are like finished 
 genre pictures. His diction is simple, yet forcible ; he can 
 tell a story well in a few words ; and the melody of some of 
 his lyrical poems is perfect. Strong antithesis and bold 
 transition are the most striking features of his style. 
 
 The most remarkable trait in his biography remains to be 
 noticed. He could treat religion with contempt ; yet could 
 not forget it. Negation, love of conflict, and discontent 
 these were the elements of his character ; and often, in the 
 course of his long illness, he seemed to be waiting to hear 
 again some uproar of revolution; yet at this time he was 
 still haunted as it were by serious thoughts of religion. He 
 expressed, on several occasions, regret for such passages 
 in his writings as might seem favourable to atheism or 
 pantheism, or might give offence by their want of reve- 
 rence. He declared that, though he could not accept the 
 creed of any church, he had returned, at last, to a belief 
 that might be called deism in other words, he believed in 
 a personal God. Of the immortality of the soul he said, 
 that he felt himself compelled to believe it, though his 
 understanding was opposed to it. " The ' horror vacui " 
 formerly ascribed to nature/' said Heine, " belongs rather 
 to the human soul." In accordance with his request, 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 363 
 
 passages from tlie Bible were sometftnes read at his bed- 
 side. " Where health, wealth, and the understanding fail, 
 there/' said he, " Christianity begins.-" The sincerity of 
 this recantation has been doubted. Some light is cast on it 
 by a passage in his last will and testament, bearing the date 
 1851. Here he says : 
 
 " I die believing in one sole God, the eternal Creator of 
 the world, whose mercy I implore for my immortal soul. I 
 regret that in my works I have sometimes written on holy 
 subjects without the reverence that belongs to them. In 
 doing so I was hurried along more by the spirit of the age 
 than by my own inclination." 
 
 The life that seemed ending in 1851 was prolonged for 
 nearly five years after that time. When his last hour was 
 approaching, he was told plainly that death was near ; and 
 this, we are assured, was his reply : " Soyez tranquille ! 
 Dieu me pardonnera; c'est son metier." He died February 
 16, 1856. 
 
 It is indeed strange to find among the poems written by 
 Heine one like the following already referred to which is 
 entitled " Peace." The original form is an irregular metre 
 without rhyme, which can hardly be well represented in any 
 strict form of translation : 
 
 " The clouds were white that all around the sun 
 Were glistening, and his softened noonday rays 
 O'er land and sea were spread ; the sea was calm. 
 Awake yet dreaming, on the deck I lay, 
 When looking up I suddenly beheld 
 A glorious form in flowing robes arrayed, 
 Snow-white and radiant, and with hands outspread 
 In benediction over land and sea. 
 That glowing noonday sun was now for me 
 Christ's heart of burning love, and thence did flow 
 The light and love and joy of all the world below. 
 From towers and spires unseen the bells were pealing, 
 Solemnly, sweetly, over the land and the sea ; 
 And, as in a dream, their melody, gently stealing 
 Over the water, invited us all to the shore, 
 To a land where rose the towers and spires whose bells 
 
364 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Were calling us home, by their soft, melodious pealing 
 To a land of rest, of hallowed, deep repose, 
 Where hushed was every noise of earthly life ; 
 And here came walking men arrayed in white, 
 Each bearing in his hand a palm ; and when 
 They met each other, there was heard no voice 
 Of salutation ; for a sign could show 
 What all believed and loved ; and all as one 
 Looked up to the heart of Christ the glowing sun 
 Whose light and warmth o'er land and sea were shed j 
 And all with voices blending meekly said, 
 * For ever blessed be thy name, O Jesu.' " 
 
 This quotation must be- the last of our excerpts from 
 poetry ; and writers later than Heine must be briefly 
 noticed. Little more needs be said of ( ' Young Germany ;" 
 for the school so-called was soon dissolved, and the men 
 who once belonged to it did not care to represent its 
 revolutionary doctrines in their later writings. Among 
 them the most earnest and laborious author is KARL 
 GUTZKOW, who has not rested content with the work of 
 demolition, but has endeavoured to build up something; 
 though unfortunately he builds in a way that must be called 
 fictitious. This is especially the case in his " Eitter vom 
 Geiste," a romance in nine volumes. Here he asserts that 
 Christianity is an extinct religion, while he describes 
 modern society as a structure founded on the sand of an 
 egotistic conservatism. The social reformation he desires to 
 see is to be introduced he tells us by a new brotherhood 
 of men, who may be described as Templars of a new order. 
 Their aim is to found an intellectual democracy; but 
 their doctrine is hardly more than a revival of the vague 
 cosmopolitan philanthropy popular in the eighteenth 
 century. 
 
 Since 1830 almost every tendency of thought in religion 
 and politics has been represented in poetry. Of the poets 
 whose views may be called pantheistic only one can be 
 named LEOPOLD SCHEFER (1784-1862). His vague pan- 
 theism and his unreal optimism are both expressed in his 
 "Layman's Breviary" a book that has been rather popular. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL, ETC. 365 
 
 The cheerful tone of many passages, and the good moral 
 lessons here and there mingled with pantheistic dreamery, 
 have recommended the writer's didactic verses to many 
 sentimental readers who do not well understand his general 
 tendency. His worship of nature is sometimes made 
 attractive by means of original and poetical illustrations ; 
 but his religion is after all little more than the result of his 
 own healthfulness, his musical temperament, and last, not 
 least his easy circumstances. He knew but little of the 
 cares and vexations that beset ordinary men. If his life had 
 been more practical, and his naturalistic faith more severely 
 tried, then his joyous and almost child-like optimism might 
 have demanded respect j or at least would have been 
 regarded as a marvellous phenomenon. 
 
 The minor poets of our time are too numerous to be 
 mentioned here. Their best productions are lyrical, and 
 among them are found many of which the general, indirect 
 tendency is good. If space would allow, many of these 
 writers might here be commended among them HEBEL and 
 GROTH, who have employed German dialects in their poems 
 for the people ; also FREILIGRATH and several Austrian 
 writers ; and we must at least name ADOLF STOBER, KARL 
 SIMROCK, JULIUS STURM, J. P. LANGE, and BMANUEL GEIBEL. 
 Since 1830 the current of poetical literature has on several 
 occasions been diverted from its true course by the 
 disturbing influence of political strife. The war-poetry of 
 1848 was deplorable; and the war of 1870 led hardly to any 
 better results of an imaginative description. 
 
 In accordance with our first intention but little has been 
 said of hymns intended for use in public worship ; and if a 
 word is said here, it will have respect only to one point, 
 having some general historical interest. On the whole, the 
 tendency of hymn- writers has in the course of time become 
 more and more subjective. They dwell now more on their 
 own sentiments than on any objects of faith. The truth of 
 this remark may be indicated by means of reference to a 
 few names. Going back to mediaeval times : how clearly 
 
366 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 objective is the character of " the Holy Land " one of the 
 best of the lyrical poems by Walther von der Yogelweide. A 
 like character is observable in many of the lowly verses 
 of the Master Singers, and in many of the hymns written 
 in the time of Hans Sachs. Already, in the seventeenth 
 century, a subjective tone, though cheerful, is heard in 
 Gerhardt; and Angelus Silesius is mystical. Tersteegen - 
 writing on the eve of the rationalistic period is still partly 
 mystical ; but when rationalism is spreading itself all around 
 him, Gellert one of the best men of his time writes dry 
 didactic verses, and then calls them hymns. In later days 
 we have seen that Novalis though his tendencies are 
 Catholic is still subjective, especially in the tone of his 
 most popular hymns ; and numerous like examples may be 
 found in the hymn-writers of our own time. In general 
 outlines like these, we see the historical truth of the con- 
 clusion that on the whole, or in the long run, general 
 literature but especially poetry tells something important 
 respecting the religious and national life of a people. As 
 faith decays, so poetry must decay. All studies that are 
 ideal and humanizing are closely united together. The 
 Christian Religion has long been the home and the centre 
 of all idealism. If this religion be destroyed, modern Ger- 
 many will be left in a condition that has hardly ever existed, 
 since civilization first was spread in the world. Men will 
 be left without any ideal toward which to aspire. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 IT is not easy to express strongly enough, our sense of 
 difficulty in approaching the subject to be treated in this 
 chapter the advance supposed to be made by mysticism 
 and speculative philosophy toward a reconciliation with 
 historical religion. To say nothing of the difficulty inherent 
 in the theme itself it is a fact, that in English no clear and 
 well-defined terms exist as commonly accepted, by which 
 processes of metaphysical thought can be so denoted, as to 
 be generally understood. 
 
 One of our firmest words as regards its preservation of 
 a useful and self-consistent meaning or common acceptation 
 is the word " understanding." Let it be granted, that 
 this term shall not serve, as in Locke's Essay, to include all 
 knowledge derived from experience and reflexion ; but here 
 shall specially denote one process manifold in its appli- 
 cations, yet always essentially the same the process by 
 which definite notions, however derived, as regards their 
 materials, are compared and classified, as like or unlike ; 
 accordant or contradictory, and so forth. Let this in the 
 first place be granted j and now it may be said with some 
 clearness, that the chief dispute between Kant's philosophy 
 and that afterwards called ' ' speculative " relates to " his 
 limitations cf the understanding." Are its rules and con- 
 clusions valid ; or such as correspond to realities " things 
 as they are in themselves " ? This is the main question 
 proposed by Kant. 
 
368 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Philosophy is not what certain scientific men have sup- 
 posed it to be " one of the special sciences." It is a study 
 of sequence and union, as existing among the general ideas 
 that govern all the sciences. A familiar example will make 
 clear the point where we leave science and enter the domain 
 of philosophy ; and the same example will show where we 
 transgress the boundary-line drawn by Kant. 
 
 A student is engaged in making experiments relating to 
 electricity. First of all he takes for granted that glass will 
 not conduct the force. He goes on to observe that it is 
 conducted by iron, gold, silver, copper, and indeed by all 
 the metals hitherto discovered. It is therefore concluded, 
 that all metals are conductors of electricity ; for in science 
 in a case like the present " many " may often serve 
 safely to represent "all." The process leading to the 
 conclusion is inductive ; but the basis assumed throughout 
 is an idea of analogy a belief that reason essentially like 
 our own prevails in the plans of nature. 
 
 So far the student has been engaged in the pursuit of 
 physical science. He now turns to consider how far that 
 idea of analogy is well founded. He reflects, or thinks of 
 thoughts. He compares and classifies them, as men of 
 science classify metals, plants, and animals. That idea of 
 analogy, he finds, is well founded in our understanding ; 
 but its application, he adds, must always be kept within the 
 bounds of our experience. We must not think that because 
 we observe certain analogies within the bounds of our 
 experience, the general idea may be understood as a law 
 pervading the universe, and displaying the mind of a 
 Supreme Being. We can know, says Kant, nothing of 
 ideas transcending the bounds of our understanding and 
 experience ; consequently we know nothing of God (p. 153), 
 of an absolute, infinite mind. That which we know is 
 limited by the bounds of our own mind ; that is to say, by 
 our human understanding. This is the first principle of the 
 philosophy called "subjective." Its conclusions are all 
 restricted by the limitations defined by Kant (p. 179). 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 369 
 
 On the contrary it is maintained that thought is not 
 thus purely " subjective " is not thus narrowly restricted 
 but is at once subjective and objective. The develop- 
 ment of this proposition, if supported by dialectic reason, 
 is called " speculative philosophy." If, however, the same 
 truth is merely asserted, or is supported only by appeals 
 to intuition, sentiment, and personal conviction, the same 
 substantial proposition that one infinite mind pervades 
 and informs the thoughts of finite minds is now called 
 "mysticism." It should be added, however, that this last 
 term is often somewhat loosely applied. For instance, a 
 man may accept several tenets called mysterious ; and yet 
 escape the charge of mysticism so long as he holds himself 
 aloof from controversy ; but if he comes forward to defend 
 his belief, and then finds himself driven to appeal for 
 support to the strength of his own convictions, he will be 
 stigmatized as a " mystic/' This was especially the case 
 with Jacobi and his two friends, Hamann and Lavater 
 (pp. 121, 127, 143). These discursive remarks may throw, 
 perhaps, some light on certain uses of the words " philo- 
 sophy," "subjective/' "objective," and "speculative;" 
 lastly, on some uses of the word " mysticism." It will be 
 understood, however, that here no attempt will be made, 
 either to " make easy " or to recommend any study of the 
 great question opened by Kant. That would lead to 
 speculative philosophy a study of which no faithful and 
 adequate analysis can ever be made popular. " Est philo- 
 sophiapaucis contenta judicibus, multitudinem consulto ipsa 
 fugiens, eique ipsi et suspecta et invisa ; ut vel si quis 
 universam velit vituperare, secundo id populo facera 
 possit."* 
 
 The question may naturally suggest itself here Why 
 should a system of philosophy be even named in this place, 
 if no logical account of it is to be given ? The answer must 
 have the shape of an historical fact. In the course of the 
 time 1805-30, there took place, in philosophy as in general 
 
 * Cicero ; Tusc. Qusest. ii. 1. 
 
 24 
 
370 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 literature, a movement which as generally understood 
 had some tendency toward reconciliation with the chief 
 tenets of positive religion. It is one thing to go through a 
 course of thinking, and another to know its results. Now 
 among these results one which was the most important 
 agreed fairly, it was said, with the faith still retained by 
 some intelligent men. It was asserted that philosophy now 
 agreed well with the common sense of many plain men who 
 cared more or less for the practical interests of religion. 
 They were men who still believed as their ancestors had done 
 for many centuries before the time when Hume and Kant 
 came to make a puzzle of all faith. Old-fashioned people still 
 believed that religion might partly be known as to its first 
 principles by intuitive reason; that is to say, they could 
 know certain truths, even if left without any exterior aid, 
 borrowed either from the teaching of the Church, or from 
 the Bible. These plain men they still represent millions 
 held for example, as a tenet belonging to their natural 
 theology, the first principle authoritatively declared in 
 Scripture: " He that cometh to GOD must believe that he 
 is-, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek 
 him (Heb. xi. 6). 
 
 The validity of this faith was fully admitted by the 
 ff speculative " opponents of Kant. They granted that 
 insight, without the aid of reflexion, could know truth. 
 Jacobi had previously asserted in other words the same 
 conviction : that divine truth might be felt in the heart, 
 and known by intuition ; and indeed had been so known in 
 all ages. The same principle was more abstrusely expressed 
 by means of certain metaphysical terms by which many 
 have been sorely puzzled especially by those two words, 
 " subject" and " object." It was now said, in the language 
 of the " speculative " school, that reason was not confined 
 by such limitations as were defined by Kant ; but was at 
 once " subjective " and te objective." 
 
 Kepler once thought that the true movements of the 
 planets might possibly be discovered, if it were first 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 371 
 
 assumed that they were accordant with certain mathematical 
 ratios. Had he proceeded no further in the evolution of 
 his ideas now called "laws" they might as fine guesses 
 have excited admiration; but would have been classed with 
 " subjective ideas ;" such as may indeed, or even must so 
 Kant says of certain ideas be entertained by the mind, 
 though it cannot be shown that they correspond truly with 
 any movements taking place in real objects. But Kepler 
 went on with his calculations, firmly believing that his 
 ideas were at once "subjective" and "objective" in a 
 word true and the observations of centuries have shown 
 that he was right. His confidence was not self-confidence, 
 but was equivalent to a faith in reason, which for him was a 
 light of which the source was divine. But we turn from 
 astronomy to ethics, if we would see the importance of 
 the distinction marked by the words "subjective" and 
 " objective." 
 
 Kant's teaching is subjective, as regards both ethics and 
 religion. The language of his opponents, when they were 
 ringing changes on " subject," " object," and other hard, 
 metaphysical terms, was indeed tedious and mysterious; 
 but their words had a serious meaning. In England the 
 few who cared for philosophy were especially made butts of 
 ridicule. Coleridge, for example, was in his way one of the 
 chief martyrs of philosophy. Carlyle has made his great 
 contemporary appear ridiculous and pitiable ; though there 
 are some better traits in the portraiture of which a specimen 
 may be given : 
 
 " He was thought to hold " says Carljle " the key of German and 
 other transcendentalisms ; knew the sublime secret of believing by 
 the 'reason' what the 'understanding ' had been obliged to fling out 
 as incredible; and could still, after Hume and Voltaire had done 
 their best and worst with him, profess himself an orthodox Christian, 
 and say and print to the Church of England, with its singular old 
 rubrics and surplices at Allhallowtide, ' Esto perpetua.' A sublime 
 man ; who alone in those dark days had saved his crown of spiritual 
 manhood; escaped from the black materialisms, and revolutionary 
 deluges, with ' God,' ' freedom,' immortality still his : a king of men* 
 
 24 * 
 
372 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The practical intellects of the world did not much heed him, or 
 carelessly reckoned him a metaphysical dreamer ; but to the rising 
 spirits of the young generation, he had this dusky sublime character ; 
 and sat there as a kind of Magus, girt in mystery and enigma." [The 
 writer next describes a visit to Coleridge's home at Highgate ; and 
 then goes on with the portraiture.] " He would perhaps take you to 
 his own peculiar room, high up, with a rearward view, which was the 
 chief view of all a really charming outlook, in fine weather. Here 
 for hours would Coleridge talk concerning all conceivable or incon- 
 ceivable things ; and liked nothing better than to have an intelligent, 
 or failing that, even a silent and patient human listener. He distin- 
 guished himself to all that ever heard him as at least the most sur- 
 prising talker extant in this world and to some small minority, by 
 no means to all, as the most excellent. Brow and head were round, 
 and of massive weight. The deep eyes of a light hazel were as full 
 of sorrow as of inspiration; confused pain looked mildly from them, 
 as in a kind of mild astonishment. A heavy-laden, high-aspiring, and 
 surely much-suffering man. His voice, naturally soft and good, had 
 contracted itself into a plaintive snuffle and sing-song ; he spoke as if 
 preaching you would have said preaching earnestly and also hope- 
 lessly the weightiest things. I still recollect his ' object ' and * subject,' 
 terms of continual recurrence in the Kantean province ; and how 
 he sung and snuffled them into ' om-m-mject ' and ' sum-m-mject,' 
 with a kind of solemn shake or quaver, as he rolled along." 
 
 Why should Carlyle contribute the aid of his sarcastic 
 humour, in order to associate the notions of intuition and 
 nonsense ? That had been already done well enough, when 
 Schelling of whose views Coleridge was talking admitted 
 that faith was his first principle. He asserted that the idea 
 of God was inseparably united with our implied belief in 
 his existence. On this faith said the philosopher all our 
 religious knowledge is founded. It was replied by Kant's 
 disciples: that "having the idea of 100 and having the 
 cash are two distinct things/' This telling remark was at 
 once received as a verdict ; and for the most part it still 
 remains unquestioned. It is tacitly assumed that existence 
 as ascribed in one case to the Infinite, and in the other to a 
 sum of money, is one and the same predicate ; and that 
 among all possible examples of reality the best is gold. 
 This is the one orthodox creed of millions ; but why should 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 373 
 
 a man who did not hold it be persecuted ; or made to appear 
 ridiculous ? Why should the terminology he employed be 
 treated as ludicrous, because it was not understood by his 
 visitor ? Coleridge was treating a question of vital interest 
 to every thoughtful man a question then earnestly discussed, 
 as one that Hume and Kant had made inevitable. Of all 
 the positions ever maintained by philosophy, in opposition 
 to religious faith, the strongest was that held by Kant. 
 The first aim of his opponents was not to puzzle men of 
 plain common sense ; but to correct error in minds already 
 led far astray by metaphysical inquiry. Accordingly it was 
 not absurd to use for this purpose the exposure of meta- 
 physical error such concise and convenient terms as 
 " subjective " and " objective." These are words frequently 
 employed by clear and able writers on ethics and theology, 
 whether Catholic or Protestant. They are terms correctly 
 used by Baur, a rationalist Protestant, and by the Catholic 
 author, Mohler, in their controversy on the respective bases 
 of their opposite confessions. Dorner, in his learned 
 " History of Protestant Theology," frequently introduces 
 the same scholastic terms. Their use and importance will 
 most readily be shown when we turn to notice finally the 
 ethical position maintained by Kant. 
 
 When independence and finality are claimed for Kant's 
 system of ethics (p. 169) the position is defined as "sub- 
 jectjve." On the contrary, when it is contended that his 
 own admissions (pp. 157-8) ought to lead him beyond his 
 own conclusion, and to a belief in the historical reality of a 
 revealed religion, the position is at once " subjective " and 
 " objective." It is at once supposed, that a revelation has 
 been urgently required by the depravity of mankind ; and 
 that it has been granted. Eeligion is therefore viewed as 
 at once internal and external, subjective and objective. If 
 this last term is now and then used alone in defining the 
 nature or character of a revelation this is done for the 
 sake of emphasis ; as for example when we speak of 
 
374 GEKMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 "objective morality/' as distinct from "moral feeling." 
 Let a circle be equally divided, so that the two semi-circles 
 may ba set apart from each other ; and let one be placed 
 below the other. The lower may now represent our capacity 
 of accepting and knowing divine truth; the higher may 
 represent the truth itself. These correspond each to the 
 other, so that it may be said, that what was wanted has 
 been given. The figure may have some use, though it but 
 feebly indicates the truth that ethics and religion are at 
 once distinct and inseparable. Common sense sees this 
 truth. As surely as man possesses the senses and faculties 
 adapted to his practical life in this world ; so surely do we 
 find that he is here surrounded by a world of nature, in 
 which provisions have been made to meet his wants. As 
 surely as he has a capacity for knowing divine truth ; so 
 surely has that divine truth been revealed. This is the 
 position held by the opponents of Kant's philosophy ; 
 especially as regards its assertion of ethical isolation and 
 independence. Already a considerable space has been given 
 to an analysis of his moral teaching (pp. 160-76) ; yet here 
 it must be noticed once more, in order that its failure may 
 be shown in the light of a strong contrast. 
 
 Kant's system of ethics may be described as the most 
 reverent and at the same time for intelligent men the 
 most dangerous of all those philosophical systems that are 
 opposed to the essence of religion. Kantean teaching is 
 not directly and obviously anti-religious in every part 
 surely not but for all that it is simply ficw-religious. 
 As a summary and conclusion of all that has been said of 
 that moral teaching, one final example of its practical 
 application may be noticed here. Its strength will thus be 
 shown on one side ; its weakness on the other ; and respecting 
 its value common sense as Kant says, " practical reason" 
 will pronounce a verdict. 
 
 " The rule of rules/' he says, may thus be given : 
 " Act so that your own act may exemplify a good rule of 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 375 
 
 conduct for all men" Obviously this is in substance 
 equivalent to the " golden rule :" " As ye would that men 
 should do to you, do ye also to them likewise." 
 
 Why should the rule be obeyed by all men? As given 
 in the Gospels, that law of love appeals to our conscience, 
 our reason, and our human sympathy; but also refers to 
 a divine authority. The philosopher appeals first to the 
 immediate authority of conscience, and secondly to our 
 "practical reason." After all, however, the authority to 
 which he appeals is only man ; and man as he confesses 
 is a fallible and sinful creature. Suppose the question - 
 Who makes this law authoritative ? Your own conscience 
 has issued that law says Kant and the voice of conscience 
 is to be obeyed as if it were the voice of God himself. The 
 weakness the utter failure of true independence confessed 
 in these two little words " as if," will be noticed more dis- 
 tinctly in another place. Here for a moment let them pass 
 without censure ; and next let it be supposed that a moral 
 experiment is to be made. The practical moral value of 
 Kant's teaching is to be fairly tried in a case like the 
 following : 
 
 A man, in the latest hour of his life, gives to a friend a 
 paper representing money left for the support of an infant 
 son. The transaction is witnessed by no third person. The 
 father dies. The friend is left legally free. No created 
 being knows that the money was confided to his trust. He 
 himself knows nothing of any religion. He can use the 
 money just as his conscience dictates. For a moment the 
 thought suggests itself that he can keep the money for his 
 own use. The suggestion is instantly repelled by the man's 
 conscience his sole lawgiver and judge. There is no need 
 here of an appeal to any higher authority. This to use 
 Kant's phraseology is an example of the ' ' imperative " 
 character belonging to the dictates of conscience. It speaks 
 rapidly ; yet with the authority of a supreme arbiter. The 
 just man obeys instantaneously, and without a thought of 
 any religion. 
 
376 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Here Kant's own assertion of moral independence is well 
 exemplified in the case of a faithful friend. He fairly 
 represents, we trust, many millions of men. But all men 
 are not like that friend; and it is equally true that all duties 
 are not as clear and sacred as that imposed in the case of 
 the deposit. In other cases some appeal to reason may be 
 required. Kant therefore goes on to show next, how actions 
 morally bad or destructive are also- when viewed in the 
 light of reason self-contradictory. Let fraud be made the 
 common practice of trustees ; the end must be, that no 
 trustees will be appointed. Faith destroyed one interest 
 will follow another in the way to ruin ; and at last society 
 itself must be destroyed. That which is morally wrong 
 is intellectually false, and with regard to society is 
 destructive. 
 
 The conclusion is indeed true ; but such truth as this 
 cold, hard and dry will never be a true substitute for 
 religion. If society is to live, and to maintain a progressive 
 movement, virtues higher than common honesty will be 
 continuously demanded ; and motives stronger than reason 
 can supply will be required. Men will not obey an authority 
 not greater than their own. Reason having no basis 
 in faith will never be able to enforce duties leading to 
 martyrdom and self-sacrifice. If faith in the invisible must 
 be renounced if Grod has never revealed to men his own 
 ethical character or will then it is difficult, when looking 
 downward, to draw the line beneath which it will be 
 impossible for man to fall; but looking upward, it is 
 unhappily true, that we are well able to draw, with some 
 fairly approximate correctness, the line above which he will 
 never be able to rise. Let it be remembered that we are 
 speaking of men guided solely by their own reason. 
 
 Christ's followers, aided by his grace, may obey his 
 commands, and find them at last not irksome; but their 
 strength, arising out of faith, is more than the force that 
 can be supplied by " practical reason." When all faith 
 like theirs is fcrgotten ; when men are left dependent on 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 377 
 
 the force of sucli motives as may be called ordinary and 
 secular how shall we estimate the moral results that may 
 be reasonably expected ? When the authority of religion is 
 annulled, it is not probable that authority of a merely 
 historical nature can be made permanent. Hoping for the 
 best possible result we may perhaps foresee that gradually 
 the common sense of the majority will prevail; and that 
 consequently the virtues most obviously connected with 
 tangible and practical interests will be most respected. 
 But what are these virtues ? Apparently those which, as 
 defined by heathen moralists, have been called minor or 
 inferior such as frugality, foresight, and prudence ; all 
 made true servants of self-love. Already we see that where 
 faith, self-sacrifice, and moral heroism are alike declining, 
 the minor virtues not contemptuously so called are more 
 and more coming to the front in the battle of modern life. 
 
 Kant himself was conscious of the weakness inherent in 
 his own teaching the want of faith confessed in those 
 melancholy words " as if." They imply at once a wish to 
 accept and an incapability of accepting the objective truth 
 of Christianity. Morally considered, Christian teaching, he 
 said, is true and holy. The ideal here set forth, in the 
 Gospels, is a light clearer than all philosophy. The deepest 
 wants and the most earnest inquiries of human nature lead 
 on towards this faith (pp. 155-8). Kant's confession of 
 failure made more earnest the ethical character of several 
 later inquirers, who were animated and guided by the 
 latest teaching of Fichte (pp. 191-2). Surely, they said, 
 the moral guidance so urgently needed has been granted. 
 He who has made men responsible moral agents who has 
 made them capable of recognizing even holiness itself has 
 surely made known to them the dictates of his own moral 
 will. A disposition to believe to accept divine truth, as 
 revealed in the Gospel was expressed by Fichte, in his 
 later writings. Others, to escape from unbelief, found a 
 shelter in mysticism. One rather eloquent writer Stefiens 
 was led by his study of Christian ethics to accept the 
 
378 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Gospel as a divine revelation. And now, in these circum- 
 stances, there arose a new school of philosophy. 
 
 This philosophy, called " speculative/'' has the same first 
 principle that is also assumed in mysticism. Speculation 
 looks forth beyond the barriers set up by Kant in his 
 analysis of the understanding. Of those barriers or limita- 
 tions we have noticed especially one, viz., that which 
 excludes all knowledge of God even the knowledge of his 
 existence (p. 153). In speculative philosophy this limita- 
 tion is regarded as Kant's fundamental error. It is asserted 
 that, on the contrary, philosophy leads us to re-assert the 
 truth first accepted by religious faith that God reveals 
 not only his own eternal existence, but also his own 
 thoughts, and his own will. God is a spirit, omnipresent ; 
 and his thoughts are made known to us in nature, in our 
 conscience, and in revealed religion. It is moreover 
 asserted that, as regards several religious tenets rejected 
 alike by rationalism, and by Kant's criticism the results of 
 speculative philosophy accord in substance with the doctrines 
 of revelation. To reduce to a minimum this asserted con- 
 cordance, speculative philosophy does not apply to any faith 
 not even to gross heathenish forms of religion such 
 terms of contemptuous rejection as have been often employed 
 by deists when speaking of Christianity. 
 
 Our further notices of both mysticism and speculative 
 philosophy must be mainly historical. There are first to be 
 noticed some writings that appeared a few years after the 
 death of Fichte (1814). His own later teaching (pp. 182-92) 
 was mystic ; and led to a change of opinions, that to the 
 earlier rationalists might have been amazing, if they could 
 have seen it. " I have," says one of their school, writing in 
 Sender's time, " a neighbour whose digestion is good ; 
 and he reads classic authors. He is in most respects an 
 intelligent man ; and yet as regards his religion, there is one 
 strange thing to be told this intelligent man still believes 
 in the possibility of supernatural events \" 
 
 The writer's amazement would have been increased, if he 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 379 
 
 could have read the more speculative writings of SteSens, 
 especially those relating to his tellurian theory. These 
 writings are strongly characteristic of the time to which 
 they mostly belong (1819-31) and therefore demand some 
 notice. They represent a tendency that was concurrent 
 with the rise and development of speculative philosophy. 
 There prevailed in the time of Steffens a tendency to regard 
 nature as everywhere existing in union with the sympathies 
 of moral agents. This general idea was called "mysticism." 
 The word is vague, and it should be added that it will never 
 be employed here with any contemptuous or derisive inten- 
 tion. Among " mystics " have been numbered men of deep 
 thought, and wide sympathy ; others not less remarkable for 
 dialectic ability. But the most noticeable of all facts in 
 their history is their apparently unintentional agreement ' 
 their common acceptance of certain religious tenets. The 
 fall of angels and men ; the consequent deterioration of the 
 material world; a final restoration of peace through the 
 mediation of Jesus Christ these are the tenets made 
 especially prominent in the writings of the mystics. In 
 order to notice fairly their common belief, it should first be 
 divested of all the mere accidents with which it is too often 
 associated visions, ecstacies, and fanciful interpretations 
 of Scripture. These do not constitute the essence of 
 mysticism. It has its source, not in such accidents, but in 
 earnest religious feelings and endeavours to attain a union of 
 thought that can never be the result of knowledge founded 
 on the understanding alone. 
 
 A mysterious doctrine in theology may be accepted by a 
 mind that has no tendency toward mysticism. The mind 
 finds sufficient the authority on which the doctrine is 
 founded ; then accepts it, without a thought of seeking for 
 any union of the doctrine with reason. He believes ; but 
 the mystic as he tells us sees and knows. The mystic 
 first accepts the doctrine; and next endeavours to show, 
 that it contains evidence of its own truth. But on what 
 authority is his faith grounded ? On his own intuition. As 
 
380 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 he tells us, he first sees the truth in its own inner light, and 
 now recognizes evidences of the truth everywhere through- 
 out creation. If he could succeed in constructing a system 
 of logic, by which his faith might be made clear to others, 
 he would be classed with speculative philosophers. As he 
 does not succeed, he is styled a mystic. 
 
 HEINRICH STEFFENS, a Norwegian (1773-1845), was a man 
 of earnest character, who first gained a reputation by his 
 writings on geology. His mysticism consisted chiefly in 
 his theory of a sympathy in ordinary times occult existing 
 between the material world and the human soul. In poetry 
 especially in Wordsworth's poems the theory is often 
 supposed ; bat with Steffens it was made a subject of 
 serious inquiry. In 1831 he published a book telling how 
 he had returned to the Lutheran Confession, in which he 
 had been educated, and from which he had wandered away 
 during the course of his scientific studies. It is in this 
 book that he gives, in connection with his mystic theory, 
 some noticeable remarks respecting his own belief in the 
 possibility of miracles. 
 
