{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_43544/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_43544","id":"gutenberg_43544","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43544","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Language & Communication","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Language and languages -- Philosophy","Life","Philosophy"],"text":"Produced by Adam Buchbinder, Chuck Greif and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nbook was produced from scanned images of public domain\nmaterial from the Google Print project.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed. Some\n typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text. No\n  attempt has been made to correct the German spelling. The footnotes\n                            follow the text.\n                       (etext transcriber\u2019s note)\n\n\n\n\n\n                                  THE\n                          PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE,\n                                  AND\n                        PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE,\n                                  IN A\n                         _Course of Lectures_.\n\n                       BY FREDERICK VON SCHLEGEL.\n\n                       TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN\n\n                  BY THE REV. A. J. W. MORRISON, M.A.\n\n                               NEW YORK:\n                     HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,\n                            82 CLIFF STREET.\n                                 1848.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n  PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE.\n\n  LECTURE I.                                                        Page\n  Of the thinking Soul as the Center of Consciousness, and of the false\n  Procedure of Reason                                                  7\n\n  LECTURE II.\n  Of the loving Soul as the Center of the moral Life; and of Marriage 28\n\n  LECTURE III.\n  Of the Soul\u2019s Share in Knowledge, and of Revelation                 48\n\n  LECTURE IV.\n  Of the Soul in relation to Nature                                   70\n\n  LECTURE V.\n  Of the Soul of Man in relation to God                               95\n\n  LECTURE VI.\n  Of the Wisdom of the divine Order of Things in Nature, and of the\n  Relation of Nature to the other Life and to the Invisible World    115\n\n  LECTURE VII.\n  Of the divine Wisdom as manifested in the Realm of Truth, and of\n  the Conflict of the Age with Error                                 141\n\n  LECTURE VIII.\n  Of the divine Order in the History of the World and the Relation of\n  States                                                             162\n\n  LECTURE IX.\n  Of the true Destination of Philosophy: and of the apparent Schism\n  but essential Unity between a right Faith and highest Certainty, as\n  the Center of Light and Life in the Consciousness                  185\n\n  LECTURE X.\n  Of the twofold Spirit of Truth and Error in Science; of the Conflict\n  of Faith with Infidelity                                           206\n\n  LECTURE XI.\n  Of the Relation of Truth and Science to Life, and of Mind in its application\n  to Reality                                                         232\n\n  LECTURE XII.\n  Of the symbolical Nature and Constitution of Life with reference to\n  Art and the moral Relations of Man                                 256\n\n  LECTURE XIII.\n  Of the Spirit of Truth and Life in its application to Politics, or of the\n  Christian Constitution of the State and the Christian Idea of Jurisprudence\n                                                                     277\n\n  LECTURE XIV.\n  Of the Division of Ranks, and of the reciprocal Relations of States,\n  according to the Christian Idea. Of Science as a Power; of its Constitution,\n  and of the right Regulation of it                                  301\n\n  LECTURE XV.\n  Of the true Idea of a Theocracy; of the Might of Science, and of the\n  final Restoration and Perfection of the human Consciousness        320\n\n\n  PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE.\n\n  Preface of the German Editor                                       341\n\n  LECTURE I.                                                         343\n\n  LECTURE II.                                                        364\n\n  LECTURE III.                                                       382\n\n  LECTURE IV.                                                        402\n\n  LECTURE V.                                                         424\n\n  LECTURE VI.                                                        444\n\n  LECTURE VII.                                                       469\n\n  LECTURE VIII.                                                      493\n\n  LECTURE IX.                                                        514\n\n  LECTURE X.                                                         537\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThese fifteen Lectures on the Philosophy of Life are intended to give,\nas far as possible, a full and clear exposition of the most interesting\ntopics that can engage human attention. In the opening they treat of the\nsoul, first of all as forming the center of consciousness, and,\nsecondly, of its co-operation with mind or spirit in science, that is,\nthe acquisition of a right knowledge of man and nature, and of their\nseveral relations to the Deity. These matters occupy five Lectures of\nthe whole series. The next three treat of the laws of divine wisdom and\nprovidence, as discernible in outward nature, in the world of thought,\nand in the history of mankind. The last seven contain an attempt to\ntrace the development of man\u2019s mind or spirit, both within himself and\nin science and public life. Tracing its gradual expansion, as unfolded\neither by the legitimate pursuit of a restoration to original\nexcellence, or by the struggle with the opposing spirit of the times,\nthey follow the human race through its progressive gradations, up to the\nclosing term of perfection.\n\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHY OF LIFE.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE I.\n\nOF THE THINKING SOUL AS THE CENTER OF CONSCIOUSNESS, AND OF THE FALSE\nPROCEDURE OF REASON.\n\n\n\u201cThere are,\u201d says a poet as ingenious as profound,[1] \u201cmore things in\nheaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy.\u201d This sentiment,\nwhich Genius accidentally let drop, is in the main applicable also to\nthe philosophy of our own day; and, with a slight modification, I shall\nbe ready to adopt it as my own. The only change that is requisite to\nmake it available for my purpose would be the addition--\u201cand also\nbetween heaven and earth are there many things which are not dreamt of\nin our philosophy.\u201d And exactly because philosophy, for the most part,\ndoes nothing but dream--scientifically dream, it may be--therefore is it\nignorant, ay, has no inkling even of much which, nevertheless, in all\npropriety it ought to know. It loses sight of its true object, it quits\nthe firm ground where, standing secure, it might pursue its own\navocations without let or hinderance, whenever, abandoning its own\nproper region, it either soars up to heaven to weave there its fine-spun\nwebs of dialectics, and to build its metaphysical castles in the air, or\nelse, losing itself on the earth, it violently interferes with external\nreality, and determines to shape the world according to its own fancy,\nand to reform it at will. Half way between these two devious courses\nlies the true road; and the proper region of philosophy is even that\nspiritual inner life between heaven and earth.\n\nOn both sides, many and manifold errors were committed even in the\nearlier and better days of enlightened antiquity. Plato himself, the\ngreatest of the great thinkers of Greece, set up in his Republic the\nmodel of an ideal polity, which, in this respect, can not bear the test\nof examination. His design indeed finds, in some measure, its apology in\nthe disorders and corruption which, even in his day, had infected all\nthe free states of Greece, whether great or small. His work, too, by the\nhighly-finished style of the whole, the vivid perspicuity of its\nnarrative, its rich profusion of pregnant ideas and noble sentiments,\nstands out in dignified contrast to the crude and ill-digested schemes\nof legislation so hastily propounded in our own day. Still, it will ever\nremain the weak point of this great man. One needs not to be a Plato to\nsee how absolutely unfeasible, not to say practically absurd, are many\nof the propositions of this Platonic ideal. Accordingly, it has ever\nbeen the fruitful occasion, not only among cotemporaries, but also with\nposterity, of ridicule to the ignorant and of censure to the wise. In\nthis respect it can not but excite our regret that such great and noble\npowers of mind should have been wasted in following a false direction,\nand in pursuit of an unattainable end. The oldest philosophers of\nGreece, on the other hand--those first bold adventurers on the wide\nocean of thought--combined together the elements of things, water, or\nair, or fire, or atoms, or, lastly, the all-ruling intellect[2] itself,\ninto as many different systems of the universe. If, however, each in his\nown way thus set forth a peculiar creed of nature, we must ever bear in\nmind that the popular religion, with its poetical imagery, and the\nfabulous mythology of antiquity, as affording not only no sufficient,\nbut absolutely no answer to the inquiring mind, as to the essence of\nthings, and the first cause of all, could not possibly satisfy these\nearlier thinkers. Consequently, they might well feel tempted to find,\neach for himself, a way to honor nature, and to contemplate the supreme\nBeing. Since then, however, the world has grown older by nearly\ntwenty-five centuries, and much, in the mean while, has been\naccomplished by, or fallen to the share of, the human race. But when\nphilosophy would pretend to regard this long succession of ages, and all\nits fruits, as suddenly erased from the records of existence, and for\nthe sake of change would start afresh, so perilous an experiment can\nscarcely lead to any good result, but in all probability, and to judge\nfrom past experience, will only give rise to numberless and interminable\ndisputes. Such an open space in thought--cleared from all the traces of\nan earlier existence (a smoothly-polished marble tablet, as it were,\nlike the _tabula rasa_ of a recent ephemeral philosophy)--would only\nserve as an arena for the useless though daring ventures of unprofitable\nspeculation, and could never form a safe basis for solid thought, or for\nany permanent manifestation of intellectual life.\n\nIn itself it is nothing surprising if young and inexperienced minds,\noccupying themselves prematurely, or in a perverted sense, with the\ngrand ideas of God and Nature, liberty and the march of thought, should\nbe wholly overmastered and carried away with them. It has often happened\nbefore now, and it is no new thing if youthful and ardent temperaments\nshould either yield to the seductive temptation to make, not to say\ncreate, a new religion of their own; or else feel a deceitful impulse to\ncensure and to change all that is already in existence, and, if\npossible, to reform the whole world by their newly-acquired ideas.\n\nThat this twofold aberration and misuse of philosophical thought must\nprove universally injurious, and prejudicial both to education and the\nwhole world, is so evident that it can scarcely be necessary to dwell\nupon it. Its effect has been to cause men, especially those whose minds\nhave been formed in the great and comprehensive duties of practical\nlife, to view the thing altogether in an evil light, although it must be\nconfessed there is much injustice in this sweeping condemnation. In\nseveral of the great statesmen of Rome we may observe a similar contempt\nfor Grecian philosophy as useless and unprofitable. And yet, as is\nhappily indicated by its Greek name, this whole effort was assuredly\nbased upon a noble conception, and, when duly regulated, a salutary\nprinciple. For in this beautiful word, according to its original\nacceptation, science is not regarded as already finished and mature, but\nis rather set forth as an object of search--of a noble curiosity and of\na pure enthusiasm for great and sublime truths, while at the same time\nit implies the wise use of such knowledge. Merely, however, to check and\nto hinder the aberrations of a false philosophy, is not by itself\nsufficient. It is only by laying down and leveling the right road of a\nphilosophy of life, that a thorough remedy for the evil is to be found.\nTrue philosophy, therefore, honoring that which has been given from\nabove and that which is existent from without, must neither raise itself\nin hostility to the one, nor attempt to interfere violently with the\nother. For it is exactly when, keeping modestly within its proper limits\nof the inner spiritual life, it makes itself the handmaid neither of\ntheology nor of politics, that it best asserts its true dignity and\nmaintains its independence on its own peculiar domain. And thus, even\nwhile it abstains most scrupulously from intermeddling with the positive\nand actual, will it operate most powerfully on alien and remote branches\nof inquiry, and by teaching them to consider objects in a freer and more\ngeneral light, indirectly it will exercise on them a salutary influence.\nThus, while it proceeds along its appointed path, it will, as it were\nwithout effort, disperse many a mist which spreads its dangerous\ndelusion over the whole of human existence, or remove, perhaps, many a\nstone of stumbling, which offends the age and divides the minds of men\nin strife and discord. In this manner, consequently, will it most\nbeautifully attest its healing virtue, and at the same time best fulfill\nits proper destination.\n\nThe object, therefore, of philosophy is the inner mental life (_geistige\nLeben_), not merely this or that individual faculty in any partial\ndirection, but man\u2019s spiritual life with all its rich and manifold\nenergies. With respect to form and method: the philosophy of life sets\nout from a single assumption--that of life, or, in other words, of a\nconsciousness to a certain degree awakened and manifoldly developed by\nexperience--since it has for its object, and purposes to make known the\nentire consciousness, and not merely a single phase of it. Now, such an\nend would be hindered rather than promoted by a highly elaborate or\nminutely exhaustive form, and a painfully artificial method; and it is\nherein that the difference lies between a philosophy of life and the\nphilosophy of the school. If philosophy be regarded merely as one part\nof a general scientific education, then is the instruction in method\n(whether under the old traditionary name of Logic or any other) the\nchief point to be regarded. For such a mere elementary course, passing\nover, or at least postponing for a while the consideration of the\nmatter, as possessing as yet but a very remote interest for the student,\nand, in the default of an adequate internal experience of his own,\nincapable of being understood by him, concerns itself rather with the\npractice of methodical thought, both as necessary for the future, and as\napplicable to all matters. But the preliminary exercise in philosophical\nthinking is only the introduction to philosophy, and not philosophy\nitself. This school-teaching of philosophy might, perhaps, be rendered\nproductive of the most excellent consequences, if only it were directed\nto the history of the human intellect. What could be more interesting\nthan a history which should enter into the spirit, and distinctly embody\nthe various systems which the inventive subtilety of the Greeks gave\nbirth to, or which, taking a still wider range, should embrace the\nscience of the Egyptians, and some Asiatic nations, and illustrate the\nno less wonderful nor less manifold systems of the Hindoos--those Greeks\nof the primeval world? But this, perhaps, would be to encroach upon the\npeculiar domain of erudition, and might, moreover, fail to furnish equal\ninterest for all; and, at any rate, the history of philosophy is not\nphilosophy itself.\n\nNow, the distinction between the philosophy of life and the philosophy\nof the school will appear in very different lights, according to the\npeculiarity of view which predominates in the several philosophical\nsystems. That species of philosophy which revolves in the dialectical\norbit of abstract ideas, according to its peculiar character,\npresupposes and requires a well-practiced talent of abstraction,\nperpetually ascending through higher grades to the very highest, and\neven then boldly venturing a step beyond. In short, as may be easily\nshown in the instance of modern German science, the being unintelligible\nis set up as a kind of essential characteristic of a true and truly\nscientific philosophy. I, for my part, must confess that I feel a great\ndistrust of that philosophy which dwells in inaccessible light, where\nthe inventor indeed asserts of himself, that he finds himself in an\nunattainable certainty and clearness of insight, giving us all the while\nto understand thereby that he does see well enough how, of all other\nmortals, scarcely any, or, perhaps, strictly speaking, no one,\nunderstands or is capable of understanding him. In all such cases it is\nonly the false light of some internal _ignis fatuus_ that produces this\nillusion of the unintelligible, or, rather, of nonsense. In this pursuit\nof wholly abstract and unintelligible thought, the philosophy of the\nschool is naturally enough esteemed above every other, and regarded as\npre-eminently the true science--_i.e._, the unintelligible.\n\nIn such a system a philosophy of life means nothing more than a kind of\ntranslation of its abstruser mysteries into a more popular form, and an\nadaptation of them to the capacity of ordinary minds. But even such\npopular adaptations, though evincing no common powers of language and\nillustration, in spite of their apparent clearness, when closer\nexamined, are found as unintelligible as the recondite originals. For,\ninasmuch as the subject-matter of these abstract speculations was, from\nthe very first, confused and unintelligible, it was consequently\nincapable of being made clear even by the most perspicuous of styles.\nBut the true living philosophy has no relation or sympathy with this\ncontinuous advance up to the unintelligible heights of empty\nabstraction. Since the objects it treats of are none other than those\nwhich every man of a cultivated mind, and, in any degree accustomed to\nobserve his own consciousness, both has and recognizes within himself,\nthere is nothing to prevent its exposition being throughout clear, easy,\nand forcible. Here the relation is reversed. In such a system the\nphilosophy of life is the chief and paramount object of interest; while\nthe philosophy of the school, or the scientific teaching of it in the\nschools, however necessary and valuable in its place, is still, as\ncompared with the whole thing itself, only secondary and subordinate. In\nthe philosophy of life, moreover, the method adopted must also be a\nliving one. Consequently it is not, by any means, a thing to be\nneglected. But still it need not to be applied with equal rigor\nthroughout, or to appear prominently in every part, but, on all\noccasions, must be governed in these respects by what the particular end\nin view may demand.\n\nA few illustrations, drawn from daily experience, will, perhaps, serve\nto explain my meaning. Generally speaking, the most important arts and\npursuits of life are ultimately based on mathematics. This science\nfurnishes them, as it were, with the method they observe; but it is not\npracticable, nor, indeed, has man the leisure, to revert on every\noccasion, with methodical exactness, to these elements, but, assuming\nthe principles to be well known and admitted, he attends rather to the\nresults essential to the end he has in view. The economical management\nof the smallest as well as of the largest household, rests, in the end,\non the elementary principles of arithmetic; but what would come of it\nif, on every occasion, we were to go back to the simple \u201cone-times-one\u201d\nof the multiplication table, and reflected upon and sought for the\nproofs that the principle is really valid and can confidently be relied\non in practice? In the same way the art of war is founded on geometry;\nbut when the general arranges his troops for battle, does he consult his\nEuclid to satisfy himself of the correctness and advantages of his\nposition? Lastly, when the astronomer, whose vocation is pre-eminently\ndependent on accurate calculation, when he would make us acquainted with\nthe phenomena of the sidereal heavens, confines himself almost entirely\nto them, without wearying those whom he wishes to interest, with the\ncomplicated reckonings which, however, in all probability, he was\nobliged himself to go through. With all these arts and pursuits of\npractical life, the intellectual business of thinking--of such thinking\nat least as is common to most men--and of communicating thought, has a\nsort of affinity and resemblance. For, unquestionably, it is one among\nthe many problems of philosophy to establish a wise economy and prudent\nstewardship of that ever-shifting mass of incoming and outgoing thoughts\nwhich make up our intellectual estate and property. And this is the more\nnecessary the greater are the treasures of thought possessed by our age.\nFor, in the highly rapid interchange of and traffic in ideas, which is\ncarrying on, the receipts and disbursements are not always duly\nbalanced. There is much cause, therefore, to fear lest a thoughtless and\nlavish dissipation of the noblest mental endowments should become\nprevalent, or a false and baseless credit-system in thought spring up\namid an absolute deficiency of a solid and permanent capital safely\ninvested in fundamental ideas and lasting truths. As for the second\nsimile: I should, by all means, wish to gain a victory, not indeed for\nyou, but with you, over some of the many errors and many semblances of\nthought, which are, however, but cheats and counterfeits which distract\nthe minds of the present generation, disturb the harmony of life, and\nbanish peace even from the intellectual world. And as respects the third\nillustration: I should indeed rejoice as having, in a great measure,\nattained my object, if only I shall succeed in directing your attention\nto some star in the higher region of intellect, which hitherto was\neither totally unknown, or, at least, never before fully observed.