 "Despite all the progress of science/' he says, ' ' a belief 
 in the supernatural manifests itself everywhere, as an 
 irrepressible element in human nature. Though driven 
 back, again and again, it always returns to the contest 
 against exclusive physical science and rationalism. A thou- 
 sand cases of supposed supernatural interference in the 
 order of nature have been found to be erroneous ; still the 
 belief in such events remains, and can be neither demon- 
 strated nor refuted." There must be some ground for it, 
 says Steffens. He then refers to the popular belief, or 
 notion, that commotions or revolutions in human society 
 have been frequently or generally attended with extra- 
 ordinary phenomena in nature. " Everyone/' he says, 
 " must acknowledge the fact that man, as an individual, is 
 intimately connected with the system of nature ; that his 
 existence, indeed, depends, as a part, on the whole to which 
 it belongs. But we assert more than this. We maintain 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 381 
 
 that history, as a whole, or as a total organization of all 
 human events and relations, and nature, or the external 
 world, have always existed in mysterious and intimate union. 
 And as man was ordained to be the regulative principle in 
 nature, so when his influence has not been duly exercised, 
 the restless and violent elements of nature have displayed 
 their ascendancy. This assertion is founded on the general 
 convictions of mankind, which remain even in the present 
 age. That a general sentiment in accordance with our 
 assertion has pervaded all nations, and that in every age of 
 the world, during times of extreme commotion in human 
 society, the people have expected with dread some extra- 
 ordinary or destructive movements in nature, is a fact too 
 well known to be denied." All that is named here says 
 Steffens, in another place suggests no reason for supposing 
 that miracles can occur in nature, when no correspondent 
 moral wonders are revealed as taking place in . the spiritual 
 world. To deists, who cannot believe that man has lost the 
 place he was intended to occupy, and that his fall and 
 recovery are connected with moral interests too vast to be 
 estimated by our minds in their actual and present stage 
 of development to deists of this class it cannot seem 
 reasonable, that for the sake of man's salvation, the spiritual 
 world should disclose wonders transcending such move- 
 ments as take place on earth and in accordance with the 
 ordinary course of nature. 
 
 Steffens goes on to contend that nothing less than some 
 paramount moral and spiritual interest can afford a basis for 
 belief in miracles. He carefully draws aline between his own 
 faith and the credulity of those who are ready to give credit 
 to anything wonderful. First of all, he says, I must see an 
 analogy of the highest possible kind before I can admit even 
 the probability of events transcending the analogies with 
 which we are made acquainted in the course of our ordinary 
 experience. That the force called physical and that called 
 moral are connected as parts belonging to one organism is a 
 truth granted as readily by materialists as by idealists. The 
 
382 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 former regard as merely nominal or theoretical the distinc- 
 tion made between these two forces ; and consequently their 
 connection is naturally explained as a sequence, equivalent 
 to a transmission of force. Thus an act morally unjust 
 excites anger, and this passion expresses itself in an act of 
 violence. The act and the anger are two physical expres- 
 sions of one force. Here nothing more need be said to 
 show how materialists whose doctrine makes the usual 
 course of nature absolute must consistently reject as 
 impossible all events described as miraculous. If nature, as 
 known through our senses, is absolute, then we can know 
 nothing 1 of a divine Power, not controlled or limited by 
 physical force. " No such Power exists/' says the materia- 
 list, whose rejection of miracles is but one item in his 
 general negation of religion. For him the thought of a 
 miracle is an absurdity; but it does nob follow that a charge 
 of absurdity .can be fairly preferred against a man whose 
 theory is opposed to that called materialism. 
 
 For Steffens there exists some authority in the general 
 implied faith of religious men in all ages. Their faith makes 
 him unwilling to admit that a miracle is impossible. He 
 still however demands evidence stronger than any vague 
 ideas, immemorial traditions and dim forebodings of Christ's 
 coming ; though these have been entertained by multitudes 
 of men. In a word, he must before he can accept as facts 
 the miracles narrated in the Gospels first of all accept and 
 believe firmly a whole series of moral and religious facts, 
 each wonderful in itself, and all culminating in an event 
 that is but feebly described when it is called the ' ' miracle 
 of miracles/' 
 
 This fact the Advent is for Steffens the one chief 
 antecedent, without which he can hardly comparatively 
 speaking find any interest in accounts of miracles. Let it 
 be understood, then, that he does not speak of miracles in 
 general, but of certain miracles ; and again, that he is 
 speaking of these as viewed in one light the light of his 
 own faith in the Person by whom they were wrought. He 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 383 
 
 first accepts a truth which here may be briefly defined as 
 his first tenet ; he also accepts as true a doctrine respecting 
 certain miracles, and this may be simply called his last 
 tenet. He gives no demonstration of the first, and none of 
 the last; but he says, most justly, that a man who believes 
 the first may without difficulty believe also the last. He 
 does not, by dint of historical evidence, endeavour to 
 compel an Ebionite one who cannot accept the first to 
 accept the last. The miraculous acts ascribed to Christ 
 thus, in effect, Steffens begins his self-defence against the 
 charge of credulity these acts as I view them are the 
 acts of God. You may say what you please of my faith, 
 and of my logic in showing how one part of that faith 
 corresponds with the other ; but you must not say that I 
 accept as valid certain accounts of miracles, while I .still 
 regard them as acts that may reasonably be ascribed to an 
 eminently good man. I do not say anything like this ; on 
 the contrary, my whole design in this self-defence is to 
 show how my belief in miracles, which may be called the 
 last tenet in my creed, agrees with my whole creed, and 
 especially with the tenet that I call the first. This is the 
 defensive position assumed by Steffens ; and it is one 
 interesting at the present time. Accordingly it may not be 
 out of place if this remarkable passage in his autobiography 
 is more particularly noticed here. 
 
 Fixed ideas were institutions maintained and venerated 
 by large numbers among the educated men who lived in the 
 time of Steffens. Their first fixed idea was one asserting 
 that nature is an automaton a perfect " perpetuum 
 mobile," at first created by God, and now left to go on for 
 ever, winding itself up while otherwise working in an order 
 that can never be changed. Miracles are therefore impossible. 
 
 Their next fixed idea was one if possible still more 
 firmly rooted in their minds. Their general belief as 
 regards the Person of Christ may fairly be called Ebionite, 
 if we notice only those more respectful and moderate among 
 the opinions held by men called rationalists. If their 
 
384 
 
 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 extreme views (pp. 62-3) were noticed here again, the name 
 " Ebionite" could not be correctly ascribed to them. It is 
 used however for two reasons : first because it is fair on 
 the whole, and secondly because it is not the name of any 
 existing sect. It hardly needs be added, that men who 
 were in fact Ebionites as regards their belief respecting 
 Christ would often call in question either the common 
 sense or the honesty of educated men, when they said they 
 believed in miracles. Sarcastic observations on this point 
 were mostly echoes of words often spoken in England in the 
 course of the eighteenth century. The third fixed idea in 
 the minds of deists and rationalists in Germany, as in 
 England, was the impossibility of sincere belief in any 
 miracles. 
 
 Meanwhile it is to be remembered that in Germany, as in 
 England, Christian apologists had placed in the front as it 
 were the evidential power of miracles. In the defence of 
 their faith they had assigned a place of paramount 
 importance to their own historical argument, which was 
 based on the miracles recorded in the Gospels. It was 
 implied that if this could fail, all must fail (p. 60). 
 
 This argument has already been defined (pp. 33-35) and 
 at the same time the position of self-defence assumed by 
 Steffens has also been defined, though without any reference 
 to his writings. To repeat what has been said (p. 34) " he 
 finds " so he tells us " in the New Testament, and in the 
 closest possible union with accounts of miracles, a series of 
 ethical teachings so holy that their authority is clear as the 
 sun at noon-day ; but more he finds there also the records 
 of a life in which humanity is indissolubly united with 
 divinity." He cannot he declares accept an Ebionite 
 definition of that life. How then can he consistently reject 
 the evidence afforded by the miracles ascribed to Christ ? 
 
 Steffens endeavours first to make clear and definite his 
 own position, and to suggest that the commonplace 
 experience on which deists base their rejection of miracles is 
 not a final authority. The narratives, he says, that are 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 385 
 
 rejected as incredible because they contain accounts of 
 miracles, contain also a revelation that we cannot reject. 
 Were it first made possible to isolate the miracles, the 
 question raised respecting their historical validity would 
 assume a new aspect ; but so closely are the two elements, 
 the ethical and the miraculous, here united, that there 
 appears to be left for us no possibility of accepting the 
 former while rejecting the latter. Both lie beyond the 
 bounds of our ordinary experience. The leading ideas in 
 the writer's argument or confession of faith may here be 
 given in the form of a paraphrase : 
 
 " I am an explorer of nature, and know something of the method to 
 which our progress in physical science is largely indebted. Excellent 
 for its purpose is this strict method of induction ; but it has its 
 limitations. It leads us from point to point in the world of experience, 
 and everywhere leads to an acquaintance with things finite and 
 dependent ; then leaves us desiring to know more especially more of 
 ourselves, our duty, and our destiny moreover, believing that we can 
 know more. Why the faith if it have no object ? The question is 
 not set aside for ever when it is waived. It returns from age to age, 
 and replies more or less mixed with errors are suggested by the 
 religions of many peoples. It is not reasonable to say that, because 
 many erroneous answers have been given, the true one can never be 
 found. . . . There is in my creed nothing that can retard or discourage 
 the progress of science. I have nothing to say in favour of aimless 
 miracles, reported as here and there or now and then appearing, so as 
 to make uncertain all our calculations based on experience. I speak only 
 of certain manifestations of divine power attending the Advent of Our 
 Lord ; and I am therefore at a loss to know how my faith can be 
 described as one ' setting itself in opposition to the laws of nature.' 
 All our science is based first on observations of nature ; and next our 
 inductive reasonings follow, while we take for granted all along the 
 fact, that nature is still pursuing her habitual course. I do not see 
 how any interference with the ' laws ' so discovered takes place, when 
 I accept as true certain miracles attending the life of Christ. My 
 faith might be fairly represented were it said, that I believe in 
 one supreme, miraculous revelation of divine goodness, wisdom, and 
 power ; and in the accompanying acts especially called ' miracles ;' 
 which acts were as so many words of one revelation. Here wonders 
 are so inseparably united with ethical and spiritual authority, that 
 while I submit myself to the latter I do not see it possible to reject 
 
 25 
 
386 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 the former. Here then faith in the supernatural, that elsewhere might 
 be a disturbing influence, is, I submit, in its right place. My faith, 
 thus defined, as relating to certain acts, does not commit me to 
 any vague or general theory respecting various other events called 
 miraculous or supernatural. Among these some may be wholly 
 fictitious ; while others may have some true grounds. However that 
 may be, they have no connection with the faith that I would now 
 defend. 
 
 " Our Saviour's life in this world is our basis of faith. If that 
 which we cannot understand must therefore be blotted out of the 
 pages of history, it is not faith in miracles that must first disappear. 
 First must disappear our belief in the presence of One whose coming 
 is a wonder to say the least, as great as that of a new world of light 
 and order suddenly arising out of chaos [pp. 238-40]. Is it conceivable, 
 that the same creative Power by whom the night of our souls is 
 dispelled ; by whom we are liberated from the thraldom of nature ; 
 whose light is now spread over the world ; yea, over the lives of those 
 men who still deny His advent is it to be thought possible, that this 
 Power should in his own life on earth make manifest no energies 
 surpassing those classed with the facts of our ordinary experience ? 
 You cannot give me an account of man's true nature his ethical 
 character so long as you confine your observation to the powers 
 developed in other forms of animal life." 
 
 The writer supposes here that his own line of demarcation 
 which is chiefly ethical is one that scientific men will 
 take to be correct. He does not foresee the character 
 and tendency of certain anthropological speculations made 
 prominent in the writings of Vogt, Haeckel, Spencer, and 
 other philosophers of the present age. According to the 
 firm belief of Stefiens, that supposed early stage of 
 development in which man was for the most part like the 
 other simiaB was a state of the world in which man did not 
 exist. Such instinct and cunning as animals can show can 
 never, he says, make a man. Man, for the animals around 
 him, is an unknown being. What are all his peculiar powers, 
 his ideas, his sentiments, when viewed in relation to the 
 instincts possessed by the earth's older inhabitants ? His 
 lower faculties, those most like their own above all his 
 power of destruction may excite their terror ; but as for ; 
 the rest of his powers, the higher they rise, as expressions 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 387 
 
 of benevolence, sympathy and reverence, the more deeply 
 are they concealed. If then man's first appearance in the 
 world must for the rest of the earth's inhabitants remain a 
 mystery a something unknown why, when One infinitely 
 higher and holier than fallen man comes into this world 
 why should not his coming be attended by mysteries ? 
 Obviously, Steffens has here no intention of making the 
 suggested parallel complete. Man, though a fallen creature, 
 can recognize a holiness that is not his own. This is the 
 basis of religion. When holiness is clearly seen as mani- 
 fested in perfect union with human nature, the fact is still 
 for man's intelligence mysterious or wonderful ; but it must 
 not be said that it is unknown. All this Steffens doubtless 
 intends us to understand. He next proceeds as follows : 
 
 " I see One walking in lowliness on this earth teaching, healing 
 souls and bodies, forgiving sins. He is followed by few; comprehended 
 by none. His might is veiled by his profound humiliation. Other- 
 wise does worldly power assert its presence coming forth in proud 
 martial array, marching on over conquered lands, crushing down the 
 peoples and breaking their hearts [pp. 239-40] and all for what 
 purpose ? To establish a temporal dominion ; to raise a proud 
 structure that must soon fall into ruins. Tedious would it be to 
 recite even the names of states, lawgivers, systems of ethics, and 
 schools of philosophy, that have all passed away since the days when 
 our Lord was teaching in Galilee. . . . Now what is there left in 
 the world that is firm and safe ? And as regards the future, what 
 hope have we save one, of which his own word is the sole basis ? If 
 men would allow the history of the world to speak to them, and 
 would calmly listen, they would be led to the belief to which I have 
 been led to that one belief without which, not only miracles, but 
 thousands of undisputed facts must for ever remain mysteries, as to 
 their true nature and their final intention. For the aid of those who 
 wish to be led to the truth, I would tell simply the way in which my 
 own doubts and difficulties have been overcome. It will be under- 
 stood henceforth, that wherever I write of miracles, they are only 
 those named in the G-ospels. 
 
 " But why name together several miracles, and thus make the ques- 
 tion more difficult. I have been led to study especially one fact and 
 its results the fact that, on the third day after the Crucifixion of our 
 Lord, his afflicted few disciples suddenly awakened out of the depth 
 of their grief and depression came forth boldly, declaring the fact 
 
388 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 of his resurrection. Their testimony was received by multitudes 
 and has since their time been accepted by untold millions. This 
 is the great historical fact of Christianity. In the first place ib 
 is to be viewed in itself, and next with a reference to the 
 spiritual life awakened and sustained in the millions who have reposed 
 faith in that testimony. This fact of the resurrection having always 
 maintained its essential union with a spiritual power must be divine. 
 May it not be said, that evidences of the resurrection have been thus 
 made clearer, brighter by the lapse of nearly eighteen hundred years ? 
 It is in the light of this physical and spiritual miracle and its vast 
 results the expansion of a world-conquering spiritual power it is 
 in this light that I now view all other miracles. And I can now see 
 clearly the cause of all my former difficulty in accepting them. They 
 were for me incredible, as acts ascribed to One of whose Person 
 my views though even then reverential were extremely defective. 
 Here was the source of my error. It was no especial want of faith 
 in miracles ; but a deeper unbelief. There was visible to me only a 
 world of finite events, and among these were classed even those 
 belonging to the life of our Lord, during the years when he lived in 
 Galilee and visited Judaea. I saw only the facts of his humiliation. 
 . . . . Now nearly eighteen hundred years have passed away. 
 Were such views as once were mine truly correspondent to the life 
 and teaching of Christ, what would now be the results of that teaching 
 the results that might be reasonably expected ? Affectionate 
 reminiscences would be cherished for some few years in the minds of 
 true disciples ; but these disciples would die, and their devotion would 
 be forgotten. Possibly some institution founded by them might for 
 a time preserve his memory. But the world is restless ; the doctrines, 
 actions, records of good men are lost in the lapse of centuries. At 
 last their very names are forgotten ; or are preserved only in books. 
 This is a summary of that process of decay from which no human 
 institutions are exempt. How then in the case that has been sup- 
 posed could a few lowly disciples of Jesus make permanent in such 
 a world as this the authority of their crucified Lord ? How could 
 they perpetuate even his name ? They went forth and preached 
 boldly in obedience to his command, and in opposition to a world 
 more formidable than can now be imagined, and that world was over- 
 come. It has passed away. 
 
 ;t Since then some three score generations of men have appeared and 
 disappeared. Nations, languages, sciences so-called have perished. 
 Has the teaching of Christ passed away ? No ; it has given to man- 
 kind a new destiny ; to our souls a new reason for existence. \Ve are 
 changed, not only in our circumstances, but also in our inmost thoughts 
 so far changed, that the moral condition of that ancient world, which 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 389 
 
 Christ's coming overthrew, is a state of existence to which we cannot 
 go back, even if we would. That is for us a mystery of iniquity, of 
 which it is not possible that we can now have a clear and adequate 
 conception. Since his coming, history so far as it is truly progressive 
 has been created by Him. Our actual state of existence is filled 
 with his presence. Unbelievers, who formally reject his authority, 
 stand morally on the ground that he has created; and for their 
 existence, moral and physical, they depend on the civilization that 
 He has established. Ideas of man's dignity and freedom such as 
 were utterly unknown in ancient Greece and Rome are now made 
 familiar to the minds of millions, who never dream of the truth, that 
 those ideas were first revealed by Christ (pp. 204-6). For millions 
 partly submissive to his authority, or still in their hearts rebellious 
 it is simply impossible now to escape from his influence. Indifference 
 is but a name ; no such state of mind is practicable. The words that 
 so long ago predicted this result must be remembered. How clearly 
 they are fulfilled in our times ! We must be classed with his adver- 
 saries ; or we must submit, and henceforth acknowledge Him as our 
 Lord. There is no other way. We must give to Him ourselves. 
 He to whom this surrender is due is the centre of a new life ; the 
 source of a new and holy creation. ' He that loveth his life shall 
 lose it ; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto 
 life eternal.' " [John xii. 25 ; cf. Matt. x. 39 ; xvi. 25 ; Mark viii. 35 j 
 Luke ix. 24.] 
 
 Not a word needs be added, to make clear the order in 
 which the writer has studied the evidences afforded by 
 miracles. He is first led by ethical evidence to his con- 
 fession of faith -, and in the light of his faith the difficulties 
 attending miracles disappear. 
 
 Steffens, we have seen, places in the front of all other 
 evidence that which we have called ethical. He finds in the 
 Gospels and in the writings of St. Paul a portraiture of 
 which the various traits have been drawn by several hands. 
 So perfect is their ethical concord, and so commanding the 
 character thus portrayed that as Steffens concludes 
 suspicions of late invention, of collusion, or of accidental 
 coincidence, must be rejected. The result is, that there 
 remains only one way in which we can account for the 
 existence of such a portraiture. We are compelled to admit 
 that it is historically true. This once believed, says the writer, 
 
390 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 facts that once seemed impossible come within the range of 
 our belief. He next goes on as we have partly shown to 
 support his own ethical argument by adducing in favour of 
 Christianity such evidences as are seen in the history of the 
 Church, and in the spread of Christian civilization. The 
 Church, he says although it has been torn asunder, and 
 too often inwardly distracted by controversies has never- 
 theless kept burning in the world a light that is to shine 
 forth more brightly in the future. 
 
 Here our limitations (p. 1) must exclude further notice of 
 the ecclesiastical argument. The main result to be noticed 
 is this : the writer is led by a firm belief in Christ's 
 divinity to accept as historical facts such miracles as are 
 recorded in the Gospels. 
 
 So far there is nothing in the faith here defined that can 
 be justly called mystical. It is however true that, in the 
 time of Stefiens, there were more or less current among 
 men of his class certain ideas that made comparatively easy 
 their acceptance of miracles. These ideas were such as 
 might fairly be called mystic, and for the most part were 
 borrowed from the writings of Jacob Bohme. The fact is 
 one having some interest as connected with the speculative 
 views of Schelling and Hegel and therefore must be more 
 distinctly noticed ; but only in an historical way. The two 
 writers last-named borrowed, it is said, some ideas from 
 Bohme; it would be more correct to say, they borrowed 
 one idea. The fact is not concealed in their writings ; on 
 the contrary, it is distinctly confessed. Obviously their 
 confession was one that might be construed so as to make 
 contemptible the pretensions of their philosophy ; for 
 nothing could be easier than to show that Bohme's writings 
 were chaotic and unintelligible. Their strange terminology; 
 their mingling of poetry with reasoning; above all their 
 wonderful philology ascribing meanings to syllables 
 these traits naturally invited ridicule. Of all the controversy 
 that followed, little can be told here. It must, however, be 
 distinctly noticed that Schelling's treatise on "Freedom" 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 391 
 
 published in 1809 is founded on the central idea of 
 Bohme's theosophy. As afterwards developed, under the 
 name of speculative philosophy, this idea led to results that 
 on one side were condemned as pantheistic ; on the other 
 were described as conclusions accordant with orthodox 
 Christology. 
 
 There are good reasons for supposing, that the mystic 
 teaching described sometimes as "leading men back to 
 Christianity/'' was first of all, and long ago, borrowed from 
 the Church. This is said with especial reference to such 
 ideas of Christology and mediation as are found in several 
 of the mediaeval writers called mystic. Mora than a little 
 learning would be required to show clearly, in an historical 
 way, how far our supposition may be true. Hitherto the 
 writings of such men as Eckart, Tauler and Bdhme have 
 for the most part been regarded as mysteries, of which no 
 analysis is possible. Nevertheless the agreement of these 
 writers is remarkable, when they endeavour to express their 
 chief ideas above all those relating to Christology. 
 
 There is, however, in Bohme one idea that might, from its 
 prominence in his writings, be called his own. It is the 
 idea afterwards developed by Schelling and Hegel in their 
 speculative philosophy; but in substance it is found in 
 Eckart, who lived in the fourteenth century. He was a 
 Dominican, whose metaphysical teaching was condemned by 
 the Church. 
 
 Tauler (1290-1361), a monk who for a time was Eckart's 
 disciple, wrote and preached in a more practical strain; 
 though the basis of his doctrine was mystic. Many passages 
 in his sermons are full of the eloquence not derived from 
 studied diction, but springing immediately from the heart. 
 " True humiliation," he says in one place, " is an impreg- 
 nable fortress. All the world may try to carry it by storm ; 
 but they cannot. Dear soul, sink into the abyss of thine 
 own nothingness, and then let a tower fall to crush thee ; or 
 all the demons from hell oppose thee ; or let earth and all 
 the creatures that live thereon, set themselves in battle array 
 
392 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 against thee they shall not prevail, but shall be made to 
 serve thee." Such was Tauler's preaching on his favourite 
 theme. His chief work is entitled " The Imitation of Christ 
 in His Humiliation." The doctrine made most prominent 
 in the writings of Tauler teaches us that religion is a life in 
 the souls of men. All that is historically true must be con- 
 ceived in the soul, in order that it may become spiritually 
 true. But the word ' ' spiritual," as used by Tauler, is not 
 to be understood in a negative or merely internal sense ; for 
 he teaches that what is spiritual is also practical. There are 
 superficial thoughts that have no power and lead to no 
 practice; but there are also thoughts that are essentially 
 united with deep feeling and a corresponding practice, and 
 these, he says, are spiritual thoughts. He asserts as necessary 
 a union of faith with good works. 
 
 The leading traits of mysticism are seen again in the 
 little book at first entitled " Der Franckforfcer " afterwards 
 called "Eyn deutsch Theologia" which was written pro- 
 bably in the fourteenth century. In its speculative teaching 
 it agrees well on the whole with the metaphysics of Bckart 
 and Tauler; and the ethics of the latter are concisely yet 
 clearly given in simple words. The fall of man is here 
 viewed as a continuous act of man's will, in the assertion of 
 itself, in opposition to the will of the Infinite. Man's will 
 is the centre and the source of a world of disunion. Before 
 his "fall," or separation from the Infinite, his will acted as 
 a magnet on all creatures, and held them in union and 
 subordination ; but by the perversion of his will all creatures 
 are perverted. It is vain to attempt, in the first place, 
 any outward reformation. Man must resign his will ; must 
 claim no independent life in or for himself; must not 
 imagine that he can possess anything good, as power, 
 knowledge, or happiness. All such thoughts as are expressed 
 in the words "I" and "mine" must be renounced. Such 
 resignation is the birth of the second Adam. In him the 
 whole creation is to be restored to its primeval order. This 
 birth of the second Adam must take place in every man 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 393 
 
 who would be a Christian. He must become weary of 
 himself and of all created and finite things, and, relin- 
 quishing all his desires, must resign his whole soul and will. 
 Though good works wrought in the life of the renewed soul 
 are holy, yet more holy is the inner, silent self-sacrifice that 
 can never be fully expressed in good words or good works ; 
 for by that inner sacrifice the soul is translated into the one 
 true life beyond all death the eternal life in which sin, and 
 self, and sorrow, and all things that belong to the creature 
 apart from God, are for ever lost. 
 
 Such was the teaching of the mediseval mystics who 
 wrote in German. Their ideas were faithfully preserved by 
 their disciples ; and were not much disturbed even by the 
 controversy of the sixteenth century. Accordingly we find 
 them for the most part reproduced in the writings of Bohme, 
 which contain however some expansions of ideas that are 
 apparently original. Little can be said here of his biography ; 
 but in passing it is well to notice a current error, which 
 describes him as extremely poor, and almost destitute of 
 education. His parents were peasants of the better class. 
 He could read and criticize some books called abstruse. 
 His friends were mostly men of respectable position. 
 During his travels he heard much of the religious contro- 
 versies of the times, especially those between Lutherans 
 and the men called " Crypto-Calvinists." His enlighten- 
 ment, he tells us, was preceded by a time of doubt induced 
 by endeavours to solve hard questions respecting Providence. 
 His first book printed in 1612 contained many passages 
 that gave great offence. In obedience to his pastor, Bohme 
 abstained from writing on theology, and remained silent for 
 about seven years. He was however encouraged by his 
 friends to begin writing again in 1619, and produced after 
 that time several mystic works, including a tract, " On the 
 Threefold Life of Man;" Eeplies to " Forty Questions 
 respecting the Soul;" a tract entitled "De Signatura 
 Kerum;" and the "Mysterium Magnum." During the last 
 four or five years of his life (1619-24) he was chiefly 
 
394 
 
 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 supported by the sale of his books, and by gifts from several 
 friends who believed in his teaching. 
 
 There are found in Bohme's writings some remarkably 
 imaginative descriptions and illustrations. These chiefly 
 attracted the attention of dreamy and poetical men in the 
 days of the "Komantic School. 1 " Here and there occur 
 passages that may be called clear and popular for example 
 the following : 
 
 " As the earth expresses her virtues in many flowers, so 
 the Creator displays his wisdom and marvellous works in 
 his children. If as lowly children we could dwell together, 
 each rejoicing in the gifts and talents possessed by others, 
 who would condemn us ? Who condemns the birds in the 
 wood when they all praise their Lord, while each in its own 
 mode sings as its nature bids ? Does Divine Wisdom con- 
 demn them because they do not all sing in unison ? No ; 
 for all their voices are gifts from One in whose presence 
 they are all singing. The men who, with regard to their 
 knowledge, quarrel and despise one another, are inferior, in 
 this respect, to the birds of the wood and to other wild 
 creatures. Such men are more useless than the quiet 
 flowers of the field, which allow their Creator's wisdom and 
 power to display themselves freely. Such men are worse 
 than thorns and thistles among fair flowers ; for thorns and 
 thistles can, at least, be still." 
 
 The most remarkable passages in Bohme are those in 
 which he repeats again and again his doctrine respecting 
 " the fall of man " as in the following : 
 
 " There is an inner light, not extinguished, but overcast as with a 
 cloud in the soul of man. His darkness is the result of his self-will, 
 which contains in itself the essence of evil. Its most common forms 
 of manifestation are pride, greed, envy, and hate. Man is a union 
 of body and soul. Moral evil, therefore, expresses itself in natural 
 defects. Man's sin has debased not only his own physical nature, 
 but that of the world that belongs to him. When man becomes 
 disobedient to God, the earth becomes disobedient to man." [Bohme 
 calls self-will, especially in the form of pride, Lucifer, and writes 
 sometimes as if using personification j but, at other times he speaks 
 
CHAPTER XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 395 
 
 of Lucifer as the first transgressor.] " The fall which men deplore 
 is the result of perverted freedom. The greatest of all the gifts 
 bestowed by the Creator on his creatures is freedom, and its right 
 use is a free obedience rendered to the will of the Giver. But self- 
 will has made a perversion of the highest possible good. As the root 
 of a thorn mates only thorns out of the light and warmth by which 
 roses also bloom, so self-will has converted good into evil. But evil 
 is not to prevail. It must be finally transmuted into good ; mean- 
 while it calls forth the energies of Divine Love. Man's deepest 
 misery calls forth the highest expression of mercy. A second Adam 
 appears and reverses the process instituted by the first. The first 
 asserts his own will and forfeits Paradise ; the second resigns his will, 
 his soul, his life ; and so returns into Paradise, leading with him all 
 who will follow him." 
 
 What is the idea that, as a first principle, belongs to 
 both mystic and speculative views of religion ? (pp. 390-91). 
 The reply must here be simply historical. Any attempt 
 made toward exposition would lead down to the very depths 
 of metaphysics. 
 
 . " Facilis descensus Averno ; 
 
 Sed revocare gradum, superasque evadere ad auras, 
 Hoc opus, hie labor est." 
 
 Virg. JEn. vi., 126-9. 
 
 So abhorrent from everything like mystic thought is the 
 genius of English literature, that our language does not 
 possess the words strictly required in order to translate the 
 passages best showing the main concordance of Bohme and 
 Hegel. Accordingly, all mention of them might be simply 
 omitted here ; and we might pass on swiftly to notice the 
 more popular details of the controversy raised by David 
 Strauss. But such an omission would make everything 
 that might follow historically false ; for this later contro- 
 versy was in fact developed out of the teaching of Hegel, so 
 far as it was understood by Strauss. It is now indeed 
 determined by all competent critics* that his interpretation 
 of Hegel's teaching was utterly erroneous. Still the fact 
 
 *Dorner; "Gesch, der prot. Theologie " (1867), pp. 787-91. 
 Pfleiderer ; " Eeligionsphilosophie " (1878), pp. 593, 673. 
 
396 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 remains, that the " theory of myths/' as at first proposed 
 by Strauss, arose out of his study of speculative philosophy, 
 of which, therefore, some initiatory account must here be 
 given. The subject is very ungrateful ; and for the most 
 part our analysis of it will be deferred to the next following 
 chapter ; but here we must notice briefly how the teaching 
 of Schelling and Hegel made a great apparent alteration 
 in the relations existing between philosophy and religion. 
 The sweeping negations of deism were no longer re-echoed ; 
 but it was now granted, at least, that there was in the 
 Christian religion something to be respected. Its leading 
 ideas were not defined as self-contradictory ; but even those 
 called mysteries the ideas of mediation, and atonement 
 were accepted as religious expressions of eternal truths. 
 These and other supposed conciliations of philosophy and 
 religion, all rested on the basis of a first metaphysical idea, 
 of which the following brief (and perhaps unsatisfactory) 
 expression must here suffice : Life we are told natural, 
 ethical or intellectual consists not in any abstract principle ; 
 but has a process of which the form is triune. Nothing 
 definable as abstract as existing in a dead identity, and 
 having in itself no energy of self-distinction can have any 
 true existence; the thought of such a thing is but a defini- 
 tion formed by our understanding. Life develops itself by 
 means of oppositions ; and the relations of opposite expres- 
 sions of one truth are not merely negative, but have growth 
 or development of truth for their result.* Definition is not 
 negation. The finite is at once defined by and united with 
 the infinite. They are not merely identified, and are not 
 separated. Obviously, if this be granted, the chief nega- 
 tions of deistic logic at once lose their force. No such 
 negations we are told belong to speculative philosophy ; 
 for this says Hegel refutes the proposition so often 
 accepted as an axiom : " Omnis determinatio est negatio." 
 Accordingly, it was now said, that a change of meta- 
 
 * Hegel; "Encyclop. d. phil. Wissens." (3te Ausg. 1830), 22-4, 
 and 82. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. MYSTICISM. SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. 397 
 
 physical principles had led to a corresponding change in 
 the relations of philosophy and religion; and that this 
 change was observable when we looked, on one side, to that 
 which had been denied by deistic logic ; or on the other 
 side, to that which speculative philosophy now asserted. 
 
 On the negative side, the new philosophy did not define 
 faith as bounded by the understanding. It was not declared 
 now that every tenet not yet reduced to a clear, intelligible 
 form must therefore be denounced as absurd. The man of 
 honest intention whose faith was a "religion of the heart" 
 was now recognized once more as a brother; though he 
 might have no tendency to reflexion, and might perhaps fall 
 into logical error or fail to show a strict sequence of 
 conclusions when he endeavoured to give a reason for the 
 faith that was within him. The " rights " of intuition and 
 immediate ethical feeling these rights so long suppressed 
 under the tyranny of logic were now allowed to be as valid 
 as the conclusions of reasoning processes. These were first 
 principles, held by many thoughtful men who lived in the 
 time of Steffens and Schelling. They earnestly longed for 
 some restoration of faith. They did not hold that a divine 
 revelation is impossible. 
 
 On the positive side, the new philosophy accepted as facts 
 of experience some of the truths that for ages had been 
 believed, though popular philosophy had classed them with 
 errors now exploded. The intellectual horizon was enlarged, 
 as the apparent horizon is changed when we climb out of a 
 low and narrow dale to the top of a mountain. " What a 
 tiny speck \" says the traveller, when he looks down on the 
 hamlet where he has passed the night. So Schelling spoke 
 of rationalism, when he defined it as a system on every side 
 too small. 
 
 Secularism, or practical atheism Buddhism Christianity 
 each of these, when compared with other assertions of 
 general and ethical principles, may be called great or 
 comprehensive. The first is a negation of all religions. 
 Buddhism primitive, not popular is clear in its teaching 
 
398 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 as to man's way of salvation. He must die not in the 
 superficial sense understood by those for whom ceasing to 
 breathe is dying; but so that the will must die first, 
 resigning at once the pleasures, and with them the sorrows 
 of life. This is the teaching of which our modern name is 
 " Pessimism." Nothing is said here of its truth or its 
 untruth : it is noticed only as being a comprehensive 
 idea, and practically clear as a general rule of life. Of 
 secularism though mostly negative the same may be said. 
 It has nothing to say of salvation ; but tells us merely tha,t 
 man, by the use of his reason, must improve his condition 
 in this life. 
 
 Christianity cannot be made clear in this negative way. 
 It is a doctrine that, in the first place, admits as real the 
 facts of history the good and the bad; the hopeful, and 
 those that seem hopeless. Christianity is at once severe and 
 kind, truthful and moderate ; but its chief practical trait is 
 this that it brings to man a hope of reconciliation with 
 Heaven, while it recognizes the fact that his nature is 
 dualistic. He has heaven or hell in himself. It is vain to 
 tell him to get rid of " gloomy mysteries." Let religion be 
 abolished ; but here the mysteries still remain in his 
 own nature. " Suppressio veri " says Schelling is not 
 enlightenment; but vice versa the so-called " enlightenment" 
 of the age now passing away is a " suppressio veri." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SCHELLIKQ. HEGEL. 
 
 IT is here that our limitations, already defined (pp. 9-12) 
 must be most strictly observed. There is but little that 
 can be said here of speculative philosophy, save that which 
 relates to religion; and limitation must be made still closer; 
 little can be said, save that which relates to one doctrine 
 the central tenet of the Christian Eeligion that in which 
 lives the uniting energy without which the whole system of 
 our belief falls to ruin. This is a truth now accepted as an 
 axiom, alike by the millions of men classed with orthodox 
 Christians and by many of the most intelligent among the 
 anti-christian writers of modern times (pp. 11-12). The 
 latter know well that to gain their end to destroy religion 
 it is not required that they should refute specially every 
 doctrine called Christian ; ' ' let the centre be attacked " 
 this, as we have seen (p. 12), is the leading idea, ever held in 
 view throughout the whole of their warfare against religion. 
 
 " But how " an English reader may naturally inquire 
 "how should philosophy have anything to say respecting 
 that one central tenet 1" For Catholics it is one long ago 
 denned by the Church as orthodox; while Protestants, in 
 large numbers, have accepted it as a doctrine founded on 
 a right interpretation of Holy Scripture. The scriptural 
 grounds for its assertion have been attacked by many critics 
 since Semler's time ; and hence the Christian faith of large 
 numbers of men has been destroyed. The question then is 
 in the first place, and for Protestants one respecting the 
 validity of certain historical accounts ; and the answer must 
 
400 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 be founded on historical research. But what can philosophy, 
 or any doctrine of general ideas, have to say respecting a 
 purely historical question a question of facts ? At the 
 utmost it can only say that such facts are possible. 
 
 This is a summary of the chief objections urged against 
 philosophical views of religious questions. Not only those 
 biblical critics who are classed with rationalists, but also 
 men most various in their opinions materialists, agnostics, 
 theologians of almost all confessions, including both the 
 orthodox and the latitudinarian have agreed in reprobation 
 of attempts made by speculative philosophy to show its 
 accordance with tenets called Christian. This censure has 
 in the present century fallen most heavily on the writings of 
 two men Schelling and Hegel. On one side their general 
 tendency has been described as " pantheistic ;" on the other, 
 it has been said that they contributed largely especially 
 in 1820-45 toward such restoration of religious belief as 
 took place in the course of that time. Into this controversy 
 we shall not enter ; but shall chiefly pay attention to facts 
 or results, and especially to those having some relation to 
 Christology. 
 
 The unbelief of the eighteenth century was not at first 
 founded on any biblical criticism, however destructive, but 
 was in its way philosophical. This fact has been made clear 
 in the accounts already given of English deism (pp. 13-31) 
 and German " popular philosophy" (pp. 55-63). Deism, 
 like "popular philosophy," is founded on one general 
 principle of abstract unity in God, and of absolute separa- 
 tion between the two natures, divine and human. The 
 deist sees everywhere one and the same eternal separation, 
 as first existing between God and man, and then as reflected 
 i-n such antitheses as the infinite and the finite matter and 
 spirit mind and nature revelation and science faith and 
 reason. Everywhere, in deistic theory, we begin and end 
 with separation. 
 
 The general aim of both Schelling and Hegel was to 
 assert as their first principle that the separation made 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHBLLING. HEGEL. 401 
 
 between faith and reason was not final; but should be 
 viewed as a formal and temporary opposition. Opposition, 
 said Schelling, does exist., but only in order that union may 
 make manifest its energy. His earliest theory was an 
 asserted concordance of nature and the mind. His teaching 
 had more or less of a mystic character after 1809. In 
 proportion as it became more ethical, it was made more 
 approximative toward the orthodox doctrine of Christology. 
 In his latest course of lectures (1841) he maintained, that 
 ethical principles known as sentiments, as rules of practice, 
 and as general ideas must be viewed as expressions of a 
 divine power, pervading the whole course of history. The 
 ideas leading men to Christ are he says manifestations of 
 his presence the presence of his own Spirit, pervading 
 history, and leading mankind into union with God. 
 
 Of Hegel's religious teaching it is not so easy to write at 
 once briefly and truly; for there are three distinct inter- 
 pretations of his doctrine. The first, as held by Strauss, is 
 now mostly rejected as incorrect ; the second is the doctrine 
 expounded by Pfleiderer, in his " Religions-philosophic " 
 (1878) ; and the third asserts on the whole a concordance 
 between Hegel's own doctrine and that recognized as 
 orthodox. In order to avoid controversy, our further notices 
 of both Schelling and Hegel must be chiefly historical. 
 
 FRIEDEICH WILHELM JOSEPH VON SCHELLING, born at 
 Leonberg in 1775, was in early life a student at Tiibingen, 
 and afterwards went to Jena, where he was for some time 
 associated with Fichte, whose earlier philosophy he had 
 studied. He was especially dissatisfied with its views of 
 nature ; and was soon led to inquire how he might find 
 a first principle on which should be founded a doctrine 
 at once ideal and real the " Philosophy of Nature," of 
 which he wrote some outlines in 1797. Nature and the 
 mind, are, he said, in their essence one. In nature ideas 
 are divided and become external and visible ; in the mind 
 they return to union. The processes of nature are so many 
 ascending steps by which the mind escapes from its subjec- 
 
 26 
 
402 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 lion to external laws, recognizes itself, and becomes 
 conscious of its own freedom. Every phenomenon in nature 
 is the incorporation of an idea. These doctrines, vaguely 
 conceived by imaginative young men, led them to write as 
 interpreters of a meaning concealed and revealed by the 
 symbols of the external world. They gave, in their 
 romantic stories, sentiments and thoughts to landscapes, 
 heard tales of wonder told by running brooks and water- 
 falls, and described, or implied, reciprocal relations existing 
 between man and the surrounding world. The thought thus 
 expressed in fantastic forms seems new and bold, when 
 pronounced as philosophy and written in prose ; but in 
 poetry it is far older than the time of Schelling. It has 
 been implied in the mythology and poetry of all nations; 
 and has been described by Steffens one of Schelling's 
 earliest disciples as a truth that can never be demon- 
 strated, but will always be believed. Eeduced to a concise 
 form of expression, or put in abstract terms, Schilling's 
 principle is equivalent to the assertion that truth is at once 
 subjective and objective. 
 
 About the time when the f< Philosophy of Nature" 
 appeared, Coleridge and Wordsworth were travelling in 
 Germany. The former was especially attracted by the new 
 theory; or rather by its leading idea, which he was well 
 able to develop. He could see at a glance, that it might 
 lead to deeper studies of history and mythology, but 
 especially to more comprehensive views of ethics and 
 religion. Indirectly his study of a philosophy that at first 
 was called "pantheistic" led him. on to more expanded 
 views of Christianity. Meanwhile he often talked of poetry 
 and philosophy with his friend Wordsworth, who could 
 admire Schelling's theory as viewed on its poetical side. 
 Some of the finest meditative passages in Wordsworth's 
 poetry are echoes of thoughts belonging partly to Schelling, 
 and partly to Coleridge ; for the latter was more than an 
 excellent interpreter. Wordsworth, it may be added, was 
 never led beyond the poetry of speculative philosophy. It 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 403 
 
 caused no disturbance of his religious belief. Of the 
 pantheism ascribed to some passages in his poetry he was 
 unconscious. His creed was that commonly accepted in the 
 Anglican Church. 
 
 Schelling's early theory greatly modified from time to 
 time led him at last to the new doctrine promulgated after 
 1841. The general tendency of his later teaching was 
 toward some reconciliation of philosophy with positive 
 religion. In his early theory he asserted the identity of 
 mind and nature. By several transitions found in his 
 writings, " On the Soul of the World" (1798), the "System 
 of Transcendental Idealism " (1800), "Bruno" (1802), and 
 the "Lectures on the Method of Academical Study" (1803) 
 he advanced to the doctrine of mysticism contained in 
 his work "On the Freedom of Man" (1809). His latest 
 teaching had a tendency to assert itself as Monotheism, in 
 opposition to Pantheism, and to refer the existence of moral 
 evil to its cause in a perversion of man's will. With this 
 leading idea was united a theory showing how all mytho- 
 logies were to be viewed as inquiries leading on to the 
 acceptance of a final revelation. 
 
 After leaving Jena (in 1808) Schelling gained the 
 appointment of secretary to the Academy at Munich, where 
 he was elected professor of philosophy in 1827. He was 
 called, in 1841, to Berlin, where he delivered a course of 
 lectures on " The Philosophy of Revelation."* Among his 
 hearers many complained that his principles were theosophic, 
 and could afford no satisfaction to earnest inquirers. After 
 this time his teaching was mostly neglected, or was 
 denounced as illiberal and retrogressive. The opposition he 
 had to encounter was bitter, and was sometimes too much 
 like persecution. He died in 1854. 
 
 Of all that has been said of German mysticism and 
 dreamery, the greater part relates to the speculative litera- 
 ture of Schelling's time. For English readers it is not 
 
 * " Philosophic cler Offenbarung ;" herausg. von Fr. Schelling. 
 2 Bande, 1858. 
 
 26 * 
 
404 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 easy to see Low his philosophy can be connected with the 
 simple question Is Christianity historically true ? It is not 
 directly so connected ; for history must of course answer 
 a purely historical question. But philosophy is, says 
 Schelling, accordant with ethics, as also with the history of 
 religions ; and serves to strengthen their evidence. Let it 
 be conceded that one Supreme Power rules in our con- 
 science, in nature, and in history the concession must give 
 additional force to the ethical argument. This is based on 
 the fact that man requires the aid of revelation. Ethical 
 feeling tells us that a revealed religion is desirable; and 
 philosophy says, at least, that it is possible. Still there 
 remains the question, " has a revelation taken place in the 
 course of the world's history?" There has taken place, 
 says Schelling, a gradual revelation. Obviously the strength 
 of this assertion rests in the principle always assumed as 
 true. The evidence afforded by history must, he says, be 
 accordant with that of our ethical conscience. Both are to 
 be regarded as based on one authority. Since, however, 
 Christianity has had a distinct historical beginning, the 
 philosopher is compelled by his own principle to class all 
 religions under the idea of revelation. This is the chief 
 point to be noticed here. First, however, some brief account 
 may be given of his earlier teaching, and of the mysticism 
 developed in his writings after 1809. 
 
 The time when Schelling first made himself a name was 
 especially a time of paradoxes. Philosophers maintained 
 as true some Christian tenets but rarely asserted, even 
 by theologians then called orthodox. For example, Hegel 
 held, he said, as substantially true the doctrine of the 
 Trinity, though it was here and there asserted but vaguely 
 in his earlier writings. Schelling, in his lectures published 
 in 1803, endeavoured to make some approximation toward 
 the doctrine of the Incarnation. It must not, however, be 
 supposed that his teaching, at this time, was on the whole 
 accordant with the doctrines still called orthodox in the 
 Lutheran Church. On the contrary, his estimate of the 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHILLING. HEGEL. 405 
 
 value of scriptural evidences, in tlieir support of Christian 
 tenets, was unsatisfactory in the extreme; especially as 
 regarded from a Lutheran point of view. The boldest trait 
 in the course of lectures here referred to was their opposition 
 to a theory of evolution once known as Lamarck' s, and but 
 little noticed at the time when Schelling published his 
 " Lectures on Method in Academical Studies."* Looking 
 back to the primitive condition of mankind, he then spoke 
 almost as boldly as Hesiod of that golden age when lived 
 a race of good, wise and happy men who, when their 
 generation had disappeared, were worshipped as gods and 
 heroes. That man, in his primitive condition, was but one 
 of many simian animals, climbing about in forests ; that he 
 lifted himself up from instinct to consciousness ; from animal 
 life to rational humanity this, says Schelling, is impossible. 
 Men inspired by God and endowed with reason lived in tho 
 earliest time. In no other way can we account for the 
 beginning and the spread of religion and culture. That 
 culture may die away and disappear in certain nations, is a 
 fact of which history makes us sure ; that it may, as it were 
 ah ovo et de novo, develop itself out of the conditions of 
 animal existence this we do not know. The first estate of 
 man was one of culture, founded on religion. That was the 
 alpha of humanity ; and a return of that golden age will 
 be the omega. This is the especial point in Sohelling's 
 teaching that has been almost unanimously rejected by 
 scientific men in our own day. 
 
 Schelling's bold speculation won for him disciples, and 
 made enemies. The time was especially one of restless 
 intellectual inquiry ; and heretical opinions afterwards 
 condemned were here and there spread among Catholics. 
 No creed or theory less comprehensive than pantheism 
 could serve for the bolder spirits of the age. Others 
 among them Steffens in his earlier years followed Schelling 
 for a time through his " philosophy of nature " but would 
 
 * " Vorlesungen iiber die Methode des akademischen Studiums ;" 
 1803. 
 
406 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 not follow him in his later teaching. Several wandered far 
 into mysticism of a dreamy and visionary kind. Con- 
 troversies followed ; and men who at heart were led by one 
 tendency were sometimes opposed to each other, and were 
 bitter foes. When a skirmish takes place in a dense wood, 
 the man who is readiest to fire may as likely hit a friend 
 as a foe. Errors of this sort often occurred. There was 
 awakened an earnest spirit of inquiry, not always associated 
 with patience and sobriety; and in too many instances, men 
 who had rebelled against the tyranny of logic allowed 
 themselves now to be led far astray by their own imagina- 
 tion. Religion so-called had been made a system so 
 hard, cold and drily intellectual that as some men boldly 
 said almost any form of heathen religion, or superstition 
 if poetical might be preferable. Schelling had some skill 
 in controversy; and often invited attacks. One of the 
 accusations preferred against him was the alleged fact, that 
 he had been studying the writings of Christian mystics. 
 " I have not read them " he replied " but for this I claim 
 no credit ; it has been a case of neglect, and I shall now 
 betake myself to the study of those writings/' The whole 
 of his reply on this occasion is worth notice ; and one short 
 passage may be quoted here : 
 
 "We treat with respect tlie practical piety of men who avoid 
 speculative questions relating to religious faith. They endeavour 
 to obey God's commands ; and in this, they believe, consists the 
 substance of religion. We honour the simple faitk of these men. 
 But the case is altered when there steps forward a moral philosopher ; 
 one who would make us believe that morals should now take the place 
 of religion. He knows, in fact, no more than has been said already 
 by modest men of practical piety; but he wishes to make it sound 
 like something more. He therefore goes on to speak of 'moral order/ 
 of which the Infinite he tells us is but a personification ; and next 
 he informs us, that if we believe in anything more than this morality 
 made absolute, we are superstitious. How do men of common sense 
 reply to such a preacher? ' Hold your tongue, and come down/ they 
 say ; ' for though you make a loud sound, even like a noise of many 
 waters, you know as little of the matter as we ourselves.' " 
 
 Schelling's general estimate of rationalism including all 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 407 
 
 the logic that he called " negative " has been briefly given. 
 He defined it as a mere " suppressio veri." His promise, 
 that he would study the writings of men called mystics, 
 was soon fulfilled; and the result was seen in the new 
 religious tendency of his speculative philosophy. At the same 
 time, his ethical teaching was made more directly contrary 
 to the commonplace morality of deism and popular philo- 
 sophy. His first endeavour now was to claim for intuition, 
 instinct, and sentiment on one side, and for history and 
 religion on the other, some share of the attention that had 
 long been too exclusively bestowed on subjective reasoning 
 and system-making. It was chiefly in 1809 that his teaching 
 assumed a distinctly religious character. The ideas of man's 
 fall and his need of a divine revelation were afterwards 
 made more prominent ; and it was asserted that history and 
 philosophy, without the presence of religion, could say 
 nothing to shed light over the mysteries of human life 
 (pp. 229, 245). The theory of religion was now made more 
 and more mystical. Revelation was defined as a light 
 dawning slowly and gleaming fitfully through many reli- 
 gions ; at last shining out clearly. Critics complained that 
 Schilling was now wandering far away from daylight. On 
 the other hand he replied, that the light of rationalism was 
 artificial ; and that its doctrines, though often called clear, 
 were in fact obscure. In order to come forth at last into the 
 light of day, said he, we must venture at first to descend into 
 the gloom of deep research. We must find our way through 
 a valley where shadows are interspersed among mysterious 
 lights. These and similar observations now lead on to dark 
 questionings respecting man's original freedom ; and these 
 lead us on farther to a theory of evil first possible, and 
 permitted; then made real by wilful transgression and 
 rebellion. Schelling leads us down into abysses of mystic 
 speculation while he is describing the consequences of man's 
 fall. His spiritual powers have been perverted by an original 
 sin, but feebly indicated by our word " pride/' as commonly 
 understood. For " pride ; ' is here to be understood in an 
 
408 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 extreme sense, as denoting self-assertion, wilfulness, and 
 " hardness of heart/' refusing to acknowledge and feel 
 dependence on the wisdom, goodness and love of the Creator. 
 The doctrine here has obviously been derived chiefly from 
 studies of Bohme's theosophy; and must be described as 
 almost Manichean. It is added, that the utmost evil that 
 creatures endowed with freedom can perpetrate was origi- 
 nally allowed to be possible, in order that Divine Love 
 more and more made manifest throughout the whole course 
 of spiritual warfare might appear as consistent with the 
 development of freedom, and in the .end might have its 
 highest possible triumph. Schelling contends, that without 
 ' ' a possibility of evil 3> neither freedom nor personality could 
 exist in finite beings. 
 
 That which asserts itself in opposition to Divine Love 
 cannot create anything; cannot expand or develop any 
 power created, or bestowed on creatures ; it is but negation, 
 or perversion and deterioration of a power originally good 
 and still indestructible. The sins of mankind are so many 
 perversions of faculties all .good at first, and all capable of 
 restoration but not by any strength merely human. 
 
 This is a point to be especially noticed in Schelling's reli- 
 gious philosophy. His teaching here has been called "mystic," 
 " theosophic," and " hopelessly obscure ;" and yet he main- 
 tains that it is accordant with the history of mankind, and 
 with the history of ancient religions. They were all, he 
 says, but so many guesses and inquiries, leading on toward 
 one revelation. They were shadows; but they indicated 
 the existence of a substance. They all expressed though 
 more or less obscurely a divine idea. They implied, or 
 formally confessed, the fall of man, and his consequent 
 ethical separation from God. Lastly, they all confessed a 
 need of some mediation, by which union with God might 
 be restored. 
 
 Enough has been told to show how far Schelling has 
 led us away from the position held by the deists of the 
 eighteenth century. As we have seen (pp. 38-40) they 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHILLING. HEGEL. 409 
 
 maintained that a divine revelation, such as Christians 
 believe in, has not been granted ; and further, that it has 
 never been needed. To change the form of their negations 
 they asserted the actual, moral, and intellectual inde- 
 pendence of man; though they always supposed an original 
 dependence on his Creator, and a constant physical 
 dependence on the world of nature. After all that has been 
 told of Schelling's first principle that truth is at once 
 subjective and objective it will be obvious that he could 
 not accept the chief dogma of deism. To say nothing here 
 of Christianity he could not speak contemptuously of 
 Judaism. Its tenets had been accepted as the faith of 
 millions ; had been for centuries associated with habits of 
 virtue and piety ; had been united with the brightest hopes 
 and the kindest affections of a people whose religion was 
 their life. Schelling was bound by his own principle to 
 treat their religion, not merely as a great fact, but as one 
 containing substantial and divine truth. But this was not 
 all that he was compelled to admit as true in the various 
 religions of the world, ancient and modern. To show the 
 result to which he was inevitably led by his principle, it 
 may be imagined here, that some attempt is made to refute 
 him by means of a "reductio ad absurdum." You must 
 recognize then, says the formal logician, some truth in the 
 worship of Apollo and Diana. You must find also some 
 good reason for the reverence paid, in the oldest times, to 
 benevolent demons or genii, such for example as are named 
 by Hesiod : 
 
 avrap eirei^rj TOVTO 76^09 /caret, yala Ko 
 Tol fj,ev 
 eaO\ol i 
 
 KOI TOVTO yepas 
 
 * " When in the grave this race of men was laid, 
 Soon was a world of holy demons made, 
 
410 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 To such objections as are here supposed the philosopher's 
 reply would be simply this : I do recognize truth in that 
 worship ; and I see some good reason for that reverence. 
 Both were rooted in one idea an idea of union with God. 
 In connection with this idea there is expressed in all 
 religions a consciousness of sin. Under one form or another, 
 the truth is confessed, that the energies of man's soul and 
 mind have fallen into disorder, and have lost their sense of 
 union with their Creator. The tendencies that were organic 
 have been made chaotic. Yet light shines through the 
 chaos, and through all its warring elements there is felt - 
 above all in the heart of man the presence of an all- 
 pervading, attracting power, drawing the world of created 
 minds back to their Creator. Hence, in the midst of all 
 their disorder and perversity of will, we recognize the 
 presence of one divine idea making itself more and more 
 manifest amid all our various and defective forms of religion. 
 Through all their diverse and sometimes contradictory 
 traditions and tenets, there runs one clue, by which mankind 
 will ultimately be led home to God. 
 
 This view of heathen religions was opposed to the doctrine 
 of some Christian apologists. Their way of defending their 
 own faith was to treat as utterly erroneous every Pagan 
 tradition. On the contrary, Schelling held that a tendency 
 toward a true belief had more or less been present amid the 
 errors of heathenism. Men, he said, believed and worshipped 
 ignorantly ; yet were led on toward the truth. There was 
 more or less of a true ethical tendency associated with their 
 religious traditions and ritualistic institutions. A light 
 
 Aerial spirits, by great Jove design'd 
 To be on earth the guardians of mankind. 
 
 They can reward with glory or with gold ; 
 A power they by divine commission hold." 
 Hesiod, " Opp. ct Dies," 121-6. 
 
 Coolccs Translation. 
 

 CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 411 
 
 which they could nob comprehend shone through their 
 darkness. 
 
 This theory was held as not inconsistent with a belief that 
 the religion of Israel served especially as a preparation for 
 the coming of Christ, who was " the desire of all nations." 
 For here, in Judaism, a consciousness of sin was especially 
 awakened by the law, which was " holy." There, in the 
 Gentile world, a poetic mythology was to a large extent 
 corrupt in its ethical purport ; the sense of man's sinfulness 
 was mostly superficial ; and the idea of union or reconciliation 
 with God was therefore shallow. For want of depth, there 
 was a want of height. Ideas of mediation mostly imagina- 
 tive rather than religious did, however, exist in heathenism; 
 and indirectly foreshadowed the coming of Christ. They 
 were signs, says Schelling, of his pre- existential and 
 spiritual presence ; and were not altogether neglected by 
 the more religious men of the ancient world. These ideas 
 were accepted by several Protestant theologians of the 
 higher rank for example by Tholuck and served to 
 enlarge their views of prophecy and its fulfilments. A new 
 light was cast on the history of both heathenism and 
 Judaism. Students of the prophetic scriptures now learned 
 that not only a few texts, but the whole of the Old 
 Testament, might be viewed as a prophecy of the Advent. 
 
 Here we must leave the teaching of Schelling, and turn 
 to a very difficult task to give some account of the 
 " Hegelian School." It has been the especial calamity of 
 Germany in the present century, that the intellectual and 
 analytical element in education has been made predominant 
 to an extent wilful, tyrannical and destructive. The his- 
 torical, the ethical, the religious, and (we would add) the 
 intuitive and "sentimental" all these forms, in which 
 divine truth makes itself known, felt, and operative in the 
 soul have been oppressed, trodden down, and in fact 
 destroyed, in order that some form of logic or another may, 
 for some few years, make itself absolute. And what has 
 been the result ? Desolation, without the quietude that, 
 
412 GERMAN CULTUEE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 one might suppose, should belong to a desert. Clearness 
 of insight is the very last thing to be attained, even by the 
 most reverent and faithful of students ; and it will never be 
 obtained by negation. It was especially a want of clearness 
 that was the charge preferred against Schelling, when his 
 teaching was made more positive; when he was led to treat 
 more and more reverently the results of historical, ethical 
 and religious inquiry. That inquiry led him to a profound 
 belief in two facts: the world, including especially the 
 mind and will of mankind, has been set in opposition to 
 divine love; and by a new manifestation of this love a 
 mediatorial process has been instituted. Without these 
 admissions he said history, religion, and philosophy were 
 but dead subjects for dissection ; and this dissection could 
 have for him no interest no hope of any good result. 
 
 In order to place together our notices of Schelling's 
 philosophy the earlier and the later the order of time has 
 been neglected. During almost twenty years but especially 
 in 1818-31 his teaching was for the most part disregarded; 
 and men especially complained of his "want of logic." 
 This reminds one of a time remembered by the few old 
 Oxonians still living. Soon after the passing of our Reform 
 Bill, when the University of Oxford was a centre of contro- 
 versy, political and ecclesiastical, it was said of a certain 
 room there, that its atmosphere was " redolent of logic." 
 With more justice might the same be said of the Berlin 
 University, for some few years before that time. There a 
 morbid tendency to excess in the culture (or cultus) of the 
 mere intellect has long existed ; but this was never so much 
 the case as in the years 1820-35; or say more definitely in 
 the five years 1827-31. There was then on all sides too 
 much haste and impetuosity in grappling with the hardest 
 problems of reason and faith. Schelling, living in compara- 
 tive obscurity, predicted that the result would be negative; 
 and Goethe who, in his old age, heard now and then some- 
 thing of discussion at Berlin, suggested that religion was a 
 subject to be approached in another way (p. 316). It was 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 413 
 
 Hegel's logic that was now making itself more and more 
 predominant. For a time say in 1820-26 the teaching 
 of Schleiermacher held what might be called a rival position; 
 but in 1827-31 the said logic made itself almost "absolute," 
 in the University of Berlin. For a time it was viewed as a 
 study leading to conclusions of a conservative character, as 
 regards both religion and politics. But after 1831 its 
 negative results were made apparent. 
 
 How far did these " negative results " truly belong to 
 Hegel, or fairly represent his meaning and intention ? This 
 is a question that here will still be left open ; since we write 
 for the most part historically, and have to show chiefly how 
 that logic was so understood as to afford a basis for the 
 hypotheses maintained by Strauss and others, who all sup- 
 posed that they were writing more or less in accordance 
 with the conclusions of that logic. It had shown, as they 
 believed, how the chief ideas represented in nature, in. 
 history, and in the traditions and doctrines of religion 
 especially the Christian religion were in truth ideas 
 "immanent," or always abiding in the mind of man; just 
 as life was supposed to be a force always immanent in nature, 
 and ready to start forth as it were, and make itself manifest 
 wherever the conditions favourable to its self -development 
 were present and connected. 
 
 A little consideration will suffice to show how this general 
 idea could be so understood as to afford apparently some 
 basis for either of the two distinct theories of Strauss and 
 Baur, respecting the origin of the Christian faith and its 
 chief tenets. It was granted on all sides that this faith, 
 appearing in the first century, was largely " developed " 
 near the close of the second. How ? By the aid of 
 "myths" said Strauss; while Baur had far more to say of 
 " ideas developed by means of opposition." Both, however, 
 had one common assumption as their ground. Each sup- 
 posed that the ideas developed, whether by means of poetry 
 or by controversy, were there already " immanent " in the 
 minds of men. The time 1-150 was eminently well adapted 
 
414 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 for their development so said Baur in his writings on 
 early Church history and consequently no supernatural 
 revelation was required. This may be viewed as the 
 1 ' speculative " or ' ' philosophical " ground of the new 
 controversy against historical Christian faith. The chief 
 novelty of the attack begun in 1835 and ended in 1873 
 consisted in the supposed fact that unbelief had now a basis 
 in the " philosophy of religion/' and might indeed be 
 viewed as a " speculative-religious " argument against 
 historical religion. In passing it may be added, that the 
 supposed basis of 1835 was utterly rejected by Strauss in 
 1873; but this is not the point to be chiefly noticed here. 
 The new controversial movement did in fact proceed out of 
 the "Hegelian School" of 1827-35, of which, therefore, 
 some account must be giyen. This, however, will be for 
 the most part historical ; and will chiefly have the aim of 
 making clear the fact, that there have existed so far as 
 regards religion three distinct interpretations of the doc- 
 trine taught in that school. The first, as held by Strauss, 
 is clearly erroneous; and is in substance an abolition of 
 all religion. The second interpretation has been so widely 
 accepted by a large number of intelligent men including, 
 for example, Biedermanu and Pfleiderer that it must now 
 be viewed as the established form of Hegelian religious 
 doctrine. The third interpretation a subordinate matter 
 will be noticed in another place. Here first must be 
 given some general account of the school and its doctrines; 
 and then must be more distinctly noticed the following fact, 
 which we have chiefly to consider : Whether it was brought 
 to pass by a false or by a true interpretation of the said 
 logic, we do not care to inquire ; it remains true, however, 
 that the main result of Hegelian logic was certainly one 
 much like that which Schelliug clearly predicted ; especially 
 when he said, " it will be negative." Throughout his later 
 lectures and writings his chief aim was to keep logic in its 
 own subservient place, and first of all to direct attention 
 toward ethical and historical studies, as affording the surest 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 415 
 
 guidance toward religious faith. He assumed as granted a 
 first principle held in common by all men and everywhere : 
 The Supreme Being makes himself known in three ways, 
 and in various degrees : in nature, as displayed all around 
 us ; in our conscience, and in universal history, of which the 
 result is a general conscience of humanity. This general 
 conscience demands such a revelation as is granted to us in 
 Christ. Such was the conclusion to which Schelling was 
 leading young men, at the time when their attention was 
 called away by the higher pretensions of the Hegelian 
 School. 
 