\n\nBut above all, I think it necessary to observe further, that in the same\nway as philosophy loses sight of its true object and appropriate matter,\nwhen either it passes into and merges in theology, or meddles with\nexternal politics, so also does it mar its proper form when it attempts\nto mimic the rigorous method of mathematics. In the middle of the last\ncentury scarcely was there to be found a German manual for any of the\nsciences that did not ape the mathematical style, and where every single\nposition in the long array of interminable paragraphs did not conclude\nwith the solemn act of demonstrative phraseology. But it is also well\nknown that the philosophy which was propounded in this inappropriate\nform and method was crammed full of, nay, rather, was hardly any thing\nmore than a tissue of arbitrary, now forgotten, hypotheses, which have\nnot brought the world at all nearer to the truth--not at least to that\ntruth which philosophy is in search of, and which is something higher\nthan a mere example of accurate computation.\n\nAnd even in the present day--although, indeed, the application is made\nin a very different way from formerly--German philosophy is any thing\nbut free from those algebraic formularies, in which all things, even the\nmost opposite, admit of being comprised and blended together. But, be it\nas it may, this elaborate structure of mechanical demonstration can\nnever produce a true, intrinsic, and full conviction. The method which\nphilosophy really requires is quite different, being absolutely internal\nand intellectual (_geistige_). As in a correct architectural structure\nit is necessary that all its parts should be in unison, and such as the\neye can take in easily and agreeably, so in every philosophical\ncommunication, the solid simple basis being laid, the arrangement of all\nthe parts, and the careful rejection and exclusion of all foreign\nmatter, is the most essential point, both for internal correctness and\nexternal perspicuity. But, in truth, the matter in hand bears a far\ncloser resemblance and affinity to natural objects which live and grow,\nthan to any lifeless edifice of stone; to a great tree, for instance,\nnobly and beautifully spreading out on all sides in its many arms and\nbranches. As such a tree strikes the hasty and passing glance, it forms\na somewhat irregular and not strictly finished whole; there it stands,\njust as the stem has shot up from the root, and has divided itself into\na certain number of branches, and twigs, and leaves, which livingly move\nbackward and forward in the free air. But examine it more closely, and\nhow perfect appears its whole structure! how wonderful the symmetry, how\nminutely regular the organization of all its parts, even of each little\nleaf and delicate fiber! In the same way will the ever-growing tree of\nhuman consciousness and life appear in philosophy, whenever it is not\ntorn from its roots and stripped of its leaves by a pretended wisdom,\nbut is vividly apprehended by a true science, and exhibited and\npresented to the mind in its life and its growth.\n\nNot only, however, the arrangement of the whole, but also the connection\nof the several parts of a philosophical treatise or development, is of a\nhigher kind than any mere mechanical joining, such, for instance, as\nthat by which two pieces of wood are nailed or glued together. If I must\nillustrate this connection by a simile from animated nature, the facts\nof magnetism will best serve my purpose. Once magnetically excited, the\niron needle comes into invisible contact and connection with the whole\nglobe and its opposite poles; and this magnetic clew has guided the bold\ncircumnavigator into new and unknown regions of the world. Now, the\nintrinsic vital coherence of the several thoughts of philosophy\nresembles this magnetic attraction; and no such rude, mechanical, and,\nin fact, mere external conjunction of thought, like that lately alluded\nto, can satisfy the requirements of philosophical connection.\n\nBut the supreme intrinsic unity of philosophical thought, or of a\nphilosophical series of ideas, is quite different from every thing\nhitherto mentioned. It belongs not to nature, but to life; it is not\nderived from the latter by way of figure or illustration, but is a part\nand constituent of it, and goes to the very root and soil of the moral\nlife. What I mean is, the unity of sentiment--the fixed character,\nremaining ever the same and true to itself--the inner necessary sequence\nof the thoughts--which, in life no less than in the system and\nphilosophical theory, invariably makes a great and profound impression\non our minds, and commands our respect, even when it does not carry\nalong with it our convictions. This, however, is dependent on no form,\nand no mere method can attain to it. How often, for instance, in some\nfamous political harangue, which perhaps the speaker, like the\nrhapsodist of old, poured forth on the spur of the moment, do we at once\nrecognize and admire this character in the thoughts, this consistency of\nsentiment? How often, on the contrary, in another composed with the most\nexquisite research and strict method, and apparently a far more\nelaborate and finished creation of the intellect, we have only to pierce\nthrough the systematic exterior to find that it is nothing but an\nill-connected and chance-medley of conflicting assumptions and opinions\ntaken from all quarters, and the crude views of the author himself,\ndevoid of all solidity, and resting on no firm basis, without character,\nand wholly destitute of true intrinsic unity?\n\nIf now, in the present course of Lectures, I shall succeed in laying\nbefore you my subject in that clearness and distinctness which are\nnecessary to enable you to comprehend the whole, and, while taking a\nsurvey of it, to judge of the agreement of the several parts, you will\nfind, I trust, no difficulty in discovering the fundamental idea and\nsentiment. And further, I would venture to entreat you not to judge\nhastily of this sentiment from single expressions, and least of all at\nthe very outset, but, waiting for its progressive development, to judge\nof it on the whole. Lastly, I would also indulge a hope that the views\nof an individual thinker, if perspicuously enunciated, may, even where\nthey fail of conviction, and though points of difference still subsist,\nproduce no revolting impression on your minds; but, by exercising a\nhealing influence on many a rankling wound in thought and life, produce\namong us some of the fairest fruits of true philosophy.\n\nHitherto we have been considering, first of all, the object and proper\nsphere of the philosophy of life; and, secondly, its appropriate form of\ncommunication, as well as all other methods which are alien and foreign\nto it. Of great and decisive importance for the whole course and further\ndevelopment of philosophical inquiry is it to determine, in the next\nplace, the starting-point from which it ought to set out. It will not do\nto believe that we have found this in any axiom or postulate such as are\nusually placed at the head of a system. For such a purpose we must\nrather investigate the inmost foundation--the root out of which springs\nthe characteristic feature of a philosophical view. Now, in the\nphilosophy of life the whole consciousness, with all its different\nphases and faculties, must inevitably be taken for the foundation, the\nsoul being considered as the center thereof. This simple basis being\nonce laid, it may be further developed in very different ways. For it\nis, I might almost say, a matter of indifference from what point in the\ncircumference or periphery we set out in order to arrive at the center,\nwith the design of giving a further development to this as the\nfoundation of the whole. But in order to illustrate this simple method\nof studying life from its true central point, which is intermediate\nbetween the two wrong courses already indicated, and in order to make,\nby contrast, my meaning the plainer, I would here, in a few words,\ncharacterize the false starting-point from which the prevailing\nphilosophy of a day--whether that of France in the eighteenth century or\nthe more recent systems of Germany--has hitherto, for the most part,\nproceeded. False do I call it, both on account of the results to which\nit has led, and also of its own intrinsic nature. In one case as well as\nin the other, the starting-point was invariably some controverted point\nof the reason--some opposition or other to the legitimacy of the\nreason--under which term, however, little else generally was understood\nthan an opposition of the reason itself to some other principle equally\nvalid and extensive. The principal, or, rather, only way which foreign\nphilosophy took in this pursuit, was to reduce every thing to sensation\nas opposed to reason, and to derive every thing from it alone, so as to\nmake the reason itself merely a secondary faculty, no original and\nindependent power, and ultimately nothing else than a sort of chemical\nprecipitate and residuum from the material impressions.[3] But however\nmuch may be conceded to these and to the external senses, and however\ngreat a share they may justly claim in the whole inner property of the\nthinking man, still it is evident that the perception of these sensuous\nimpressions, the inner coherence--in short, the unity of the\nconsciousness in which they are collected--can never, as indeed it has\noften been objected on the other side, have come into the mind from\nwithout. This was not, however, the end which this doctrine had\nexclusively, or even principally, in view. The ultimate result to which\nthey hoped to come by the aid of this premise was simply the negation of\nthe suprasensible. Whatever in any degree transcends the material\nimpression, or sensuous experience, as well as all possible knowledge\nof, and faith therein, not merely in respect to a positive religion, but\nabsolutely whatever is noble, beautiful, and great--whatever can lead\nthe mind to, or can be referred to a something suprasensible and\ndivine--all this, wherever it may be found, whether in life or thought,\nin history or in nature--ay, even in art itself--it was the ultimate\nobject of this foreign philosophy to decry, to involve in doubt, to\nattack and to overthrow, and to bring down to the level of the common\nand material, or to plunge it into the skeptical abyss of absolute\nunbelief. The first step in this system was a seeming subordination of\nreason to sensation, as a derivative of it--a mere slough which it\nthrows off in its transformations. Afterward, however, the warfare\nagainst the suprasensible was waged entirely with the arms of reason\nitself. The reason, indeed, which supplied these weapons was not one\nscientifically cultivated and morally regulated, but thoroughly\nsophistical and wholly perverted, which, however, put into requisition\nall the weapons of a brilliant but skeptical wit, and moved in the\never-varied turnings of a most ingenious and attractive style. Here,\nwhere the question was no longer the abrogation of any single dogma of\npositive religion, but where the opposition to the divine had become the\nruling tendency of philosophy, it is not easy to refrain from\ncharacterizing it as atheistical--what, indeed, in its inmost spirit it\nreally was, and also historically proved itself by its results.\n\nThe other course adopted by French philosophy, in the times immediately\npreceding the Revolution, was to lay aside the weapons of wit, and to\nemploy a burning eloquence as more likely to attract and to carry away\nminds naturally noble. It had, consequently, if possible, still more\nfatal results than the former. The reason, as the peculiar character of\nman in a civilized state--so it was argued--is like civilized man\nhimself, an artificial creation, and in its essence totally unnatural;\nand the savage state of nature is the only one properly adapted to man.\nAs the means of emancipation from an artificial and corrupt\ncivilization, the well-known theory of the social contract was advanced.\nOur whole age has learned dearly enough the lesson, that this dogma,\npractically applied on a large scale, may, indeed, lead to a despotism\nof liberty, and to the lust of conquest, but can as little effect the\nre-establishment of a true civilization as it can bring back the state\nof nature. It would be a work of supererogation to dwell upon the\npernicious results or the intrinsic hollowness of this system. It is,\nhowever, worth while to remark, that, in this theory also, the beginning\nwas made with an opposition to reason. Starting with a depreciation of\nit as an artificial state and a departure from nature, at the last it\nthrew itself, and the whole existing frame of society, into the arms of\nreason, and thereby sought to gain for the latter an unlimited\nauthority over all laws, both human and divine. A somewhat similar\nphenomenon may every where be observed, and the same course will\ninvariably be taken when philosophy allows itself to set out with some\nquestion or impugning of the reason, and, in its exclusiveness, makes\nthis dialectical faculty the basis of its investigations.\n\nModern German philosophy, wholly different from the French, both in form\nand spirit, has, from its narrow metaphysical sphere, been of far less\nextensive influence; and, even if it has occasionally led to anarchy, it\nhas been simply an anarchy of ideas. And yet, notwithstanding its\ndifferent character, a similar course of inversion is noticeable in it.\nBeginning with a strict, not to say absolute, limitation of the reason,\nand with an opposition to its assumptions, it also ended in its\ninvestiture with supreme authority--not to say in its deification. The\nfounder[4] of the modern philosophy of Germany commenced his teaching\nwith a lengthy demonstration that the reason is totally incapable of\nattaining to a knowledge of the suprasensible, and that, by attempting\nit, it does but involve itself in endless disputes and difficulties. And\nthen, on this assumed incompetency of the reason for the suprasensible\nwas based the doctrine of the need, the necessity of faith--nay, faith\nitself.[5] But this arbitrary faith appeared to have but little reliance\non itself; and, when closely viewed, turned out to be the old reason,\nwhich, after being solemnly displaced from the front of the\nphilosophical palace, was now again, slightly altered and disguised, set\nup behind it as a useful but humble postern. Dissatisfied with such a\nsystem, the philosophical _Me_ (Ich, Ego) chose another and a new road,\nthat of absolute science,[6] in which it might, from the very first, do\nas it pleased--might bluster and fluster at will. But soon it became\nplain, that in this idealistic doctrine there was no room for any but a\nsubjective reason-god devoid of all objective reality. In it the\nabsolute Ego or Me of each individual was substituted for and identified\nwith the divine. Against this certainty of the \u201cMe,\u201d therefore, there\narose first of all a suspicion, and lastly the reproach of atheism.\nBut, in truth, we ought to be extremely scrupulous in applying this term\nin all cases where the question does not turn on a rude denial of the\ntruth, but rather on a highly erroneous confusion of ideas. At least, it\nwould be well if, in such a case, we were to distinguish the imputed\natheism by the epithet of scientific, in order to indicate thereby that\nthe censure and the name apply in truth only to the error of the system,\nand not to the character of the author. For with such a scientific\natheism, the sternest stoicism in the moral doctrine may, as indeed was\nactually the case here, be easily combined. Quite weary, however, of the\ntranscendent vacuity of this ideal reason and mere dialectical\nreasoning, German philosophy now took a different road. It turned more\nto the side of nature,[7] in whose arms she threw herself in perfect\nadmiration, thinking to find there alone life and the fullness thereof.\nNow, although this new philosophy of nature has borne many noble fruits\nof science, still even it has been haunted by that delusive phantom of\nthe Absolute, and it is not free from liability to the reproach of a\npantheistic deification of Nature. But properly and accurately speaking,\nit was not nature itself that was set up as the supreme object of\nveneration, but this same phantom of reason, which was taken as the\nbasis and fundamental principle of nature. It was, in short, nothing but\nthe old metaphysical one-times-one[8] in a somewhat novel application\nand more vivid form. Here, therefore, also did the system commence with\na seeming disgust at the reason, and with a subordination of it to\nnature, in order to conclude with the absolute principle of the reason.\n\nViewed, however, as a philosophical science of nature, it has rather to\nanswer for some occasional errors and perverse extravagances, than for\nany thoroughly consequent and systematic carrying out of the ingrafted\nerror into all its parts. Moreover, a broad distinction must undoubtedly\nbe drawn between its different advocates and promulgators. In these last\ndays German philosophy has, in a measure at least, reverted again into\nthe empty vacuum of _the absolute_ idea.[9] The latter, indeed, and the\nidol of absolute reason which is enshrined therein, is no more a mere\ninward conception, but is objectively understood and set up as the\nfundamental principle of all entity. But still, when we consider how the\nessence of mind is expressly made to consist in negation, and how also\nthe spirit of negation is predominant through the whole system, a still\nworse substitution appears to have taken place, inasmuch as, instead of\nthe living God, this spirit of negation, so opposed to Him, is, in\nerroneous abstraction, set up and made a god of. Here, therefore, as\nwell as elsewhere, a metaphysical lie assumes the place of a divine\nreality.\n\nThus, then, do we every where observe a strange internal correspondence\nand affinity between the several aberrations of our age. Here the\nremotest mental extremes, which externally seem to repel each other,\nsuddenly converge at the same point of delusive light, or rather of\nbrilliant darkness. Instances of this correspondence startle us where we\nleast expect to meet with them. An English poet,[10] perhaps the\ngreatest, certainly the most remarkable poet of our age, in his tragic\ndelineation of the oldest fratricide, has portrayed the prime mover of\nthis deed, the enemy of the human race, and the king of the bottomless\npit, as the bold censurer of the divine order of things, and the head of\nall discontented spirits, and leader of the opposition of the whole\ncreation. In this light he has painted him with unparalleled boldness,\nand with such moving and astonishing truthfulness, that all previous\ndescriptions by the greatest poets seem but arbitrary and unreal\nphantoms when compared with this portrait, which was evidently a\nfavorite sketch, for the author\u2019s secret partiality betrays itself in\nthe skill and pains with which he has lavished on this dark figure all\nthe magic colors of his fancy. Thus, then, in this poetic creation, the\nsame hostile principle--the same absolute, _i.e._, evil spirit of\nnegation and contradiction that forms the consummation of the errors of\nGerman philosophy, notwithstanding its abstract unintelligibility--is\nenthroned amid the disordered system. And so, by a strange law of\n\u201cpre-established harmony,\u201d the anti-Christian poet and these\nanti-Christian thinkers unexpectedly meet together at the point of a\nspurious sublimity. In any case, however, this last instance forms the\nthird stage of idealistic confusion, and certainly the last grade of\nscientific atheism.\n\nNow, briefly to recapitulate my own convictions and my view of the\nrelation subsisting between the philosophy of life which I propose to\nset before you, and the prevalent philosophy and science of the age, the\nfollowing few remarks will suffice. I honor and admire the discoveries\nso pregnant with important results which natural philosophy has made in\nour days, but especially the gigantic strides which the study of nature\nin France has taken; so far, at least, as they contain and have\nestablished a real and solid advance of human science; so far, too, as I\nam acquainted with them, and in my sphere understand them. On the other\nhand, I can not but take exception to that admixture of materialism\nwhich has been infused into them by the ruling philosophical system of a\nprevious age, which in France has still so many followers. I honor, too,\nand love German science, with its diligent and comprehensive research.\nNay, I value the natural philosophy of Germany even still more than that\nof France, since, while it adopts the same great discoveries, it views\nthem in a more spiritual light. As for that idealistic jargon, however,\nwhich runs parallel and is interwoven with it, on which, indeed, it was\noriginally based, and from which even now it is any thing but\nclear--this I can not regard in any other light than, what it really is,\nan intellectual delusion of the most pernicious kind, and one which will\ninevitably produce the most destructive and fatal consequences on the\nhuman mind.\n\nWhat has been now said will suffice for our notice of the opposing\nsystems of philosophy. Henceforward we shall have no need to turn our\nlooks to this side, but shall be able to give our attention solely and\ncalmly to the development of that which I have already announced, and\nhave now to communicate to you. Previously, however, to entering upon\nthis subject, it seemed to me advisable, by contrasting the false\nstarting-point with the true center of philosophy, to set the latter\nbefore you in a clearer and distincter light.\n\nThe dialectical faculty of abstraction is naturally the predominant one,\nand the most completely evolved in the thinking mind. Accordingly, most\nthinkers have set it up as the basis of their speculations, in order to\narrive the more rapidly at the desired end of an absolute science; or,\nif the habit of mind be more disposed that way, at an absolute\n_not-knowing_, and the rejection of all certainty; which, in the main,\nis quite as false, and, in this respect, identical with the former. But\nit is not sufficient to follow any such a partial course, and to start\nfrom any one side merely of the human consciousness. On the right and\nsure road of a complete and thorough investigation, our first duty is to\nstudy the human consciousness in its fullness and living development, in\nall its faculties and powers. And then, in the second place, when, by\nthus assuming a position in the center, man has enabled himself to take\na complete survey of the whole, he may unquestionably proceed to inquire\nwhat kind and what degree of knowledge, with such a consciousness, he is\ncapable of attaining, both of the external world and of the\nsuprasensible, and how far the latter is conceivable and its existence\npossible. Now, just as generally the soul is the principle of all life\nin nature, so is the thinking soul the center of the human\nconsciousness. But in the thinking soul is comprised the reason which\ndistinguishes, combines, and infers, no less than the fancy which\ndevises, invents, and suggests. Standing in the center between the two,\nthe thinking soul embraces both faculties. But it also forms the\nturning-point of transition between the understanding and the will; and,\nas the connecting link, fills up the gulf which otherwise would lie\nbetween and divide the two. It comprises, also, all sorts and degrees of\nconceptions, from the absolutely necessary, precisely definite, and\npermanently unchangeable, down to those which arise and pass away half\ninvoluntarily--from those in no degree clearly developed up to those\nwhich have been advanced to the highest clearness of the\nunderstanding--those which are witnessed with a calm indifference, and\nthose also which excite a gentle longing or kindle a burning resolve.