 Here must be noticed briefly the circumstances leading to 
 the temporary dominion of this school. The closest possible 
 union of studies physical, ethical, philosophical, and reli- 
 giousthis was the common aim of philosophy after the 
 time when Kant had drawn his hard boundary-line between 
 that which we can know and that which we cannot know. 
 To say nothing more of the dualism in which his teaching 
 ended (p. 179), he leffc a division strongly marked between 
 the intellect and the moral conscience. Fichte asserted 
 that philosophy must be a deduction from one principle. 
 Schelling taught that the basis of philosophy must be found, 
 not in reasoning, but in a primary intuition of union ever 
 existing between mind and its object. This union in apparent 
 disunion, Hegel asserted, must be developed by a logical 
 method. If a thought is deep and true, he says, its capa- 
 bility of expansion will be as great as its depth; it can 
 survive its encounters with all possible contradictions, and 
 will make all oppositions serve as a means of its own 
 development. These and similar assertions, made in the 
 preface to the " Phenomenology of the Mind" (1807), 
 indicated the work which the writer afterwards endeavoured 
 to perform in his " Logic" (1812) and in his " Encyclo- 
 paedia" (1817). Hegel's was a most laborious effort to find 
 union in all the departments of knowledge. He endeavoured 
 to unite metaphysics with a logical method, by which all 
 the categories should be united in one sequence. 
 
416 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 GEORG WILHELM FRIEDHICH HEGEL was born at Stuttgart, 
 August 27, 1770. After receiving his early training at the 
 Gymnasium in his native place, he went to* study theology 
 at the University of Tubingen, where he became acquainted 
 with Schelling. Soon after leaving Tubingen, he was 
 engaged as a private tutor at Berne. After leaving Berne, 
 in 1796,he lived asa private tutorin Frankfort (1797-1800), 
 and during his stay there was an industrious student. He 
 wrote during those years, in very simple and dispassionate 
 language, a " Life of Christ." In this narrative there is no 
 trace of irreverence or old-fashioned rationalism ; but it is 
 noticeable that not a word is said of any miraculous events. 
 He went to Jena in 1801. There he again met Schelling, 
 whom he assisted in editing " A Critical Journal of Philo- 
 sophy" (1802-3), in which he published his abstruse treatise 
 on "Faith and Science." He gained a professorship at 
 Jena in 1805, and, in the course of that and the following 
 year, wrote his treatise, the " Phenomenology of the Mind." 
 In the preface to this work he first clearly expressed his 
 dissent from Schilling's discursive style of teaching, and 
 indicated his own dialectic method, which was afterwards 
 fully developed in his "Logic." He was finishing the 
 "Phenomenology" (1806) when the thunders of French 
 artillery at Jena disturbed his philosophic speculations, and 
 drove him away to find some scanty means of subsistence at 
 Bamberg, where, for a short time, he edited a political 
 journal. He soon, however, gained (1808) a better appoint- 
 ment as rector of the Gymnasium at Niirnberg. It is 
 noticeable that in this position he was strict in demanding 
 attention to ethical and religious studies. In 1816 he was 
 appointed professor of philosophy at Heidelberg, where ho 
 published (1817) his smaller "Encyclopasdia," containing a 
 summary of his whole system of teaching, but without the 
 explanatory notes which were appended to it in a later 
 edition. He remained in comparative obscurity until 1818, 
 when he was invited to take the chair of philosophy at the 
 University of Berlin. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHILLING. HEGEL. 417 
 
 In his opening address, delivered in October, 1818, he 
 spoke of the University of Berlin as destined to bo recog- 
 nized as the middle-point of the civilized world, or as the 
 centre of intellectual culture ; and he asserted, on the same 
 occasion, that religion and philosophy must be united with 
 a true political progress. Though he maintained that the 
 development of freedom was the goal of all history, his views 
 of progress were so far moderate that he was generally 
 regarded as a conservative in politics. He thus gained the 
 support of the Altenstein ministry. His treatise on the 
 " Philosophy of Eights" was published in 1821. He 
 advocated a representation of the people, freedom of the 
 press, trial by jury, and the administrative independence of 
 civic corporations. His assertion that political government 
 must always require the aid of religion has already been 
 noticed (pp. 172-3). He defended the union of Church and 
 State as established in Prussia. His views respecting that 
 union were Erastian. In his later years his conservative 
 tendencies were strengthened by the occurrence of the July 
 Revolution, and by the discussion excited by the English 
 Reform Bill. He wrote in 1830 an article on this proposed 
 measure. While adhering to his judgment in favour of the 
 English form of government, he expressed fears respecting 
 the results of political changes based on theory. He con- 
 tended that freedom in England had long consisted in a 
 supposed balance of interests ; and that the introduction of 
 theoretical principles could not be safe without a great 
 improvement in education. 
 
 The later days of Hegel's life were embittered by the 
 philosophical and theological disputes to which he refers in 
 the preface to the third edition of his " Encyclopgedia." In 
 1830 he was appointed Rector of the University of Berlin. 
 He was preparing a new edition of his "Logic" (1831), 
 when his labours were ended by a sudden attack of the 
 epidemic Asiatic cholera then prevalent. He was soon 
 prostrated by the disease, and died November 14, 1831. A 
 few years after his death, his writings including, besides 
 
 27 
 
418 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 those already named, Lectures on the " Philosophy of Reli- 
 gion," on the " History of Philosophy/' on the " Philosophy 
 of History," and on " ^Esthetics" were collected and 
 edited by a number of his friends and disciples. 
 
 Hegel's first principle asserts that truth, or union, 
 always has opposition for its means of development; con- 
 sequently nothing that he calls true can be fairly expressed 
 in the form of any one or simple proposition. There 
 are always three propositions required. For example, in 
 the first general idea of religion Man, in his first state 
 of consciousness, is a creature whose natural life is controlled 
 by his own will. But, secondly, he is capable of knowing 
 and- feeling the presence of a universal will, to which his 
 own ought to be subordinated. Thirdly, between these two 
 facts of conscience some union more or less satisfactory 
 takes place; and this union is religion. More briefly, 
 religion may now be defined as man's conscious submission 
 to God's will ; but, he says, " the three moments " so he 
 calls the three propositions are still here ; implied though 
 not formally expressed. He then goes on to show that 
 union does not result out of mere negation. Thus in the 
 example given man's will, he says, is not destroyed, but is 
 subordinated. The result therefore is a union at once divine 
 and human. The " logic " so-called, but in fact a system 
 of abstruse metaphysics has for its first principle or 
 immanent moving force the idea of union as ever subsisting 
 under the forms of opposition; and the aim of the whole 
 process is nothing less than a refutation of the proposi- 
 tion : " Omnis determinatio est negatio." This is the 
 shortest description we can give in terms that may be 
 called intelligible. 
 
 Obviously an attempt to make clearer or even popular the 
 initiatory notion here indicated, would only be tedious and 
 useless. The " logic," as employed to develop religious 
 ideas, has served to excite long and abstruse controversies ; 
 and it is granted even by its most diligent students, that 
 it has been unhappily placed as the beginning of a system. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLINQ. HEGEL. 419 
 
 Hegel's metaphysics have served to lead many intelligent 
 men into labyrinths of doubt, and far away from intellectual 
 daylight. At the same time it has been often noticed, that 
 his writings contain some remarkably comprehensive ideas 
 especially those relating to history, politics and ethics. 
 For the very best of these ideas he was doubtless indebted 
 to Christianity ; as will be seen clearly enough in the 
 abstract subjoined. If ever the philosopher speaks in 
 language that is clear to men of ordinary intelligence, it is 
 when he writes thus of politics and ethics, which must ever, 
 he says, be united. 
 
 Man he says is horn in nature, but it is his destination to come 
 out of or to rise above nature, and to attain the freedom that essen- 
 tially belongs to the mind. His first act of overcoming the separations 
 of natural life is to recognize himself in others ; or to know his 
 fellow-men as, in substance, identical with himself. This act of 
 mutual recognition introduces a transition from the natural bellum 
 omnium contra omnes (warfare of everyone against everyone) into a 
 rational and social state of life. The private and egotistic will 
 becomes social and objective, and expresses itself in the sacred 
 dictates of just laws. The morality of the individual is imperfect or 
 one-sided, so long as it does not recognize itself in the essential 
 institutions and conditions of society. Of these one of the first is 
 marriage, which, says Hegel, should be regarded, not as an affair of 
 sentiment or passion, but as a bond of the strictest obligation. Its 
 dissolution should always be made as difficult as possible. Facile 
 divorce is the road to social dissolution. The self-government of men 
 in their municipal corporations should train a people to recognize 
 the State as supreme, and to enjoy the advantages of limited and 
 representative monarchy. [Hegel's doctrine of freedom may be 
 stated as follows.] The progress of mankind, of which history is tlie 
 record, has for its aim the liberation of men from their natural 
 bondage under the sway of their passions, and their restoration to the 
 freedom which belongs essentially to the mind of man. This freedom 
 must be at once internal and external, including, first, liberation from 
 an innate servitude to nature, and, secondly, freedom of action in 
 accordance with laws founded in universal reason. The aim of the 
 world's progress is to realize more and more this, the common liberty 
 of many persons acting in concert and as having one will a freedom 
 that shall be outwardly expressed in just institutions, and inwardly 
 enjoyed in a cheerful assent to external laws. There the mind shall 
 
 27 * 
 
420 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 find in external institutions only the expressions of its own true 
 thoughts, and in this union of the inind with the social and political 
 world there can exist no sense of bondage ; for all bondage implies 
 disunion. The three chief stages in the development of the idea of 
 freedom may be named respectively the Oriental, the Antique- 
 European (or Grecian), and the Christian. In the first stage 
 Oriental Despotism one monarchic will alone is free. The eastern 
 despot is the solitary " Ego ;" the constitutional king is the dot placed 
 over the letter i. When Friedrich Wilhelm III was told thab Hegel 
 had called the King of Prussia "a dot," he replied, with good 
 humour, " Well ; but the dot is wanted to make the letter complete." 
 
 We have noticed, offcener than once, now strangely men 
 have forgotten the simple historical fact that our modern 
 idea of freedom is one for which we are indebted to 
 Christianity^ (pp. 204-7; 222-4). This fact, as we see here, 
 is not overlooked by Hegel. It is noticed especially in his 
 " Philosophy of History ;" and is often mentioned in various 
 other parts of his writings. We give here an abstract of 
 his ideas respecting Christian freedom. 
 
 A true king, says Hegel, represents the will of reason as supreme 
 over all self-will, including his own. In a despotic State, morals, 
 laws, and religious institutions are all external, or, in other words, are 
 not reflected in the individual conscience. They may be, or indeed 
 must be, more or less intelligible and reasonable, for God governs the 
 world ; but they are not firmly based upon moral freedom. The great 
 work of the ancient free states of Greece was, therefore, to prevent 
 the spread of Oriental Despotism in Europe. Hence the battles of 
 Marathon, Thermopylae, and Plataea were fought for the interest of 
 the whole world, and Alexander's victories were made agents for 
 extending civilization and culture. But the development of freedom 
 in the states of antiquity was partial. It existed there in a harsh 
 contrast with the condition of the slaves. Freedom was a special 
 privilege enjoyed by the citizens of a certain state, but was not defined 
 as the general destination of man. The Athenians had, indeed, no 
 true general ideas either of God or of man. " The God of the 
 Nations " was, for the Athenians, "an unknown God." Accordingly, 
 there was an absolute gulph left between themselves and all 
 barbarians; in other words, all the peoples who were not Greeks. 
 The question has been raised, " why has the institution of slavery 
 disappeared from modern Europe ?" and first one ground, then 
 another, has been referred to, in order to explain the remarkable fact. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 421 
 
 But the true ground is found only in the essential principle of 
 Christianity itself. The Christian religion is the religion of absolute 
 freedom. This great thought that freedom is the universal destination 
 of man was first introduced to the world by the Christian religion, and 
 can be realized only by a universal sway of Christian morality. 
 
 There was nothing in the whole of Hegel's teaching that, 
 during his life -time, served so well as this doctrine of 
 freedom to recommend the general tendency of his philo- 
 sophy. Its leading principle was thus made comparatively 
 clear, when it was developed as illustrated in the true 
 Christian idea of freedom. 
 
 Freedom and law, he says, are opposite notions, and their opposi- 
 tion is so strong that unhappily many minds can never grasp the two 
 as one. Yet what is abstract freedom in itself but a mere wilful 
 negation of all the bonds of society ? And, on the other side, what 
 are just laws but necessary means for the attainment of true freedom ? 
 Grasp the two thoughts in their own union, and you have the more 
 comprehensive thought of a true and spiritual liberation of the will 
 from the slavery of nature and egoism the act of liberation which 
 expresses itself as personality. The same true and harmonizing 
 freedom is felt as well as thought of as the love that finds its own 
 interests in those of others. So the law that demands the sacrifice of 
 the first false and egotistic freedom leads to the development of 
 another and a higher freedom which is identical with true happiness. 
 In the ethics of the Christian religion this only true process of 
 liberation is described as a union so perfect, that Christian liberty is 
 in fact only another name for love. 
 
 As we have already intimated, no part of Hegel's philo- 
 sophy has led into so many wordy and confused contro- 
 versies as that which relates especially to historical religion. 
 The discussions here suggested will be more distinctly 
 noticed in some later pages, where we shall have to define 
 chiefly the two opposite interpretations of Strauss and 
 Pfleiderer. Meanwhile some little attention must be paid 
 to his doctrine of aesthetics. The individual man, we are 
 told, must rise above his early subjection to nature, must 
 subdue its passions, and make himself, to a certain degree. 
 
422 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 independent of its cares and perturbations, before he can 
 enjoy in art the expression of ideas through a sensuous 
 medium. He is then able to contemplate nature as a trans- 
 parent veil through which divine ideas are shining. In 
 architecture the material element prevails over the intel- 
 lectual. In sculpture every part of the material employed 
 serves the purpose of expressing the idea; but the soul still 
 finds no perfectly adequate expression. Something is 
 wanting to animate the work of art ; and this animating 
 soul, with its rich and powerful language of lights and 
 shades, as well as forms and colours and softly-blending or 
 clearly- contrasted tones, finds a higher expression in 
 painting. Art finds a more subjective form of expression 
 in the sensations and emotions that are blended in music. 
 Then all the powers of art are united in poetry. The richer 
 and deeper the thought expressed in a poem, the higher the 
 value of poetry; but the thought must be clothed by 
 imagination and not barely presented as in science. Thus 
 the "Antigone" of Sophocles is a sublime tragedy, of 
 which the form is truly dramatic, while the substance is a 
 profound truth the assertion of divine and eternal laws : 
 
 dypairra /ca 
 
 Hegel had the highest admiration of the poetry and the 
 artistic culture of the ancient Greeks ; but he described 
 their religion " the religion of beauty " as too shallow to 
 be permanent. It could not, he says, endure a philosophical 
 investigation. On the contrary, he speaks of Christianity 
 as " the absolute revealed religion," and as revealing truth 
 in the form in which " it must appear for all mankind/' He 
 speaks of a rejection of what he calls the fundamental 
 doctrines of Christianity on account of some associated 
 historic doubts and difficulties as "foolish and pitiable." 
 Still the question has been proposed, and often repeated : 
 "What did he really believe historically respecting the 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 423 
 
 chief tenet of the Christian Religion ?" He thus defines 
 its principal idea : " The essence of religion is a reconcilia- 
 tion of the Infinite with the Finite. In its earliest stage, 
 religion appears as a prostration of the mind under the 
 deified powers of nature; then follows Judaism, 'the 
 religion of sublimity/ a faith in one Supreme Intelligence 
 and Moral Will as the Euler of an elect people." This is 
 surely a poor idea of Judaism, which served especially to 
 impress on the minds of men the idea of holiness a fact 
 granted by the author, in other parts of his writings. Here 
 he goes on next to place Judaism in contrast with Hellenism 
 "the religion of beauty/' in which men, or the attri- 
 butes of men, appear as gods, but without a true and 
 powerful subordination of nature. The gods of Greece were 
 not spiritual. By the Christian Religion alone, the eternally 
 true and real union of the divine with the human is revealed 
 in the sufferings of the Mediator and in the forgiveness 
 of sins. It might be supposed, that the question above 
 named would be answered by such words as these ; or by 
 the following, taken from a speech delivered in Berlin 
 (1830) : 
 
 " We are taught by our doctrine of Christian liberty, that 
 to every man belongs the privilege of knowing God, and 
 of approaching him in adoration and prayer. Each for 
 himself has a faculty of access to God, who distinctly makes 
 himself known in each individual conscience. He whom we 
 adore is not subject to any of the passions [or limitations] 
 of nature. He is truth and eternal reason, having [in 
 himself] the consciousness and intelligence of that reason. 
 With this consciousness of reason God has willed that man 
 also shall be endowed; shall thus be made different from 
 animals, and shall in truth be made God's image ; so that 
 the human mind a spark of eternal light shall be made 
 pervious to that light. Moreover, in order that man may 
 thus be endowed, God has revealed to the human race the 
 truth, that to himself belongs as immanent in himself' 
 the idea of human nature. He thus has made known his 
 
424 GEEMAN CULTUEE AND CHEISTIANITY. 
 
 will, that men should love God, and have power and 
 confidence of access to his presence.* 
 
 The "philosophy of religion" it is said has to show 
 how the ideas set forth in history, believed by the Church, 
 and known as true in the experience of believers, are 
 moreover to be conceived as links belonging to one sequence 
 of ideas. Out of this general proposition, concerning the 
 relations of philosophy and religion, have arisen mostly the 
 questions and discussions that were formerly protracted to 
 a wearisome degree, and at the present time are not for- 
 gotten. Some notion of that " strict sequence " by which, 
 it is said, " religious philosophy is made distinct from 
 religion," may perhaps be conveyed most readily by means 
 of the subjoined abstract : 
 
 It has already been shown [in the history of religion] that man's 
 most distinct characteristic is his capability of religious feeling, faith, 
 and thought. He is conscious, or can be made conscious of the 
 truth, that he must not lire in and for himself alone. Yet to a large 
 extent he does live so ; and hence his consciousness of sin. It is 
 obvious that this consciousness has been especially deepened and 
 strengthened by Christianity ; but it has also existed in all ages. For 
 example, when we go back far bej-ond our era, we may read in the 
 " Rigveda " words like these addressed to Varuna, one of " the gods of 
 heaven :" " Forgive us our hereditary guilt, and that which we have 
 incurred through the act of our own hand."f This consciousness of 
 
 * The original Latin is subjoined: "Libertatem autem Chris- 
 tianam earn esse intelligimus, ut unus quisque dignus declaratus sit, 
 qui ad Deum accedat cum cognoscendo, precando, colendo, ut negotium 
 quod sibi cum Deo sit, Deo cum homine, quisque cum Deo ipse 
 peragat, Deus ipse in mente humana perficiat. Neque cum Deo 
 aliquo negotium nobis est, qui natune affectibus sit obnoxius, sed qui 
 sit veritas, ratio seterna, ejusque rationis conscientia et mens. Hac 
 autem rationis conscientia Deus hominem esse prseditum atque ita a 
 brutis animalibus diversum voluit, ut Dei esset effigies, atque mens 
 humana, quippe eeternse lucis scintilla, liuic luci pervia. Ideo porro, 
 quod homo Dei esset imago, Deus humana) naturae ideam sibi vere 
 inesse mortali generi palam fecit, atque amari se ab hominibus et 
 permisit et voluit, eisque sui adeundi infinitam largitus est facultatem 
 ac fiduciam." 
 
 t Eigveda j vii., 86, 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCIIELLING. HEGEL. 425 
 
 sia is at once man's misery and his most distinctive feature. In his 
 self-assertion however bold and determined he remains still 
 conscious of a presence by which his own will is and ought to be 
 limited and controlled. There is in a word duality in his nature ; and 
 unless all sense of this duality be removed, he cannot enjoy that true 
 freedom which is found only in a sense of reconciliation and union. 
 Accordingly, man wants nothing less than a liberation from himself. 
 He cannot find this by means of any mere flight from nature ; nor in 
 anything like Stoicism, which would be but an attempt to assert his 
 independence. But may he not, by his own higher will, or by means 
 of persevering ethical self-reformation, find reconciliation ? To many 
 this may at first sight seem possible. Man, they will suppose, may 
 endeavour to make himself his own will and life conformable to 
 his idea of the divine will. Still there remains the question of God's 
 own will. Is this will favourable to reconciliation with man ? There 
 can be given no sure answer, unless it have the certainty and force of 
 a divine revelation. It must be believed, that the union which man 
 would have and know, as realized in his own conscience, has first of 
 all been revealed as a divine truth. And since this truth is one that 
 all men should know, it must be clearly and objectively set forth, or 
 made manifest to all men, and as a fact. As man God himself must 
 appear and make himself known to mankind. The first proclamation 
 of the universal reign of God in the " kingdom of heaven "must 
 consist in the annunciation of the truth, " that God was in Christ, 
 reconciling the world unto himself." The truth must be seen, and 
 hence we are led to believe in the " stupendous fact " that God as man 
 was born in a certain time and a certain place ; that he died, and 
 arose from the dead to appear no more in a state of humiliation, but 
 henceforth to make himself known as " a quickening Spirit " in the 
 souls of all believers. In them the truth of Christ's life and death 
 shows itself capable of an infinite expansion and realization. The 
 Church exists, not only as a memorial, but as a continuation of that 
 same reconciliatory process first instituted and in itself made complete 
 in the life and death of the Mediator. What has been done for us 
 must be done also in us. It is already done, but not as an ordinary 
 act, that is to pass away and give place to another, or henceforth to 
 be regarded as belonging only to history. It is not to be held as true 
 in this merely historical sense ; but as truly and for ever virtual and 
 actual in the souls of believers. This leads to a consideration of the 
 work left to be done by the Church. 
 
 The Church then has to afford at once historical and spiritual 
 evidence of the truth. The former evidence is a basis, the latter a 
 superstructure ; and the two are inseparable. By means of teaching, 
 which in the first place must be historical j by signs and forms and 
 
426 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 sacraments, one object of faith must be constantly held in view, in 
 order that the object of faith and the believing subject may be always 
 distinct from each other and always united. 
 
 It might be supposed that assertions like those made in 
 the abstract here given would set at rest questions respect- 
 ing the writer's belief of one doctrine; but this has not 
 been the case. In fact, there have been given as we have 
 already said briefly not less than three interpretations of 
 his teaching respecting that Christian tenet which is rightly 
 called central (pp. 11-12). The first was that held by 
 Strauss, who placed "the human race" itself as the subject 
 of all that was said of mediation. Every man, he said, is 
 erroneous and defective in morals as in intellect ; but the 
 errors of the individual are corrected in the development of 
 the race. It is generally allowed that this rendering of 
 Hegel's meaning was a mistake. The second interpretation 
 is one that has been largely accepted by the men who still 
 represent the school of speculative philosophy. As reduced 
 to plain words, their teaching asserts only, that the leading 
 ideas of the Christian faith are essentially true; while it 
 leaves open the question how far those ideas have corres- 
 ponded with historical facts. Of the third interpretation 
 little needs be said now; for it is usually treated as 
 something obsolete. It asserts on the ground of some 
 affirmations made by Hegel himself that he admitted as 
 historically true the central tenet of the Christian faith 
 (pp. 192-3).* The question that might be re-opened here 
 has been often enough debated. There was surely some 
 deplorable obscurity in the expressions that could leave 
 room for so much controversy. The second or middle inter- 
 pretation of Hegel's religious teaching is that which must 
 here and there be named again, since this has served as a 
 basis for several lately-published books on the " Philosophy 
 
 * Among the passages that might be cited in support of this con- 
 clusion the following may be named: the prefaces to the second and 
 third editions of the " Encyclopaedia ;" and the whole of the teaching 
 given in the " Philosophy of Eeligion," vol. ii, pp. 207-70. 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. SCHILLING. HEGEL. 427 
 
 of Religion;" especially for a rattier elaborate work by 
 Pfleiderer.* This writer treats as always immanent in the 
 Christian Church the ideas defined in the abstract already 
 given ; but he leaves unanswered the question, ' ' how far do 
 those ideas correspond with historical facts ?" At the same 
 time he contends, that his exposition of Hegel's doctrine is 
 correct. Then how could his teacher assert, as he did so 
 often, that in substance his faith was identical with that 
 maintained by Lutherans ? How could he speak so posi- 
 tively of Christianity as the truth revealed " for all men ? " 
 And again, why should he speak of the " repose" found 
 in religion, if none save logicians can enjoy that boon? 
 The passage where he so speaks is remarkable, and may be 
 quoted. Aristotle, in a well-known paragraph (Metaph. xii. 
 7), where he speaks of God, forgets for a moment his laws 
 of induction, and soars into poetry ; so Hegel in these few 
 words, where he speaks generally of religion, and without 
 regard to any hard logical notions. Like that poetic strain 
 in the ancient writer, this in the modern is unexpected ; and 
 in the midst of so much " logic," comes upon us like some 
 chords of a hymn-tune suddenly interrupting the jarring 
 noise of a tread-mill : 
 
 " Religion discloses to us a region where the world's queries are 
 answered, the problems of thought are solved, and the sorrows of 
 experience are forgotten. We are here led into the realm of eternal 
 truth and infinite repose ; where our soul, expanding itself beyond all 
 that is finite, finds liberation and peace. . . . Rightly the peoples of 
 the world have esteemed faith as higher than knowledge. Among the 
 working-days of their lives, religion lias been their Sunday. Here 
 disappears [as if absorbed in an ocean] that sandbank of finite 
 existence to which belong our griefs and cares. Here flows the true 
 river Lethe, where our soul drinks the water of a divine oblivion. 
 Her sorrows, the hardness of her earthly destiny, the dark shadows 
 of her temporal life all, as recollections of a dreamful night, pass 
 away." 
 
 * " Religionsphilosophie," 1878. The date of publication should be 
 noticed ; for this larger work differs widely from the writer's earlier 
 book " die Religion" u.s.w., published in 1868. 
 
428 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Assuredly,, for every student of the controversies that 
 arose out of the " logic " (in 1831-41) there is a consolation 
 in the thought, that some day those wranglings will be 
 forgotten. They must, however, be noticed so far as to 
 make clear, in an historical way, their general result as 
 regards Christian faith, and this result must be borne in 
 niind, if the reader would understand what follows ; 
 especially the ruling ideas of certain writers of the last 
 twenty years. In Germany, during this time, politics, 
 materialism, the Darwinian philosophy of evolution ; these 
 and various schemes of social democracy, have been the 
 chief forces moving public opinion. In the present day, 
 there live multitudes of men, intelligent in their own secular 
 way, who care as little for speculative philosophy as for 
 religion. They believe everything that philosophy has said 
 against religion, and vice versa everything the latter has said 
 against the former ; so that the result is a negation of the 
 most sweeping kind imaginable. 
 
 Still there are left here and there thoughtful men, who 
 wish to find some harmony of faith and reason ; and 
 strange as it may appear among those who reject at once 
 both Christianity and the teaching of Strauss (in 1873) 
 there are found men who dread the thought of a future left 
 utterly destitute of religion. Accordingly, during late years 
 there has taken place though amid an overwhelming 
 spread of materialism some revival of philosophical studies; 
 and attention has been chiefly directed to one hypothesis 
 that which we have called the second or middle interpretation 
 of Hegel. If this be clearly understood, it will make clear 
 almost everything that has followed since the breaking-up 
 or self-destruction of the ' ' Hegelian School." The analysis 
 of its several tendencies as already given will no doubt 
 seem tedious, but the task, however thankless to the writer, 
 has been inevitable; for out of one of those tendencies 
 that which we have styled the middle interpretation 
 has arisen the construction of ideas of which Baur is the 
 chief representative. It is remarkable that thus out of a 
 
CHAPTER XVI. SCHELLING. HEGEL. 429 
 
 speculative system and one generally regarded as abstruse 
 there has arisen a view of historical Christianity that 
 makes clearer, or more pointed, the question of belief or 
 unbelief. This will be noticed in the course of some follow- 
 ing chapters, of which a general outline may here be briefly 
 given. 
 
 It will first be shown how Schleiermacher made prominent 
 the central tenet of Christianity, and in its defence united 
 the two arguments, ethical and historical. On the other 
 side Strauss ignored the ethical argument, and then, with 
 ingenuity and some novelty of style, attacked the early 
 history of Christianity ; especially by means of his theory 
 of myths. Baur, a man of greater learning, constructed a 
 theory of ef tendencies," and endeavoured to show how the 
 Christian faith, as defined by the Early Church, was a 
 result obtained by a gradual development of ideas, taking 
 place in the course of three centuries. Several of Baur's 
 conclusions were accepted by Strauss in the reconstruction 
 of his own book (1864). The theory so built up by the two 
 writers has for its basis one supposition that as regards the 
 first century, there exists to a very large extent a want of 
 historical evidence, whether direct or indirect, respecting the 
 belief then held by the Church. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 IN 1800, if it had been predicted that faith, or any 
 reverent tendency toward religion, would in the course of 
 some twenty years be so far restored in Berlin that teaching 
 like Schleiermacher's would there be accepted, a fulfilment 
 of the prediction might well seem highly improbable. In 
 1840 when the panic excited by Strauss had subsided 
 a prediction to the effect that men calling themselves 
 Christians would, in the course of a few years, utterly reject 
 that teaching, might also seem unlikely to be fulfilled. 
 These remarks may indicate the position held by Schleier- 
 macher and by those who, in a sense more or less direct, 
 might be called his disciples. His position viewed with 
 regard to his own intention was mediative. A tendency 
 toward union was the power by which his later life was 
 especially controlled; and indeed his whole life might be 
 included, since nothing is said here respecting his special 
 doctrines. In his youth, when his speculations were as 
 bold as Schelling's, his teaching was usually defined as his 
 own form of " pantheism;" and his mind was then not 
 liberated from errors that may be found in the earlier 
 writings of his friend, Friedrich Schlegel. The early 
 writings of great men are sometimes remembered too well, 
 when revival of their memory is made painful. Thus from 
 time to time we are reminded of the somewhat trivial fact, 
 that men of great energy must like other men, but with 
 more than ordinary peril pass through the stages of 
 boyhood and youth. " I will never grow old in my soul," 
 said Schleiermacher, in one of his earlier essays. The 
 
CHAPTEE XVII. SCHLEIEEMACHEE. 481 
 
 resolution a characteristic of Ms early enthusiasm was 
 well sustained throughout the course of his life, of which some 
 brief account may be given. Our attention will be chiefly 
 directed to the time 1820-34, when his religious teaching 
 was most developed ; especially as regards his Christology. 
 
 FEIEDEICH DANIEL EENST SCHLEIEEMACHEE, born at 
 Breslau (1768), was educated at Barby, in a school belong- 
 ing to the United Brethren, of whose tenets some brief 
 notices have been given (p. 311). The impressions left by 
 early instruction never faded away from his memory. They 
 remained with him, even when he wandered far into specu- 
 lation and scepticism ; and thus we may understand how at 
 one time he was described as " a pious sceptic." It was 
 not any special doctrine that was retained ; but it was a 
 religious sense, such as may exist where hardly any definite 
 belief is found. This was the feeling, the habitual state of 
 consciousness, more enduring than all other feelings, which 
 Schleiermacher, in later years, described as " a sense of 
 absolute dependence " a feeling pervading the soul, and 
 especially awakened at the time when endeavours are made 
 to live and act in accordance with the dictates of holiness. 
 This impulse, if righteously obeyed he tells us must lead 
 men to Christian faith and obedience; but "not without 
 the aid of the Church." In these words he gives us briefly 
 the substance of his most characteristic teaching, which was 
 expanded in his work on "The Christian Faith" (1821 and 
 1830). 
 