\nThe thinking soul is the common store-house where the whole of these\nconceptions are successively lodged. Indeed, to describe it in general\nterms, it is but the inner pulse of thought, corresponding to the\npulsation of the blood in the living body.\n\nThis general description, it must be confessed, is very far from being\nan adequate explanation of the matter, and at best does but imperfectly\nconvey our meaning. But perhaps a different line of thought, however\nbold and hazardous it may seem, may bring us far more simply to the\npoint at present in view--a more accurate description, namely, of the\npeculiar property of the human mind, and of the characteristic feature\nwhich distinguishes man from other beings equally finite, but endowed in\nthe same manner with consciousness. That the rational soul, or the\nreason, distinguishes him from the brutes, is a remark common and trite\nenough. But this is only one aspect of the matter: and must we always\ncast our looks downward, and never upward? What I mean is this:\nsupposing that there are other created spirits and finite intelligences\nbesides men, might not the comparison of their purely spiritual\nconsciousness with man\u2019s serve, perhaps in an eminent degree, to\nelucidate the distinctive properties of the human consciousness in that\nother aspect which is too commonly neglected? I am far from intending to\nmake this matter a subject of investigation in the present place. I take\nit merely as an hypothesis, warranted, indeed, by universal tradition,\nand solely as an aid to elucidate the matter in hand. Universal,\nhowever, I may well call this tradition, since, agreeing in the main\nwith what Holy Writ asserts, the oldest and most civilized nations of\nantiquity (among whom I need only mention the Egyptians, and especially\nthe Persians and the Hindoos) have admitted, as a well-established fact,\nthe existence of such finite intelligences and created spirits,\ninvisible indeed to man, but not altogether alien to him. And as for the\nGreeks and Romans, if occasionally they allude to the genius of Socrates\nas something strange and singular, this was only because the wise\nAthenian spoke of this subject in peculiar language, and referred to it\nmore habitually than was the wont of his countrymen and cotemporaries.\nOtherwise it was the general belief, both of Greeks and Romans, that\nevery man has his guardian spirit or genius. Now this hypothesis being\nonce admitted to be possible, let us inquire in what light were these\nancients accustomed to regard, and what ought we to conceive of the\npeculiar nature of these spiritual beings in conformity with the\nrepresentation of so universal a tradition?\n\nNow, in the first place, they have always been thought of as pure\nspiritual beings, having no such gross terrestrial body as man has. At\nleast, if they were supposed to require and possess a body as the organ\nand medium of their spiritual operations, it was considered to be of a\nspecial kind--an ethereal body of light, but invisible to the human eye.\nBut this incorporeity is little more than a negative quality. A more\npositive and a profounder distinction lies perhaps in this, that these\npure spiritual beings are wholly free from that weakness of character,\nor frailty, which is so peculiar to man. That pervading internal\nmutability, that undecided vacillation between doing and letting alone,\nthat reciprocation between effort and relaxation--the wide gulf between\nvolition and execution, the thought and the carrying into\neffect--nothing of all this admits of being applied or transferred to\nthese pure spiritual beings without contradicting the very idea of their\nessence. It is thus only, or not at all, that we can conceive of them.\nComing and going like the lightning, and rapid as the light, they never\ngrow weary of their endless activity. They need no rest, except the\nspiritual contemplation which constitutes their essence. All their\nthoughts are marked with unity and identity. With them the conception is\nat the same time a deed, and the purpose and the execution are\nsimultaneous. Every thing, too, in them has the stamp of eternity. This\nprerogative, however, has, it must be confessed, its disadvantages. When\nonce they have deviated from the true center, they go on forever in\ntheir devious course.\n\nBut still, all this is little more than a description of the whole idea\nwhich I have allowed myself, merely with a view of employing it as a\npassage to the point which is at present in question. That purpose was,\non the supposition of the existence of such superior beings, accurately\nto indicate which of man\u2019s powers, or faculties of mind and soul, may\nrightly be attributed to them. Now, to my mind, the distinction is very\nstrikingly suggested in the well-known sentiment of one of our famous\npoets. Thus he addresses man--\u201cThy knowledge thou sharest with superior\nbeings;\u201d superior, for in the clearness of their eternal science they\nundoubtedly stand far higher than men: and then he continues, \u201cBut art\nthou hast alone.\u201d[11] But, now, what else is art than fancy become\nvisible, and assuming a bodily shape, or word, or sound? It is,\ntherefore, this nimble-footed, many-shaped, ever-inventive fancy, which\nforms the dangerous prerogative of man, and can not be ascribed to\nthese pure spiritual beings. And as little justifiable would it be to\nascribe to them that human reason, with its employment of means, and its\nslow processes of deduction and comparison. Instead of this, they\npossess the intuitive understanding, in which to see and to understand\nare simultaneous and identical. If, then, in an accurate sense of the\nterms, neither fancy nor reason belongs to them, it would further be\nwrong to attribute them a soul as distinct from the mind or spirit, and\nas being rather a passive faculty of inward productiveness, and change,\nand internal growth. Briefly to recapitulate what has been said: The\nexistence of the brutes is simple, because in them the soul is\ncompletely mixed up and merged in the organic body, and is one with it;\non the destruction of the latter it reverts to the elements, or is\nabsorbed in the general soul of nature. Twofold, however, is the nature\nof created spirits, who besides this ethereal body of light are nothing\nbut mind or spirit; but threefold is the nature of man, as consisting of\nspirit, soul, and body.[12] And this triple constitution and property,\nthis threefold life of man, is, indeed, not in itself that pre-eminence,\nalthough it is closely connected with that superior excellence which\nennobles and distinguishes man from all other created beings. I allude\nto that prerogative by which he alone of all created beings is invested\nwith the Divine image and likeness. This threefold principle is the\nsimple basis of all philosophy; and the philosophical system which is\nconstructed on such a foundation is the philosophy of life, which\ntherefore has even \u201cwords of life.\u201d It is no idle speculation, and no\nunintelligible hypothesis. It is not more difficult, and needs not to be\nmore obscure, than any other discourse on spiritual subjects; but it can\nand may be as easy and as clear as the reading of a writing, the\nobservation of nature, and the study of history. For it is, in truth,\nnothing else than a simple theory of spiritual life, drawn from life\nitself, and the simple understanding thereof. If, however, it becomes\nabstract and unintelligible, this is invariably a consequence, and, for\nthe most part, an infallible proof of its having fallen into error. When\nin thought we place before us the whole composite human individual,\nthen, after spirit and soul, the organic body is the third constituent,\nor the third element out of which, in combination with the other two,\nthe whole man consists and is compounded. But the structure of the\norganic body, its powers and laws, must be left to physical science to\ninvestigate. Philosophy is the science of consciousness alone. It has,\ntherefore, primarily to occupy itself with soul and spirit, or mind, and\nmust carefully guard against transgressing its limits in any respect.\nBut the third constituent beside mind and soul, in which these two\njointly carry on their operations, needs not always, as indeed the above\ninstance proves, to be an organic body. In other relations of life, this\nthird, in which both are united, or which they in unison produce, may be\nthe word, the deed, life itself, or the divine order on which both are\ndependent. These, then, are the subjects which I have proposed for\nconsideration. But in order to complete this scale of life, I will\nfurther observe--triple is the nature of man, but fourfold is the human\nconsciousness. For the spirit or mind, like the soul, divides and falls\nasunder; or, rather, is split and divided into two powers, or\nhalves--the mind, namely, into understanding and will, the soul into\nreason and fancy. These are the four extreme points, or, if the\nexpression be preferred, the four quarters of the inner world of\nconsciousness. All other faculties of the soul, or powers of mind, are\nmerely subordinate ramifications of the four principal branches; but the\nliving center of the whole is the thinking soul.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE II.\n\nOF THE LOVING SOUL AS THE CENTER OF THE MORAL LIFE; AND OF MARRIAGE.\n\n\nThe development of the human consciousness, according to the triple\nprinciple of its existence, or of its nature as compounded of spirit or\nmind, soul, and animated body, must begin with the soul, and not with\nthe spirit, even though the latter be the most important and supreme.\nFor the soul is the first grade in the progress of development. In\nactual life, also, it is the beginning and the permanent foundation, as\nwell as the primary root of the collective consciousness. The\ndevelopment of the spirit or mind of man is much later, being first\nevolved in or out of, by occasion of, or with the co-operation of the\nsoul. But even when thus developed, the mind (under which term we\ncomprise the will, as well as the understanding) is neither in all men,\nnor always in the same individual, equally active. In this respect we\nmay apply to it what has been said of the wind, which imparts vital\nmotion and freshness to all the objects of outward nature: we \u201chear the\nsound thereof, but we can not tell whence it comes, nor whither it\ngoeth.\u201d[13] The thinking soul, on the contrary, is, properly speaking,\nalways, though silently, working; and it is highly probable that it is\nnever without conceptions. Of these, indeed, it may either possess a\nclear or an almost totally indistinct consciousness, according to that\nprinciple of unconscious representations propounded as a fundamental\naxiom of psychology by a great German philosopher[14] of earlier times,\nwith whose opinions I often find myself agreeing, and with whom, before\nall other men, I would most gladly concur.\n\nApplied to the alternating states of sleeping and waking in the outward\norganic life, this would merely mean that in sleep we always dream, even\nat those times when our vision leaves no traces on our memory. The great\nmajority of dreams, even those which in the moment of awakening we still\nremember, are absolutely nothing but the conjoint impression of the\nbodily tone and the ever-varying temperament of life and health, and of\nthe disorderly repetition of such ideas as previously to sleeping had\nprincipally engaged the attention. Now, since every opposite comes near\nto its correlative in one or more points of contact, which, as they\nestablish, also serve to maintain the relationship between the two, so\nthe state of the soul in dreaming will serve strikingly to illustrate\nits waking action. Of the great multitude of dreams, which are for the\nmost part confused and unmeaning, some occasionally stand out from the\nrest extremely clear and well-connected, in which the feelings\noftentimes discover a profound significance, or which, at least, as\nsignificant images, interest the fancy. And just in the same manner in\nthe state of waking there passes before the soul no inconsiderable\nnumber of obscure and vague conceptions, which are not much if at all\nclearer or more methodically disposed than the train of images which in\na dream succeed one another without the least intrinsic order or\nconnection. Still we should greatly err were we to assume, that like the\nlatter they leave no trace behind them on the soul. On the contrary, in\nthese undeveloped beginnings of thought there often lies the germ of\nvery definite ideas, and especially of the various peculiarities of\nmental character, as also of the impulses and determination which, at\nfirst slowly and spontaneously formed, eventuate in some definite\nsusceptibility or direction of the will. Now, as the external life of\nman alternates between the waking activity and the state of repose in\nsleep, so, too, the thinking soul is divided between the abstracting and\nclassifying Reason and the inventive Fancy.[15] These two are, as it\nwere, the halves, so to speak, or the two poles of the thinking soul,\nof which the one may be regarded as the positive, the other as the\nnegative. In respect to the inner fruitful cogitation itself--to the\norigination and production of thoughts--the imagination, as the\nreproductive faculty, is the positive pole. As for the fancy, properly\nso called--the poetic _fancy_, or that which plays an important part in\nthe inclinations and passions--it is only a particular species and\noperation of this faculty, which in its general form also manifests\nitself in many other directions and spheres of human thought and action.\nTo it belongs, for instance, that talent of extensive combination which\ndistinguishes all the great discoverers in mathematics. Opposite to this\nproductive faculty of thought, the negative pole is formed by the\nclassifying faculty of reason, which further elaborates, closely\ndetermines, and limits the materials furnished to it by the fancy. Thus,\nthen, the place which the fancy--with all the powers, emotions, and\nimpressions which belong to it--assumes relatively to the external\nworld, is subordinate and ministerial, since it is only within certain\nprescribed limits that it can duly make use of its rich productive\nenergies, realize its inmost ideas, and act upon them.\n\nHere, therefore, the first place belongs to the ordering and determining\nreason, and which here ought to hold the helm. In this respect it may\njustly be called the regulative faculty. And yet, since the reason is,\nso to speak, only one half of the soul, it must not pretend to exclusive\nauthority; while, on the other hand, it is but little likely that that\nwhich we may have set before our mind and imagination as the innermost\nwish of our hearts, will simply on that account prove invariably a real\nand lasting good.\n\nI called the understanding and the will, the reason and the fancy, the\nfour principal branches of the human consciousness, of which all other\nmental powers or faculties of the soul, usually ascribed to man, are but\nso many offshoots. These other powers, however, can not with perfect\npropriety be called subordinate, since in another point of view they\nmay, perhaps, be entitled to assume a higher rank. _Assigned_[16]\nfaculties is, therefore, what I should prefer to term them. Now of such\nfaculties belonging to the domain of the combining and distinguishing\nreason, the memory and the conscience are pre-eminently to be\nmentioned. For the memory also in another way is a combining, just as\nthe conscience is a distinguishing faculty--the latter, however, being\nso not only in another, but even in a far higher sense. But we must\npostpone for the present the further consideration of this matter, and\nconsider rather those faculties or functions which are under the\ninfluence of, or at least immediately connected with, the fancy. These\nare the senses, and the inclinations or instincts. With regard, then, to\nthe senses: in the first place, I would simply call your attention to\nthe fact, that the triple principle of human existence--according to\nwhich the latter consists of a spirit or mind, of a soul, and of a\nliving body or a bodily manifestation--is repeated as it were in\nminiature in every smaller and narrower sphere of man\u2019s consciousness.\nThis is especially the case with the external senses. Thus viewing them,\nhowever, we should have to reckon but three senses instead of the usual\nnumber of five. This can be managed easily enough by taking the three\nlower and counting them as one, since they constitute pre-eminently the\ncorporeal sense, as contradistinguished from the other two, which are\nboth higher and more incorporeal. For to the three lower senses, not\nonly is a material contact indispensable, but also, as in the case of\nsmell, a sort of chemical assimilation with matter. No doubt, in the act\nof seeing and hearing there is likewise a certain but imperceptible\ncontact of the nerves of the eye and ear with the waves of light and the\nundulations of the air; but still this contact is of a different kind\nfrom the former, and of another and indeed of a higher nature, producing\nthe relations of tone, color, and shape. Now, in this classification,\nthe eye is the mind or spirit\u2019s sense for beauty of form and grace of\nmotion. It is so in truth, not merely in those who are endowed with a\ntaste for the arts or the artistic eye, but far more universally, being\ndiffused in a greater or less degree through the whole human family.\nSpecial gifts of it, or, rather, higher though varying endowments, are\nto be found in some highly-favored individuals; and in the same way the\near for music is not imparted to all who possess the general organ of\nhearing, which we very properly term the soul\u2019s sense. The external\nsenses man shares, indeed, in common with the brutes, in some of whom\nthey are found of an exquisite and highly-developed susceptibility. But\nthese higher endowments of eye and ear, and above all the natural\nartistic feeling for beauty of form, and the musical talent, are the\nprerogatives of man, conferred upon him by his peculiar faculty of\nfancy. On this account they, like that faculty, are distributed\nunequally among men, though they are not on that account less real and\nundeniable.\n\nThe brutes, I said, do not possess them. No doubt there is a certain\nmelodious rhythm perceptible in the songs of birds. Some, also, of the\nmore eminently docile and sagacious of terrestial animals do indeed\nevince peculiar signs of pleasure in the music of man. Still I would\ncall this but so many single, unconnected echoes or reverberations of\nfancy, since every thing like free choice, further development, or\nintrinsic coherence, is wanting to them--all is broken, abrupt, and\nincapable of being formed into a whole. In the same manner the artistic\ninstinct and skill of some animals exhibits, no doubt, a certain\nlikeness in its operations to the rational works of man, but still it\never remains a resemblance at best, and is forever divided from reason\nby a wide and impassable gulf. It is, as it were, the indistinct trace\nof a weather-worn and nearly obliterated inscription--the dying notes of\nsome far-off music. And hence the agreeable, but, at the same time,\nmelancholy, impression which such things make upon our feelings. A\nsomething human seems to be stirring in them. They appear to revive a\nfaint but nearly-forgotten allusion to an originally close and intrinsic\nrelation between animated nature in its highest developments and man as\nits former master and as the divinely-appointed lord of the whole\nearthly creation. But if the influence and the operation of the fancy on\nthe external senses be thus indistinct and difficult to be traced, it is\nfar more apparent, as also far greater and more decided, on the\ninclinations, instincts, and passions which form the second class of the\nfaculties subordinate to the fancy. It can easily be shown how even the\nsimplest instincts of self-preservation, and the gratification of the\nmost natural wants, are in man perceptibly affected by the working of\nfancy, so as to be manifoldly diversified thereby. But still more is\nthis the case with the higher impulses and instincts, as confirmed and\nstrengthened by use and indulgence, especially when, in their most\nviolent and intensest development, they become passions. For, in this\nshape, both by this excess and by the false direction they give to the\nmental powers, originally designed for nobler and more exalted purposes,\nthey form so many moral perversities and faults of character. I would\nhere, in the first place, call your attention to the fact, that in all\nthe passions, when, by their intensity, they become immoral, the fancy\nexercises an essential and co-operating influence. And, in the second\nplace, I would remind you that in the same way as in the external senses\ngenerally, so also in all the principal phases of ill-regulated passion,\nthe threefold principle of human existence manifests itself once more,\nand is even repeated anew in all the several forms and subdivisions of\nthese special spheres.