 "W hen about twenty years old, he left the society of the 
 United Brethren, and soon afterwards went to Halle, where 
 his theological studies were continued. Here in 1806 
 he was engaged as preacher to the University, and as 
 professor of both theology and philosophy. In 1809 he 
 was appointed professor of theology at Berlin; and here he 
 was also engaged as a preacher at the Trinity Church. He 
 was eminent at once for his eloquence in the pulpit, and 
 for the dialectic acuteness displayed in his lectures. His 
 theological views, but vaguely expressed in his earlier 
 
432 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 writings and called " pantheistic " in their general tendency, 
 were still (in 1821) such as left undetermined his belief of 
 certain tenets, and served to suggest doubts on some serious 
 questions. He remained, however, faithful to his main 
 principle that without Christian faith no firm basis can be 
 found for ethics ; and he went on to say, that true ethical 
 and religious feeling, as he understood it, never had existed 
 apart from the life of the Church. This was especially the 
 principle that placed him in opposition to the " religious 
 philosophy " most especially prevalent in his own age, and 
 still extant in the present day. Those few writers who now 
 represent that philosophy have especially this one principle 
 in view when they renounce the teaching of Schleiermacher.* 
 It is their aim to show that it is impossible to develop his 
 main principle, and still to retain the doctrine they would 
 maintain as true respecting the subordinate position of the 
 Church. Accordingly they regard as already refuted or 
 abandoned every proposition that may be viewed as one 
 accordant with that first principle. Obviously discussion of 
 such a point might open a large ecclesiastical question. 
 Enough is said to show where and how the teaching of 
 Schleiernmcher is related to the views of several " specu- 
 lative " writers living in our own day. On their side it is 
 contended, that they must renounce his first principle; 
 while on the other side their chief opponent contends that 
 in so doing they must also renounce the profession of 
 Christianity.f 
 
 Their views will be more distinctly noticed in some later 
 pages. We return to the time 1820-34. What was the 
 true character of the opposition then existing between 
 Christology, as expounded by Schleiermacher, and the 
 religious philosophy of the Hegelian School? The former 
 was based on the facts of Church history ; the latter on a 
 supposed development of ideas, defined as at all times 
 immanent in the mind of man. On the former side ethics 
 
 * Pfleiderer ; " Religionspliilosopliie " (1878), pp. 662-6. 
 
 t Hartmanii j " Die Krisis des Chris tentliums " (1880), pp. 114-15. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIERMACHER. 433 
 
 were made a clue leading to revealed truth ; on the latter 
 the intellect was made predominant in ethics as in religion. 
 The opposition was one of an extreme character ; and it was 
 remarkable that although no personal cause of difference 
 was known the relations existing between the two pro- 
 fessors, Schleiermacher and Hegel, were singularly cold. 
 One seemed to exercise toward the other something like a 
 repelling power. The latter, in several of his lectures, 
 spoke with severity respecting the error of making feeling 
 a basis of faith. On this point there has been ascribed to 
 the professor of philosophy a saying so shallow, that one is 
 disposed to judge at once that it cannot be authentic. " If 
 a feeling of dependence might be called religious," it was 
 contended that " religious sentiment might in some cases be 
 ascribed to animals." There is no logic in the remark ; for 
 " the sense of absolute dependence" is predicated of a moral 
 agent who is conscious of his own sinfulness. 
 
 The saying served, however, to amuse the sciolists so 
 numerous in Berlin in the time 1827-31, when logic was 
 especially triumphant, and Schleiermacher's teaching was, 
 comparatively speaking, cast into the shade. It has been 
 said that he was unduly sensitive of this temporary neglect. 
 The notion has been partly founded on a trivial anecdote. 
 One day in 1831, he received a visit from a young man, 
 who had come to Berlin in order to complete his studies. 
 In the course of their conversation, the sudden decease of 
 Hegel was made known to the visitor, whose surprise was 
 great. "It was to hear him," said he, "that I came to 
 Berlin." The visitor was David Strauss ; and the professor 
 of theology (it is said) was visibly hurt by the remark. 
 This tells nothing to account for their subsequent opposition 
 of views. The fact was, that the visitor then hardly 
 twenty-four years old had already arrived at his conclusion 
 respecting the question which his own writings afterwards 
 made so prominent : Is our Christian belief a result 
 of historical facts; or of ideas developed by means of 
 " mythical stories ?" In later years this question has been 
 
434 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 variously modified ; and instead of " myths" we read now 
 of " tendencies/' of ' ' favourable conjunctions of circum- 
 stances," and especially of " a union of Judaism with. 
 Hellenic philosophy." These, it is said, are the causes to 
 which the origin and development of the Church may be 
 ascribed. 
 
 Teaching directly opposite to this is found in Schleier- 
 macher's " Lectures on Christology ;" and it was especially 
 against his conclusions, as given in these lectures, that the 
 attacks of Strauss were in the first instance directed. 
 
 These observations may serve to make clear the general 
 aim of some later writers, who are in fact followers of 
 Strauss, though they modify certain details of his theory. 
 They show more biblical learning than he possessed, and 
 avoid some of his conclusions ; but their aim is still one 
 essentially like his own. They would put ideas in the place 
 of facts ; while they all agree in their opposition to the 
 teaching of Schleiermacher, especially the doctrine of his 
 Christology. Since his time no elements that are essen- 
 tially new have been added to the argument on one side or 
 on the other. 
 
 It is impossible here to give an analysis of Schleier- 
 macher's most extensive work, "The Christian Faith ;"'* 
 or to give any fair account of his writings on questions 
 mostly ecclesiastical. His endeavours to develop among 
 students belonging to his own confession a higher estimate 
 of Christian ethics, and of their union with historical belief, 
 were recognized as valuable, not only by his disciples, but 
 also by many who did not agree generally with the tenets of 
 his theology. After a life of hard labour, of which he seemed 
 never to be weary, he died aged sixty-five, in February, 
 1834. 
 
 His writings and his life's work cannot be viewed fairly, 
 
 unless we have some considerable knowledge of his time. 
 
 If there was one trait more prominent than all others in 
 
 that ti'ne, it was intellectual presumption. The remark 
 
 * " Der Christliclie Glaube," 2te Ausg. 1830. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIERMACHER. 435 
 
 must be applied especially to tlie school of philosophy that 
 in Berlin made itself dominant during the later years of his 
 life. The pride of reason has rarely asserted itself so boldly 
 as it did among the younger men of the period ; and seldom 
 has it been associated with a greater want of self-knowledge. 
 For the most part they were men not well qualified for the 
 study of the philosophy of which they talked so boldly. 
 Consequently they were held together for a time by a 
 common respect for their master; and after his decease 
 they were soon divided into factions. The peace formerly 
 talked of as " restored between faith and knowledge " was 
 found to be an illusion ; and the philosophy, lately called 
 conservative, was made a basis for teaching revolutionary 
 doctrines. " Pride goes before a fall." Some years before 
 the time here noticed, Friedrich Schlegel indirectly pre- 
 dicted that intellectual pride might soon be followed by " a 
 general contempt of philosophy;" and this prediction was 
 fulfilled soon after the dissolution of the Hegelian School. 
 It was divided into three sections : the Right, the Centre, 
 and the Left. The men on the Right maintained that the 
 teaching of the school was consistent with existing religious 
 and political institutions, or, in other words, was both 
 orthodox and conservative. It was on the Left represented 
 by Strauss in theology that the innovations were made 
 which led most speedily to the dissolution. The doctrinea 
 asserted by other men of the extreme Left were denounced 
 as atheistic and revolutionary. The general result was that 
 interest in all inquiries formerly included under the name of 
 speculative philosophy rapidly declined, and a materialism 
 of the grossest type was soon introduced, to take the place 
 of the logic that had made itself " absolute/' The men of 
 Berlin now look back on that ideal time, and call it " a 
 period of intellectual intoxication/' 
 
 Among those who condemned the intellectual presump- 
 tion of that time, the most noticeable man was ARTHUR 
 SCHOPENHAUER (1788-1860), whose chief book first pub- 
 lished, or rather printed, in 1819 was intended to make 
 
 28 * 
 
436 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 ethics predominant over all intellectual systems. The 
 metaphysical men of his time were neglecting he said 
 the true force by which the world is governed ; for ' c it is 
 will, not reason, that governs the world." This doctrine is 
 urged to its extreme conclusion. The understanding says 
 this writer is always subservient to the will. Therefore no 
 change of human nature can ever be effected by the spread 
 of doctrines. A man at rest will argue with you, by way of 
 pastime (just as he would play at draughts), but let his will 
 be roused; then appeal to his logical notions, and you will 
 find how much he really cares for them. Tell the theoretical 
 democrat or leveller, when he acts as a tyrant, that his 
 conduct is inconsequent. He will laugh at you. He always 
 was, at heart, a tyrant ; he now can show it, and does so. 
 Doctrines are forms; the will supplies their contents. 
 Just as a vehicle may convey substances having wholesome, 
 or injurious, or indifferent properties, so any system 
 of thinking may be made to bear any purport, good or 
 bad. Our will unconsciously makes and rules the world. 
 
 This first principle does not represent the whole of 
 Schopenhauer's teaching. He has next to explain the 
 origin of such principles as sympathy, benevolence, and 
 self-sacrifice; and this' he attempts to do by telling us 
 that the will, which he has so far described as asserting 
 itself, is free, and can therefore deny itself. It is led to 
 self-denial by arriving first at the highest state of intel- 
 ligence. "The principle of individuation " on which 
 egotism is based, is seen to be a delusion and a source 
 of endless miseries. Self-denial now assumes the character 
 of sympathy, which, says Schopenhauer, is the basis of 
 all true ethics. We cannot trace a logical sequence 
 in this passage from egotism to sympathy. Waiving that 
 difficulty, however, we may notice how the author proceeds 
 to show that sympathy must lead to an entire resignation 
 of will the one complete virtue, which is found, he says, 
 only among Buddhists and ascetic Christians of the primi- 
 tive school. That this resignation is possible is proved by 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIEEMACHEE. 437 
 
 many facts in the history of the Church. The book con- 
 taining this doctrine had a singular fate. At the time of 
 its first appearance it was almost totally neglected; and 
 the author remained silent for about sixteen years. In 1836 
 he published a small work, " The Will in Nature/' suggesting 
 views singularly like those now called " Darwinian." In 
 later years,, his ethical teaching gained many disciples. 
 Here it is named as one among many expressions of rest- 
 less doubts and inquiries, especially characteristic of the 
 time 1820-36. It has been noticed how, during the spread 
 of the older rationalism, there was excited but little intel- 
 lectual disturbance among the Catholics of South Germany 
 (p. 248), and a similar remark might for the most part apply 
 to this later time. Yet there were now not altogether 
 absent signs of doubt and unrest. Among the few inno- 
 vating men whose speculations were condemned by the 
 Church, the most noticeable man was the mystic author 
 FEANZ VON BAADEE. He contended especially that moral 
 and physical evil are indissolubly united, and that evil in 
 the material world and in human society is the result of an 
 insurrection against divine authority. If we saw a criminal 
 beheaded, says Baader, it would be absurd to ascribe his 
 death to the sharpness of the axe ; and it is as absurd to 
 ascribe to physical causes the evil and the misery that 
 prevail in the world. In this way he was opposed to the 
 errors of pantheism; but in some other respects his own 
 views were presumptuous. With regard to the Church* 
 two principles seldom found in connection were asserted by 
 this writer ; and the latter especially to an extent utterly 
 immoderate and unguarded : " The knowledge of the laws 
 of his own spiritual life is neither innate in man nor can it 
 be obtained by his reasonings. He must, first of all, receive 
 it by the testimony of others, and as the result of their 
 experience. ... We see, therefore, the necessity for the 
 foundation and the maintenance of the Church. The 
 absence of such an institution in the world would be 
 a contradiction of divine goodness As long as 
 
438 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 religion and its doctrines do not receive from speculative 
 philosophy a respect founded upon free inquiry and sincere 
 conviction, so long the religion that is not respected will 
 not be loved. If you would have the practice of religion 
 thrive, you must take care that its theory is made intelli- 
 gible." Thus he defends his own " gnosis." 
 
 Much more might be told of the endless warfare of 
 opinions that disturbed the minds of men during the later 
 years of Schleiermacher's life ; but enough has been said to 
 indicate the source of his earnestness when he endeavoured 
 to find in Christian ethics a place of repose and a support 
 of religious faith. He was a man of high intellectual 
 culture ; but he knew that religion could not have its true 
 basis in the intellect. Philosophical notions respecting the 
 genesis of religion, and speculative views travelling far 
 beyond the bounds of ordinary minds, could do nothing, 
 said, to restore a true and practical faith. He therefore 
 wished earnestly to find in ethical and religious facts a sure 
 basis of faith ; and thus was led on to the ethical-religious 
 doctrine developed in his Christology. Whatever were his 
 errors and " inconsistencies " much may be said of the 
 latter he was eminently a man of wide sympathy j one 
 who could feel the force of the sentiment expressed in such 
 lines as these : 
 
 " Through a night of doubt and gloom, 
 Millions travel toward the tomb ; 
 No kind hand their footsteps guides 
 To the home where love abides ; 
 Tones of truth within them stirred 
 Meet with no kind answering word ; 
 But all along their stormy way 
 Howl the winds, and lightnings play, 
 And thunders roll, and never cease 
 Instead of angels chanting ' peace.' " 
 
 It is, says Schleierrnacher, our sympathy with the 
 spiritual wants of mankind that should make us first of all 
 disposed to accept a divine revelation of which the central 
 truth is at once spiritual and historical, and though. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIERMACHEK. 439 
 
 profound yet clear. Truth to be received by all men must 
 be made manifest in a Person.* In no other way can it 
 be made actual, clear, and definite. Truth must be made 
 manifest to all men, and must appear as at once human and 
 divine. In no other way can it be authoritative ; or afford a 
 universal basis of faith. Whatever limitations are connected 
 with our familiar applications of the word "person" must 
 here be set aside, when we speak of One who is the Saviour 
 of all who believe in him, and who is always present with 
 his followers ; that is to say, in his Church . The life of the 
 Church is more than a testimony in support of historical 
 truth \ it is a continuance of his own self-manifestation.f 
 Elsewhere we may make a division between ideas and facts ; 
 and may speak of an ideal that has never been realized, or 
 never can be. In our Christian belief we find rest. That 
 which our soul requires and that which the mind can believe 
 are no longer set apart when we find rest in the truth 
 affirmed by the conscience of believers ; that is to say, in 
 the truth of which the Church has been and remains a living 
 witness and manifestation. In the Church of Christ there 
 has been developed a sure consciousness of union with God ; 
 there has been made manifest a life that, as regards its 
 origin, continuation, and aim, cannot be merely human, but 
 must have its source in one in whom the human and the 
 divine are united. Faith, based in this union, has ever been 
 and still remains the all-pervading soul of the Christian 
 Church, and this faith exists ever in union with a sense of 
 dependence on Christ. 
 
 It is obvious that these propositions may suggest the 
 question " how is the Church to be defined ?" In reply it 
 may be noticed in a way strictly historical that Schleier- 
 macher's definition of the Christian Church is very compre- 
 hensive one that is disowned or ignored by his opponents ; 
 and to such an extent as seems equal to a petitio principii 
 involved in certain parts of their reasonings. As evidences 
 
 * Ckristliche Glaube; vol.i, 10, and. passim. 
 f Christliche Glaube ; vol. i, 1-11. 
 
440 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 against the divine origin of Christianity,, they can cite 
 instances of controversy in the Early Church ; but of any 
 favourable or commanding evidence, such as Schleierrnacher 
 accepts, they know nothing. This is the common negation 
 in which several of his opponents otherwise differing 
 among themselves agree in their opposition to his views. 
 They ignore the existence of the Church, so far as it is said 
 to be a valid testimony of Christ's divinity. They reject 
 fhe first premiss on which his whole subsequent argument is 
 founded. Enough has been said on this point, to show that 
 our first limitation (p. 1), excluding remarks that might 
 lead into ecclesiastical controversy, is one that is strictly 
 demanded. Without further interruption, the remainder of 
 Schleiermacher's teaching so far as regards his Christology 
 may now be given in the form of an abstract. It will 
 here be seen that he finds in the ideal Christ of the Church 
 a presence that, as he contends, must lead to belief in 
 Christ's divinity. 
 
 Schleiermacher wishes to make distinct from all meta- 
 physical reasonings the evidence that he defines as existing 
 within the conscious life of .the Church that is to say, 
 within the communion created and still sustained by a faith 
 that is at once historical and spiritual. This evidence is, in 
 the highest sense of the word, ethical ; it is that afforded by 
 the spiritual and practical life of which Christ is the source. 
 .Christian ethics are widely different from secular morals, 
 such as are but a sine qua non of social existence. These 
 morals however useful in their right place belong 
 naturally to man as to a creature endowed with reason. 
 In their practical results, secular morals may sometimes 
 correspond with the ethics of a higher life ; but the latter 
 are distinguished by their first motive and their final aim. 
 Yet the natural and the supernatural are not to be set apart 
 as if utterly and hopelessly separated ; for man in his 
 natural state has a capacity of rising toward a higher life. 
 His reason serves partly as his guide, since it refuses to 
 acknowledge as normal its real and practical subjection to 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIERMACHER. 441 
 
 his evil passions. His natural mind is rightly defined as a 
 will opposed to the mind that is spiritual, and yet it is 
 capable of receiving a new bias ; and reason, though now 
 degraded, may, through the influence of divine grace, serve 
 to lead man toward union with God. 
 
 These are the facts that make man capable of a religious 
 life. But capacity must be attended with desire, before we 
 can see and know the force of the evidence leading to our 
 acceptance of the truth that in Christ the love of God is 
 revealed. The evidence is at once spiritual and historical. 
 A picture set before us may be viewed in two ways. One 
 spectator sees clearly all the traits of the painting ; but 
 does not see the artist's idea. Another sees at once the 
 traits and that which they express. So true faith must be 
 at once spiritual and historical. The portraiture of Christ 
 may be viewed, so that an assurance of historical reality is 
 the sole result. In the intuition of which the result is a 
 true faith the real and the ideal, the historical and the 
 spiritual, are united. There is left no longer remaining any 
 sense of division, when Christ is known as a Saviour. There 
 is left no distrust ; but there remains with the believer his 
 sense of dependence. This is henceforth developed in all 
 his further experience, and is not to be described as a first 
 principle merely elementary, or as insufficient to define the 
 whole character of a religious life. As viewed by Schleier- 
 macher, the sense of dependence is one uniting itself with 
 all other and more specialized religious feelings. It is their 
 common bond. There are worldly morals that accord with 
 the assertion of individual independence ; but a feeling 
 of dependence, and a consciousness of the fact, that our 
 impulses, so far as good or holy, have not their source in 
 ourselves these are the distinct traits of a Christian life. 
 
 Christian ethics cannot exist apart from that union with 
 Christ in which they first of all had their source ; and on 
 which they continually must depend for their life and vigour. 
 Independence and disunion belong to another sphere the 
 world. There indeed men may apparently all seek the same 
 
442 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 things, and yet may know nothing of any true union ; for 
 each wishes to possess only that which he can call exclu- 
 sively his own. One may find satisfaction in yielding 
 to the impulses of his stronger passions ; another may 
 choose rather the solace attending the exercise of his 
 gentler and more social affections. In the latter case, 
 earthly morals may be refined; but not the less are they 
 still earthly. Out of such morality it is impossible to 
 develop Christian ethics in any natural way, like that in 
 which a flower is produced out of a root. The former ethics 
 belong to our old life ; the latter to a new life of which the 
 source, we feel assured, is not in ourselves. That old life of 
 worldly morals has not been changed so that we may say 
 it has been developed and refined, or ameliorated. It has 
 passed away. That which was once identified with ourselves 
 is now a part of a world that we call foreign ; that which 
 once was foreign is now united with our inmost life. So 
 great is the change that has taken place in those who now 
 belong to the Kingdom of Heaven. They are so many new 
 inhabitants of a new world. 
 
 The introduction of Christianity whether regarded as 
 affecting individuals or nations is the beginning of a new 
 life. The history of a nation is thus divided into two 
 periods ; one preceding, the other following that beginning. 
 Our religion is not a continuation of any Jewish, or of 
 any heathen antecedents ; but is essentially a new life. As 
 regards all that belongs to ethical or religious life, the 
 former things pass away, wherever the Gospel is effectually 
 proclaimed. As history tells us, along with the evil inherent 
 in former institutions, there may pass away and be forgotten 
 certain pleasing traits [such as aesthetic refinements of 
 culture] that when viewed in themselves might once be 
 called good. They must now be renounced ; simply because 
 their associations are evil ; they belong to the old life that 
 has been condemned, and must perish with it. So every 
 great transition that takes place in history is at once a 
 death and a life; the former serves to unfold the germ 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIERMACHEE. 443 
 
 of tlie latter. And as in the world at large, so in every 
 individual case those who belong to Christ know that they 
 have passed out of death into life. If then in every believer 
 a new creation has taken place, the Church or communion of 
 all believers is a new creation. In Christ the creator of 
 the Church must be found therefore a sufficient source of 
 all the life and power therein made manifest. The stream 
 can never be more abundant than the source from which 
 it flows. He who has created and sustained the Church 
 must be one able to create and to sustain that faith which, 
 in all ages, has been the life and the strength of all those 
 who have believed in. him. He must then be a Person at 
 once human and divine human, that he may come near to 
 ourselves, and that between himself and ourselves sympathy 
 and communion may be possible divine, that he may be 
 the object of faith; that he may be known as able to 
 save all who come unto him. Hence the Early Church, 
 enlightened by his Spirit therein abiding, firmly rejected on 
 one side the Docetist, on the other the Ebionite heresy. It 
 was made known and felt, through the influence of Christian 
 communion, that were all other true predicates ascribed to 
 Christ, while his real humanity was denied, there would 
 remain no sure historical bond uniting him with the 
 members of the Church. Such would be the result of the 
 Docetist heresy. On the other hand, were he viewed as a 
 man in the highest degree eminent for his righteousness and 
 his wisdom, yet as one in whom God does not reveal himself 
 essentially as love; then the error so defined would be 
 the Ebionite heresy. For us the result would be, that no 
 ultimate ground of faith could remain respecting a union 
 that is perfect, personal, and final ; and is to be viewed as 
 true in a sense both spiritual and historical. God reveals 
 himself in Christ as love, and in this love, pervading the 
 souls of those who are truly united with him, we recognize 
 his presence his indwelling in the Church.* It is not a 
 * Christliche'Grlaube -, vol. ii, 165 u.s.w. 
 
444 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 mere figure of speech, when it is said that Christ lives in his 
 disciples. The truth is central, and cannot be illustrated 
 fully by the use of any similitudes borrowed from the 
 external world; it cannot be made clear to the under- 
 standing. But the understanding is not the measure of 
 faith; that which metaphysical analysis would define as 
 impossible is felt and known as the truth which is the life 
 of the Church. 
 
 These are the chief propositions of Schleiermacher's faith, 
 and the most characteristic parts of his teaching. His doc- 
 trine of mediation is not equivalent in force to the teaching 
 of Lutheran orthodoxy; for several points belonging to the 
 old doctrine are omitted, and others are left undetermined. 
 The idea that he makes especially prominent is this the 
 Church has been called into existence and sustained by One 
 in whose holiness and love is seen a perfect manifestation of 
 the divine nature ; and the whole experience of the Church 
 bears testimony to the truth, that in Christ our nature is 
 united with the divine. This faith is at once historical and 
 spiritual ; and if the historical evidence, when taken alone, is 
 not satisfactory to the natural intellect, it is because the 
 spiritual evidence is wanting. But this may be found by all 
 who will submit themselves to the teaching of Christ. 
 
 This cardinal truth of Christ's immanent abiding with his 
 followers is everywhere supposed in the teaching of Schleier- 
 macher, and is made to accord with and to support all the 
 other articles of his faith. Of these several are left vague or 
 are but faintly defined. He does not attempt to give any 
 metaphysical definitions of divine attributes ; but concludes 
 that faith and reverential feeling lead to a height and depth 
 that reason cannot explore. We cannot <f by searching find 
 out God, or know the Almighty to perfection." As love 
 he reveals himself in Christ. " Descendit Deus ut assur- 
 gamus."" To this one central faith every part of the writer's 
 theology is made to converge. This is the attractive force 
 and the source of life in his system of belief. By faith in 
 
CHAPTER XVII. SCHLEIEEMACHER. 445 
 
 Christ believers are made to participate in the purity and 
 happiness of a life that is divine ; and God now beholds 
 them as reconciled in Christ.* 
 
 Schleiermacher's doctrine recommended by his personal 
 influence and the eloquence of his preaching was accepted 
 by many teachers belonging to the two confessions, which 
 had been united in 1817. His general intention was con- 
 ciliatory. The ideal Church that he described seemed large 
 enough to contain those who, on one side, were opposed to 
 old orthodox teaching, and on the other had a dread of 
 extreme rationalism. For some ten years after his decease 
 the events of the time were on the whole favourable to the 
 spread of his theology, which, as freely interpreted, by many, 
 was called " mediative." It can hardly be said that he 
 founded a school. His more faithful followers were com- 
 paratively few, while those who were more or less indebted 
 to him for impulse and guidance were numerous. Their 
 union was never strictly defined. So far, however, they 
 held for some time their intermediate position between 
 Lutheran orthodoxy, on one side, and extreme rationalism 
 on the other, that the spread of the latter was to a con- 
 siderable extent retarded. Meanwhile there was spread a 
 rationalism that might in one respect be called new. It was 
 founded or supposed to be founded on that speculative 
 logic of which some account has been given ; and was first 
 made popular in a book published by Strauss in 1835. 
 
 * Christliche Glaube ; vol. ii, pp. 99 n.s.w. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 STKATJSS. BAUR. 
 
 IN order to show their relations to earlier opinions, the 
 views of Strauss and Baur have already been briefly noticed 
 (pp. 232-6). That which is chiefly new in them is the fact, 
 that they make some attempts toward construction. They 
 endeavour to show how the Church first arose, and how her 
 faith was widely spread, though it had no sufficient historical 
 basis. This was a process they tell us that did not 
 take place in any way that can support the doctrine called 
 orthodox respecting the Founder of the Church. Accord- 
 ingly they go on to oppose especially the tenet made pro- 
 minent by Schleiermacher in his later lectures. His teaching 
 is controverted on three distinct grounds. The first calls 
 itself historical, and will be chiefly noticed in this chapter. 
 The second is metaphysical, and the third is ecclesiastical. 
 Of these two latter grounds little will be said; but they 
 may be named. They are often assumed as first principles 
 in arguments that for the most part are like those of Strauss 
 and Baur. 
 
 According to the teaching of Schleiermacher, our belief 
 in the divine origin of the Christian Religion is at once 
 spiritual and historical, and this faith has been preserved by 
 the Church. We must regard as essentially one the life of 
 Christ as continued in his Church, and his life as historically 
 portrayed in the Gospels. The power, wisdom, and love 
 made manifest in the whole history must be ascribed to a 
 Person, who is human and divine. In opposition to this 
 teaching, Baur and his followers sometimes collectively 
 styled the " Tubingen School " contend that the ethical 
 and spiritual life of the Early Church, and the victorious 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STEAUSS. BAUE. 447 
 
 spread of her doctrine, are certainly remarkable facts, but 
 such as may be understood as naturally possible, if we have 
 only a sufficient historical knowledge of the period 1 150. 
 Those facts were results that may reasonably be ascribed to 
 a fusion and expansion of ideas, taking place in the midst 
 of circumstances favourable to the development of a new 
 religion.* Here the ground assumed is one that pretends 
 to be historical; but there is co-existent among Baur's fixed 
 ideas another ground of reasoning, and this is metaphysical. 
 On this ground he and many other writers constantly assume 
 as first of all granted certain principles that afterwards are 
 asserted, as if their demonstration had been given. For 
 example, we are taught in a most elaborate way, that the 
 Church has been developed by a routine of obedience to 
 certain "tendencies." These when fully developed make 
 themselves ruling ideas, or established principles of action. 
 The principle controls and guides us says Baur while we 
 are ascribing to a Person the virtue of that principle. All 
 this is repeated again and again ; but nowhere is the 
 demonstration given. The principle almost everywhere 
 assumed by Baur as a basis of his reasonings is in fact 
 a metaphysical dogma. The personal influence, which is 
 ignored by him, as by many of his followers, is always 
 supposed on his side to be impossible. This assumed 
 impossibility is made to serve as one chief basis for the 
 reasonings of the latest rationalism. 
 
 There exists in this latest rationalism another supposed 
 ground of reasoning that which we have called ecclesias- 
 tical and it is one that must be distinctly noticed ; for 
 in numerous places it serves as a substitute for both facts 
 and arguments, while the negation to which it leads is one 
 that must be described as destructive. The extent of the 
 negation implied is masked by some appearance of fairness 
 in logic. As Semler said in the days of old rationalism, so 
 
 * F. C. Baur. " Kirch engeschi elite der drei ersten Jahrhunderte ;" 
 dritte Ausg. (1863), pp. 21-2. 
 
448 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 now it is repeated by Baur and his followers : the Early 
 Church was vexed by controversies, and to her authority 
 men of various views have often appealed for some confir- 
 mation or support, on this side or on that. Consequently 
 since the teaching of the first two centuries is variously 
 accepted we must not appeal to the life and character of 
 the Early Church, when the object is to find evidence of a 
 divine origin in the character of the faith then prevalent. 
 For this faith, says Baur, was not primary, but was gradually 
 unfolded as the general result of certain controversies and 
 subsequent conciliatory processes. The life of the Church 
 was then sustained we are told not by the presence and 
 influence of its Creator, but by a restless conflict of Jewish 
 and heathen ideas. The exclusion of all evidence depending 
 on the fidelity of the Church is thus made to extend to the 
 earliest times, and of course it must hold good, we are told, 
 with regard to the latest. Accordingly everything like an 
 appeal to evidence supplied by the Church is to be counted 
 in all arguments respecting the origin of our faith as 
 nothing. This extreme position is maintained in opposition 
 to the first principle assumed by Schleiermacher in his 
 lectures on Christology. The principle says one of his 
 severest critics must be described as one that cannot be 
 consistently held by any enlightened and liberal theologian; 
 for it would, if carried out, lead to " a deification of the 
 Church."* This is but one of numerous remarks made to 
 the same effect. It is laid down as a law, that in all reasonings 
 respecting the origin of our faith every reference to the life 
 and experience of the Church must be excluded as involving 
 a ' ' petitio principii ;" for example, if to confirm our faith we 
 refer to the belief held by the Church in the later half of 
 the second century, we are told that between that time and 
 the earlier half of the first century there exists a very wide 
 separation. 
 
 Having rejected so much of the evidence that had been 
 
 * Pfleiderer. " Eeligionspliilosopliie " (1878), p. 665. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 449 
 
 held as true and firm,, Strauss and Baur proceed in the next 
 place to construct their two theories respecting the origin 
 of the Christian Faith. 
 
 The initial difficulty suggested by these theories is one 
 that has often been noticed ; for example by Schelling, in 
 one of his later lectures. If we believe, first of all he 
 says in that manifestation of divine power by which the 
 Church was created, then it will inevitably follow, that 
 sentiments of love, wonder, and adoration must have been 
 united with the faith of early believers. In their memory 
 records mainly true and faithfully preserved might borrow 
 some colouring from an exalted imagination. We are 
 talking here of something that may be viewed as possible. 
 But when we see no source of any moving power, and are 
 still asked to admit that so many " myths " or inventions 
 spontaneously sprang as it were into being ; and that these 
 fictions at last produced a faith attended with a vast spiritual 
 power when we are asked to believe such a story, we are 
 inevitably led to some questions like these : What could 
 the motive be that led men to devote themselves their 
 very lives to this supposed process of creating fictions ? 
 Why did they do it ? and How could they do it with such 
 amazing success ? 
 
 These are the more obvious questions suggested by the 
 theories constructed by Strauss and Baur. Their outlines 
 have been given (pp. 232-6) ; but here they must be more 
 distinctly considered ; and especially in their relation to the 
 latest negations of our time. Since 1864 there has appeared 
 hardly anything sceptical or destructive that may not be 
 regarded as a natural consequence of the teaching of 
 Strauss and Baur. They have reduced the whole question 
 to a simple alternative : Is Christianity an imposition ; or 
 is it a divine revelation ? Men who have wished to hold 
 some intermediate position between belief and unbelief have 
 been driven from their middle position by these two writers. 
 There are many who have really rejected that revelation, 
 and have still wished to express their denial in forms as 
 
 29 
 
450 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 gentle and reverent as may be. They have liked therefore 
 to speak of "myths/' intertwining themselves with certain 
 ethical truths, as parasites grow about and hide the stems 
 of trees in tropical forests; or they have liked rather to 
 ascribe to " tendencies" developed in the Early Church 
 those so-called ' ' inventions " that cannot we are told be 
 connected in any sure way with the historical realities of 
 the Apostolic Age. In support of this latter theory there 
 is found in Baur's reasonings almost everything that can be 
 said ; but the whole of the superstructure created by those 
 reasonings rests as he himself has indirectly confessed 
 on a nonentity. No weaker word can be used to define the 
 basis of his reasonings. When divested of all verbiage, it 
 amounts simply to this That Christianity was either created 
 or invented by St. Paul. Against this assertion the sum 
 and substance of the "tendency-theory" it is not ours to 
 contend. Truth has here on her side an advocate as real, 
 individual, and well-known as if he were one now living in 
 the midst of us. His epistles tell us clearly how Christianity 
 was created. Against Baur we appeal to St. Paul. He 
 surely knew something more than all that was^ever known 
 by Baur. 
 