\n\nNow, the first of these false tendencies and moral\ninfirmities--unbounded pride and haughtiness--is essentially a mental\nblindness and aberration; and vanity, with its delusions, is the same\ndisease in a lower and milder phase. And all will admit that the source\nof this moral failing is an overweening love of self. But in\nself-conceit the co-operating influence of fancy is easily and\ndistinctly traceable. As to the second of those infirmities which\ndistract and disturb life: I should also be disposed to consider the\nsensual passionateness or passionate sensuality as a disease indeed, but\nof a brutalizing tendency--an inflammatory habit, a fever of the soul,\nwhich either spends itself in acute and violent paroxysms, or with\nslower but certain progress secretly undermines and subverts all man\u2019s\nbetter qualities. In either case, the true source of the evil--the\nirresistible energy and the false magic of this passion--lies in an\nover-excited, deluded, or poisoned fancy. The natural instinct itself,\nin so far as it is inborn and agreeable to nature, is obnoxious to no\nreproach. The blame lies altogether in the want of principle, or that\nweakness of character which half-voluntarily concedes to the mere\ninstinct an unlimited authority, or, at least, is incapable of\nexercising over it a due control. The third false direction of man\u2019s\ninstincts which, after the two already noticed, involves human society\nin the greatest disorder, and most fatally disturbs the peace of\nindividuals, is an unlimited love of gain, selfishness, and avarice. No\ndoubt, in a certain modified and lower sense, the hope of advantage or\nprofit is the motive that prompts every enterprise; at least, according\nto the judgment of the world, nothing is undertaken or transacted\nwithout a view to some object of a selfishness more or less refined. But\nwhen we look to the worst and most violent cases of this disease--an\ninsatiable avarice and a morbid love of gain, then we at once see the\nbaneful effects which the fancy, dwelling exclusively on material\nproperty and chinking coin, has on this moral disease, where, with the\ngolden treasure, mind and soul are shut up and buried, and both\ncompletely numbed and petrified, in the same way that, by certain\norganic diseases of the body, the heart becomes ossified.\n\nBy these pernicious passions, the higher moral organ of life is in\ndifferent ways attacked and destroyed. In the first case, that of the\nblinding of the mind by pride and vanity, the moral judgment is\nperverted and falsified. In the second case, where the soul is\nbrutalized by a life of sensuality, the moral sense is clouded, loses\nall its delicacy, and is at last totally obliterated. In the third\ninstance, that of a thorough numbness of the inner life produced by\nselfishness and avarice, the idea of moral duty is in the end totally\nlost, dies away, and becomes extinct, while the dead Mammon is regarded\nas the supreme good of life, and, being set up as the sole object of\nhuman exertion, is substituted for the best and noblest acquisition of\nmind and soul. The three passions which we have already examined are\nfounded indeed on a positive pursuit, however false may be the extent or\nperverted the direction in which it is carried out. We might now proceed\nwith our speculation, and, progressively developing it from the same\npoint of view, extend and apply it to the aggressive passions, which are\nbased on a merely negative pursuit--the attack, annihilation, and\ndestruction of their objects. I allude to the passion of hatred, in its\nthree different elements or species, viz., anger, malice, and revenge.\nBut to enter further upon such investigations would be inappropriate in\nthe present place. Generally, indeed, in touching upon matters so\nuniversally known, my object has been merely to consider and exhibit\nthem from their psychological side, in order to show partly how the\ntriple principle of human existence, according to mind or spirit, and\nsoul, and the third element, wherein the former two conjointly operate,\nfinds its application, and is repeated, as it were, in miniature, in the\nnarrower sphere of the natural inclination, both good and bad, and also\nin that of the external senses. At the same time it was also my wish to\ncall attention to the fact, that the dominion of the fancy over its\nsubordinate faculties, whether of the external senses or the instincts,\nmanifests itself likewise in the pernicious passions, as exercising over\nthem a very baneful influence, and, indeed, as being the principal\nsource of the prevailing aberrations.\n\nThese three passions and leading defects of character, which destroy the\ninward peace of individuals and disturb the order of society, may be\nregarded as so many Stygian floods, so many dark subterranean streams of\nlava and fire, which, bursting from the crater of a burning fancy, pour\ndown upon the region of the will, there again to break out in lawless\ndeeds and violent catastrophes, or, perhaps, what is far worse, to lie\nsmoldering in a life frittered away in worthless pursuits, without\nobject or meaning, or in the frivolous routine of an ordinary existence.\n\nHaving thus fully set forth the injurious influence of a disordered\nfancy on the deadly and pernicious passions of man, we shall be more at\nliberty to consider the other and better aspect of this mental faculty.\nFor fancy, which, as his peculiar prerogative, distinguishes man from\nall other intellectual beings, is a living and fruitful source of good\nno less than of evil. Accordingly, in the higher aims of his good\ninstincts, noble inclinations, and true enthusiasms, fancy gives life\nand stability to his exertions, and arouses and calls to his aid all the\nenergies of mind and intellect.\n\nBut here I must make the preliminary remark, that in the ethical domain\ngenerally, and in all moral matters and relations, nothing but a very\nfine line divides right from wrong. The fault lies not unfrequently in\nthe undue exaggeration or false application of a right principle. Pride\nand vanity, for instance, are the commonest subjects of the world\u2019s\ncensure; but who would banish from existence a true sense of honor, and\na noble thirst of fame. And how would society lose all its tone and its\ntrue ring, if we were to withdraw from it all those precious metals!\nAvarice and the love of gain are, no doubt, fruitful sources of evil,\nand bring into society a thousand--nay, we may rather say, without\nexaggeration, ten thousand times ten thousand woes. They are the\noccasion of countless feuds and endless litigation; so that the\nprevention and settlement of these numberless commercial quarrels and\ndisputes about property occupy the chief part of the attention, and\nabsorb the best energies of domestic government. But a gainful industry,\ndirected to utility, and even to private utility--labor and assiduity\nwhich have no other end in view than a lawful gain and a fair profit,\nwhich not merely does not violate the rights of others, but even pays a\ndue regard to their interests, will be universally recognized as an\nessential part of the frame of society. It forms, indeed, the\nalimentary sap of life, which, as it ascends through its different\nvessels, diffuses every where both health and strength.\n\nLastly, we will now consider that other instinct of our nature, which,\neven as the strongest, most requires moral regulation and treatment. By\nall noble natures among civilized nations, in their best and purest\ntimes, this instinct has, by means of various moral relations, been\nspontaneously associated with a higher element. And, indeed, taken\nsimply as inclination, it possesses some degree of affinity therewith.\nSuch a strong inclination and hearty love, elevated to the bond of\nfidelity, receives thereby a solemn consecration, and is even, according\nto the divine dispensation, regarded as a sanctuary. And it is in truth\nthe moral sanctuary of earthly existence, on which God\u2019s first and\nearliest blessing still rests. It is, moreover, the foundation on which\nis built the happiness and the moral welfare of races and nations. This\nsoul-connecting link of love, which constitutes the family union, is the\nsource from which emanate the strong and beautiful ties of a mother\u2019s\nlove, of filial duty, and of fraternal affection between brethren and\nkindred, which together make up the invisible soul, and, as it were, the\ninner vital fluid of the nerves of human society. And here, too, the\ngreat family problem of education must be taken into account--and by\neducation I mean the whole moral training of the rising generation. For,\nhowever numerous and excellent may be the institutions founded by the\nstate, or conducted by private individuals, for special branches and\nobjects, or for particular classes and ages, still, on the whole,\neducation must be regarded as pre-eminently the business and duty of the\nfamily. For it is in the family that education commences, and there,\nalso, it terminates and concludes at the moment when the young man,\nmature of mind and years, and the grown-up maiden, leave the paternal\nroof to found a new family of their own. In seasons of danger, and of\nwide-spread and stalking corruption, men are wont to feel--but often,\nalas! too late--how entirely the whole frame, both of human and\npolitical society, rests on this foundation of the family union. Not\nmerely by the phenomena of our own times, but by the examples of the\nmost civilized nations of antiquity, may this truth be historically\nproved; and numerous passages can be adduced from their great historians\nin confirmation of it. In all times and in all places a moral revolution\nwithin the domestic circle has preceded the public outbreaks of general\nanarchy, which have thrown whole nations into confusion, and undermined\nthe best-ordered and wisely-constituted states. When all the principal\njoists of a building have started, and all its stays and fastenings,\nfrom the roof to the foundation, have become loose, then will the first\nstorm of accident easily demolish the whole structure, or the first\nspark set the dry and rotten edifice in flames.\n\nNext in order and dignity to this soul-binding tie of a noble and\nvirtuous love, which promotes and preserves the intimate union of all\nthe parts of social life, another species or form of a lofty, a good,\nand a beautiful--nay, even of a sublime--endeavor, shows itself in what\nwe call enthusiasm. The latter has for its positive object a thought\nwhich the soul having once intellectually embraced, is ever after filled\nand possessed with. But the mere inward idea does not suffice here,\nhowever it may in the case of the simple conception or admiration of a\nnoble thought. The distinctive characteristic of enthusiasm is rather\nthe untiring energy with which, even at great personal sacrifice, it\nlabors to realize, or to preserve in realization, the idea which has\nonce fully possessed the soul. The commonest form or species of this\nenthusiasm is patriotism, or the love of country, which best and most\nplainly manifests itself in seasons of national danger or calamity. As\nthe daily life of the individual alternates between labor and rest, and\nthe refreshing sleep of the night renews the strength which has been\nexhausted by the toils of the day, so is it on a larger scale with the\npublic life of the state in its alternations between peace and war. For\nalthough peace is justly prized and desired, as the greatest of public\nblessings, still it is some comfort and compensation for its unavoidable\nabsence, to know that the presence of war, and the struggle with its\ndangers and hardships, first awaken and call into being many of man\u2019s\nbest energies and noblest virtues, which, in uninterrupted peace and\ntranquillity, must have remained forever dormant. But, as is every where\nthe case throughout the moral domain, a spurious enthusiasm stands close\nalongside of the true and genuine species, and requires to be carefully\ndistinguished from it. Forced to speak of the love of country, and to\npaint its genuine traits, I rejoice that I am standing on one of its\nchosen and most familiar scenes, where my hearers will understand me at\nthe first sound, when I declare that the true enthusiasm of patriotism\nreveals itself most plainly in misfortune--in the midst of deep and\nlasting calamities. Another characteristic is, that it does not\narbitrarily set up its object, or capriciously make its own occasion,\nbut at the first call of its hereditary sovereign rushes to the post of\ndanger. The second mark, therefore, of a true patriotism is obedience,\nbut an obedience associated with the forward energies of a fixed and\nprepared resolve, which far outruns the exact requisitions of duty, and\ngives rise to a true and real equality--the equality of self-sacrifice,\nwherein the high and noble vie with the poor and lowly in the\nmagnanimous oblation to their country of their best and dearest\npossessions.\n\nAnother generally known and admitted species of enthusiasm, viz., a\ntaste for the arts, has not so universal a foundation in the\nconstitution of the human mind as the feeling of patriotism, but implies\na particular mental disposition, and certain natural endowments, and\nconsequently the sphere of its operation is far narrower. But here,\nalso, as in the former case, enthusiasm manifests itself as a property\nor state of the soul which is far from being contented with a calm\nphilosophical contemplation, or admiration, of its inward thought, but\nwhich, longing eagerly to realize and exhibit externally the idea with\nwhich it is possessed, knows no rest nor peace till it has accomplished\nits cherished object. And such an ideal enthusiasm is not confined to\nthe sphere of art alone, but even in the calmer regions of science is\nits influence felt. It is, in short, the animating impulse of all great\ninventions, creations, and discoveries. Without it Columbus would never\nhave been able to overcome all the dangers and obstacles which beset the\nfirst design and the final consummation of his bold conception. But in\nthe latter instances the object of enthusiasm is no longer a pure ideal,\nlike that which animates the artist, but something great or new in the\nregion of useful science, or of practical life. In every case, however,\nenthusiasm has for its object a something positive and real, which, even\nif it be not one which captivates the soul with its transcendent beauty\nand excellence, yet, at least, by its exalted nature fills it with\nwonder and admiration. Quite otherwise is it with a longing--an\nindefinite feeling of profound desire, which is satisfied with no\nearthly object, whether real or ideal, but is ever directed to the\neternal and the divine. And although it presupposes, as the condition of\nits existence, no special genius or peculiar talents, but proceeds\nimmediately out of the pure source of the divinely created and immortal\nsoul--out of the everlasting feelings of the loving soul--still, from\ncauses which are easily conceivable, a pure development of this species\nis _far_ rarer than even of the enthusiasm for art. No doubt, in certain\nhappy temperaments, under circumstances favorable to their free\nexpansion, this vague longing is peculiar to the age of youth, and is\noften enough observed there. Indeed, it is in that soft melancholy,\nwhich is always joined with the half-unconscious, but pleasant feeling\nof the blooming fullness of life, that lies the charm which the\nreminiscence of the days of youth possesses for the calm and quiet\ncontemplations of old age. Here, too, the distinctive mark between the\ngenuine and the spurious manifestations of this feeling is both simple\nenough, and easily found. For as this longing may in general be\nexplained as an inchoate state--a love yet to be developed--the question\nreduces itself consequently to the simple one of determining the nature\nof this love. If, upon the first development and gratification of the\npassions, this love immediately passes over to and loses itself in the\nordinary realities of life, then is it no genuine manifestation of the\nheavenly feeling, but a mere earthly and sensual longing. But when it\nsurvives the youthful ebullition of the feelings, when it does but\nbecome deeper and more intense by time, when it is satisfied with no\njoys, and stifled by no sorrows of earth--when, from the midst of the\nstruggles of life, and the pressure of the world, it turns, like a\nlight-seeing eye upon the storm-tossed waves of the ocean of time, to\nthe heaven of heavens, watching to discover there some star of eternal\nhope--then is it that true and genuine longing, which, directing itself\nto the divine, is itself also of a celestial origin. Out of this root\nsprings almost every thing that is intellectually beautiful and\ngreat--even the love of scientific certainty itself, and of a profound\nknowledge of life and nature. Philosophy, indeed, has no other source,\nand we might in this respect call it, with much propriety, the doctrine\nor the science of longing. But even that youthful longing, already\nnoticed, is oftentimes a genuine, or, at least, the first foundation of\nthe higher and truer species, although, unlike the latter, it is as yet\nneither purely evolved nor refined by the course of time.\n\nOne general remark remains to be added. This beautiful longing of youth,\na fruitful fancy, and a loving soul, are the best and most precious\ngifts of benignant nature, that dispenses with so liberal a hand, or,\nrather, not of nature, but of that wonderful Intelligence that presides\nin and over it. They form, as it were, a fair garden of hidden life\nwithin man. But as the first man was placed in the garden of Eden, not\nmerely for his idle enjoyment, but, as it is expressly stated, \u201cto dress\nit and to keep it,\u201d so here also, when this law of duty is neglected,\nthe inmost heart of the most eminent characters and of the most\nrichly-endowed natures becomes, as it were, a Paradise run wild and\nwaste.\n\nIn the consideration of these three forms of man\u2019s higher effort--viz.,\nlonging, true love, and genuine enthusiasm--I have throughout silently\nimplied, what no one can possibly deny, the co-operating influence of\nfancy. As in the evil passions it exercises an injurious, inflammatory,\nand destructive effect, so also it co-operates beneficially with the\nlonging which is directed to the good and the divine, and imparts to it\nits animating ardor, and its highest energy. In the pure longing,\nindeed, the inventive fancy is dissolved in what has ceased to be an\nearthly feeling, and has become completely identified with the living\nsoul. But in the love and enthusiasm which are directed to some actual\nobject, it is the sustaining flame of life, and of all loftier\naspirations which, as they spring from the source of fancy, attest its\nco-operation. It may be that the pure spirits are filled and pervaded\nwith that loving veneration of the Deity which makes up their blissful\nexistence, simply by means of the intuitive understanding and the pure\nwill, without even any admixture of fancy. A human love or enthusiasm,\nhowever, which should be totally devoid of fancy, and free from its\ninfluence, will very rarely, if ever, be met with, and is but barely\nconceivable. This, however, does not involve any reproach or censure\nagainst man\u2019s love and enthusiasm, as though they were unreal and\nfounded on an untruth. For nothing can be more erroneous than to suppose\nthat the fancy must invariably be untrue and deceiving, or at least\nself-deceived. Such a supposition is derived merely from one species of\nit--the poetical fancy. And yet even this, in its genuine\nmanifestations, contains beneath its privileged and permitted garb of\nexternal untruth, a rich store and living source of great and profound\nverities, of a peculiar kind, and belonging to an internal truth of\nnature. Or, perhaps, this misconception of fancy in general may have its\norigin in that abortion or corruption of it which operates so\npowerfully in the evil passions, which is undoubtedly in the highest\ndegree deceptive and delusive. In and by itself, and taken in its widest\nsignification, this faculty of fancy is, generally speaking, the living\nproductive thought--the faculty of internal fertility--and which also\nwith its outward organs, both of an earthly and a higher sense,\napprehends the whole external world. It enters, therefore, with a living\ninterest into every good as well as base pursuit of man, and giving new\nshapes of its own to all that it has once apprehended, labors to invest\nit with a living form, to apply and to realize it. In itself, therefore,\nand in its pure and uncorrupt state, far from clashing with the divine\ntruth (which, however, is not in every case identical with the ordinary\nreality), fancy, as we shall show more fully in another place, admits of\nbeing easily reconciled with it. But of human things we must always\njudge by a human standard, and with due allowance. Even supposing that,\nin the case of a true love and a genuine enthusiasm, a passing thought\nmay be detected, a momentary excitement or manifestation which goes\nbeyond the exact line of the actual truth--even in such a case this love\nand this enthusiasm would not therefore be less real and genuine--still\nwould not all be exaggeration that might seem so to the unsympathizing\nand unenthusiastic intellect. At all events, it must ever remain\nundeniable, that emergencies occur in human life which are not met by\nthe rigorous and mathematical formularies of ethical science, and where\nby nothing but a noble sacrifice of love far transcending all the common\nand general requisitions of the practical reason--by nothing but a lofty\nenergy and resolute enthusiasm--can a man extricate himself from his\nperplexities and arrive at a happy result. At least, it will not do to\noverlook or misrepresent this element of human life, even though it must\nbe admitted that it is not exempt from those traces of human infirmity\nwhich are also but too apparent in the other aspect of it, the one,\nviz., in which the formal reason decides every thing, and is supreme.\n\nAs, therefore, the thinking soul is the living center of the human\nconsciousness, so, on the other hand, the loving soul is the middle\npoint and the foundation of all moral life, as it shows itself in that\nsoul-bond of love, which, while it constitutes marriage, is tied and\ncompleted therein. On this union, then, which, as historically\nrepresented, appears to be the true commencement of civilized life, it\nwill be necessary to say a few words; and the present seems the most\nappropriate place for them. Now, both in philosophy and in all general\nspeculation, there are many reasoners who would derive every thing from\nmaterial sensations, and seek to degrade all that is regarded as high\nand noble by mankind. So here, also, in the world\u2019s mode of judging of\nthis union--which, however, all publicly-acknowledged principles regard\nas holy--it, and all that belongs to it, is accounted for by some\nevanescent passion, some sensual impression, or some interested view or\nother, while the existence of any thing like true and genuine love is\nabsolutely denied. But, in the first place, in the case of a union which\nembraces the entire man--his sensuous as well as his rational, or, as I\nshould prefer to say, his earthly no less than his spiritual nature and\ntemperament--it can not fairly be urged in objection to it, that both\nthe elements of his mixed constitution are present in it. On the\ncontrary, it is obviously most unjust, in our estimate of it, violently\nto separate what, even in the least corrupted disposition and purest\ncharacters, are most closely interwoven, or, rather, fused together, and\nto subject them to an invidious and destructive analysis. This is not\nthe way to determine the characteristics of a true and of a false love.\nThe distinction between them must rather be sought by a simpler method,\nsimilar to that which we followed in the case of longing and\nenthusiasm--by considering merely the total result. A feeling of this\nkind may appear at the beginning never so violent; it may even amuse\nitself with a thorough mental hallucination, which betrays itself in its\nvery outward aspect, with the profoundest veneration, nay, deification\nof its admired object; but in married life this intense admiration soon\ngives place to satiety or indifference, and imbittered by mutual\ndistrust and misunderstanding, it terminates in incurable discord. In\nsuch a case the feeling, even in its ardent beginnings, was no true\nlove, but simply passion. But in those happy unions, where the first\npassionate ardor of youth yields only to an ever-growing and still purer\ndevelopment of mutual good-will and confidence--while self-sacrifice and\npatient endurance, both in good and evil fortune, do but cherish the\nsame deep affection and calm friendship--here, from the very first, it\nwas true and genuine love. For, however much the outward appearances of\nhuman life may seem to contradict it, there is not in nature, and even\nin the higher region, any love without a return. And as all true love\nis reciprocal, so also is true love lasting and indestructible; or, to\n\u201cspeak as a man,\u201d even because it is the very inmost life of humanity,\nit is, therefore, true unto death.\n\nMoreover, in the case of a union which extends to the whole of life, it\nis quite consistent that a due regard should be paid to the other\ncircumstances and relations of existence; only no general rule can be\nlaid down in this respect. This is a matter which has been left to the\ndiscretion of individuals, even by the divine laws, those sacred\nguardians of wedlock, which, however, rigorously insist on the absence\nof all compulsion, inasmuch as the free consent of all parties is an\nessential condition of this union. And as we should be justified in\ntaking for granted that this reciprocal act of free will must not be any\ninconsiderate or extorted assent, or one induced by other interested\nfeeling or consideration, so is this expressly asserted by the fact\nthat, according to the spirit of these holy laws of matrimony, this\nunion must be founded on mutual affection, and regarded as an\nindissoluble bond of souls, and not as a mere civil contract or deed of\nsale and transfer of rank and property. The latter, as well as all else,\nare mere subordinate matters. Three things, according to God\u2019s moral\ngovernment of the world, are indispensable to and required by the\nessence and spirit of these holy laws. In the first place, there must be\na mutual consent of the will--a reciprocal fondness and liking, to which\nthe will, whenever it is left free and unshackled, gives an appropriate\nutterance and expression. In the second place, these laws require that\nunison of temper which is indispensable to its permanence; while,\nthirdly and lastly, they provide that this union, so sacred in the sight\nof all civilized nations, should be indissoluble. In perfect harmony\nwith this last condition is monogamy--the fundamental law of Christian\nwedlock. And even among the heathen nations of antiquity, though without\nthe sanction of law, yet, nevertheless, under the influence of an\ninstinctive sense of what is morally right and noble, monogamy had\npractically become the almost universal rule. Highly important to the\nwelfare of the human race is the inviolable maintenance of this sacred\nlaw of marriage. So incalculable are the disasters which follow from its\nviolation, that I can safely venture to assert, without fear of\nexaggeration, that a religion which would venture to desecrate or pull\ndown the venerable sanctuary of wedlock, and consequently to expose the\nweaker sex to degradation and oppression, would even thereby bespeak its\nown falsity, and renounce all pretensions to a divine origin. Wherever,\non the contrary, this noble institution and woman\u2019s dignity are\nacknowledged and respected, there this union of souls in consecrated\nlove operates, by the means of lasting personal intercourse, a\nreciprocal mental influence of the most diversified, salutary, and\nbeautiful kind. And this influence tends to promote the development not\nonly of the soul and character, but also of the mind or spirit.\nAccordingly in this, the first and the most intimate of all unions, all\nthe three principles of human existence--body, soul, and spirit, or\nmind--alike meet together, and partake of a common evolution. And the\nresult of this mutual influence relatively to the different characters\nof the mental capacities and consciousness of the two sexes, and the\ndevelopment of each produced thereby, forms, merely in its psychological\naspect, a remarkable and pregnant phenomenon. Consistently, therefore,\nwith the law I have proposed myself, in every case, to set out in my\ninvestigations from life itself, and from the very center thereof, I can\nnot well avoid, while treating of the several grades of the development\nof man\u2019s consciousness, to give some, though it must be but a partial,\nconsideration to this interesting topic.\n\nCongeniality of mind and temper forms, it is confessed, the sole basis\nof domestic peace and contentment, and of a happy, _i.e._, of a\nwell-assorted marriage. But to determine on what this depends, in each\nindividual case, is a problem which, considering the extremely great and\ninfinite varieties of human dispositions, admits not of a precise or\nparticular solution. On this point the closest observers are not\nunfrequently deceived in their predictions. How often do those agree\nvery well of whom previously it would not have been supposed possible?\nOn the contrary, those frequently live most unhappily together of whose\nblissful union the judgment of society and the ordinary estimate of\nhuman character had led to the most favorable anticipations.\nNevertheless, for the latter fact a general reason may be given. It is\nnot so much the similarity of tastes and pursuits, as, rather, the want\nin one of some mental quality possessed by the other, that forms the\nstrongest source of attraction between the two sexes, so that the inner\nlife or consciousness of the one finds its complement in that of the\nother, or, at least, receives from it a further development and\nelevation. For in the same way that a certain community of goods and\nproperty, even though not complete nor enforced by law, yet still, in\nsome measure and by daily use, does practically take place in\nwedlock--so, also, by the constant interchange of every thought and\nfeeling, a sort of community of consciousness is produced, which derives\nits charm and value from the very difference in the mental character of\nthe two sexes. When I would attempt to give a more precise determination\nof this difference, I feel how difficult and incomplete must be every\nattempt generally to define the varieties of mental character. And this\nis especially the case when men take in hand to paint the characters of\nwhole ages and nations, and by contrasts endeavor distinctly to limit\nand sharply to define them. Thus, for instance, the predominant element\nin the mental character of the Greeks is usually said to be\nintellect--comprising under this term every form and manifestation of\nit, the scientific as well as the artistic, profundity not less than\nacuteness, and vivid perspicuity, together with critical analysis; while\nenergy of will, strength of mind, and greatness of soul, are assigned to\nthe Romans as their distinguishing peculiarity. No doubt these\ndescriptions are not in general untrue. How many nicer limitations,\nhowever, and modifications must they undergo, if we are not to rest\ncontented with this historical antithesis and summary--which, no doubt,\nare correct enough, as far as they go--but desire, rather, to form in\nidea and to set down in words a full and complete image of these two\nnations in their whole intellectual life. So, too, as a general\ndescription of the middle ages, it might be said, with tolerable truth,\nthat in them fancy was predominant; while in modern times reason has\nbeen gradually becoming more and more paramount. But how many\nparticulars must be added in the latter case, if the truth of life is\nnot to be swallowed up in a general notion. But in a still higher degree\ndoes this observation apply, when we come to speak not merely of nations\nand eras, but of the mental differences of the two sexes. Such mere\noutlines must be given and taken for nothing more than what they really\nare, mere sketchy thoughts. However, they may often lead us farther,\ngiving rise occasionally to useful applications, or, at least, serving,\nnot seldom, to exclude a false and delusive semblance of a thought. To\nattempt, therefore, something of the kind, I would make the following\nremark, in which most voices will, I think, concur. Of the several\nfaculties or aspects of human consciousness previously described, soul\nappears to be most pre-eminent in the mental constitution of women; so\nthat the prophet who said that women have no soul proved himself thereby\na false prophet. For it is even this rich fullness of soul which\nmanifests itself in all their thoughts, and words, and deeds--that\nconstitutes the great charm of the social intercourse of civilized\nnations, as well as the winning attractiveness of their more familiar\nconversation, and in part, also, the harmonizing influence which they\nproduce on the mind in the more intimate union of wedded life.\nNevertheless, I think we should altogether miss the truth, if, from any\nlove of antithesis, we should go on to append the remark, that, in like\nmanner, mind [_geist_] generally predominates among men, and is commonly\nto be found in a higher degree among them than among women. For, in the\nfirst place, the measure both of natural capacity and also of acquired\nculture, not only in themselves, but also in the manifold spheres and\nmodes of their application, are so exceedingly different in different\nindividuals, that it is not easy to form therefrom any general and\ncharacteristic estimate of the whole sex. And just as it would be a most\nfalse exaggeration to deny to man altogether the possession of a soul\nwith its rich fullness of feeling, since it is only of its preponderance\namong the other sex that it is allowable to speak, so can we with as\nlittle justice refuse absolutely to attribute mind to woman, or at best\nascribe it to her only in a very limited degree. For even if the subtler\nabstractions of scientific reasoning are very rare among, and little\nsuited to them, still sound reason and judgment are only the more\ncommon. The understanding which women possess is not so much dry,\nobservant, cool, and calculating, as it is vivid and intuitively\npenetrating. And it is exactly this vividness of intellect that, when\nspeaking of individuals, we call mind or spirit.\n\nAnother line of thought will, perhaps, lead us more directly and nearer\nto the end we have in view. The external influence of women on the whole\nhuman community is, for the most part (for here, too, there are great\nand memorable exceptions) confined to a narrow sphere of the immediate\nduties of the affections, or to similar relations in the wider social\ncircle. So, too, is it inwardly as regards the consciousness. All the\nfaculties of women and their several manifestations lie, if I may so\nexpress myself, close together, and, as it were, in a friendly circle\naround the loving soul, as their common center. With regard, then, to\nthe comparison of the two sexes and their mental differences, I would\nventure to observe, that on the one side it seems to me that a certain\nharmonious fullness of the consciousness is the preponderating\ncharacter; and, on the other, its eccentric evolution. Not that I mean\nthat in the sex which is pre-eminently called to outward activity, the\nmind loses its grand center in the inner life, or, comet-like, delights\nto wander in vast, irregular orbits, as is, indeed, commonly enough\nasserted. My meaning is, simply, that the masculine mind will ever dare,\nas, indeed, it ought, to move in wider circles than the feminine. The\nextremes of the consciousness, if the expression be allowable--the\nfarthest poles both of reason and fancy--are, so to speak, the property\nof the more active sex; while the harmonious union and contact of both\nin the soul belong to the more sensitive. All such general and\ncharacteristic sketches, however, must always be most imperfect. Still I\nbelieve it may be safely and truly said, that, with highly-favored\ndispositions and noble natures (and these must be always supposed and\ntaken for the foundation of such general remarks), the gain to be\nderived from this intellectual community and influence, in which one\nindividual consciousness completes the other, must be sought in the one\nsex in a greater development of mind and elevation of soul, and in the\nother in a more harmonious adjustment and softening of the mental\npowers, and in a far more sensitive excitement of the soul\u2019s\nsusceptibilities. But in this most intimate of unions, when regarded as\ndivinely blessed, and when in reality it appears to be so, then on\neither side both mind and soul are, as it were, twice combined and\njoined together in closest association, and, if we may say so, even\nmarried and wedded together. Consequently, while external life derives\nfrom marriage its moral foundation and origin, the internal life of man\nis, as it were, mentally renewed by it, or fructified afresh and\nredoubled.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE III.\n\nOF THE SOUL\u2019S SHARE IN KNOWLEDGE; AND OF REVELATION.\n\n\nIn the first Lecture our attention was directed to the thinking soul as\nthe center of the whole human consciousness; while in the second, I\nattempted fully to set before you, and to delineate, the loving soul as\nthe true middle point of the moral life. The object of our present\ndisquisition will be to ascertain the part which the soul takes in the\nknowledge to which man is able to attain. The general element, indeed,\nwhich the soul furnishes as its contribution to human knowledge, is not\nindeed very difficult to determine; but when we come to details, there\nis much that requires to be well weighed and pondered.\n\nNow, the soul furnishes the cognitive mind with language for the\nexpression of its cognitions; and it is even the distinctive character\nof human knowledge, that it depends on language, which not only forms an\nessential constituent of it, but is also its indispensable organ.\nLanguage, however, the discursive, but at the same time also the vividly\nfigurative language of man, is entirely the product of the soul, which\nin its production first of all, and pre-eminently, manifests its\nfruitful and creative energy. In this wonderful creation the two\nconstituent faculties of the soul--fancy and reason--play an equal and\nco-ordinate part. From the fancy it derives the whole of its figurative\nand ornamental portion, and also its melodious rhythm and animated tone.\nAnd, moreover, its inmost fundamental web and the primary natural roots\nbelong also to man\u2019s original deep feeling of sympathy with outward\nnature, and therefore to fancy, unless perhaps some would prefer to\nascribe them at once to the soul itself, as still more profoundly and\nintimately akin to nature. To the reason, on the other hand, language\nowes its logical order, and its grammatical forms and laws of\nconstruction. Which part is the more important, or more highly to be\nesteemed, is a question whose solution will vary according to the point\nof view which in any case may be adopted as fundamental, or to the\ndifferent relations under which the whole shall be considered. Both\nelements, however, are equally essential and indispensable. In all the\ninstances already considered of the reciprocal relation of reason and\nfancy we found almost invariably a decided preponderance of one or the\nother; but neither there nor elsewhere will reason and fancy be found\ncombining in such harmonious proportions, or working so thoroughly\ntogether, or contributing so equally to the common product, as in the\nwonderful production of language, and in language itself. And this is\nthe case, not only with language in general, but also with all its\nspecies and noblest applications. Now this dependence of the cognitive\nmind on its organ of language, discursive indeed, but yet almost always\nfigurative--this close and intimate connection between man\u2019s knowledge\nand his speech--is even the characteristic mark of human intelligence.\nBut the fault of most of the mere speculative thinkers lies even in\nthis, that they abandon the standard of humanity, by seeking to wrest,\nand to conquer an unhuman, if we may so say, _i.e._, a wholly\nindependent and absolute knowledge, which, however, it is not in their\npower to attain to, and in pursuit of which they lose the certainty\nwhich lies within their reach, and so at last grasp nothing but an\nabsolute not-knowing, or an endless controversy. If, as we can not but\nsuppose, a communication does take place among those spiritual beings,\nwho in intelligence are preferred to man, then must the immediate speech\nof these spirits be very different from our half-sensuous half-rational,\nhalf-earthly half-heavenly language of nature and humanity. For, even as\nspiritual, it can not but be immediate--never employing figure and those\ngrammatical forms which human language first analyzes, to form again out\nof them new and fresh compounds. According to the two properties which\nconstitute the essence of mind [_geist_], it can only be a\ncommunication, a transmission, an awakening or immission of\nthought--some wholly definite thought--by the will, or else the\ncommunicating, exciting, and producing by the thought of some equally\ndefinite volition. It may be that something of this, or at least\nsomething not absolutely dissimilar, occurs in human operations. It is\npossible that this immediate language of mind, as a secret and invisible\nprinciple of life--as a rare and superior element--is contained also in\nhuman language, and, as it were, veiled in the outer body, which,\nhowever, becomes visible only in the effects of a luminous and lofty\neloquence, in which is displayed the magic force of language and of a\nruling and commanding thought. Taken on the whole, however, human\nspeech is no such immediate and magically-working language of mind or\nspirit. It is rather a figurative language of nature, in which its great\npermanent hieroglyphics are mirrored again in miniature, and in rapid\nsuccession. And it retains this natural and figurative character even in\nthe ordinary form of rational dialogue, which must observe so many\nvarieties and details of grammar, of which superior intelligences have\nno need for their immediate intercommunion, but in which, as in all\nother human things, many greater or less grammatical oversights creep in\nand give rise to important consequences in science and thought, and also\nin life itself. But in the next place, language is intimately connected\nand co-ordinate with tradition, whether sacred or profane, with all the\nrecorded fruits of human speculation and inquiry. And as the word is the\nroot out of which the whole stem of man\u2019s transmitted knowledge, or\ntradition, has grown up, with all its branches and offshoots, so, too,\nin the eloquent speech, in the elegant composition, and even in all\nlofty internal meditation--which form, as it were, the leaves, flowers,\nand fruits of this goodly tree of living tradition--it is again the word\nby which the whole is carried on and ultimately perfected.\n\nBut now, in order to develop still more completely, and more accurately\nto ascertain the part which the soul, as the creator of language,\ncontributes to human cognition and knowledge, it will be necessary to\nexamine nicely the essence of reason, and especially in relation to its\ncollateral and closely-connected, but subordinate faculties. Above all,\nit will be advisable to determine, as accurately and carefully as\npossible, the difference between reason and understanding. For otherwise\nits proper share in this common fruit and joint product of human\nknowledge can not be ascribed to each power of mind and to each faculty\nof the soul, nor their proper places and due limits in the whole be\nseverally assigned.\n\nThe faculties, then, of the soul, which stand in the same close\nrelationship to the reason that the senses and the instincts or passions\ndo to the fancy, are memory and conscience. Now, memory may be\nconsidered either as a gift, according to its greater or less power of\ncomprehension and retention, or as an art to strengthen and facilitate\nits operations by artificial means of every kind, or as a problem to\ndetermine how far the exercise of it constitutes an essential part of\nman\u2019s intellectual culture and development. But it is not in any of\nthese points of view that we have here to consider it, but simply in its\nessential conjunction with the reason and rationality, which appear to\nbe dependent on this union.\n\nIn other words, we have to regard the memory principally as the inward\nclew of recollection and of association in the consciousness, in the\never-flowing stream of thought and interchange of ideas. We may, or, I\nmight rather say, we must, forget infinitely many things. But this\nconnecting thread of memory being once broken, or destroyed, or lost,\nthe reason invariably suffers with it, and is injured, or its exercise\nlimited, or, lastly, is rendered totally confused and extinct. Whenever,\nin the extreme decrepitude of old age, memory fails, reason ceases in an\nequal degree to be active and energetic, and is supplanted by more or\nless of a foolish doting. In sleep, no doubt, consciousness is regularly\ninterrupted, but still it is immediately restored again on awaking. If\nthe contrary were to take place, if, as is the foundation of many an\ningenious story among the poets, when suddenly awakened we could not\nrecall our former memory and our knowledge, then should we be\ncontinually falling into mistakes about ourselves and lose all identity\nof consciousness. Some such violent interruption or rent in the inward\nmemory of self-consciousness is invariably to be found in madness, and\nis a leading symptom of it. And here I would merely call upon you to\nobserve a further illustration of what has been already more than once\npointed out. The triple principle of body, soul, and spirit is again\nrepeated and manifested even in this sad state of mental alienation, and\nin all its different forms and species. In true lunacy or\nmonomania--which is generally harmless and quiet--a radically false but\nfixed idea is often associated, and is not inconsistent with an\nextraordinary shrewdness on all other points. Nevertheless, this fixed\nerroneous idea, being made the center of all other thoughts and of the\nwhole consciousness, produces that confusion and that disorganization of\nthe mind which characterizes this form of a disordered intellect. But in\ntrue madness, or frenzy, the seat of the disease is in the soul, which,\nhaving broken loose from all the ties and restraints of reason and\nrational habit, appears to have fallen a prey to some hostile, wild, and\nraging force of nature. In idiotcy, lastly, especially where it is\ninborn and conjoined with the perfection of the external organs of\nsense, we must assume the existence of some faulty organization, some\ndefect in the brain, or whatever else is the unknown but higher organ\nboth of thought and life. The source of the last is altogether physical\nand corporeal, whereas moral causes often co-operate in the highest\ndegree to the production of the former two. The deaf and dumb, if left\nwholly to themselves, would, in all probability, belong always to the\nthird class, since, with the loss of speech they are simultaneously\ndeprived of a leading condition of rationality. And, accordingly, the\nfirst object with those who undertake the difficult task of training\nthese unfortunate beings is to furnish them with another language, by\nmeans of signs, instead of the ordinary audible speech of which the\naccident of birth has deprived them. This instance, therefore, is only a\nfurther confirmation of what I have already advanced, that the\nintellectual character is, in every respect, most intimately dependent\non the faculty of speech. A more minute examination of these matters\nbelongs to physical science. Nevertheless, our passing remark on the\ntriple character of this psychological evil, or misfortune, will not, I\nhope, be found inappropriate here, as affording, even in this narrow and\nspecial sphere of a disordered intellect, a further illustration of the\ngeneral principle of our theory of the human consciousness.