 The two theories one called " mythical," the other a 
 theory of (e tendencies developed in the Early Church " 
 are clearly distinct ; not only in their own characters, but 
 also in the results to which they severally lead. The former 
 endeavours to shun everything like a charge of "impo- 
 sition." The latter apparently pretends to have the same 
 aim; but the supposition made, in order to avoid making 
 that charge, is one that must be described as impossible. 
 We are asked to believe that, in the time when the earlier 
 Apostles and the whole multitude of their disciples were 
 living, their great persecutor, Saul of Tarsus, was suddenly 
 converted, by means of which we can know nothing ; that 
 almost in the same moment he conceived the idea of a new 
 Christology including moreover a whole body of theology 
 of which the earlier Apostles and their followers knew 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS.- BAUR. 451 
 
 very little or nothing ; that absolutely at the same moment 
 he conceived the idea of regarding himself as called by an 
 immediate revelation to be an Apostle of a new and universal, 
 or " Pauline " Christianity, of which little or nothing was 
 known by any one, save himself; that left thus solitary, he 
 preached that which he alone first knew and understood as 
 the true doctrine of Christ ; lastly, that after various hard 
 conflicts with other doctrines and tendencies, this doctrine 
 made itself predominant, and was accepted as the true belief 
 of the Catholic Church. In order that the one great mystery 
 of our faith may be denied, and yet some account may be 
 given respecting the rise of the Church, it is demanded that 
 we should accept as probable a theory like this.* Believe 
 or disbelieve as we will, there must always remain mysteries 
 we cannot explore. The appearance of light itself, has for 
 our finite reason its attendant shadows ; and when we know 
 all that is required to answer our deepest inquiries, there 
 must remain the mystery of God revealing himself as Man 
 in Christ. But this accepted this believed at once are 
 dispelled a thousand doubts; at once are answered a 
 thousand inquiries that could lead only from one mystery 
 to another, or from one form of doubt to another. A per- 
 sistent will to reject that revelation has existed through all 
 the various forms of rationalism, from the time of Eeimarus 
 down to the time of Strauss and Baur. And in substance 
 there does not exist between the beginning and the end 
 that difference which Strauss at one time supposed as 
 existing. Beginning with his poetical theory of myths, and 
 afterwards finding in it some defects as to plausibility he 
 now placed himself more or less under the guidance of 
 Baur, and thus was led, in a rather circuitous way, back to 
 the original position held by Eeimarus. It will be under- 
 stood, then, that there are here to be noticed two clearly 
 distinct arguments against the historical truth of Chris- 
 tianity. The first is represented in his book published in 
 
 * Baur, "Kirchengeschichte der drei ersten Jakrhunderte ;" dritte 
 Ausg. (1863), pp. 21-174. 
 
452 GERMAN CULTURE AND dtRlSflANtT?. 
 
 1835 ; the second in the reconstructed book published in 
 1864. There may be premised some brief account of his 
 life ; and this, we trust, will be made as impersonal as is 
 possible. The chief point to be noticed is the fact, that 
 Strauss, in his early life, was guided solely by dogmas that 
 he accepted as the ff ultima verba " of a most presumptuous 
 " absolute logic." This, as he understood it, is the source 
 of his own negation, and of all the later negation that 
 has called itself "speculative" or "philosophical." The 
 truth denied is, first of all, rejected on the ground that it is 
 opposed to the conclusions of "absolute logic." 
 
 DAVID FKIEDRICH STRAUSS was born at Ludwigsburg, 
 January 27, 1808. He received his early education at 
 Blaubeuren, where one of his teachers was Ferdinand Baur. 
 In 1825 Strauss entered the University of Tubingen, where 
 in 1826 Baur was appointed a Professor of Theology. At 
 this time the teaching of Schleiermacher was prevalent 
 there; but its sway was in later years disturbed by the study 
 of speculative philosophy, to which Strauss devoted his 
 attention. In 1831 he went to Berlin, where his studies 
 in theology and philosophy led him more and more into 
 opposition to the teaching of Schleiermacher, especially as 
 regards the tenets of his " Christology." Already in 1831, 
 or soon after that time, Strauss had constructed the theory 
 afterwards expounded in his book, "Das Leben Jesu," 
 published in 1835. The publication called forth replies too 
 numerous to be noticed. It was followed in 1841 by the 
 writer's second book, "Die Christliche Glaubenslehre." 
 The attention excited by this work was comparatively incon- 
 siderable. In the same year appeared a book written by 
 Feuerbach, in which it was made clear, that the principles 
 asserted by Strauss must lead to a rejection of all religion. 
 Every form of religious belief was now defined as a self- 
 delusion, in which man worshipped only his own shadow. 
 
 After 1841 Strauss remained for the most part silent for 
 twenty years, as regards all theological questions. Amid 
 the disturbance of 1848, he was elected as a member of the 
 
CHAPTEE XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUE. 453 
 
 Wiirtemberg Landtag; his political views were not demo- 
 cratic. He soon resigned the position and, returning to 
 literature, wrote in the course of some following years a 
 memoir of Reimarus, and other biographical works. Mean- 
 while he studied diligently the later writings of Ferdinand 
 Baurj especially those in which his theory of tendencies 
 was propounded. The result was that the two theories- 
 one of " myths /' the other of " tendencies " were more 
 or less closely connected in the work entitled " Das Leben 
 Jesu/' published in 1864. It was now described by the 
 author as reconstructed, so as to be made more suitable for 
 general reading. About the same time appeared two other 
 books on the same subject ; one written by Renan, the 
 other by Schenkel. In their general tendency these three 
 books are alike; but in their modes of treatment and as 
 regards style they differ widely. 
 
 Among the later writings of Strauss his monograph on 
 Voltaire (1870) may be named as a favourable specimen of 
 his style here more than usually light and popular. In 
 1872 appeared the book in which Strauss gives, in the 
 shape of " a confession/' the results to which he has been 
 led. This book, entitled "The Old and the New Belief/' gives 
 a summary statement of the writer's disbelief. He asserts, of 
 himself and of others whom he represents, that they cannot 
 see any need for themselves of a maintenance of forms of 
 religious worship, and that they have ceased to believe 
 in a personal God, and in a future state, as described in 
 Christian teaching. He names, as the sacrifices he has made, 
 all the consolations that others have derived from trust in 
 a Saviour, from a belief in Divine Providence, and from 
 hopes of happiness in a future state. As substitutes for 
 these consolations, the author proposes a satisfaction 
 attending efforts in moral self-culture, a resignation to 
 the necessity by which the world is governed, and, thirdly, 
 a sense of union with and dependence upon the life of the 
 universe. In reply to the question, " Are we Christians ?" 
 the author replies for himself and friends, "No/' but he 
 
454 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 maintains that the resignation and moral culture above 
 named may be viewed as substitutes for religion. The 
 culture of poetic literature and of music is also described as 
 a substitute for religion. The writer appends some remarks 
 of a conservative character on society and politics. (< We 
 do not for a moment deny/' he says, " that hitherto the 
 majority of men have needed a Church; or that they may 
 long continue in need of it." 
 
 This last book was especially popular, though at the same 
 time its tendency was denounced even by many whose views 
 might be called sceptical or liberal in the extreme. That 
 part of its teaching was especially reprobated in which the 
 question of accepting materialism, as a final basis of faith 
 and morals, was treated as one that could have but little, if 
 any, importance. Against this it was urged, that there was 
 nothing in the writer's earlier views that should lead to 
 such an extreme conclusion; and it was complained, that 
 now he had left remaining no basis for any moral teaching. 
 The controversy that followed was painful ; and meanwhile 
 his health had rapidly failed. In the time of his last illness, 
 he read through Plato's " Phaedo/' where the question of 
 the soul's immortality is viewed in 'the light of reason. He 
 died February 7, 1873. 
 
 Hardly any theory of modern days has been made more 
 popular than the mythical theory employed by Strauss in 
 his first work ; but it is rather his subsequent doctrine of 
 te tendencies " mostly borrowed from Baur "that has been 
 accepted by later writers as the basis of their negations. As 
 regards both these theories, their common source is a 
 philosophy that has now been defined by its later disciples 
 and reduced to a doctrine of negation that has been made 
 popular. Its first principles understood in the sense 
 already defined (p. 426) have been accepted as readily and 
 obediently as if they were the elements of geometry. Ideas 
 are treated as if they were living forces, in themselves 
 intelligent and endowed with a powerful volition here 
 controlling material masses j urging along the planets in 
 
CHAPTER XVin, STRAUSS. BA.UE. 455 
 
 their orbits ; presiding over the evolutions of species; nay 
 more, giving rise to nations, and governments ; and laying 
 the foundations of religious creeds ; also in due time 
 destroying those same creeds and making faith, love, 
 adoration impossible. Such were the philosophical ideas 
 with which the minds of many young students were filled, 
 in the time when Strauss first planned his mythical theory. 
 There is of course some ground for the notion that 
 " myths " have sometimes enlarged or filled the outlines of 
 historical portraiture. The error of Strauss is mainly one 
 of gross exaggeration, respecting the powers he ascribes to 
 " ideas" and f< myths." In order to give some general 
 notion of his theory, the words "idea" and " ideal" must 
 be used rather frequently; but their meanings, as here 
 employed, will be familiar. The former word will serve to 
 denote a thought, as distinct from a fact observed by the 
 senses and recorded in history. We have an idea of 
 freedom ; and to a large extent it corresponds with a reality 
 established in our land. We have an ideal of a ' ' patriot- 
 king ;" and to a large extent it has been made historical in 
 the portraiture of Alfred. There are traits in this por- 
 traiture above all one, the king's marvellous love of labour 
 where the ideal is more than can be believed of the real 
 man. We are thus led to call in question the historical 
 character of the biography ascribed to Asser. It is well 
 known that men, in certain stages of the world's history, 
 have been capable of " hero-worship," and have expressed 
 their homage by the invention of " myths" fictions not 
 intended to deceive, but serving to add to real facts a 
 perfection that belongs only to the ideal. Thus we may 
 suppose, by way of illustration our good and great king, 
 Alfred, has been described as doing such an amount of 
 literary work as seems incredible; and we are led to suspect 
 that some works written by monks have been ascribed to 
 him. In another case that of "King Arthur" critics 
 are led to suspect, that patriotic enthusiasm lias not only 
 
456 GEEMAN CULTUEE AND CHEIST1ANITY. 
 
 enlarged the portraiture, but lias created almost the whole 
 character of the hero. 
 
 These are examples of the process followed in the inven- 
 tion of myths ; but something more is required to account 
 for the faith by which they are accepted and held as valid. 
 They must have a deep or permanent meaning ; the shadows 
 must indicate a substance lying behind them; the super- 
 structure of fiction must have a basis of ideas and senti- 
 ments. Thus t( hero-worship," and especially admiration 
 of patriotism, are the sentiments that have kept alive the 
 ideal portraiture of Alfred, and those fine myths about 
 Arthur. These illustrations serve to indicate a general 
 notion of the myth-theory constructed by Strauss ; but in 
 one respect they are very defective. They can but remotely 
 suggest the extent of a theory that treats as mostly mythical 
 the history contained in the New Testament. Again, our 
 small illustrations utterly fail to suggest anything like the 
 vague ideal substance supposed by Strauss that basis of 
 ideas by which the so-called ' ' myths " were supported and 
 made permanent. 
 
 Strauss grants that " the myths " have some true meaning. 
 What is their supposed basis ? There must be ascribed a 
 substantial, if not an historical, interest to a narrative that 
 for so many ages has been believed; and has been inti- 
 mately united with the inner life of millions. If there 
 existed at first no historical subject like that portrayed in 
 the myths, then it seems clear that believers have attached 
 these myths to an ideal subject one always existing in 
 their minds, though never made known to them by means 
 of their senses. "The true subject/' says Strauss, "is 
 humanity ; that is to say, an idea of the whole human race." 
 Here is his favourite notion one often enough expressed 
 before his day; for example by Herder (pp. 106-7) and by 
 Goethe (p. 130). No individual, says Strauss, can claim 
 the completion that belongs to the whole human race. The 
 defects of individuals pass away and are lost in the develop. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUE. 457 
 
 ment of the race ; and to this process the predicate " divine- 
 human" belongs. Strauss does not say exactly that men 
 are like so many parts in one serial publication ; but ho 
 suggests the notion, and further, that the errors in each 
 part are made good by the simple fact that it belongs to a 
 series. 
 
 The error of ascribing to such notions as these any 
 religious interest was made clear by Feuerbach who, in his 
 book on the " Essence of Christianity" (1841), said clearly 
 what Strauss had suggested that the substance of all that 
 has passed under the name of religion is anthropology ; and 
 that man is incapable of knowing anything higher or better 
 than himself. The plain language of this book was service- 
 able in its way. It was now made evident that in "the 
 idea of the race," of which so much had been said, there 
 was neither a religious nor a moral interest. 
 
 To notice all the replies called forth by the mythical 
 theory of 1835 is impossible. In the course of a few years 
 a new literature appeared, of which the topics mostly 
 belonged to the history of the Early Church.* When the 
 disturbance caused by the theory of myths had in a great 
 measure subsided, there prevailed again in the two con- 
 fessions politically united since 1817 some hope of a time 
 of repose. But intellectual concord is never safe where a 
 deeper concord of faith does not exist. The influence of 
 Schleiermacher's teaching was still widely spread among 
 pastors and students, but could not be called a sure bond of 
 union. Meanwhile sceptical biblical criticism, or rationalism 
 of the old style, though it had been left for some time in the 
 shade, was still active, and now again assumed a threatening 
 attitude. On the conservative side there were many who 
 
 * The names of a few writers may be appended : Amnion, 
 Baumgarten, Dorner, Ebrard, Ewald, Francke, Hase, Hartmann 
 (Julius), Hoffmann, Kern, Krabbe, Lange, Lecliler, Lichtenstein, 
 Neander, Osiander, Biggenbach, Rotlie, Schaff, Schweitzer, Sturm, 
 Thiersch, Thomasius, Tholuck, Ullmannn, Weisse, Wieseler. Among 
 Roman Catholic authors may be named Sepp and Hettinger. 
 
458 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 were tired of controversy, and wished to find somewhere 
 a quiet place of refuge. Already, in Schleiermacher's teach- 
 ing, the authority of the Church had been made rather 
 prominent. There was now felt a wish to make that 
 doctrine more positive ; and even to go back to something 
 like old Lutheran orthodoxy. 
 
 The movement now taking place in Prussia was not 
 altogether unlike that which had already been made at 
 Oxford by the men who were at that time called "Trac- 
 tarians;" but this had a deeper source; was guided by 
 men of higher genius ; and was not a little strengthened by 
 its union with poetry. As one of its leaders suggested, 
 they " would have, if possible, Wordsworth on their side." 
 That was, however, not possible ; for the poet was, as to his 
 creed, a Church of England man of the moderate class. He 
 did not like the views of his neighbour Arnold, because they 
 were <e not well founded/' he said, " in a knowledge of 
 human nature." On the other hand he could rest contented 
 with the position held by the national church of his time. 
 At Oxford a dread of rationalism was only one of the motives 
 leading men to claim reverence for the traditions of the 
 Church, and to assert its spiritual authority. Among men 
 of another class German philosophy and theology led to such 
 views as at last found expression in the et Essays and 
 Keviews"of 1860. 
 
 Thus in England the quiet that had lately prevailed 
 respecting religious and ecclesiastical questions was dis- 
 turbed; but far more impetuous was the progress of 
 innovation in Germany. The conservative or retrogressive 
 movement was of short duration, and old divisions in belief 
 were now made wider by certain hasty attempts to promote 
 or enforce union. Meanwhile there had been made largo 
 preparations for further assaults on the faith still remaining 
 within the united confessions. Almost contemporaneously 
 there appeared, in 1863-4, three books one in French, two 
 in German all three of the class called destructive; in 
 some respects widely different, yet in their main tendency 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 459 
 
 alike.* It was obviously intended, in each instance, that 
 the work should be made popular ; that there should 
 be nothing in form and style to limit the circulation of 
 its doctrine among general readers. The intention was 
 thoroughly fulfilled in the first book a Parisian Oriental 
 romance against which German competition was hopeless. 
 Strauss was not incapable of levity ; but his new book, as 
 compared with the French romance, was serious. 
 
 It is in this book that he combines with his own mythical 
 theory, the tendency-theory of Baur. The faith of the 
 Church in the time 1 150 is the subject to be analysed; 
 and this time is divided into two periods. The aim of the 
 argument is to show how a faith developed in the later 
 period might have no historical basis in the former, and yet 
 might arise out of an idea then existing. This need not 
 suppose the existence of any fraud as belonging to the 
 former period. To make this clear, it was required to 
 show how a transition could be made from the comparatively 
 narrow faith ascribed to the first Christian disciples to the 
 more comprehensive Christianity of the second century. 
 Baur, whose dates are mostly accepted by Strauss, supposes 
 that of all the writings included in the New Testament, 
 only the following belong to the Apostolic Age : St. Paul's 
 Epistle to the Eomans ; his two Epistles to the Corinthians, 
 his Epistle to the Galatians ; and the Apocalypse, written 
 probably some few years after A.D. 70. Respecting facts 
 occurring in the earlier half of the first century Baur says 
 little ; but he finds in the Sermon on the Mount an ethical 
 nucleus of the religion afterwards developed in the life 
 and writings of St. Paul. The comprehensive Christianity 
 of this apostle was it is said affirmed by himself, in 
 opposition to the [supposed'] narrower faith of the earlier 
 apostles. In short the earlier Christians are but faintly 
 if sometimes apparently made distinct from the early 
 
 * Eenan, " La Vie de Jesus." 1863. Strauss, " Das Leben Jesu, 
 fiirdasdeutsclieVolkbearbeitet." 1861. Schenkel, " Das Charakterbild 
 Jesu," 1864. 
 
460 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Ebionites, who were marked by an especial, fanatical 
 opposition to Saint Paul. As far as is possible, Baur makes 
 almost synonymous the two titles, " Ebionites " and " Jewish 
 Christians." In writing of the latter, he describes them 
 as the early disciples of Christ, and yet as Jews. In all 
 respects they remained faithful to the religion of their fore- 
 fathers, and were strict in their observance of the law 
 especially the law of circumcision. In short, they were 
 Jews who recognized in Jesus of Nazareth their long- 
 expected Messiah. Here one is tempted to ask : how 
 could their faith remain "Jewish" after the time of 
 the crucifixion ? 
 
 It is of course understood by Baur and his school, that 
 their " system " as it has been and must be understood 
 can lead to no conclusion but this : " the belief of the 
 earliest Christians " including the followers of Saint Peter, 
 Saint John, and all the rest of the earlier apostles " was 
 generally equivalent to that more distinctly ascribed to the 
 Ebionites," who did not believe in the divinity of our Lord. 
 It is of course also well understood by Baur and his school, 
 that this their chief dogma can be viewed as opposed to a 
 large mass of evidence, supplied by all the writings of the New 
 Testament, and by some considerable remains of the imme- 
 diate Post-Apostolic time that are still extant. To say nothing 
 for the present of any other evidence, there is found enough in 
 the writings of Saint Paul to lead to a conclusion strongly 
 opposed to the Ebionite theory. There existed in his time 
 a belief in Christ that surely cannot be called " Ebionite." 
 This higher belief could not be one invented or developed 
 by the apostle himself; for he assumed that it was already 
 well known by numerous Christians who did not derive 
 from his teaching their first knowledge of Christ. Moreover, 
 so surely and so clearly is the earlier period, 1-70 or there- 
 abouts, connected with the second, 70-150, that it is im- 
 possible to account for any " development " (so-called) of 
 the higher belief except on this simple ground it was the 
 true belief, founded on the evidence afforded by Christ's 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 461 
 
 own life, death and resurrection, and on his own words 
 employed when he was speaking of Himself, and was 
 defining the belief respecting Himself which he would have 
 maintained by his followers. The faith of those called 
 " Jewish Christians " was a faith that had been inspired 
 by Christ himself, and had been boldly declared by his 
 apostles, before the conversion of Saul of Tarsus. If this 
 faith had been one of such a character that it might fairly 
 be called " Ebionite," how could the Church including all 
 followers of the earlier apostles soon afterwards accept a 
 far higher and more comprehensive faith, though it was one 
 made accordant with certain philosophical reasonings, and 
 recommended by the zeal and energy of Saint Paul. 
 
 This is the question that Baur and his school have to 
 answer. In their reply, they say much of a gradual " pro- 
 cess of ideas," but still leave, between the faith of the first 
 period and that of the second, a chasm if so we may define 
 their notion of a very wide difference in belief. Their theory 
 of a series of disputes and conciliations is but a chain of 
 " ideas " which is to span the aforesaid chasm. Meanwhile 
 they neglect or undervalue the evidence direct and indirect 
 that might be adduced on the other side. This evidence 
 Baur for the most part evades by means of silence ; in this 
 case a sign of prudence. Strauss in his second book 
 hardly recognizes the virtue of that prudence ; and conse- 
 quently he undertakes the task of answering a question to 
 which Baur's reply was mostly silence. The source of the 
 faith widely spread by the earlier apostles, and established 
 in Jerusalem and Rome to say nothing just now of any 
 other places this source Strauss would find in the attrac- 
 tive power of a character eminently virtuous and amiable, 
 though still merely human. The faith was soon enlarged, 
 exalted, and changed into a faith in One regarded as a 
 Person at once divine and human. How could so great a 
 change so soon take place ? Here Strauss is no longer 
 satisfied with such a reply as might be given in accordance 
 with his first theory of myths. He sees more or less clearly 
 
462 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 a want of a first impulse call it faith or enthusiasm to 
 account for the ready acceptation of the enlarged faith. 
 He therefore adds now to that theory a second supposition 
 one to the effect that, in the course of the second period, 
 some quasi-historical statements and certain new doctrines 
 based upon those statements, might be intentionally intro- 
 duced. To protect from the charge here implied the 
 Apostolic Age itself, a line though it seems impossible 
 must now be drawn between the second period and the 
 first. The inevitable failure to draw this line suddenly 
 reduces the whole discussion to a simple alternative : we 
 must accept or reject a conclusion which both Strauss and 
 Baur are willing to leave for the most part buried in silence. 
 In short their failure as to drawing that line must lead 
 them beyond all talk of " myths," ' " Pauline ideas/' and 
 ee later tendencies," to a distinct charge of falsehood impo- 
 sition. Never before was there known such a warning 
 against the danger of " proving too much." Strauss and 
 Baur, in all their discussions respecting the origin of the 
 Church and her faith, had always been moving on toward 
 one conclusion j but when they came to it they would 
 hardly name it. Their supposed distinct later period 70-150 
 is an invention useless even for their own own intention. 
 The faith they would define as then invented is found in 
 Saint Paul's writings, of which the dates are not later than 
 60, and in the Apocalypse, of which the date is not much 
 later than 70. It is impossible to show how a faith accepted 
 generally by the Church in 150 could then be so well 
 accepted if it had not been transmitted from the Apostles 
 transmitted so faithfully and held so firmly by multitudes 
 in their "regula fidei" that then and in later time they 
 were comparatively careless about evidence contained in 
 written documents. Again, it was for the Apostles im- 
 possible either to receive or to transmit such a faith, had it 
 not been given to them immediately as founded on the 
 highest possible authority. 
 
 On the part of Strauss and Baur, whose reasonings had 
 
CHAPTER xvm. STEAifsg. BAUB. 453 
 
 led them to utter negation, there followed an evasion of 
 their own conclusion; and this evasion so far as direct 
 expression of their negation is concerned may be regarded 
 as a kind of unwilling yet instinctive reverence ; or as an 
 involuntary confession of the fact, that they hardly liked 
 the ultimate result of their own " absolute logic." "Well 
 might they shrink from it, when it was exposed to the self- 
 evidential light thafc shines out in the Gospels, and is clearly 
 reflected in the writings of St. Paul. We have simply left 
 this alternative to believe what the apostle has said, or to 
 be guided by Baur. 
 
 As all men know believers and unbelievers next to 
 divine love, the strongest distinctive trait stamped every- 
 where on every society, every soul, every life, truly belonging 
 to Christ, is self-humiliation. To prove this, not a single 
 text will here be quoted; for if one were named, many 
 scores might suggest themselves as having equal claims to 
 our attention. The fact is, that here the moral conscience 
 of humanity darkened though it is can still bear witness 
 to the truth truth that may be rightly called human, while 
 it is also pre-eminently Christian the indisputable truth, 
 that just in proportion as we are making improvement in 
 our moral and religious life, in proportion as we are becoming 
 more and more conscious of our sins and failings, and are 
 striving to make ourselves free from their tyranny -just in 
 this proportion do we sink deeper and deeper into self- 
 humiliation. Now when " driven to bay " by such assaults 
 as, in these latter days, are made against the very centre of 
 our faith, we must neither practise nor allow any evasion of 
 the final question the question often suggested by Strauss 
 and Baur, and then evaded left without any satisfactory 
 answer. How could it be that, in union with perfect holiness 
 and self-humiliation, there could exist a thought of saying, 
 with regard to power and dominion, one word more than 
 the truth itself one word more than was at once in full 
 accordance with spotless moral purity, profound self-humi- 
 liation, clear self-knowledge, absolute agreement with and 
 
464 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 submission to the will of Grod? Is there in the life of 
 Christ, or in the early development; of his Church in his 
 character as seen immediately or as reflected in the lives of 
 his apostles and disciples is there anything that ought to 
 suggest such a possibility? Or if it must be again and 
 again suggested (by Kenan with a boldness especially his 
 own), why should there be cast on faithful, devoted apostles 
 and disciples a censure that does not belong to them ? And 
 why all this labour in the invention of "myths/' "tenden- 
 cies/' and "developments of ideas/' to account for the 
 gradual spread of an error that if supposed as possible 
 must have been created before their time ? Lastly, why all 
 this laborious discussion about the dates of writings included 
 in the canon of the New Testament ? In several respects 
 the inquiry is indeed highly interesting ; but as regards the 
 main question, a very large proportionate part of all the 
 arguments about the authenticity of various parts of the 
 canon may be viewed as irrelevant, or as superfluous. 
 
 The force of these questions will be felt, as soon as we 
 see clearly the character of the alternative to which we are 
 led by the "system" of Baur. His teaching respecting 
 the rise and progress of the Church is advisedly called a 
 " system." With regard to its vast display of reading, and 
 the industry exerted in compiling an enormous mass of 
 historical-biblical criticism, it may be called the most 
 elaborate of all the plans of warfare directed against the 
 historical evidences of Christianity. To speak with greater 
 precision the system of Baur and the rest of the " Tubingen 
 School" is one especially antagonistic against the divine 
 power and authority of Christ himself. This being the 
 main characteristic of the school, it is obviously desirable 
 on one side, and on the other that as far as is possible 
 personal names should be avoided. Accordingly, in the 
 further account to be given of Baur's teaching, it will 
 mostly be convenient to call it his "system." The faith 
 which it is intended to destroy is that expressed in the 
 central tenet of Christianity (pp. 9-12). 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 465 
 
 The " system" is the last of the three phases of modern 
 unbelief. Of the first the basis was deism (pp. 41-63). 
 This was substantially the faith held by " rationalists of 
 the old school/' whose attacks upon Christianity consisted 
 mostly of destructive biblical criticism. In the second 
 phase of unbelief is recognized the influence of Kant's 
 philosophy. Its negation of all historical religion or 
 objective knowledge of God was so far qualified as regards 
 Christianity, that this religion viewed on the ethical side 
 was accepted as including a system of divine moral 
 teaching, such as is urgently demanded by the character 
 and circumstances of the human race. Yet on the side of 
 this religion said Kant there exists no evidence for our 
 intellect. We can say only of such an ( ' ideal " as is made 
 manifest in the person of Christ " may it live in the hearts 
 of men as a power that shall attract to itself, and trans- 
 mute into its own nature, the souls of mankind !" But we 
 know nothing of moral power apart from a will, and nothing 
 of a will apart from personal existence. More need not be 
 added ; for a rather full account has been given of Kant's 
 scepticism (pp. 164-76). This among all forms of modern 
 unbelief may be called the most respectful. 
 
 After the time of Kant, his disciple, a man of deeper and 
 more earnest feeling Fichte led partly by his sympathy 
 with national sorrows, renounced so far the pride of his 
 earlier philosophy, that he recognized in Christ the founder 
 of the Kingdom of Heaven the ethical creator of a new 
 humanity. "The lapse of time" said Fichte (< serves 
 only to confirm the everlasting miracle, that in all who 
 come unto God through Christ Jesus a new heart is created ; 
 and until time expires, all who enter into the Kingdom 
 must come unto God by him (Christ); and until the end of 
 time, all who truly know themselves in their relation to him, 
 will bow down with profound reverence to acknowledge the 
 incomparable glory of his manifestation. In his life heaven 
 is opened, and by him has been proclaimed, for all mankind, 
 the freedom of the reign of God" (pp. 192-3). To this 
 
 30 
 
466 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 conclusion Fichte was led as we have said partly by the 
 events of the time 1808-13; but especially by his study of 
 the fourth Gospel ; and it is noticeable that this Gospel was 
 soon afterwards made the especial subject of destructive 
 criticism. The confession made by Fichte was one of many 
 signs indicating a disposition more or less favourable, as 
 regards a return toward Christian faith. Other evidences of 
 the same change of sentiment are seen in the literature of 
 the "Bomantic School/' and here and there in the latest 
 writings of Goethe (pp. 295-9). The reaction in favour 
 of the Christian faith was, however, made more clearly 
 apparent in the later writings of Schleiermacher 1821-31 
 above all in his course of lectures on Christology (pp. 443-8). 
 It is especially against the central doctrine of these lectures 
 that the ponderous criticism of Baur and his followers has 
 been directed. Their " system" the latest and most 
 elaborate of all forms in which modern unbelief has been 
 propounded is in the first place negative to a vast extent, 
 but has a quasi-historical form of construction, and is sup- 
 posed to be built on a philosophical principle that which 
 has already been defined as the second or middle interpreta- 
 tion of Hegel's logic (pp. 426-7). In passing, it may be 
 noticed, that the writer does not accept this interpretation 
 as correct ; however, it has now been made dominant. 
 
 The philosophical basis of. the Tubingen School is briefly 
 this : Keligion is immanent in human nature ; that is to 
 say, the ideas for which we suppose ourselves to be indebted 
 to divine grace and revelation truly belong to ourselves 
 to the whole human race. There have been certain times 
 especially favourable to the self-development of these 
 principles ; and of all these times the most remarkable was 
 the earlier part of the first century. The low moral esti- 
 mate already given of that period (pp. 236-40) though con- 
 sonant with a vast body of evidence supplied by heathen 
 historians, and confirmed by the testimony of St. Paul 
 (Rom. c. i.), is on the whole rejected as too severe, or as 
 one-sided; at any rate it is left comparatively unnoticed, 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 467 
 
 or is partly suppressed by the writers who follow Baur, 
 while their utmost industry is employed in the compilation 
 of masses of quasi-historical evidences to show that, at that 
 time, human nature was remarkably well qualified to produce 
 for itself a new religion. Accordingly great importance is 
 ascribed to the philosophy of the Stoics, and still more to 
 the dreamy teaching of Philo especially his idea of the 
 Xo7o?. This "idea/' we are assured, was made the basis 
 of the fourth Gospel which was first produced (it is said) 
 about the time A.D. 150. Meanwhile, it is added, the great 
 apostle of the Gentiles had constructed "out of his own 
 inner consciousness" a Christology of a very exalted 
 character, which was strongly opposed to the small or 
 " poor " creed of the earliest Christians the Jewish Chris- 
 tians who were in fact " Ebionites " ( "P^M = ' ' poor ") . 
 We are informed, that they did not believe in the divinity 
 of Christ. Out of these several chaotic elements there arose 
 marvellously, about the year 150, the creed of " the Catholic 
 Church \" How ? A reply to this question is afforded by 
 virtue of the philosophical principle a supposed power that 
 has no more reality than a dream. In order that we may 
 believe in the strength of this principle, it must first of all 
 be well understood that " ideas " have life in themselves j 
 and, like all other living things, they have of course a 
 power of self-development. This power has a mode of 
 operation a wearisome and monotonous routine that may 
 be explained as easily as the working of a machine. No 
 sooner has an " idea " unfolded itself, or asserted a life of 
 its own, than it calls up or provokes to action some counter- 
 idea. Warfare follows of course, and the end of it is, that 
 the stronger idea takes out of the weaker such energy as 
 this might once possess, and thus the former enriches and 
 invigorates its own life. The life of the Church has con- 
 sisted we are told of a series of such ideal conflicts. The 
 latest is that now maintained between the " system " itself 
 and positive Christianity. From all tlu's it follows, that 
 histories of persons, however eminent, have comparatively 
 
 30 * 
 
468 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 but little importance. In the history of the Church, the 
 name of St. Paul must indeed remain prominent, because 
 he was the earliest expositor of the universal or catholic 
 " idea/' of which, however, a full and clear exposition is 
 given only in the writings of Baur and his followers. They 
 know clearly what the apostle saw, but "as in a glass 
 darkly/' The oracular style of these few sentences is 
 representative of that mostly prevalent among the biblical 
 critics who represent the system. On several points they 
 have among themselves differences not inconsiderable ; but 
 they mostly agree in one conclusion that Christianity is 
 the result of the ideal process already defined, and that its 
 true beginning must be ascribed to a time not earlier than 
 A.D. 150. About this time the doctrine of the \6yo$ was 
 united with historical belief in Christ. Such narrow notions 
 as had been held by the Ebionites were rejected; and 
 these people, who had formerly been classed with Jewish 
 Christians, were now called heretics. Meanwhile the 
 particularism of Jewish Christianity and its adherence to 
 the law had been overcome by the Pauline doctrine of grace 
 for all mankind. Such was the result, we are told, of a 
 development of ideas. But what is there said of the power 
 by which the whole movement, as here supposed, was begun 
 and sustained ? 
 