\n\nNow, the outer and especially the higher senses may, by reason of the\nsupremacy of the fancy, to which they are subordinate, be termed, with\npropriety, so many applied faculties of imagination. In the same way we\nmight give the same designation to the inclinations and impulses--the\ngood as well as the evil--if, perhaps, it would not be more accurate to\nname them an imagination passed into life. In a similar way the memory\nmay be considered as an applied reason which in the application has\nbecome quite mechanical and habitual; for unquestionably the logical\narrangement is the chief quality in memory. From this it derives both\nits value and scientific utility. On the other hand, there are certain\nacquired mental aptitudes which, though originally they can not be\nformed without the voluntary exercise of memory, become at last a\ncompletely unconscious and mechanical operation--the facility, for\ninstance, of learning by heart, or the acquisition of foreign languages,\nor catching up of musical tunes. In all these the reason has become an\ninstinct, just as the instinct of animals, their artistic impulse and\nskill, may be designated an unconscious analogy of reason.\n\nIn this subordinate faculty of the memory, the reason, agreeably to its\nspecific character, exhibits itself as a useful and ministering agent.\nIn conscience, on the contrary, as its highest function, it assumes a\nsomewhat negative character. But in both relations, whether as a\nministerial or negative faculty of thought, the reason, in its place, is\nof the highest value. If occasionally we have seemed to detract from and\nto limit its importance, such remarks have been called forth by the\nundue and overweening authority which the present age would claim for\nthe reason. This is the sole end and meaning of our opposition, which is\ndirected exclusively against that spurious reason which claims to be\nsupreme, and arrogates to itself a productive power; whereas, in truth,\nit ought not to be the one, and can never be the other. The thought\nwhich distinguishes, divides, and analyzes, and that also which\ncombines, infers, and concludes--which, as such, make up the faculty of\nreason--may be so carried on in indefinite and infinite process, as\nultimately to get entirely rid of its object-matter. It is this endless\nthinking, without a correspondent object, that is the source of\nscientific error, which, as in all cases it arises solely out of this\nvacuum in thinking, can only lead to a thinking of nothing--a cogitation\nabsolutely null and false. Far different is the case where a memory,\nstored with the rich materials of intellectual experience, forms the\nuseful basis of man\u2019s studies and pursuits, or where, as is the case\nwith the apperception of the conscience, the object, even while it is\nless extensive and manifold, is the more highly and more intensely\nimportant. Now, as the reason generally is not only a combining and\nconnecting, but also a distinguishing faculty of thought, so likewise\nthe conscience is a similar power of drawing distinctions in the thought\nand in the internal consciousness, though in a higher and special\ndegree, and also in a different form from that which, in all other\ninstances, is discursive reason. For it is by a simple feeling and\nimmediate perception that the conscience, in obedience to the voice\nwithin man, draws between right and wrong, or good and evil, the\ngreatest of all distinctions. This voice of conscience, while it makes\nitself heard among all nations, nevertheless, under the ever and\nwidely-varying influence of ruling ideas of the age, and of education,\nand of custom, speaks in different times and places, in differing tones\nand dialects. But these differences extend only to subordinate matters.\nThe primary and essential point remains unchanged and never to be\nmistaken; the same dominant tone and key-note sounds through all these\nvariations--the common tongue and language of human nature and of an\nuntaught and innate fear of God. This fact has led many to regard the\nconscience as the principal source of all higher and divine truth; with\nwhom I can readily concur, so long as they do not mean thereby that it\nis the only source, to the exclusion of every other.\n\nNow it is surely significant that in German--and all languages furnish\nnumerous instances of such significant allusions--the word and the name\nof reason[17] is derived from that internal perception of the conscience\nwhich constitutes its highest function. What, then, it may be asked, is\nperceived by this wonderful perception, that before it the will inwardly\nretires and withdraws even its earlier and most cherished wishes? The\nwarning voice it is called, in every age and nation. It is, as it were,\none who within us warns and remonstrates. It is not, therefore, our own\nMe, but as it were another, and, as a vague feeling would suggest, of a\nhigher and a different nature. And now by its light that earlier and\nretiring will appears in like manner as another self--a lower false and\nseducing Ego--an alien power which would hurry away ourselves and our\nproper Me. But between the two--this higher warning voice on the one\nhand, and this constraining, compelling force on the other--there stands\na power which is free to decide between them. And this, as soon as the\ndecomposing process is finished, which in the as yet undecided will, or\nits mixed states, separates and distinguishes between the good voice and\nthe evil inclination--remains to us as our own Ego and our proper self.\nThis inward voice, and the immediate perception of it, is an anchor on\nwhich the vessel of man\u2019s existence rides safely on the stormy sea of\nlife, and the ebb and the flow of the will. In other words, it is a\ndivine focus, or a sacred stay of truth. But further, it must be\nobserved, that the understanding of this inner perception, as I have\njust painted it, does not belong to the reason, to which alone the\nperceiving can itself be ascribed. The true intelligence thereof--its\nhigher interpretation, and explanation, which adds to it, or recognizes\nin it a reference to the divine--must, even because it is an\nintellectual act, be ascribed to the understanding.\n\nThe present, therefore, is the place for a close and accurate\ninvestigation of the difference between reason and understanding--a\nquestion of the highest importance for the whole theory of the\nconsciousness, and its true philosophical interpretation, as well as\nabsolutely for every branch of science. For this purpose I shall follow\na line of thought somewhat unusual, perhaps, but which on that account\nis even the more likely to carry us quickly to the desired end, and to\nplace the distinction in a full and clear light. I lately employed the\nsomewhat hypothetical comparison between man and a superior order of\nintelligences, as a means of illustrating the faculty of the fancy as\nthe peculiar property of the human consciousness. And now I would go a\nstep higher, and from the acknowledged characteristics of the divine\nintelligence, derive the means of determining the different functions of\nthe human consciousness, and of setting the relations they stand in, not\nonly to one another, but also to a superior intellect. In this course,\nhowever, I shall take nothing for granted but what is well known and\ngenerally intelligible. That God is a Spirit, is the concurrent voice of\nall men, wherever a belief in the one God is professed, or the idea of a\nDivine Being is diffused. God is a Spirit, and therefore an omniscient\nintellect and an all-mighty will are unanimously attributed to Him. This\naxiom, with which a child even of the most ordinary intelligence can\nassociate some kind of meaning, is at the same time the fundamental\nprinciple which is involved in all that the deepest thinker can know of\nGod. The same faculties, therefore, that make up the essence and the two\nfunctions of created spirits--understanding and will--may, without\nhesitation, be attributed to the uncreated Spirit; and although this\nattribution must be understood according to the exalted standard of the\ninfinite distance between the creature and the Creator, still it is made\nproperly and not merely by way of figure.\n\nBut now, in Holy Writ, and in the language of pious adoration and\nprayer, among other nations as well as the Jewish, a multitude of\nproperties, faculties, and senses are ascribed to the Deity in perfectly\nanthropomorphic descriptions and imagery. Thus mention is even made of\nHis eye, His ear, His guiding hand, His mighty arm, and the omnipotent\nbreath of His mouth. In so far as these are admitted to be mere images\nthere can be no objection to them, and it is not easy to see how they\ncan lead to any abuse. And this is equally the case even with such\nexpressions as it is plain can only be applicable to the Deity in a\nfigurative sense--for instance, when human passions are ascribed to\nHim--since, if employed properly and literally, they all involve more or\nless of imperfection. And in the same way, where no forgetfulness is\npossible or conceivable, it can only be in a figurative sense that it is\nallowable to speak of memory. And with still less propriety can the\nfaculty of conscience, in its human sense, be ascribed to God. His\nbalance of justice--His regulative thought--is something very different\nfrom our mere sense of right. To ascribe conscience to the Deity would\nbe to confound the judge on the bench with the criminal at the bar. Even\nthe first man, as long as he was yet innocent, knew not conscience. For\nthe sense of guilt, and the faculty of perceiving it, must at the very\nearliest have come simultaneously with the transgression itself, if it\nwas not, rather, consequent upon it. In the application to the Deity of\nsuch figurative language, great license is of course allowable. The\nquestion, however, which concerns us in a philosophical point of view is\nwhether, in the same proper sense as understanding and will, so also the\nother faculties which are so peculiarly distinctive of man--reason and\nfancy, or the soul--can be attributed to the Divine Being. Now it is at\nonce evident that, far beyond all other figurative expressions, it would\nbe perfectly unsuitable to ascribe fancy to God. We feel clearly enough\nthat by so doing we should be leaving the safe ground of truth for the\ntreacherous domain of mythology. That inner mine of intellectual riches\nwhich man in his weak measure finds in the faculty of fancy, is, in the\ncase of the Divine Being, furnished once and for all by His omnipotent\nwill; which of itself creates and produces its object, and, unlike\ncreated beings, is not confined to any limited data or to a choice\nbetween them. Here, then, the Almighty will itself is the full fatherly\nheart--embracing, nourishing, and sustaining all creatures--or even the\nliving maternal womb of eternal generation, and requires no new and\nspecial faculty for this end. In the next place, as to the soul: the\nexpression of the soul of God does, indeed, occur in some of the less\nknown Christian writers of the first centuries of the church, but it\nsoon fell into disuse--from a fear, probably, of its leading to a\nconfusion of idea, and being identified with a mere soul of the world.\nBut however that may be, the soul is simply a passive faculty, and\ntherefore, on that account alone, is highly inappropriate as applied to\nGod. That third property which in the Divine nature is associated with\nan omniscient intelligence or understanding, and an omnipotent will, can\nnot be called the soul of God, but is even the spirit of love, in which\nboth understanding and will unite and are one. And if this third\nproperty be added to the axiomatic definition of the Deity already\nalluded to, then in the proposition, God is a spirit of love, the double\npredicate in its essential import involves all that man in general, and\neven the profoundest thinker, can properly know of God. All besides is a\nmere expansion or elucidation of this primary and fundamental thought.\nMoreover, if it is not allowable to ascribe fancy or a soul to God, so\nneither can He be spoken of as possessing reason as an essential faculty\nin the same proper sense as understanding and will are attributed to\nHim. God is indeed the author of reason; and the sound reason is even\nthat which adheres to the center of truth, as He, in creating it,\ndesigned and ordered. But from this it does not by any means follow that\nHe is himself the reason which He has created, or that He is even one\nwith it. Were it so, then the advocates of absolute science, the\nrationalists, would be in the right; in such a case, the knowledge of\nGod were in truth a science of reason, inasmuch as like can only be\nknown by like.\n\nBut now, if it be not reason, but rather understanding, that, with the\nco-operation of all the other faculties both of soul and spirit, is the\nproper organ for acquiring a knowledge of the divine, and the only means\nby which man can arrive at a right apprehension thereof; then is the\nknowledge of God simply and entirely a science of experience, although\nof a high and peculiar kind, by reason of the finiteness and frailty of\nman as compared with such an object. As the fancy is the apprehension or\nseizing of an object, the reason a combination or distinction, so the\nunderstanding is the faculty which penetrates, and, in its highest\ndegree, clearly sees through its object. We understand a phenomenon, a\nsensation, an object, when we have discerned its inmost meaning, its\npeculiar character and proper significance. And the same is the case\neven when this object be a speech and communication addressed to us--a\nword or discourse given us to extract its meaning. If we have discerned\nthe design which is involved in such a communication, its real meaning\nand purpose, then may we be said to have understood it, even though some\nminuti\u00e6 in the expression may still remain unintelligible, which, as not\nbelonging essentially to the whole, we put aside and leave unconsidered.\nThere are, therefore, many steps and degrees in understanding--very\ndifferent phases and species of it. A familiar instance will, perhaps,\nelucidate this matter. We will suppose the case of an extremely rare and\nremarkable, or, perhaps, hitherto wholly unknown, plant, brought to our\ncountry from a foreign clime. The naturalist, having examined its\nstructure and organs, assigns it to a particular class of the higher\nbotanical genera, where it either belongs to some lower species or forms\nan exception. The chemist, again, when the plant is brought before his\nnotice, conjectures, from certain other characters, that it is formed of\nsuch or such elementary parts; while the physician, on other grounds,\nconcludes that in certain diseases it will probably serve as a remedy,\nequally if not more efficacious than other herbs or roots previously\nemployed for that purpose. Now, if the two last have judged correctly,\nif their conjectures be confirmed by trial and experiment, then will all\nthe three have understood the plant, and each in his own department have\nlearned and discerned its intrinsic character. Again: how slowly, step\nby step and gradually, do men attain to the understanding of some\nancient, foreign, and difficult language. It commences, perhaps, with\nthe long and difficult deciphering of a manuscript or inscription, with\nan alphabet incomplete or imperfectly known, and after much painful\nlabor the final discovery of its true meaning is made perhaps by some\nfortunate accident which all at once throws a full light upon it. A\nremarkable instance, in our own days, will both elucidate the matter,\nand serve at the same time to prove how a higher Providence regulates\neven the progress of science. For more than a millenium and a half had\nthe hieroglyphics of an ancient race remained unintelligible to and\nundeciphered by a posterity of aliens, when at last, amid the recent\ncommotions and tempests of the political world, a happy accident brought\nthe secret to light. Who can forget the brilliant and dazzling\nexpectations which hailed the departure of the French expedition for\nEgypt? How was all Europe electrified at the bold project of planting at\nthe foot of the Pyramids a colony of European art and civilization. The\nenterprise itself failed, and was soon forgotten amid still more\nimportant events and greater revolutions; and the humble monument with\nits triple inscription, which was carried away from Egypt, is all, if we\nmay so speak, that remains of it. But that has unquestionably founded a\ngreat epoch in the peaceful empire of science.[18] For a whole\ngeneration the learned labored to decipher it with but slow and very\nimperfect success, when at last a happy coincidence presents itself, and\nsuddenly the key is found. And although of the seven hundred secret\nsymbols, scarcely more than one hundred are as yet made out, still even\nthese have opened a wide vista into the spacious domain of the dark\n_origines_ of man\u2019s history. And this was effected at a time when man\nhad just learned to put together a few characters of the great alphabet\nof nature, and here and there to decipher a word or two of its\nhieroglyphical language, while at the same time streams of historical\nknowledge began to flow down from the remotest antiquity of the human\nrace, confirming and setting in the clearest light the best of all that\nwe had before possessed, and exciting a hope that we might, perhaps, be\nalso able to understand the obscure hieroglyphics of our own age, and\nthe fearful war of minds which is commencing in it.\n\nSuch is the course of things, or, rather, the higher Providence that\nrules therein; and it was to this, chiefly, that I wished to call your\nattention by this digression. Thus slow and gradual, but permanent, are\nthe progressive steps in the growth and development of true human\nscience, which is founded on experience--the internal as well as\nexternal, the higher as well as the lower--and on tradition, language,\nand revelation. But, on the contrary, that false, or, as I termed it at\nthe outset, that unhuman and absolute knowledge, as it pretends to\nembrace all at once, and by one step to place us in full possession of\nthe whole sum of human knowledge, so, ever fluctuating between being and\nnon-being, it soon dissolves into thin air, and leaves nothing behind\nbut a baseless void of absolute non-knowing. Ill would it fare with the\nknowledge of God and of divine things, if they were left to be\ndiscovered, and, as it were, first established by human reason. Even\nthough, in such a case, the intellectual edifice were never so well\nbuilt and compact, still, as it had originally issued out of man\u2019s\nthoughts, it would be ever shaking before the doubt whether it were any\nthing better than an idea, or had any reality out of the human mind.\n\nFor this doubt is the foundation of all idealism, to which, often\nrecurring under differing forms of error, it does but give a fresh\ncreation and new shape. Even from this side, consequently, it is\napparent that no living certainty and complete reality is attainable by\nit. Easy, in truth, were it from this position to evolve the ideas of\nthe illimitable, and the infinite, and the absolute; and of such\ndevelopments there is no lack. But they are at best but pure negations,\nwhich do not serve in the least to explain that which is most necessary\nfor us to understand. Curious, indeed, should I be to see the process by\nwhich, out of this pet metaphysical idea of the absolute, any one\npositive notion of God--His patience, for example, and long-suffering--is\nto be deduced. Strange, too, must be the way in which alone it could\ncarry out the proof that the absolute Deity, or as man prefers, it\nseems, to say, _the Absolute_, can not dispense with the possession of\nthis attribute of patience, on which, however, before all others, it is\nimportant for man to insist. Moreover, this character of absoluteness\nis applied to the Deity in a manner which is altogether false and\nerroneous. That God, in the mode of his existence, is unlimited--that\nthe First Cause is not dependent on, and can not be qualified by any\nother being, is self-evident, and is nothing but a mere identical\nproposition. But this character does not admit of being applied to\nhis inner essence, or His essential attributes in relation to man and\nthe whole creation. Wo to all men, nay, we might rather say, wo to\nall created beings, if God were really absolute--if, for instance,\nHis justice, which, however, is the first and principal of all His\nattributes, were not manifoldly modified, limited, and conditioned by\nHis goodness, His mercy, and His patience. Before such a justice of\nGod, if it were at once to make such an unconditional manifestation of\nitself, the whole world in terror would sink in dust and ashes. But it\nis not so. Man does hope--he must believe--ay, we may go on and add,\nman does know, that the divine justice is not unconditional, but is in\nan eminent degree limited by His fatherly love and goodness.\n\nNo doubt, too, it must not, on the other hand, be forgotten, that the\ndivine love and grace are also conditioned by the attribute of justice,\nwhat, however, in a certain effeminate theology of a recent day, seems\nto have been totally overlooked. However, this grave error of a too\nsentimental view of divine things is now pretty generally recognized as\nsuch, and, for the most part, abandoned. Moreover, it does not properly\nlie within the scope of our present disquisition. Now, the position that\nthe justice and the grace of God mutually limit each other, involves\nnothing unintelligible, or, in this sense, inconceivable; as, however,\nis the case with the baseless phantom of the absolute, where the empty\nphrase becomes only the more unintelligible the more frequently it is\nrepeated. How much more correct, in this respect, were the definitions\nand distinctions of the great philosophers of antiquity, especially the\nPythagoreans. With them the limitless and the indeterminate were even\nthe imperfect and the evil, and the former they regarded as the\ncharacteristic marks of the latter; while the fixedly definite and\npositive, which forms the very heart and core of personality, was with\nthem identical with the good: and unquestionably, God\u2019s personality--the\nfundamental notion, the proper and universal dogma of every religion\nthat acknowledges the one true God--is the true center around which the\nwhole inquiry revolves. For the question is, whether philosophy, while\nit allows this idea to stand indeed externally, and apparently--for even\nin Germany only one has been found bold enough to deny it expressly and\nwithout reserve--intends all the while to put it quietly aside, and\nsecretly to entomb it by refusing to see in it any thing more than an\nillusion of the natural feelings. The point at issue is whether, by so\nteaching, philosophy is to come into direct collision with one of man\u2019s\nmost universal and deeply-rooted feelings, and to produce an eternal\nschism--an irreconcilable discord--not only between science and faith,\nbut even between science and life. For to unsettle life, is even the\nnecessary result of rationalism.\n\nBut let us now turn from the \u201c_Absolute_\u201d of reason to the personal God\nof the believers among all peoples and times. If, now, the knowledge of\nGod be not a discovery of the reason, whose proper office is to analyze\nand investigate--if, on the contrary, we are only able to understand of\nHim so much as is given and imparted to us, then the matter assumes\nquite another aspect. If God has conferred a knowledge of Himself upon\nman--if He has spoken to him, has revealed Himself to him--as is the\ncommon tradition of all ancient nations, the more unanimously\ncorroborated the older they are--then is the power to understand this\ndivine communication given together and at the same time with it, even\nthough we should be forced to allow that this intellectual capacity be\nlimited by human frailty and extremely imperfect. To take our estimate\nof it as low as possible, we will conceive it to be something like the\ndegree of intelligence with which a child eighteen months old\nunderstands its mother. Much it does not understand at all; other things\nit mistakes, or perhaps does not fully attend to, and its answers, too,\nare not much to the purpose; but something, nevertheless, it does\nunderstand--this we see clearly enough. On this point we should not be\nlikely to be led astray, even though the theorist should wish to raise a\ndoubt on the matter, by attempting to prove that the child could not\nproperly understand its mother, since for that purpose it would be\nnecessary for it to have previously learned thoroughly and methodically\nthe elements of grammar. We believe, however, what, indeed, we see, that\nman\u2019s power of understanding divine things is really very imperfect. For\nthe relation between the child a year and a half old and its mother\ncompletely represents that of man to God, with the more than\nhalf-imperfect organs that are given him for this purpose--with his so\nmanifoldly limited mind or spirit, which is a spark of heavenly light,\nindeed, but still only a spark--a drop out of the ocean of the infinite\nwhole--and, moreover, with his half-soul. For half-soul we may and must\ncall it in this respect, since with the one half it is turned to the\nearth, and still wholly fraternizes with the sensible world; while with\nthe other it is directed to, and is percipient of, the divine. But such\na childlike and humble docility will not satisfy the proud reason, and\nso it is ever turning again to the other absolute road of a false,\nimaginary, and unhuman knowledge. Fundamentally, however, those two\nwords,[19] which alone man can be certain of with respect to God, would,\nsince God invariably imparts to every creature its due measure, be quite\nenough, if only man would always rightly apply and faithfully preserve\nthem.\n\nNow, to this first hypothesis we might append the further\nquestion:--supposing that God has imparted a knowledge of Himself to\nmankind--has spoken to them, and revealed Himself to them--is it not\nhighly probable that He has ordained some institution for the further\npropagation and diffusion of revealed truth, and also for the\nmaintenance as well of its original integrity as also of the right\ninterpretation of it? But I must content myself with merely advancing\nthis question. I can not attempt to prosecute it in the present place;\nfor its further consideration would carry us out of the established\nlimits of philosophy into the domain of history, and it involves,\nmoreover, the positive articles of faith.\n\nBut the previous question, whether the knowledge of God, which we either\npossess or are capable of possessing, be a science of absolute reason,\nor rather an understanding of given data, and consequently a science of\nexperience, and resting, ultimately, on revelation--this certainly falls\nwithin the scope of philosophical investigation. Indeed, it forms the\nchiefest and most essential problem of philosophy, inasmuch as it is\nproperly the very question of _being_ and _non-being_--of a true and\nhuman, or of an empty and imaginary science--that is here to be decided.\nOn this account, a precise and correct phraseology is of the utmost\nimportance toward a right solution of this leading topic of\nphilosophical inquiry. Now, it is a fact deserving of remark, and well\ncalculated to arrest our attention, that nowhere in Holy Writ, nowhere\nin all antiquity, or in any of the great teachers and philosophers of\nolden time, is there any mention made of God\u2019s reason--but universally\nit is intelligence or understanding, an omniscient intelligence that is\nascribed to Him. The wrongful interchange of the two words was reserved\nexclusively for our modern times, and for the epoch of the absolute rule\nof reason, and of the worse than Babylonish confusion of scientific\nterms which has arisen out of it. The only exceptions from the previous\nremark, which may be found in antiquity, are confined to one or two of\nthe Stoics. But when we reflect how greatly their whole chapter on the\nDeity labors under the evil influence of that doctrine of an inevitable\nnecessity and blind fate, which forms the reproach of the whole Stoical\ntheory, this apparent exception serves to confirm the general rule, that\na wrong use of language invariably has its source in a rationalistic\nbasis of speculation, or, perhaps, is itself the spring and occasion of\nthat erroneous point of view. God is unquestionably the author of\nreason. If, therefore, any one be disposed to call the divine order of\nthings (which, however, is not the Deity himself) a divine reason, this\nis a mere matter of indifference. Only in such a case the question to\nbe agitated would not involve the mere expression, but rather the\nmeaning which is associated with it. But, for my part, I should prefer\nto avoid a mode of speaking which might give rise to great\nmisconception. And this is the more desirable the more needful it is at\nall times carefully to distinguish between the true and sound reason and\nits contrary. God is the author of the sound reason, _i.e._, of the\nreason which follows and is obedient to the divine order. But the other,\nthe rebellious reason, has for its source that spirit of negation which\nevery where opposes God, and has drawn so great a part of creation after\nhim in his fall. For, having lost his true center, and finding none in\nhimself, that evil spirit, with indescribable desire and raging\npassionateness, seeks to find one in the disordered world of sense, and\nin its noblest ornament--even in the soul of man, the very jewel of\ncreation. And this is even the origin of the rebellious reason. And it\nis rebellious even because having wandered from its center in the loving\nsoul, which again has its center in God, it has thrown off the obedience\nof love, that holy bond which retains the soul in subjection to the\ndivine order. How far in the present day, amid the fermenting\nrationalistic medley which constitutes the spirit of the age, that sound\nreason which willingly follows and observes the divine order, or that\nrebellious reason which is absolute in itself, has the upper hand, and\nforms the predominant element, is a question easy of solution. It is one\nwhich I am content to leave to the decision of all who are in any degree\nacquainted with the prevailing tone of science and of life.\n\nThe philosophy which I have here undertaken to develop, setting out from\nthe soul as the beginning and first subject of its speculations,\ncontemplates the mind or spirit as its highest and supreme object.\nAccordingly, in its doctrine of the Deity, directly opposing every\nrationalistic tendency, it conceives of Him and represents him as a\nliving spirit, a personal God, and not merely as an absolute reason, or\na rational order. If, therefore, for the sake of distinction, it\nrequires some peculiar and characteristic designation, it might, in\ncontrast with those errors of Materialism and Idealism which I have\ndescribed and condemned, be very aptly termed Spiritualism. But our\ndoctrine is not any such system of reason as the others pretend to be.\nIt is an inward experimental science of a higher order. Such a\ndesignation, consequently, bespeaking as it does, a pretension of\nsystem, is not very appropriate, and is, at all events, superfluous. It\nis best indicated by a simple name, such as we have given it in calling\nit a philosophy of life.\n\nMoreover, the revelation by which God makes himself known to man, does\nnot admit of being limited exclusively to the written word. Nature\nitself is a book written on both sides, both within and without, in\nevery line of which the finger of God is discernible. It is, as it were,\na Holy Writ in visible form and bodily shape--a song of praise on the\nCreator\u2019s omnipotence composed in living imagery. But besides Scripture\nand nature--those two great witnesses to the greatness and majesty of\nGod--there is in the voice of conscience nothing less than a divine\nrevelation within man. This is the first awakening call to the two other\nlouder and fuller proclamations of revealed truth. And, lastly, in\nuniversal history we have set before us a real and manifold application\nand progressive development of revelation. Here the luminous threads of\na divine and higher guidance glimmer through the remarkable events of\nhistory. For, not only in the career of whole ages and nations, but also\nin the lives of individuals, the ruling and benignant hand of Providence\nis every where visible.\n\nFourfold, consequently, is the source of revelation, from which man\nderives his knowledge of the Deity, learns his will, and understands his\noperation and power--conscience, nature, Holy Writ, and universal\nhistory. The teaching of the latter is often of that earnest and awful\nkind, to which we may, in a large sense, apply the adage, \u201cWho will not\nlearn must feel.\u201d How often does it show us some mighty edifice of\nfortune, which, having no firm basis in the deep soil of truth and the\ndivine order, owed its rapid growth and false splendor to some evil\ninfluence, falling suddenly in ruins, as if stricken by the invisible\nbreath of a superior power. On such occasions the public feeling\nrecognizes the hand which sets a limit to every temerity in the history\nof the world--to every extravagance of a false confidence--and appoints\nit its ultimate term. And the olden notion (which, with men of the day,\nhad become little more than an antiquated legend) of God\u2019s retributive\njustice, resumes its place among the actuating sentiments of life, with\nnew and intense significance. The sublime truth, however, is only too\nsoon forgotten, and the temporary alarm subsides but too quickly into\nthe habitual calm of a false security--that old and hereditary feeling\nof human nature.\n\nThe volume of Holy Writ, as it is transmitted to us, and was first\ncommenced about three-and-thirty centuries ago, does not exclude the\npossibility of an earlier sacred tradition in the twenty-four centuries\nwhich preceded it. So far, indeed, is the supposition of such an\noriginal revelation from being inconsistent with Scripture, that, on the\ncontrary, it contains explicit allusions to the fact, that such a\nmanifold enlightenment was imparted to the first man, as well as to that\npatriarch who, after the destruction of the primeval world of giants,\nwas the second progenitor of mankind. But as this divine knowledge,\nderived immediately from the primary source of all illumination, flowed\ndown in free and unconfined channels to succeeding generations, and to\nthe different nations which branched off from the parent stock, the\noriginal sacred traditions were soon disfigured and overloaded with\nfictions and fables. In these, however, a rich abundance of remarkable\nvestiges and precious germs of divine truth were mixed up with\nBacchanalian rites and immoral mysteries. And thus, amid a multitude of\nsensuous and stimulating images, the pure and simple truth was buried,\nas in a second chaos, under a mass of contradictory symbols. Hence arose\nthat Babylonish confusion of languages, emblems, and legends, which is\nuniversally to be met with among ancient, and even the most primitive\nnations. In the great work, therefore, of purification, and of a\nrestoration of true religion (which we may call a second revelation, or,\nat least, as a second stage thereof), a rigid exclusion of this\nheathenish admixture of fable and immorality was the first and most\nessential requisite. But those older revelations, imparted to the first\nman and the second progenitor of mankind, are expressly laid down as the\ngroundwork of that evangel of the creation, which forms the introduction\nto the whole volume of Scripture, and furnishes us thereby with a key to\nunderstand the history and religion of the primitive world--or, to speak\nabsolutely, the true Genesis of the existing world, its history and its\nscience. This double principle, expressly recognizing, on the one hand,\nan original revelation and divine illumination of the first progenitors\nof the human race, of which the olden and less corrupted monuments of\nheathenism still retain many a trace; and, on the other, strictly\nrejecting the additions of a corrupt and degenerated heathenism, with\nall its tissue of fables and false, godless mysteries, must be kept\nsteadily in view in examining the earliest portions of the sacred\nScriptures. For the neglect, or imperfect consideration of it, has\nalready led, and is ever likely to give rise to many complicated doubts\nand perverted views, which imperil not only the simple understanding of\nthe whole body of revealed Scripture, but even the right conception of\nrevelation.\n\nIt would seem, then, that not only philosophical, but absolutely every\nhigher species of knowledge is an internal science of experience. For\nthe formal science of mathematics is not a positive science for the\ncognition of a real object, so much as an organon and aid for other\nsciences, which, however, as such, is both excellent in itself, and\nadmits of many useful applications. We may, therefore, on this\nhypothesis consider each of these four faculties of man, which I have\ncalled the principal poles or leading branches of human consciousness,\nas a peculiar sense for a particular domain of truth. For all experience\nand all science thereof rests on some cognitive sense as the organ of\nits immediate perceptions. Now, the reason, which, in its form of\nconscience, announces itself as an internal sense of right and wrong,\nis, as the faculty for the development and communication of thought,\nusually named the common sense. It constitutes the bond of connection\nbetween men and their thoughts, which is dependent on and conditioned by\nlanguage and its organ, and may be called the sense for all that is\ndistinctively human. In this respect it forms the foundation and first\ngrade of all other senses for, and immediate organs of, a higher\nknowledge. Fancy, again, being itself but a reflection of life and of\nthe living powers of the natural world, is the inward sense for nature,\nwhich, as will hereafter be more fully shown, first lends and assures to\nnatural science its due import and true living significance. And,\ninasmuch as the perfect intellection of a single object results from the\ntotality alone--the significance and spirit of the whole--therefore the\nunderstanding is the sense for that mind [_geist_] which manifests\nitself in the sensible world, whether this be a human or natural, or the\nsupreme Divine intelligence.\n\nNow, if we may venture to consider the fourfold revelation of God in\nconscience, in nature, in Holy Writ, and the world\u2019s history, as so many\nliving springs or fertilizing streams of a higher truth, we must suppose\nthe existence of a good soil to receive the water of life and the good\nseed of divine knowledge. For without an organ of susceptibility for\ngood to receive the divine gift from above, no amount of revelation\nwould benefit man. Now, the soul, so susceptible of good on all sides,\nboth from within and from without, is even this organ for the reception\nof revelation. And this function of the soul, together with its creation\nof language as the outer form of human knowledge, constitutes its\ncontribution to science, and especially to internal science. And even\nwith the understanding, as the sense which discerns the meaning and\npurport of revelation, the soul is co-operative--since nothing divine\ncan be understood merely in the idea, and of and by itself alone, but in\nevery case a feeling for it must have preceded, or, at least,\ncontributed toward its complete understanding. The soul, consequently,\nwhich is thus susceptible of the divine, is ever informing itself about,\nor co-operating in the acquisition of a knowledge of the Godlike. And\nthis, the soul\u2019s love and pursuit of divine truth, when, unfolding\nitself in thought, it comes forth in an investiture of words, is even\nphilosophy--not, indeed, the dead sophistic of the schools, but one\nwhich, as it is a philosophy of life, can be nothing less than living.\nAnd the soul, thus ardently yearning for the divine, and both receiving\nand faithfully maintaining the revealed Word, is the common center\ntoward which all the four springs of life and streams of truth converge.\nIn free meditation it reconciles and combines them.\n\nOn this account the oldest and most natural form of philosophy was that\nof dialogue, which did not, however, exclude the occasional introduction\nof a simple narrative, or the continuous explanation of higher and\nabstruser questions. Philosophy, accordingly, might not inappropriately\nbe defined as a dialogue of the soul in its free meditation on divine\nthings. And this was the very form it actually possessed among the\nearliest and noblest of the philosophers of antiquity--first of all\nreally and orally, as with Pythagoras and Socrates, and lastly in its\nwritten exposition, of which style Plato was the great and consummate\nmaster. But it was only to the noblest and best of all ranks, though\nwithout distinction of age or sex, that these the greatest men of\nantiquity communicated their treasures of philosophical wisdom. In this\ncourse Pythagoras first set the example, which, on the whole, was\nfollowed also by Socrates and Plato. For, in general, the latter\nconfined their philosophical teaching to a select circle, and imparted\nit, as it were, under the seal of friendship, to such only as in the\nsocial intercourse of life they admitted to close and familiar intimacy.\nOccasional exceptions were, perhaps, furnished by their disputes with\nthe sophists, in the course of which they were constrained to adopt, not\nonly the weapons, but also the method of their adversaries--a license of\nwhich Plato, perhaps, has too often availed himself, even if he has not\nsometimes abused it. For about this time the sophists introduced a\npractice as erroneous as their doctrine was false. Publishing their\nphilosophemes to the whole people, they treated it and quarreled about\nit in the market-place as a common party matter. Such a procedure was in\nevery sense pernicious, and one which must have brought even truth\nitself into contempt. Lastly, Aristotle comprised in his manuals the\ncollective results of all earlier philosophical speculation, and\nintrusted his treasury of mature knowledge and well-sifted and\nnewly-arranged thoughts to the keeping of a school. Now, we should be\nfar from justified were we to make this a reproach against this master\nof subtlety and profoundest of thinkers; for at this time all true\nintellectual life had, together with public spirit, become extinct among\nthe Greeks, amid the disorders of democracy, or under the pressure of\nthe armed supremacy of Macedonia. Still it must ever remain a matter of\nprofound regret. For philosophy, as standing in the center between the\nguiding spirit of the divine education of man and the external force of\ncivil right and material power, ought to be true mundane soul\n[_Weltseele_] which animates and directs the development of ages and of\nthe whole human race. Deeply, therefore, is it to be deplored whenever\nscience, and especially philosophy, are withdrawn from this wide sphere\nof universal operation, and from human life itself, to remain banished\nand cooped up in the narrow limits of a school.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE IV.\n\nOF THE SOUL IN RELATION TO NATURE.\n\n\n\u201cWe know in part,\u201d exclaimed, with burning zeal, the honest man of God\nin Holy Scripture, \u201cWe know in part, and we prophesy in part.