 That a faith may be followed by a philosophy by some 
 endeavour to understand what we already believe is 
 obvious ; but how can a philosophy produce a faith ? To 
 say nothing here of religion now when political society 
 has long existed, we are still far from coming to an 
 intellectual agreement respecting its origin; but this we 
 know, that it was not founded in ideas, but in feelings or 
 instincts living powers that can move individuals, families, 
 and tribes powers that, when acting with full energy, can 
 make a vast army move as one man. Wonderful this may 
 be called ; and nature, gravitation, the forces moving in 
 vegetation, in meteorology, animal life, and on a higher scale, 
 those that control our own lower instincts, and lead us to 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STEAUSS. BAUR. 469 
 
 unselfish ethical feeling and action, to pure friendship, to 
 self-sacrifice, to adoration these powers are also marvellous, 
 if the word is to be used so freely as to mark everything 
 that cannot be measured by the understanding. Then why 
 are we asked to accept, as the origin of the Christian faith, 
 a hard, intellectual "system/* with nothing but "absolute 
 logic," to serve instead of both heart and head ? 
 
 If instead of a few paragraphs many more volumes could 
 be written in opposition to the teaching of the Tubingen 
 School, its adherents would still regard as safe their own 
 voluminous superstructure, consisting of enormous piles of 
 biblical-historical criticism and treatises on speculative 
 philosophy. To notice their numerous writings, and pay 
 some fair regard to their relative degrees of importance, 
 would be a very difficult task; one demanding great 
 resources of learning, and abundant leisure. It may, 
 however, be possible to give some clear account of their 
 first principles, or the data assumed on their side as self- 
 evident or highly probable. These constitute the basis of 
 their whole superstructure, and if this basis is weak or 
 false, then the higher the tower thereon built, the sooner will 
 it fall to the ground. There may now be cited, in the form 
 of a brief abstract, the account given by Baur himself 
 respecting the origin of our faith. He first assumes as 
 granted a rejection of all that is supernatural, or transcends 
 the limitations of our human faculties. It is, however, 
 admitted that, in the early history of the Church, are found 
 several indisputable facts of which no rationalistic account 
 can be given ; and these are facts of the highest importance. 
 The substance of Christianity it is said is the morality 
 taught in the Sermon on the Mount ; yet it is granted that 
 this moral teaching would have remained inoperative, if Jesus 
 of Nazareth had not been accepted by his disciples as the 
 Messiah so long expected. Their faith remained, com- 
 paratively speaking, untried so long as he was living among 
 them. It was at least possible says Baur that its character 
 might be so far misunderstood, that a faith intended to 
 
470 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 become universal might be made national or particularistic. 
 This danger was set aside by the fact of his death. The 
 faith of which Christ was the centre could now no longer be 
 viewed as a new expression of ideas that still belonged to 
 Judaism. It was impossible for Jews to believe in a Messiah 
 who had suffered death by crucifixion. These are some of 
 the first data assumed by Baur. He proceeds, however, to 
 show that the religion of the Early Church, established in 
 Jerusalem, was nevertheless to a large extent Jewish, and 
 that its view of the Messiah was mostly that which as 
 ascribed to the Ebionites of a later time was called heretical. 
 The difficulties here suggested must be left awhile unnoticed, 
 while other data or supposed facts are stated partly in 
 Baur's own words. 
 
 ' f Never " he says ' ' was an apparent defeat so surely 
 made a victory as by the death of Jesus." Faith in him 
 must now die with him ; or must rise into a higher life, and 
 put forth a greater energy. ' ' What the resurrection was in 
 itself is a question that lies beyond the circle of historical 
 inquiry ; but this is most certain, that, in the consciousness 
 of his disciples, it had all the firmness of a sure historical 
 fact, and by this fact there was supplied a basis for the 
 development of the new faith/' In passing it may be 
 noticed, how barely the critic abbreviates the facts he gives, 
 and how quietly he suppresses others of which he is well 
 informed. The faith of which he speaks was immediately 
 followed by a divine impulse of a most extraordinary 
 character an impulse that defies every attempt to describe 
 it. For it would be mere feebleness to speak of a widely 
 and swiftly- spreading electric thrill, pervading the souls of 
 multitudes [including even many like those defined in 1 Cor. 
 6, 9-11] or of a consciousness of exalted spiritual power; or 
 of a suddenly-developed courage, before which the world 
 itself was made to shrink into insignificance. "The fact/' 
 says Baur " that after the death of their Lord, the disciples 
 did not flee away from Jerusalem, or assemble in any 
 remote place, shows great strength of faith and increase of 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STEAUSS. BAUR. 471 
 
 heir confidence in the cause of Jesus." Here he writes 
 ' { death/' where " resurrection " would be the true word. 
 In another place he admits, that over the interval elapsing 
 between the former event and the latter there is spread a 
 veil we know nothing of it. The disciples' faith in the 
 resurrection so the critic now goes on to say was their 
 source of strength. This faith might, he adds, afterwards 
 become mingled with Jewish notions ; and in the second 
 coming of the Lord a Messiah of a national type might be 
 once more expected. The universal character of the religion 
 to be spread throughout the world might thus be forgotten, 
 or might be greatly contracted. Here Baur suggests the 
 notion, that the new religion might soon fall back into a 
 form of Judaism. But such retrogression he adds was 
 soon made impossible by an event of the highest importance 
 the conversion of Saul, afterwards known as St. Paul. 
 His teaching says the critic " made a new beginning in 
 the development of Christianity." The process of his 
 conversion is next described as c ' a mystery of which neither 
 a psychological, nor a dialectical analysis can be given. At 
 once God revealed in him his Son" [Jesus]. . . . "For 
 the conversion of Saul " thus Baur continues { ' what cause 
 can be assigned save the mighty impulse communicated 
 to him, when suddenly that one great fact the death of 
 Jesus was as it were made manifest in his inmost soul ? " 
 It is added, that " it was but natural that, as Saul had been 
 a violent persecutor, so now he should become a zealous 
 Christian;" and it is especially noticed, that at once he 
 was converted and made an apostle. Next follows some 
 account of his early labours, his originality, and his indepen- 
 dence the latter asserted especially in the case of his 
 dispute with St. Peter. This controversy is described as an 
 event so important, that its issue must be regarded as the 
 true beginning of Christianity. The religion of the Jewish 
 Christians including " the earlier apostles " was, says 
 Baur, but narrow and sectarian, and as regards faith in the 
 Messiah, might be called Ebionite, until the time when 
 
472 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 St. Paul's teaching described as mainly Ms own obtained 
 in the Church a predominant position. About the same 
 time the doctrine of the \6yos was more distinctly accepted 
 in union with an historical belief in Christ's humanity ; and 
 thus, it is said, was established in the latter half of the 
 second century a religion that, as regards its essential 
 ideas, is catholic and final. 
 
 The final aim of the system may now be briefly indicated. 
 It is now required thus we are instructed that our faith 
 should be understood in a philosophical way. Its essential 
 ideas may be still retained, it is said, although we reject 
 that one article of our faith that has been regarded by the 
 Church, in all ages, as the centre and substance of the 
 Christian Eeligion. The Church it is said has developed 
 her faith in Christ, and by means of this development, has 
 greatly enlarged and elevated our own ethical capacity, and 
 our philosophy of humanity. We now see in revelation the 
 development of reason in which a human element and a 
 divine are always united and thus we are led back, by all 
 the elaborate criticism of Baur, to a conclusion not unlike 
 that arrived at by the gnosticism of the second century. The 
 end is accordant with the beginning. First of all we are 
 taught, that the truth, once accepted as a revelation, 
 naturally grew up out of Judaism and philosophy. Last 
 of all we learn, that religion now must die, and philosophy 
 must take its place. 
 
 In accordance with this vain and most presumptuous 
 teaching, there follows an idea often suggested by certain 
 writers an idea so far opposite to all religious sentiment, 
 that one might willingly leave it unnoticed, or undefined ; 
 and yet it must be named, if a fair account is to be given of 
 the " system " and its ultimate tendency. The thankfulness 
 and the adoration of Christians who, in all stages of their 
 spiritual growth, remain still conscious of their dependence ; 
 these are defined as due to the development of their own 
 reason ; or to an impersonal evolution of ideas- a power of 
 Which the source is immanent in ourselves and are not- to 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 473 
 
 be regarded as rightfully due to One who has " called us 
 out of darkness into light." The error is Titanic. It 
 seems to be implied that faith is a loss a sacrifice of some- 
 thing that belongs to ourselves. There can hardly exist a 
 thought more remote from that childlike faith which is the 
 essence of religion. 
 
 As regards its large library filled with biblical-historical 
 criticism and speculative philosophy all produced in 
 support of the " system " the Tubingen School must be 
 viewed as a gigantic institute for the spread of unbelief. 
 Its ponderous masses of erudition supply the data and the 
 reasonings that serve mostly as an armoury for antichristian 
 writers, in England and France, as well as in Germany. 
 Nothing is easier now than to make a show of biblical- 
 historical learning, when the object is to reduce Christian 
 belief to a pile of ruins. 
 
 For more than a century, numerous professors of biblical 
 history, criticism and theology have treated their own 
 professed faith as if it were but a dead body on which 
 experiments might be tried. They have dissected or torn 
 to pieces almost every book of the New Testament. To a 
 very large extent, the reasonings of these critics consist of 
 wranglings about probabilities. Among themselves they 
 can rarely agree. In the (( Tubingen School" itself, Baur's 
 dates of the canonical writings of the New Testament have 
 not been generally accepted as correct. There are critics in 
 this school who assign to the first century some parts of the 
 canon that Baur assigns to the second. There is at least 
 one disciple who has lately shown a wish to turn his back 
 upon the school.* The consequence is that he is regarded 
 as a scholar " whose judgment is not clear." These are 
 but items in an unending series of differences, such as might 
 have been for Semler so many more demonstrations of his 
 own proposition ( ' no two men can have the same religion " 
 (pp. 49-51). To give a fair account of all the process of 
 
 * Hilgenfeld. " Historisch-kritisclie Einleitung as neue Tes- 
 tament" (1876). 
 
474 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 destruction called " biblical-historical criticism " this 
 would be a task as difficult as to define on a chart every 
 tack in Satan's voyage through chaos, as described by 
 Milton. 
 
 It might naturally be supposed, that the criticism of 
 Baur would hardly affect the minds of the common people ; 
 but the fact is that it has been made popular by means of 
 cheap serials, magazine papers, and hastily- written reviews. 
 In such forms as these, his results are often given with 
 exaggeration. The literary history of the Early Church 
 is a study especially demanding caution; and inevitably 
 suggests certain large questions respecting which men of 
 considerable learning fail to see alike. There are chiefly 
 three distinct questions to be considered. One relates to 
 the existence of gospels mostly and formally identical with 
 those now accepted as canonical. The second question 
 relates to substantial concord as existing in the gospels, 
 epistles, and " memoirs of the apostles" known before 150. 
 The third question relates to the character of the Christology 
 then prevalent. In the study of this third question, it is 
 especially important that the value of indirect evidence 
 should be duly considered. Here it is often not to say 
 generally more powerful than direct assertion. 
 
 But why should any suggestions like these be intruded 
 on the notice of men who are still numbered with those 
 whom we must call destructive critics ? It is too late. 
 They not without aid from other quarters have done 
 their work; have destroyed the religion once existing 
 among millions of the people. And what is there given as 
 a substitute for the faith destroyed ? A something shapeless 
 as the aspect ascribed to Death himself by the poet already 
 named. Since Semler's day, the course of negation has 
 been a rapid descent on a slope of ice. One thinks he will 
 stand firmly on a narrow shelf which he calls his own " ideal 
 Paulinism/' while another will go down only just as far as 
 "deism;" but gravitation will assert its force, and they 
 must both go down to the bottom, which is atheism. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 475 
 
 Facts have warranted this view of the case. It was once 
 held as good " logic " that ideas and facts must agree ; a 
 supernatural revelation had been required it was said - 
 and had been granted. This was once accepted as good 
 philosophy. Then came two writers Biedermann and 
 Pfleiderer showing how we must be careful to observe, 
 that the revelation talked of after all never did take place in 
 such a form as that in which millions of Christians believe. 
 There can be nothing better than the old-fashioned way 
 of showing men the very essence of religion, as it were 
 embodied, and made clear for the good of all men thus 
 Pfleiderer writes in effect but in accordance with the 
 demands of his " absolute logic/ 3 he adds, that if the gospel 
 is to be preached sometimes in that way, it can be allowed 
 only as a temporary expedient ad populum captandum. 
 
 Another writer Lipsius gives us a something to serve 
 instead of a faith, an idealism of which the basis is Kant's 
 teaching. Next comes a renowned pessimist critic,* who 
 exposes the error of making any idealism absolute or 
 subjective a representative of the Christian faith. This 
 faith he goes on to say is now defunct ; its ethical teaching, 
 once admired, is at the best merely external or formal, 
 and does not reach the hearts of men. [These sayings are 
 really the critic's own.] Instead of that faith, he now 
 undertakes to say, that he will soon produce and evolve ' ' a 
 principle" that will in future serve " better than Chris- 
 tianity" to inspire and direct ethically the whole body of 
 the human race. The intention is large ; but we fear that 
 sufficient time will hardly be allowed for such a performance 
 as here is promised. In Berlin changes of theory must 
 now-a-days be " sensational." Idealism has been slain, and 
 is buried by pessimism ; and now appears the latest novelty 
 in the shape of that very old enemy materialism. Our 
 human " consciousness," of which so much has been said by 
 idealists and pessimists, is itself we are told now nothing 
 more than a delusion. All those actions of our brains that 
 
 * Ed. von Hartmann ; " Der Krisis des Christentliums " (1881). 
 
476 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 once were ascribed to divine influence are simply the results 
 of changes taking place in molecules. Matter is all. Every- 
 thing is material. Man is a bundle of sensations. He 
 works like an automaton, and cannot sin ; for matter never 
 sins. 
 
 This is the result. Here is the substitute for the faith 
 destroyed. It is not mere declamation, but sober truth, 
 when it is asserted/ that every word that can be said 
 against Christianity has been said and repeated usque ad 
 nauseam in Berlin ; but that now the social principles and 
 movements there most dreaded, are so dreaded especially 
 because they are irreligious. Given Christian faith, love 
 and hope we would add patience as still existing ; then 
 possibly the formidable social democracy of our day might 
 be controlled and well directed. Of the actual case existing 
 it is not ours to judge. We have already contended at 
 length (pp. 168-73) that we can have no social order 
 without true ethics, and no true ethics without the Christian 
 religion. Having made ourselves responsible for the truth 
 of these sequences, we must not undertake further to show 
 how far they are accordant with the facts social and 
 political made especially prominent in our own day. 
 
 To depict fairly the condition of Germany in the present 
 age, is a task requiring clear observation and careful dis- 
 crimination. There are evils and dangers there existing of 
 which the source is far older than the rationalism of our 
 century, or that preceding ours. For a long time now, 
 there has existed not in Germany alone a divorce between 
 faith and life, of which the results are now making them- 
 selves more and more apparent. Logic has not done all 
 the mischief. The destructive criticism of Baur and his 
 school has made a climax ; but this is only one of the bad 
 results of an intellectual sort of credence. Of other results 
 the general character has been well intimated, by means of 
 familiar terms : (< These Germans believe with their heads ; 
 that is to say, they do not believe at all." This well 
 describes the creed or no-creed of many learned critics. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. STRAUSS. BAUR. 477 
 
 Against them, with all their voluminous libraries the 
 shelves bending under loads of erudition it would be 
 presumptuous to contend; so firm is their faith in their 
 own logic. Their results are for the most part re-assertions 
 of their first principles ; and of these the chief is an utter 
 rejection of all belief belonging to a supernatural order. 
 Nothing is more characteristic of German sages, specialists, 
 and philosophers than their contempt of the multitudes left 
 destitute of means for obtaining erudition. In the field of 
 classic scholarship, this pride of professorship might have 
 some appropriateness of character; but it is altogether out 
 of place where we have to treat of the Christian faith. It 
 betrays ignorance of the worst sort. 
 
 Kespect is due to the intellectual powers of great critics, 
 though their trust in their own wisdom sometimes leads 
 them too far ; but higher respect is due to the faith of the 
 heart, the sound ethical feeling in a word, the religion 
 on which the welfare of millions of men, women and children 
 has always been dependent the faith that once made 
 millions accept with thankfulness this life with all its 
 sorrows. This faith must not be surrendered in obedience 
 to Baur's system ; nor on the other hand need it be defended 
 by special refutation of every part of his fallacies. 
 
 Everywhere in the f ' system " we are brought into collision 
 with discrepancies or discords described as existing in the 
 Early Church. One might be induced to suppose, that the 
 whole Christian literature of the first two centuries consisted 
 of a mere series of discordant doctrines. We shall, never- 
 theless, be able to show how, on most important questions, 
 concordant expressions are predominant; and especially 
 where they serve to confirm our belief that the Christology 
 of that time was true; was accordant not only with our 
 Lord's own declarations, but also with the teaching of St. 
 Paul's chief epistles, the other epistles, the four Gospels, the 
 Apocalypse, and the writings of the apostolic fathers. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 
 
 How will the long controversy be ended ? The question 
 is suggested ; but merely with this intention that every- 
 thing like such presumption as would attempt an answer 
 may here be disowned. The issue belongs to the future, 
 and lies far beyond the reach of our understanding; but 
 ours is the responsibility of taking a part on one side or the 
 other. Neutrality is not possible. We have no such liberty 
 as is sometimes imagined to exist a liberty of holding an 
 intermediate position between belief and unbelief. This has 
 been made clear by the "system" of which an account has 
 been given. It is a modern gnosis, that would put ideas in 
 the place of facts, and would separate from Christ his own 
 Church. It is impossible. 
 
 On the side of Christianity, the results of modern contro- 
 versy are especially remarkable when we notice the numerous 
 books written lately on Christology and on the history of 
 the Early Church. They are in many instances so valuable, 
 that to notice them briefly would be an injustice. Of their 
 general conclusions a word may be said. 
 
 There existed in the Early Church before A.D. 58 a 
 presence, a power, never before made manifest in human 
 nature; accordingly there went forth thence an influence 
 of faith, love, and hope by which the world was afterwards 
 overcome. This influence was not uniformly sustained 
 throughout the period. Its more powerful manifestation is 
 seen in the writings of St. Paul dated before A.D. 60 and 
 something that may be called a " remission" of fervour 
 may be found in certain patristic writings of the second 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 479 
 
 century. In treating these writings as evidential respecting 
 the Christology of their period, sound learning and keen 
 insight are especially demanded in every critic who would 
 fairly represent the truth. For critics of another school, 
 here is a department of study, where apparent contra- 
 dictions may often be found, while deep concords are left 
 unnoticed. A perverse ingenuity may here find partial 
 evidence, to show how the writings of St. Paul were 
 despised, or were even unknown. Thus for example, much 
 may be said of Hegesippus (A.D. 150) and his supposed 
 "Ebionite views;" and meanwhile Clement of B-ome (A.D. 
 100) and his " Epistle to the Corinthians" so well ac- 
 cordant with Pauline teaching may be left in the shade. 
 This indicates but one of many instances where, by means 
 of partial evidence, an erroneous conclusion may be stated 
 so as to seem well founded on historical facts. 
 
 Respecting the chief result of the system a so-called 
 " historical " separation made between Christ and his Church 
 there is one fact that should be especially noticed. It 
 should be deeply studied; for although well known, it is 
 not generally well understood. The early fathers were not 
 theorists. They felt, believed, and knew far more than they 
 could put into a systematic form; and when they were 
 telling one part of the truth, they did not suppose that 
 silence respecting another part would be viewed as equi- 
 valent to denial. They believed in many instances more 
 than their writings directly asserted. The divinity of their 
 Lord united with his humanity this was the truth that was 
 often implied when not directly expressed. Belief of this 
 truth was the life and power of the Church. It was one 
 belief in one Lord. The apostolic fathers did not, for the 
 most part, care to inquire how their faith might be analyzed, 
 so that it might be described as consisting of two beliefs ; 
 nor how these two might be harmonized, so as to appear 
 again as one. To these metaphysical questions their faithful 
 successors were urged by the assaults of heresies. On one 
 side the Church had those who more or less distinctly 
 
480 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 denied the divinity; on the other, those who denied the 
 humanity of our Lord; and guided by his own wisdom, 
 she more and more distinctly that is to say, with greater 
 dialectic clearness asserted the truth that had been held 
 from the beginning. It was not more fully asserted, but 
 was more distinctly shown. There was nothing new in it, 
 save the mode of exposition. In the days of the Early 
 Church, the mind of man, though permeated by the Holy 
 Spirit, had the same nature that it has now. Faith comes 
 first, and includes in its grasp all that the intellect has 
 afterwards to unfold out of that faith. The faith of the 
 early fathers seems here and there to be involved in some 
 obscurity, aud is sometimes, as we have said, implied rather 
 than expressed. Thus lies in the earth and in obscurity 
 for a time the bulb out of which a flower arises ; yet the 
 bulb and the flower are one. The oak is in the acorn. 
 
 The Christians who lived in the first hundred years after 
 the Resurrection were, for the most part, practical men 
 " witnesses" and held firmly the substance of the same 
 faith that, in later days, was expounded in a more systematic 
 form. Their ' ' regula fidei" (rule of faith) was so far trusted, 
 that they were not at all anxious to define strictly a canon 
 of the writings containing records of the faith cherished as 
 apostolical. Justin Martyr for example (150) mentions 
 "Gospels" and " Memoirs of the Apostles," as affording 
 the "lessons" read on Sundays in churches in his time, as 
 in the time preceding ; and it is clear that these writings 
 called " Gospels" and " Memoirs" did, in numerous in- 
 stances, contain records identical with those still preserved in 
 our four Gospels ; yet the father does not tell us enough to 
 prevent modern disputations respecting the extent of the 
 correspondence existing between his "Gospels" and those 
 now accepted as canonical. The epistles of St. Paul are 
 not named by Justin ; yet how can we doubt the fact that 
 he was well acquainted with them ? His teaching respecting 
 the WORD (\6yos) especially deserves study, as illustrative 
 of the distinction to be made between implicit faith and 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 481 
 
 knowledge, on the one hand, and explicit or systematic 
 theory on the other. By means of confusion made on this 
 point, gross errors have been widely spread respecting the 
 facts of early Christianity. It has been said, for instance 
 and with some plausible show of learning that in Justin's 
 time, such teaching as his own, respecting the doctrine of 
 the Xoryo?, was altogether "new." This is a false repre- 
 sentation, as might be shown by several facts, of which only 
 one can here be named. Justin, in illustration of his doctrine, 
 borrows an image from the action of fire. " From one fire," 
 he says, " another is kindled, and again another ; and yet the 
 first is not thereby diminished ; and this teaching," he adds, 
 " has been delivered to me. 3 ' 
 
 Enough has been said to make clear these facts : For 
 those who are contentious the history of the Early Church 
 can afford abundant materials of controversy, such as have 
 been compiled by Semler (p. 51) and in later days by his 
 successor Baur (232-6) . Such questions as those which they 
 have made so prominent may be multiplied to any extent 
 desired ; but however so multiplied, they will, not affect 
 the central truth cherished as the heart of: the Church 
 throughout the first two centuries, and subsequently more 
 strictly defined. Faith in Christ true God and true man 
 was the centre, the soul, of the belief established in the 
 several churches of Jerusalem, Kome, Corinth and Galatia, 
 at a time, to say the least, as early as A.D. 58 ; that is to 
 say, about twenty-five years after the Eesurrection. For 
 proof of this, nothing more is required than the evidence 
 supplied by four epistles written by St. Paul one to the 
 Eomans, another to the Galatians, and two to the Corinthians 
 those epistles of which no educated unbeliever doubts the 
 genuineness. The apostle here takes it for granted, that Chris- 
 tians though still liable to error on subordinate subjects- 
 required now (in A.D. 55-8) no further instruction respecting 
 the central ground of their faith ; that is to say, their belief 
 in the divinity and the supremacy of their Lord. That faith 
 was already well established; and yet they must be reproved. 
 
 31 
 
482 GEEMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 For what reason? Because, while they all believed in that 
 central truth, they did not all understand its relations. 
 They did not see the conclusions to which it should lead 
 them. At Corinth the church included too many whose 
 disposition was contentious and sectarian. They did not 
 know how large a sacrifice of their particular tendencies 
 was demanded by the faith they professed. St. Paul 
 wrestled with their errors, and eventually gained a victory. 
 
 For some time afterwards the church at Corinth had rest; 
 and the ethics belonging to their Christian faith adorned 
 the lives of many believers. This we learn from the epistle 
 addressed to them by Clement, writing from Borne soon 
 after A.D. 90. After commendation of their former faith 
 and obedience especially their charity he deplores the 
 fact, that once more they were lapsed into the same practical 
 errors that had been reproved by St. Paul in his two 
 epistles to the Corinthians. Now as before, it is not said 
 that any change had taken place in the substance of their 
 faith. In this respect they were still Christians; but the 
 fact is deplored, that they were not living in accordance 
 with their faith. Again, insubordination, levity of demeanour 
 above all, pride and self-conceit were prevalent at 
 Corinth, as in the days when the love and patience of St. 
 Paul were severely tried. And how are these errors now 
 reproved ? In a tone perfectly consonant with St. Paul's 
 firm and dignified, yet gentle and benevolent expressing, 
 not here and there, or in any formal proposition, but 
 throughout, and in every sentence, the faith and love of a 
 Christian. " Our pride " says the writer of this epistle 
 ' ' dies away while we dwell in contemplation of Christ's 
 suffering. To have constantly before our eyes the death of 
 our Lord this is the sign of a Christian; this the means by 
 which he is led to repentance and obedience." These, like 
 many other passages in the same epistle, are fair examples 
 of numerous concords found in the writings of the apostolic 
 fathers, and too often left unnoticed by critics of the 
 destructive class, . They have examined minutely every 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 483 
 
 word in this epistle, to find here, if possible, some instance 
 of divergence from the teaching of St. Paul. There can 
 hardly be suggested a doubt respecting the fact, that in 
 Rome he suffered martyrdom in A.D. 64. Six years before 
 this time, he had addressed to the church in Rome which 
 he had not planted, and had not visited an epistle 
 containing a most exalted Christology. It was herein taken 
 for granted, that his doctrine respecting the person and the 
 work of Christ required no proof, but had already been 
 accepted and was established among the Christians dwelling 
 at Rome. 
 
 A study of Christian evidences can hardly begin in a 
 better way than by means of comparing with the teaching 
 of Paul, in A.D. 58, the teaching of Clement, about the time 
 A.D. 95. The apostle thus begins his epistle : " Paul, a 
 servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, separated 
 unto the gospel of God . . . concerning his Son Jesus 
 Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David 
 according to the flesh ; and declared to be the Son of God 
 with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the 
 resurrection from the dead : by whom we have received 
 grace and apostleship, for obedience to the faith among all 
 nations, for his name : among whom are ye also the called 
 of Jesus Christ : to all that be in Rome, beloved of God, 
 called to be saints : Grace to you and peace from God our 
 Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.''' In the fifth and sixth 
 chapters of the epistle, the writer assumes that the facts 
 of Christ's vicarious sufferings and death are already well 
 known and believed by those whom he addresses, and he 
 now proceeds to show the results that should follow their 
 faith : " Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized 
 into Jesus Christ, were baptized into his death ? Therefore 
 we are buried with him by baptism into death ; that like as 
 Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the 
 Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. For 
 if we have been planted together in the likeness of his 
 death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection. 
 
 31 * 
 
484 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that 
 the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we 
 should not serve sin, for he that is dead is freed from sin. 
 Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall 
 also live with him : knowing that Christ being raised from 
 the dead dieth no more, death hath no more dominion over 
 him. For in that he died, he died unto sin once, but in that 
 he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye your- 
 selves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord." (Rom. vi. 3-11.) 
 
 This passage might be cited, with others, to establish the 
 fact, that the Church was based on the truth of the Resur- 
 rection ; but here we have to notice chiefly one trait in the 
 teaching of St. Paul the predominance of one idea. Again 
 and again we find it expressed in such passages as the 
 following : 
 
 "I determined not to know anything among you, save 
 Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." . . . " Other ground 
 can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." 
 ... "Ye are the body of Christ." ... "He that 
 regardeth the day [the sabbath, etc.] regardeth it unto the 
 Lord ; and he that regardeth not the day, to the Lord he 
 doth not regard it. He that eateth, eateth to the Lord, for 
 he giveth God thanks ; and he that eateth not, to the Lord 
 he eateth not, and giveth God thanks. For none of us 
 liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. For whether 
 we live, we live unto the Lord ; and whether we die, we die 
 unto the Lord : whether we live therefore, or die, we are 
 the Lord's. For to this end Christ both died, and rose, and 
 revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and living. 
 But why dost thou judge thy brother ? or why dost thou set 
 at nought thy brother ? for we shall all stand before the 
 judgment-seat of Christ. For it is written, 'As I live, 
 saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every 
 tongue shall confess to God. So then every one of us shall 
 give account of himself to God." 
 
 It will on every side be granted that the texts quoted 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN .EVIDENCES, 4 So 
 
 have not been selected as those which most briefly, clearly, 
 and emphatically assert the divinity of our Lord. Of such 
 passages as have been noticed, where one line is given, a 
 page might would space allow as easily be given ; or, if 
 we could here include among our authorities the whole lite- 
 rature of the Church in the first two centuries, then instead 
 of each line a volume might be giveD. The cited passages 
 if adduced in evidence of our Lord's divinity may be 
 called indirect. Are they, because they are indirect, less 
 powerful? In our own daily conversation do we, in any 
 direct way, repeat often that which is already known to 
 those with whom, we converse ? Do we tell them that the 
 sun is shining; or that the sun is the source of light; or 
 that we feel assured our life could not be sustained without 
 the sun's influence ? On these points we are all mostly 
 silent, because we all are agreed. Now faith in Christ was 
 the light of life for St. Paul, and for those to whom his 
 epistles were addressed. Consequently, he reminds them 
 often- of their faith, he speaks of the consequences that 
 should flow from it; but for the most part he does not 
 assert formally or endeavour to confirm the historical facts 
 on which that faith was grounded. An exception one 
 highly remarkable does indeed exist ; but it is an excep- 
 tion that will prove the rule (1 Cor. xi. 23-32). Here facts 
 that had been " delivered " to them are solemnly repeated. 
 Among the Corinthians were some whose conduct might 
 imply that the facts had been forgotten. 
 
 The apostle, writing about twenty-five years after the 
 Kesurrection, assumes that there existed then in the Church 
 the one true Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is further taken for 
 granted, that the doctrine and practical guidance given in 
 his epistles will be found accordant with the facts declared 
 in that Gospel that living record of Christ which then was 
 so clear, so true, and vivid, that we use but a feeble word 
 when we call it a " portraiture." For the most part its 
 prominent traits are supposed as well known, or are named 
 only in order to give force to the apostle's exhortations, 
 
486 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 which may all be reduced to one that those whom he 
 addresses should ' ' walk " (that is to say, live and act) in 
 accordance with their faith. This is otherwise expressed 
 as living in agreement with the Gospel preached by the 
 apostle ; but is especially defined as dying and living with 
 Christ. 
 
 The character of St. Paul himself might with great advan- 
 tage be first considered by those who would study Christian 
 Evidences in their true order. It is in defiance of his own 
 express declarations often in effect repeated that he has 
 been described by modern Bbionites as a teacher of ' ' new " 
 doctrines. That which he " delivered" he had, as he 
 declares, ' f received of the Lord." The apostle was ' ' a 
 burning and shining light ; 3J but as he assures us every- 
 where, and with emphasis almost excessive he shines with 
 a reflected light, and spreads round him a fire kindled by a 
 central Sun. Nothing is so often expressed by St. Paul 
 as his sense of dependence on Christ. The image of " a 
 reflected light " is feeble ; the apostle makes his whole mind 
 and s6"ul a clear glass, through which we behold the Sun 
 himself. When the name of St. Paul is repeated, we have 
 in a nucleus a full refutation of Ebionite errors, ancient and 
 modern. No small belief of the kind so named can har- 
 monize with the adoration of his Lord, everywhere expressed 
 or implied in the writings of St. Paul. Their energy and 
 fervour are everywhere traits belonging especially to the 
 author ; but their substantial teaching is accordant with the 
 faith of the Early Church. The importance of this conclu- 
 sion ; the vast array of perverse learning and so-called 
 " logic " that may be set up against it ; the difficulties that 
 must still exist, though evidence on the side of faith is 
 predominant these matters for serious consideration are 
 not neglected when our deliberate conviction is here 
 declared. The faith of St. Paul and of the Church to 
 which he belonged was not Ebionite ; was not a faith that 
 had its source and authority in one who, however wise and 
 good, was only a man. " That eternal life " says St. John 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 487 
 
 f ' that was with the Father, and was manifested unto us, 
 which was from the beginning, which we have seen with our 
 eyes, which we have looked upon, which we have seen and 
 heard, declare we unto you"' and what is the declaration 
 that follows ? One that, so far as a mere style of writing is 
 concerned, differs widely from St. Paul's, but remains in 
 substance identical. And this union of difference and 
 identity is seen in all the literature of the Early Church, 
 including the writings contained in the New Testament, 
 and those of the apostolical fathers. During the time 
 A.D. 58-150 the Church had for the most part a practical 
 tendency, and was not anxious to reconcile with metaphy- 
 sical reasoning the faith delivered to the saints. Accord- 
 ingly it was not largely developed, but was on the whole 
 faithfully maintained. To make this clear, the writings 
 named below should be studied. No endeavour should be 
 made to find here either exact concords, on one side, or 
 on the other such minor discrepancies as may easily be 
 discovered. 
 
 It will be well to consider first the evidences afforded by 
 St. Paul's four epistles, addressed respectively, one to the 
 Eomans, two to the Corinthians, and one to the Galatians. 
 It will not be difficult to show that, as regards especially 
 their Christology, these four epistles agree with the others 
 included in the canon ; also with the Apocalypse, and with 
 the four Gospels.* 
 
 * Here should be noticed as especially original and forcible in 
 their treatment of the evidences afforded by St. Paul's epistles the 
 following two works by the Rev. C. A. Row : 
 
 " The Jesus of the Evangelists : his historical character vindicated ; 
 or an examination of the internal evidence of our Lord's divine mission" 
 (second edition, 1881). 
 
 " Christian Evidences, viewed in relation to modern thought " (the 
 Bampton Lectures for 1877, third edition, 1881). 
 
 A compendious view of early patristic evidence in Christology may 
 be found in the following work, of which an English translation exists : 
 " Die Lehre von der Person Clvristi ;" von J. A. Dorner, 2 vols. 
 1845, etc. 
 
488 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Next should be noticed the evidence afforded by the 
 early patristic writings of Clement (of Rome), Ignatius, 
 Barnabas, Poly carp, Hermas, Papias and Hegisippus. In 
 addition the writings of Justin and Irenseus might also be 
 studied with advantage. 
 
 Early ritualism; records of early martyrdom, and such 
 assaults as were made by Celsus and others against the 
 Church, may also be studied with advantage. 
 
 There remains to be noticed a series of facts attending 
 early persecutions of Christians. The imperial policy of 
 Rome granted toleration to many sects and superstitions. 
 Why then were Christians so fiercely persecuted ? This is 
 a question that may be answered so as to impute gross 
 exaggeration to certain records of persecution ; but careful 
 research may lead us to a different conclusion. First of all 
 should be well understood the character of current Roman 
 notions respecting the faith and the general intention of 
 Christians. These notions were indeed absurd ; but never- 
 theless they were such as now afford clear evidence of the 
 faith then really held by those persecuted. They maintained 
 ihe truth of Christ's divinity and supremacy. That he was 
 Lord of all men and would finally judge the world this 
 they steadfastly believed. Their belief on this point was 
 viewed as having intentionally a secular and political appli- 
 cation. Accordingly Christians were mainly accused of one 
 crime "crimen (lassas) majestatis" that which, in the 
 language of the present day, would be held tantamount to 
 " high treason." There had long existed strict Koman laws 
 for the most part held in abeyance and these laws were 
 now revived, and in their utmost rigour were put in force, 
 in order that the spread of the Christian faith might be 
 stayed. The empire could tolerate the presence of " gods 
 many " and ' ' lords many ;" but could not tolerate the faith 
 maintained by Christians- to speak more strictly, the central 
 tenet of their faith. Among the charges preferred against 
 them were impiety, superstition, unlawful assemblage, and 
 the use of magic. Against the offences so designated laws 
 
CHAPfEE XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 489 
 
 liad been enacted, and still existed; but they were allowed 
 to remain mostly inactive, as in the toleration of many Jews 
 living in the Transtiberine district of Rome, for some fifty 
 years before the Christian Era. Why then were Christians 
 so bitterly persecuted? The true ground of the hatred 
 excited against them, and of their consequent sufferings 
 through persecution, was their faith. They adored Christ 
 as their Lord. This was both seen and felt by the heathen, 
 even where they were not clearly or exactly informed of the 
 truth. Their ready inference was this that men who adored 
 as their Lord one who had suffered crucifixion must be 
 misanthropic and disloyal. The inference was false; the 
 fact that Christ was adored remains true. 
 
 Some few remarks may be added, to indicate the character 
 of those concords of testimony with which the above-named 
 writings abound. As already stated there can hardly be 
 made a better beginning than by a study of St. Paul's 
 own character. He is permeated, inspired and controlled 
 by one divine presence. The power of attraction to which 
 he ascribes his conversion, and the subsequent devotion of 
 his life to Christ, is obviously superhuman. " I live/' he 
 says, "yet not 1, but Christ liveth in me. . . Be ye 
 
 followers of me, even as I also am of Christ I 
 
 beseech you by the meekness and gentleness of Christ. . . . 
 We have the mind of Christ." . . . . ( ' Ye know the 
 grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, 
 yet for our sakes he became poor, that ye through his 
 poverty might be rich." These few texts, copied with but 
 slight care of selection, are given only as fair examples of a 
 numerous series, all tending to one conclusion that the 
 apostle recognized no authority higher than that of Jesus 
 Christ. Instead of giving as evidences a few texts, taken 
 from several epistles, we would refer chiefly to the general 
 tenor of the epistles themselves, or would take as evidences 
 passages each long enough to include several chapters of 
 our English version; for example, 1 Cor. c. 1-5. In the 
 fifth of these consecutive chapters, there may be noticed 
 
490 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 especially tlie fact that tlie writer ascribes to our Lord 
 absolute power and authority, to save or to condemn. This 
 passage is remarkable; still it is but one of many having 
 the same general tenor.* Christ forgives sins. He places 
 himself above the holiest of all preceding teachers and 
 prophets. All power is given unto him. He wages a war- 
 fare, not against this or that particular evil, but with the 
 very principle of evil. Every man must rank himself on 
 the side of Christ or in opposition ; and the doom of every 
 man will depend on his decision in this respect. This is 
 simply the teaching of the New Testament. Everywhere in 
 the canon, as in early patristic writings, the supremacy of 
 one Lord is maintained less directly, as in the epistle of 
 St. James and in some parts of the synoptic gospels, or 
 more directly, as in the fourth gospel and in the epistle to 
 the Colossians; the degrees and modes of declaration are 
 various; but the substance, the truth, is one and the same. 
 There may be found some minor and superficial discrepan- 
 cies, and doubts may be suggested here and there respecting 
 authorship and dates of writing; but the concord that 
 governs the whole of the canonical scriptures is large, deep 
 and strong, 
 
 The Church was not established on philosophy ; but from 
 the first consisted of a union of souls all attracted toward 
 one centre by one divine power. If there is one series of 
 facts left sure in the whole range of history it is that series 
 of which the result was the Church of Christ. At the time 
 of its formation there was developed a power spiritual and 
 real, taking possession of the souls and transforming the 
 
 * There may be given a few references to represent many : Matt. 
 iii. 11; x. 34-42; xi. 11, 27-30; xii. 6, 8, 31-32,41-42; xiii. 38-43; 
 xvi. 16-19 ; xviii. 20 ; xxv. 31, 46 ; xxvi. 13 ; xxviii. 18-20. Mark ii. 5 ; 
 xiii. 10, 31. Luke iii. 16; x. 21-24; xi. 14-28; xii. 8, 9. John vi. 
 41-71 ; xv. 26 ; xvi. 7-15 ; xvii. 20-26. Eomans vi. 1-11 ; viii. 31-39 ; 
 xiv. 6-18. 1 Cor. x. 4-9 ; xv. 22, 45 ; xvi. 22. 2 Cor. v. 10-11, 17-21. 
 Gal. ii. 20; iii. 13-29; iv. 4-7. 1 Peter i. 10-21; ii. 21-25. 1 John 
 i. 1-7. Rev. v. 1-14; vii. 10-17. 
 
CHAPTEB XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 491 
 
 lives of multitudes; and the source of this power was simply 
 love of one Person an adoring and devoted love, expressed 
 in such language as never before had been uttered (Rom. 
 viii. 31-39). The apostle who wrote the passage referred to 
 has in his several epistles established the truth that, at the 
 time of his writing A.D. 58 one common portraiture of 
 their Lord was as it were stereotyped on the hearts of 
 Christians in Jerusalem, Rome, Antioch, Corinth and other 
 places. In some parts his letters are strongly controversial, 
 and show clearly first that personal prejudices against 
 himself existed; secondly that dissensions had arisen 
 respecting the observance of certain rites or institutions. 
 His chief aim everywhere is to show not so much that this 
 observance is erroneous ; but that it is nothing as compared 
 with the love of Christ, which as is constantly taken for 
 granted is known already among all the churches as their 
 one bond of union. These few words summarize the sub- 
 stantial contents, not of a few texts consisting of sentences 
 or short paragraphs, but of a whole series of epistles. 
 St. Paul assumes the fact, that the churches addressed have 
 already a true faith, and then goes on to show that they do 
 not all see clearly enough the comprehensive character of 
 the religion to which their faith should lead them. Their 
 faith is true; but is still encumbered with certain vestiges 
 of Judaism. 
 
 The Church already established at Rome some years 
 before A.D. 58, included Christians who had come from 
 Jerusalem ; and on the ground of this fact it has been said, 
 that Roman Christians had originally no faith larger than 
 that which has been called " Ebionite.^ This, we are told, 
 was opposed to the larger faith of St. Paul. Yet he writes 
 to them (A.D. 58) such words as these : " We shall all 
 stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. For it is written, 
 As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and 
 every tongue shall confess to God. So then every one of us 
 shall give account of himself to God. . . . We being many 
 are one body in Christ." In the year A.D. 64, the Church at 
 
492 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Koine passed through the terrible persecution under Nero, 
 and not only endured it and survived, but soon afterwards 
 was known everywhere as the home and centre of Christian 
 faith, love and concord. And what was the faith still 
 maintained here, about thirty years after the time of 
 St. Paul ? The question is answered by St. Clement, in an 
 epistle of which the date is not later than A.D. 100. It is 
 throughout pervaded by the spirit that animated St. Paul, 
 and is especially remarkable for its gentle and peace-loving 
 tone of exhortation. Christ, says the writer, is our high- 
 priest, who for our salvation has poured out his own blood, 
 who has given his body for our bodies, and his soul for ours. 
 St. Paul speaks of our Lord as a descendant from Israel, 
 " according to the flesh -" exactly so speaks St. Clement, 
 using the word Jacob as synonymous with Israel.* In two 
 forms of doxology the name of Jesus is included (cc. 20, 50). 
 In him, it is said, we have a full revelation and an insight 
 (yvwcris) of divine truth ; we have immortal life, righteous- 
 ness, freedom, faith and confidence all this now ; but eye 
 has not seen, ear has not heard, that which he has prepared 
 for those who remain faithful until the full appearing of 
 his kingdom. Meanwhile he is our helper and leader in 
 all our adversities. He is the brightness, the effulgence 
 (aTravyao-pa) of the divine Majesty, by so much the more 
 exalted above the angels as he has inherited a more glorious 
 name. He is the sceptre-bearerf of God's majesty; yet 
 when he might, without any assumption of a glory not his 
 own, have shone forth in perfect effulgence, he chose rather 
 to appear in the lowliness of self-humiliation (Phil. ii. 5-11). 
 Belief in the pre-existence of Christ is implied (c. 22) where 
 it is said that he spoke, through the Holy Spirit, in the 
 scriptures of the Old Testament. As regards the doctrine 
 of grace, St. Clement, writing about A.D. 100, agrees with 
 St. Paul, writing in A.D. 58. Not by our own wisdom, he 
 says, nor by our pious works, though issuing out of holiness 
 
 * e abrov (ruv 'lafcoi/3) o KVQIOQ 'Irjoovg TO Kara capita. C. 49. 
 in the original. 
 
CHAPTER XIX, CHEISTIAN EVIDENCES. 493 
 
 of heart, are we saved, nor in any way by ourselves ; but by 
 God's gracious will (to save us) in Christ , and through 
 faith. 
 
 The same faith is declared by Ignatius of Antioch, who 
 suffered martyrdom. A.D. 103. He was one whose especial 
 aim was to maintain the unity of the Church, respecting 
 which his views are accordant with the teaching of St. Paul 
 (1 Cor. xii.). Accordingly the divinity and supremacy of 
 Christ are though indirectly still powerfully asserted. The 
 Church, says Ignatius, is a continuation of the life of her 
 Lord, human and divine. His death attracts us into com- 
 munion with himself, and thus is perpetuated its virtue. 
 We are attracted by his death, so that for us it becomes the 
 source of a new life ; and now his love is our love. In these 
 and similar expressions, contentious critics may find apparent 
 grounds for the remark, that the results that St. Paul 
 ascribes to faith are here ascribed to love ; but the criticism 
 has no value. The aim of Ignatius is practical ; his desire 
 is that the Church should everywhere reflect faithfully the 
 character of her Head, and his exhortations imply a faith 
 that unites him with the apostles St. John and St. Paul. 
 Here as elsewhere, in early patristic writings, one faith 
 respecting the supremacy of Christ is maintained; some- 
 times by direct assertion, otherwise as implied in practical 
 admonitions, and thirdly as defended by argument. In fine 
 music passing discords are tolerated, because they are over- 
 ruled by a predominant concord. Men may be loyal at 
 heart, though they do not always define precisely alike the 
 prerogatives of the sovereign whom they obey. So in the 
 records of the Early Church, one faith is ever present, even 
 when it is not directly expressed. 
 
 The teaching of Barnabas is especially Pauline, in the 
 assertion of Christian freedom as regards the institutions of 
 Judaism; and the source of this freedom, we are told, is 
 found in Christ's sacrifice of himself. By that one full and 
 perfect sacrifice all others are abolished. The New Covenant 
 was foreshadowed in the Old, which now has passed away. 
 
494 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The temple of the Jews is destroyed, and we, in whose 
 hearts he dwells, are now the temple of the Lord. He, the 
 Son of God and Judge of both the living and the dead, 
 could suffer on no other account than for our sakes, in order 
 that by his wounds we might be healed. He is the Lord to 
 whom in the beginning God said, ' ' let us make man in our 
 likeness." From him the prophets derived their inspiration. 
 If he had not appeared incarnate, how could we unconsumed 
 have looked upon him, since we cannot view even the sun, 
 which is his creature, in its full splendour ? He has sacri- 
 ficed for us his own life, that we may have forgiveness of 
 sins and, being sprinkled with his blood, may be sanctified. 
 
 These may suffice as examples of the concords found in 
 early patristic writings ; and would space permit, it would 
 be easy to go on and show how the same faith that was 
 asserted by Poly carp (A.D. 120) was represented by the 
 "aged man" who conversed with Justin (before A.D. 150) ; 
 the same faith that was still (in A.D. 180) maintained by 
 Irenaeus and, as he tells us, in the several churches (or 
 congregations of believers) then existing. There remain 
 to be noticed briefly concords of testimony still more signi- 
 ficant. Those already named relate to one central tenet 
 Christ's supremacy but these next to be considered are 
 concordant traits in one portraiture of our Lord. In the 
 three gospels called Synoptic, and in the fourth (which 
 Tubingen critics set apart as belonging to a later time), in 
 the four epistles of St. Paul, dated not after A.D. 60, and in 
 the other epistles, in the Apocalypse, written about A.D. 70, 
 in St. Clement's " Epistle to the Corinthians," and in other 
 patristic writings earlier than A.D. 150 in all these are 
 found the self-same traits of one commanding, self-evidential 
 portraiture, that' still retains its brightness, beauty and 
 majesty, after the lapse of more than eighteen hundred 
 years. 
 
 "It was reserved," says a modern historian, "for 
 Christianity to present to the world an ideal character, 
 which, through all the changes of eighteen centuries, hag 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 495 
 
 filled the hearts of men with an impassioned love, and has 
 shown itself capable of acting on all ages, nations, tem- 
 perament?, and conditions ; has not only been the highest 
 pattern of virtue, but the highest incentive to its practice, 
 and has exerfced so deep an influence that it may be truly 
 said that the simple record of three short years of active 
 life has done more to regenerate and to soften mankind 
 than all the disquisitions of philosophers, and than all the 
 exhortations of moralists. This has indeed been the well- 
 spring of whatever has been best and purest in the Christian 
 life/** 
 
 By whom was the portraiture here called " ideal" pro- 
 duced ? By any one man t Then where and when lived 
 the mighty poet (and far more than a poet) who could 
 create such an ideal*? Or was it produced by several 
 contemporaneous authors ? How miraculous their concord ! 
 Or by several living in various times and places ? Their 
 concord must be still more marvellous. But whence came 
 the influence that led multitudes to accept the description 
 as historically true ? The word portraiture has been used 
 as familiar and to some degree useful; but it is a feeble 
 word, and hardly serves to indicate the truth. There was 
 recognized in the Christian Churches of St. Paul's time, 
 and afterwards, the virtual presence of one living Lord, by 
 whose Spirit every doctrine might be judged, to whose life 
 every precept had reference. For proof, were it required, 
 the whole series of the epistles included in the canon of the 
 New Testament might be cited. Those addressed to the 
 Ephesians and the Colossians may be especially named ; but 
 only because the truth expressed everywhere is often repeated 
 here with a remarkable energy. It is taken for granted, 
 that one presence pervades every congregation of Christians, 
 and there needs be mentioned only one name to remind 
 them all of their common faith and their practical duties. 
 A word is enough to call to mind all the traits of a portraiture 
 
 * W. H. Lecky. " History of Morality from Augustus to Charle- 
 magne," (1869) vol. ii. p, 8, 
 
496 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 that is engraved on every heart. Thus in one place that 
 name serves instead of a summary of doctrine : " Kemember 
 them which have the rule over you, who have spoken to you 
 the word of God ; whose faith follow, considering the end 
 of their conversation : Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, 
 and to day, and for ever." 
 
 The strong and clear traits of the portraiture existing, 
 and well known in all Christian Churches in the days of the 
 apostles, have not faded in the lapse of time ; but on the 
 contrary have lately been studied with especial attention. 
 We have thus been led to consider more deeply the ethical 
 teaching of Christ ; for example the sins that he especially 
 denounced pride and covetousness. Are not these the 
 sins that have produced a very large share of all the world's 
 misery ? On the other side are seen the virtues on which 
 he pronounced his blessings lowliness, voluntary poverty, 
 self-sacrifice, and beneficence like his own. They are 
 impracticable, we are told ; but who has made them imprac- 
 ticable ? And what are the results of our worldly wisdom, as 
 opposed to his teaching ? What have we to boast of, now 
 that we have gained the whole world ? Is it peace ? What 
 is there to be gained practically by the abolition of our 
 faith ? On the other hand, might not the world be made, 
 comparatively speaking, a Paradise, if our lives could first 
 be made accordant to our faith ? 
 
 Of all conceivable errors the greatest is our modern error 
 especially German which would ascribe to philosophy 
 the origin of our Christian faith. Its true source is found 
 in love in that superhuman and personal attraction by 
 which St. Paul was overcome, melted down, and transmuted 
 in heart and life. In his case the fact is well known as a 
 marvellous instance of conversion. His fervid eloquence 
 has made it known throughout the whole world. But there 
 lived multitudes of converts in his day; men whose faith 
 and devotion, as deep and sincere as his own, were inspired 
 by the presence of Christ himself; men whose lowly 
 character is suggested by such energetic words as these : 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 497 
 
 "Things which are despised hath God chosen, yea and 
 things which are not, to bring to nought things that are." 
 The Church was a union of souls, all attracted by one divine 
 love to one centre. If we seek for some illustration of that 
 power of attraction and cohesion, it will be found in the 
 force of gravitation rather than in the dead thoughts of " vain 
 philosophy." That power was ethical, not intellectual. 
 
 The controversy of which some account has been given 
 itself bears witness to the truth. What were Lessing's 
 questions, which have often been named (pp. 3-4, 9, etc.) ? 
 In substance this : How can we reject as false a faith of 
 which the ethical character is evidently divine ? Let the 
 moral claims of this faith be considered, especially in those 
 moments when our mind and soul are not buried in sen- 
 sualism, but expanded and purified ; in times of affliction ; 
 or during recovery from dangerous illness, in moments 
 when we watch beside the death -bed of a friend, or follow 
 his remains to the grave; or in times of public disorder, 
 when the chaotic elements of human nature are disclosed ; 
 or when we are called upon to exert our highest moral 
 courage ; or lastly at the time when we know that our own 
 death is near these are the hours when the soul is best 
 prepared to estimate the value of Christian faith. How is 
 it that at these times the words are most welcome : " Come 
 unto me .... and I will give you rest." 
 
 Christianity did not begin in any philosophy, or in any 
 conjunction of philosophies. So grossly overrated have 
 been the various systems of notions so-called, that one may 
 well wish to avoid the use of any words reminding us of 
 their vain pretensions. Yet it must not be supposed for a 
 moment, that the profound yet clear and practical teaching 
 of our Lord has not a corresponding intellectual represen- 
 tation. He loves the presence of children, and lowly 
 disciples whose faith is childlike; and he mostly speaks 
 so that they may understand ; but there pervades all his 
 ethical teaching a unity of which the source is an insight 
 
 32 
 
498 GERMAN CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 clear as the noonday sun. We may draw a number of 
 circles, each having its own centre ; and then we may place 
 them so that the general effect shall present the image of a 
 star every ray darting forth from one bright centre. So 
 in the teaching of Christ, all the distinct precepts flow from 
 one principle ; and the contrasts we observe such as may 
 be hastily called discords, or even contradictions when 
 deeply studied, will be understood as so many essential 
 parts of one organism. "Suffer little children to come 
 unto me," is a beautiful invitation. On the other side, 
 there is severity in the words often repeated in one form 
 or another " If any man come to me and hate not his own 
 life, he cannot be my disciple ;" yet the kind invitation and 
 the solemn admonition are both expressions of one profound 
 love, and both are perfectly accordant with the whole tenor 
 of Christ's teaching respecting his own work in the world. 
 He has to gain a victory, not over this or that special vice, 
 but over evil itself, as he declares in a passage deserving 
 our most careful consideration (Luke xi. 14-28). If the 
 teaching given in that passage is well understood, the 
 conclusion will appear as a true result; as a consequence 
 that is inevitable : " He that is not with me is against me." 
 Just as the three apostles James, John, and Paul have 
 been set asunder by the error of a mechanical intellect, so 
 one divine saying of their Lord has been set against another. 
 But a deep harmony governs all the tones that blend in the 
 divine and human character of Christ, and in his teaching. 
 We have to contemplate not alone his spotless holiness, but 
 also his self-sacrificing love, if we would see the force of 
 that principal evidence on which the faith of the Church 
 is founded. Modern criticism professes to find errors in 
 the early records of the faith, and to invalidate some parts of 
 the evidence supplied by historical writings belonging to the 
 first two centuries. But there remains to be accounted for 
 the origin of the faith itself. If we reject the testimony of 
 
CHAPTER XIX. CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES. 
 
 499 
 
 the Early Church, we find ourselves in presence of a problem 
 of which solution is impossible. The self -evidential presence 
 of our Lord was the life and strength of his Church in her 
 earliest time, when no word of any literary evidence existed ; 
 and now, after the lapse of eighteen centuries, the evidence 
 that can win back the world to faith must be a manifestation 
 of that very same power by which the Church was created. 
 
 *^P5% 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 QUOTED OE EEFEEEED TO. 
 
 Ammon, C. F. v., 164 
 
 Annet, P., 28 
 
 Anselm, St., 153 
 
 Aristotle, 427. 
 
 Arndt, E. M., 356 
 
 Baader, F. von, 437 
 
 Bahrdt, K. F., 7, 52-55 
 
 Barnabas, 493 
 
 Basedow, J. B., 58 
 
 Baumgarten, M., 45 
 
 Baur, F. C., 66, 231-236, 413, 429, 
 
 446-477 
 
 Bensen, 238, 239 
 Benson, George, 61 
 Bentham, Jeremy, 196 ; 244 
 Bereridge, Bishop, 62 
 Biedermann, A. E., 475 
 Bohme, Jacob, 390, 391, 393-395 
 Bolingbroke, Lord, 30 
 Borne, L., 360 
 Brimley, George, 218 
 Butler, Bishop, 32, 175 
 Calixt, G., 17 
 Campe, J. H., 58 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 194, 195-224, 371 
 Chamisso, A. von, 359 
 Chubb, Thomas, 28, 61 
 Cicero, M. T., 369 
 Claudius, M., 133-136, 143 
 Clement of Home, 479, 482, 492 
 Coleridge, S. T., 97, 371-373, 402 
 Collins, Anthony, 26, 27 
 
 Comte, Auguste, 196 
 
 Condillac, 41 
 
 Daub, K., 103 
 
 Diderot, D., 41 
 
 Dodwell, Henry, junior, 60, 61 
 
 Dorner, J. A., 11, 62, 395, 487 
 
 Eberhard, J. A., 57 
 
 Ernesti, H. F. T., 36, 45 
 
 Falk, J. D., 75, 302, 310 
 
 Feuerbach, L., 457 
 
 Fictye, J. G., 144, 177-194, 225, 
 
 228, 465 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, 100 
 Garve, Christian, 56 
 Gellert, 366 
 Gelzer, 287 
 
 Goethe, 59, 130, 250, 267-317 
 Goetze, J. Melchior, 64, 65 
 Hall, Eobert, 184 
 Hamann, J. G., 91, 120-123 
 Hardenberg, Fr. von, 350 
 Hartmann, Ed. von, 12, 432, 475 
 Helvetius, 44, 245 
 Hegel, G. W. F., 3, 171, 172, 215, 
 
 229-231, 242, 246, 397-429 
 Hegesippus, 479 
 Heine, Heinrich, 360, 361-364 
 Henke, E. L., 103 
 Herder, J. G., 88-113 
 Hesiod, 409 
 Hettner, 76 
 Hilgenfeld, A., 473 
 
502 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Hobbes, Thomas, 13 
 
 Holbach, 42 
 
 Hontheim, J. N. (" Febronius "), 
 
 248 
 
 Hume, David, 31, 148, 179 
 Hutton, E. H., 217, 220 
 Ignatius of Antioch, 493 
 " Illuminati," 248 
 Irving, Edward, 197 
 Jacobi, F. H., 76, 81, 114-146 
 Jean Paul see Eicliter 
 Jerusalem, J. F. W., 46 
 Jung-Stilling, J. H., 132, 133 
 Justin Martyr, 480 
 Kant, Immanuel, 25, 33, 139, 147- 
 
 176, 179, 228, 241, 368, 373-378 
 Kepler, 370 
 Kerner, J., 358 
 Klinger, 250 
 
 Klopstock, F. G., 248, 250, 253-260 
 Knebel, K. L. von, 267 
 La Mettrie, 42, 58 
 Lavater, J. C., 123, 125-131 
 Law, William, 23 
 Lecky, W. H., 495 
 Leibnitz, 26 
 Lenau, 358 
 
 Lessing, 3, 5, 9, 52, 64-87 
 Lilienthal, T. E., 162 
 Lipsius, E. C., 475 
 Locke, John, 29 
 M'Cosh, J., 164 
 Hansel, H. L., 164 
 Marheinecke, Ph., 103 
 Maurice, F. D., 164 
 Meinigen, 36 
 
 Mendelssohn, Moses, 56, 81 
 Michaelis, J. D., 45, 102 
 Mignet, F. A., 336 
 Morgan, Thomas, 28 
 Moser, 77 
 Mosheim, L., 45 
 Nicolai, C. F., 56, 90, 115 
 IS" orris, J., 24 
 
 Novalis see Hardenberg 
 
 Oetinger, F. C., 186 
 
 Paine, Thomas, 28 
 
 Paul, St., 234-236, 450, 460-462, 
 
 479, 481-491 
 Paulus, H. G., 103, 354 
 Pfaff, F., 36 
 Pfleiderer, O., 395, 427, 432, 448, 
 
 475 
 
 Pope, Alexander, 30, 31, 251 
 Eeimarus, H. S., 10, 46, 64 
 Eenan, E., 459 
 Eichter, J.P., 354, 355 
 Eobespierre, 2, 14 
 Eousseau, J. J., 150 
 Eow, C. A., 487 
 Eiickert, F., 356 
 Sack, K. H., 45 
 Sailer, Bishop, 123, 145, 146 
 Saint-Martin (" Le Philosophe 
 
 inconnu "), 337 
 Schefer, Leopold, 364 
 Schelling, 229, 242, 397-429, 449 
 Schenkendorf, 356 
 Schiller, 167, 276, 318-346 
 Schlegel, A. W. von, 349 
 Schlegel, Friedrich von, 350 
 Schleiermacher, F., 229, 231, 429, 
 
 430-445, 448 
 
 Schopenhauer, Arthur, 435-437 
 Seiler, G. F., 103 
 Semler, J. S., 2, 44, 48-52, 235 
 Shaftesbury, Earl of, 29 
 Shelley, P. B., 196 
 Simon, Jules, 20-22 
 Skelton, Philip, 35 
 Sophocles, 215, 422 
 Spalding, J. J., 45, 98 
 Spener, P., 44 
 Steffens, H., 303, 380-390 
 Stolberg, L. von, 124-126, 307 
 Stolberg, Augusta von, 307 
 Strauss, J. D., 10, 65, 231-238, 413, 
 
 433, 446-477 
 
INDEX. 
 
 503 
 
 Tauler, Johann, 391-393 
 
 Teller, W. A., 103 
 
 Tholuck, F. A., 411 
 
 Tieck, L., 352-354 
 
 Tindal, Matthew, 28 
 
 Toland, J., 13, 24, 25, 26 
 
 Twesten, A. D. C., 1-J 
 
 Uhland, L., 357 
 
 "United Brethren," 2, 44 
 
 Vischer, Fr., 325 
 
 Voltaire, 41 
 
 Voss, J. H., 125 
 
 Walther v. d. Vogelweide, 366 
 
 Warburton, Bishop, 31 
 
 Weishaupt, A., 248 
 
 Wesley, John and Charles, 41 
 
 Wessenberg, Ignaz, 330 
 
 Whiston W., 27 
 
 Wieland, C. M., 249, 252, 260-266 
 
 " WolfenbiiUel Fragments," 65, 67 
 
 Woolston, Th., 27, 28 
 
 Wordsworth, W., 136, 155, 196, 
 
 251, 380, 402 
 Zedlitz, 53 
 
 Zinzendorf, Graf N. L., 44 
 Zollikofer, 109 
 Zopf-Schultz, 52, 54 
 
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