\u201d How true\nthe first member of this sentence is even in the case of that knowledge\nof God which alone deserves the name of knowledge, or repays the trouble\nof its acquisition, the previous Lecture must in many ways have served\nto convince us. The second member, which will chiefly occupy our\nattention in the present discussion, is in an eminent degree applicable\nto physical science. For what, in fact, is all our knowledge of nature,\nconsidered as a whole and in its inmost essence, but a mere speculation,\nconjecture, and guess upon guess? What is it but an endless series of\ntentative experiments, by which we are continually hoping to succeed in\nunveiling the secret of life, to seize the wonderful Proteus, and to\nhold him fast in the chains of science? Or is it not, perhaps, one\never-renewed attempt to decipher more completely than hitherto the\nsybilline inscriptions on the piled-up rows and layers of tombs, which\nas nature grows older convert its great body into one vast catacomb, and\nso perchance to find therein the key to unlock and bring to light the\nfar greater--nay, the greatest of all riddles--the riddle of death? Now\nthere are undoubtedly, even in nature itself, occasional indications of,\nscattered hints and remote allusions to, a final crisis, when even in\nnature and in this sensible and elementary world, life shall be entirely\nseparated from death, and when death itself shall be no more. Gravely to\nbe pondered and in nowise to be neglected are these hints, although\nwithout the aid of a higher illumination they must forever remain\nunintelligible to man. Thus considered, however, the universe itself\nappears replete with dumb echoes and terrestrial resounds of divine\nrevelation. It is not, therefore, without reason and significance, if in\nthis beautiful hymn the ancient prophetess of nature lends her\nconcurrent testimony to the promises of the holy seer of a last day of\ncreation, which nature shall celebrate as the great day of her\nrenovation and toward which she yearns with an indescribable longing\nwhich is nowhere so inimitably depicted, so strongly and so vividly\nexpressed, as in Holy Writ itself. Holy Scripture could not and can not\ncontain a system of science, whether as a philosophy of reason or a\nscience of nature. Nay, in this form of a manual and methodical\ncompendium of divine knowledge, it could not inspire us with confidence\neither as revelation or as science. Condescending altogether to the\nwants of man, both in form and language, it consists of a collection of\noccasional and wholly practical compositions derived immediately from,\nand expressly designed for, life--in a certain sense it consists of\nnothing but the registers and social statutes either of the prophetic\npeople or of the apostolical community. Accordingly, its contents are of\na mixed nature: historical, legal, instructive, hortatory, consolatory,\nand prophetical, together with a rich abundance of minute and special\nallusions, while it enters every where into, and with watchful love\nadapts itself to, individual wants and local peculiarities. And the form\nof these writings, at once so singular in its kind--and in such\nmarvelous wise, but yet so eminently human--is so far from being\ninconsistent with the divine character, that the very condescension of\nthe Deity constitutes a new and additional but most characteristic proof\nof genuine revelation. Only the first foundation-stone and the key and\ncorner-stone form an exception. Embracing within their spacious limits\nthe beginning of nature and the end of the world, they form, as it were,\nthe corner-rings and the bearing-staves of the ark of the covenant of\nrevelation. And while on the one side as well as on the other, in the\nopening no less than in the closing book, which contain almost as many\nmysteries as words, the seven-branched candlestick of secret\nsignification is set up, still all else that is inclosed within the holy\nark receives therefrom sufficient light for its perfect elucidation. In\nall other respects the style is that of a plain narrative couched in\nvery appropriate and simple words; and if the masters of criticism in\nclassical antiquity have quoted a few passages from the beginning of\nGenesis as the most exalted instances of the sublime, still it was in\nthe very simplicity and extreme plainness of the language that they\nrecognized this character of sublimity. From these two ends,\nmoreover--from this first root as well as from the last crown of the\nbook, there proceeds many threads and veins, which, running through the\ntissue, bind it together more closely into a living unity, on which\naccount, although consisting of so many and such divers books, it is\njustly considered as one, being called simply the \u201cBook\u201d (Bible).\nConsequently it would, as already said, be foolish to look for a system\nof science in the divine book for men. Nevertheless we do meet here and\nthere with single words about nature and her secrets--hints occasionally\ndropped and seemingly accidental expressions--which, giving a clear and\nfull information as to much that is hidden therein, furnish science\nconsequently with so many keys for unlocking nature. These, indeed, are\nnot scattered throughout in equal measure, but here, perhaps, more\nthinly, and there again more thickly. In all these passages, and\nespecially those of the Old Testament, which not only depict the\nexternal beauties and visible glory of nature, but also touch upon its\nhidden powers and inmost secrets of life, we may observe a kind of\nintentional, I might, perhaps, say, cautious reserve and heedful\ncircumspection, amounting at times almost to an indisposition to speak\nout fully and clearly, lest the abuse or probable misconception of what\nshould be said might give encouragement to the heathenish and\nwide-spread deification of nature.\n\nIn the New Testament (if we may venture to speak of these things in the\nsame natural and human fashion that Scripture itself employs) the Holy\nSpirit uses language far more precise and clear. On the whole, the\nrelation in which Holy Writ and divine revelation stand to nature\nitself, and the science thereof, is a peculiar one. It is eminently\ntender and wonderful, but not, indeed, intelligible at the first glance,\nor broadly definable according to any rigorous and established notion.\nIt is one, however, capable of being made clearer by means of a simile\nborrowed from Scripture itself. Those guileless men whom the Redeemer\nchose as His instruments for carrying out His great work of the\nredemption of the world, were endued with miraculous powers, which it\nwas and ever will be apparent, were not of their own strength, but of\nHis. Now, of the first of these apostles it is narrated that a healing\npower, and, as it were, an invisible stream of life proceeded from him,\nwithout his being conscious of, or, at least, without his regarding it,\nwhich healed the sick who were brought out and placed within the range\nof his shadow as he passed by.[20] In the same manner the fiery wain of\ndivine revelation, as it passes on its way, scatters, in single words\nand images, many a bright spark. The radiant shadow of the word of God,\nas it falls, is sufficient to kindle and throw a new light over the\nwhole domain of nature, by means of which the true science thereof may\nbe firmly established, its inmost secrets explored and brought into\ncoherence and agreement with all else.\n\nI have already more than once called your attention to the method which\nall the philosophers of reason, without exception, pursue. In different\nways, according to the special objects they have in view, they all alike\npresumed to set certain absolute and impassable limits to human reason\n(which, however, by some slight turn or other, they soon dextrously\ncontrive to transgress) in order to bring within their system of\nabsolute science--which is at best but a dead semblance--all that it\nwill hold, and even what it can not contain. Quite different, however,\nis it with the truth, and with that living science which we take for the\nbasis of our speculations. For from it it appears that the soul of man,\nhowever liable it may be to manifold error, is, nevertheless, capable of\nreceiving the divine communications. Since, then, man can possess as\nmany of these higher branches of knowledge, and can learn as much of\ndivine things as it is given to him to know, and since, at the same\ntime, it is God himself who is the primary source from which all man\u2019s\nknowledge flows, and his guide to truth--who shall determine the measure\nand fix the limits--who shall dare to say how much of knowledge and of\nscience God will vouchsafe to man?--who shall venture to prescribe the\nlimits beyond which His illumination can not pass? This, it is evident,\nis illimitable. It may go on to an extent which, at the beginning, man\nwould not have believed to be possible. In a word, though of himself,\nand by his own unassisted reason, man is incapable of knowing any thing,\nyet through God, if it be his will, he may attain to the knowledge of\nall things. And yet it is true, though in a very different sense from\nthat intended by these philosophers of reason, that man\u2019s knowledge is\nin reality limited. No absolute limit, indeed, is set to it. Yet because\nit is a mixed knowledge, composed of outward tradition and inward\nexperience, and is founded on the perceptions of the external and\ninternal senses, therefore is it made up of individual instances,\nextremely slow in its growth, and in no respect perfect and complete,\nand scarcely ever free from faults and deficiencies. Consequently, when\nconsidered in its totality, and as pretending to be a whole, it is\ninvariably imperfect. But this character of imperfection belongs, in\nfact, to all real science, as derived from the experience of the senses.\nSeldom, indeed, is the first impression free from the admixture of\nerror; numberless repeated observations, comparisons, essays,\nexperiments, and corrections, which must often be carried on through\nmany centuries, not to say many tens of centuries, are necessary before\na pure and stable result can be attained to. In this way all truly human\nknowledge is imperfect, and \u201cin part;\u201d and although, on the contrary,\nthe false conceited wisdom may parade itself from the very first as\nfully ripe and complete, yet in a very brief space indeed will its\nimperfection and rottenness appear.\n\nAnd, indeed, the character of imperfection shows itself, as in all other\nhuman things, so also in the science of nature. From its birth among the\nearliest naturalists of Greece to its boasted maturity among ourselves,\nit counts an age of two millenniums and a half of unbroken cultivation.\nBut now if, looking beyond the explanation of single isolated facts, we\nconsider rather our knowledge of nature in its universal system and\ninternal constitution, can we say that physical science has, during the\ntime, made more than, perhaps, two steps and a half of progress? And\nthis slow and toilsome advance which, in a certain sense, never arrives\nat more than \u201cknowing in part,\u201d is the law of every department of human\nscience. Consequently it may be justly said of the development of man\u2019s\nscience, that with God a thousand years are as a day, and one day as a\nthousand years.[21] All knowledge drawn from the senses and experience\nis bound by this condition. It may, no doubt, apply immediately and\nprincipally to external experience, which is dependent on the lower and\nordinary senses, whether we reckon them according to the number of their\nseparate organs as five, or as three in compliance with a more\nscientific classification. But it also holds equally good of those which\nwe pointed out and described in the last Lecture as being the four\nsuperior scientific senses, the organs of a knowledge founded on a\nhigher and internal experience, the sense, viz., of reason, the sense of\nunderstanding, the sense for nature or fancy, and the proper sense for\nGod, which lies in the inmost free will of man. Not merely as the\nfaculty of suggestion [_Ahndungsvermogen_], is fancy to be regarded as\nthe higher and internal sense for nature, or because it is from this\nside that the affinity of man, and of man\u2019s soul with nature, is most\ndistinctly revealed, but it also exhibits itself as such in the\nscientific apprehension of natural phenomena. That dynamical play of the\ninner life, that law of a living force which constitutes the essence of\nevery phenomenon of nature, is a something so fleeting and evanescent\nthat it can only be seized and fixed by the fancy alone, since, as is\nnow pretty generally allowed by all profound observers of nature, in the\nabstract notion life eludes the grasp, and nothing remains but a dead\nformula.\n\nThe apprehension of a living object in thought, so as to seize and fix\nit in its mobile vitality and its fluctuating and fleeting states, is an\nact of the imagination, which, however, is naturally of a peculiar kind,\nand entirely distinct from artistic or poetical fancy. It is, in this\nrespect, worthy of remark, that all the most characteristic and\nfelicitous terms which are employed to designate the great discoveries\nin modern times of the profounder secrets of nature are, for the greater\npart, boldly figurative, and often even symbolical. Here, therefore,\nalso, we have a manifestation of that affinity which subsists between\nnature and the faculty of fancy, by which alone its ever-stirring\nvitality is scientifically apprehended.\n\nI formerly observed that, in the outer senses, as faculties of the soul\nsubordinate to the fancy, a higher intellectual endowment, as a special\ngift of nature, is occasionally found to exist, namely, the sense of\nart, or the eye for beautiful forms, and the ear for musical sounds. But\neven the lower sense, the more purely organic feeling, is often evolved\nto higher degrees of susceptibility, which, however, do not fall within\nthe sphere of the feeling for art, but form, as it were, a peculiar and\nspecial sense of nature. To this class belong those indescribable\nfeelings of sympathy and inward attraction--the many vivid presentiments\nof a strange foreboding--traces of which may be observed among many\nother animals besides man, just as, in the case of musical tones and\nemotions, a light note of remote affinity seems to bring the soul of man\nin unison with a correspondent nature soul in the higher members of the\nbrute creation. Numberless are the instances of such forebodings (among\nwhich we must reckon also the significant vision or dream) recorded of\nall times, countries, and spheres of life. No doubt, from their strange\nnature, and from the manifold difficulties with which man\u2019s mode of\nobserving and narrating these phenomena perplexes the consideration of\nthem, it is any thing but easy, in any individual case, to arrive at a\npure result, and to pass a final and decisive sentence. Still, on the\nwhole, the fact can not well be denied, as, indeed, it is not even\nattempted, by any unprejudiced and profound observer of nature in the\npresent day. But now, if such an immediate feeling of invisible light\nand life does freely develop and clearly manifest itself as an\nindubitable faculty and a perfectly distinct state of the consciousness,\nthen assuredly we have herein a new organ of perception and a new\nnatural sense. Though not, indeed, more infallible than any other of the\nsenses, it may, nevertheless, be the source of very remarkable\nphenomena, which, perhaps, above all others require investigation, in\norder that their distinctive character may be precisely and accurately\ndetermined. It is, however, necessary to remember that the latter is not\nto be determined by any side-blow of caprice, any more than the electric\nphenomena of nature and the atmosphere, when they are actually lowering\nthere, are to be got rid of by any such expedient.\n\nIt is only just and right, and not inconsistent with true human\nknowledge, if physical science should commence with the study of man.\nStill, if we would contemplate man from the side of nature, it seems the\nsafer course to endeavor, first of all, to obtain a clear and leading\nidea of the whole of his constitution in this respect, rather than to\nlose ourselves in the contemplation of the special phenomena of a\nparticular sphere. Now, with regard to the whole of man\u2019s organization,\nthe organic body as the third constituent of human existence, I will\nmerely remark that, just as the triple principle of body, soul, and\nspirit is repeated in the special and narrower spheres of the senses,\nthe instincts, and the passions, and even in the different forms in\nwhich a disordered intellect usually manifests itself, so also it admits\nof a further application to the organic body in general. That most\nwonderful organization, the marvelous structure of bones and muscles,\nthe outward organic frame, is, as it were, the body in a narrower sense,\nthe pre-eminently material constituent of living bodies. The soul of\nman--here consequently the organic soul--is in the blood and in the five\nor six organs whose functions are first of all to elaborate the blood\nand afterward to provide for its circulation--or perhaps by maintaining\na perpetual interchange of the breath and the external air, to keep the\nvital flame constantly burning on the hearth of life within. A third\nelement--and, indeed, the principal one of the three, though only\nnoticeable in its effects on the brain--exists within the higher senses\nand functions--in short, in the whole nervous tissue. But it lies not in\nthe nervous filaments themselves: anatomy can not detect it, for it is\nnot visible to the eye. On this account some have called it the \u00e6ther of\nthe nerves to indicate its incorporeal nature--incorporeal, _i.e._,\nrelatively to, and in comparison with, the other two constituents of\nman--the blood-soul, and the external frame--as being the spirit of life\nin the organic body. Strictly and sharply enough does Holy Writ\ndistinguish this spiritual body (as it calls it) of man from the body of\nthe soul, or the organic blood-soul, considering the former, as it were,\nthe seed of the resurrection, even because at the moment of death this\nethereal body-of-light leaves its terrestrial veil to be in due time\nreunited to it after a more glorious fashion. And death itself is even\nnothing else than its total departure and painful emancipation from the\norganic body, on which the features, one might almost say, the\nphysiognomy of corruption stamps itself, immediately that the immortal\nPsyche, the invisible seed of light and eternity, has put off the\ntabernacle of this body.\n\nThis internal, invisible body-of-light [_Lichtkorper_] is also the organ\nand the center of all the higher and spiritual powers of the human\norganization. For it is easily conceivable that a partial projection of\nthis life of light which is latent in the sound organic body should\nproduce such phenomena, while its complete projection, or rather total\nseparation, would have death for its result, or rather would itself be\ndeath. A truly scientific view of nature can easily enter into or allow\nthe legitimacy of this idea. The true rule, however, and standard for\nthe right decision of phenomena of this kind can only be found in a\nhigher region, even because they themselves lie on the extreme limits of\nnature and life, and in part also pass beyond them.\n\nWe therefore prefer to follow the more slow but sure course of\ndevelopment pursued by physical science itself, as commenced nearly\ntwenty-five centuries ago by the Greeks. On the whole it began even\nthere with the cognition of man--of his diseases and their cure. The\nnaturalists, indeed, of the present day are in general disposed to\nlaugh at the ideas of nature which were advanced by the first\nphilosophers of Greece, and to despise the hypotheses of water, or air,\nor fire, as being the essence of all things, which, nevertheless, as the\nfirst beginnings of a clearer contemplation and of a higher view of\nnature, greatly recommend themselves by their extreme simplicity. But\nhowever modern observers of nature may be ready to hand these systems\nover to fancy as so many purely poetical cosmogonies, yet, on the other\nhand, the present masters of medicine, with greater gratitude and fuller\nacknowledgment of his merits, reverence Hippocrates as the founder of\ntheir art. For, indeed, as such, and not properly as a science, or at\nany rate as an art far more than as a science, was medicine regarded by\nits founder and the great masters who came after him. They looked upon\nit as the art of the diagnosis and treatment of disease, in which the\nunerring tact of a practiced and happy judgment is of primary\nimportance, and where the rapid and searching glance of genius into the\nsecret laboratories of life or into the hidden sources of disease is,\nand ever will be, the principal and most essential point. The mere\nhistorical acquaintance with the different forms of diseases and their\nremedies, with botany, and the anatomy of the human body, with the\nnumber and structure of its organs, forms merely the materials, the\nexternal sphere of medical practice; while the essential qualification\nis even this penetrating glance which searches out the inmost secrets of\nthe bodily temperament. But now those who have been most richly gifted\nwith this peculiar gift have ever been the last to believe themselves\npossessed of a perfect science. And yet, inasmuch as that physical\nknowledge which, by attaining to a complete understanding of life, shall\nbe able to comprehend and explain the mystery of death would alone\ndeserve the name of the science of nature; inasmuch also as the\nsearching glance of the true physician arrives the nearest to such a\npoint, penetrating, as it does, deep into the manifold fluctuation and\nstruggle between the two, and into the secrets of their conflict, this,\ntherefore, is perhaps to be considered as the first germ of life for a\nfuture science of nature, which, however as yet undeveloped, has for\nmore than twenty centuries been slumbering on, hidden, as it were, in\nembryo, in the womb of medical art and lore. The physical, geographical,\nand astronomical observations of this whole period of gestation, form,\nit is true, a rich treasury of valuable materials, but they do not give\nus that profound knowledge, of which alone the physician\u2019s penetrating\nglance into life and its constitution furnishes the first commencement\nand essay, however weak.\n\nWith respect to natural science in general, and the possibility of our\nattaining to it, the case stands thus:--If nature be a living force--if\nthe life which reigns within it be in a certain though still very remote\ndegree akin to the life of man and the human soul--then is a knowledge\nof nature easily conceivable, and right well possible (for nothing but\nthe like, or at least the similar and cognate, can be known by the like)\neven though this cognition may still be extremely defective, and at best\ncan never be more than partial. But if nature be a dead, stony mass, as\nmany seem to suppose, then would it be wholly inconceivable how this\nforeign mass of petrifaction could penetrate into our inmost Ego; then\nat least would there seem to be good grounds for the idealistic doubt\nwhether ultimately this external world be any thing but a mere phantom,\nhaving no existence save in our own thoughts--the outward reflection of\nourselves--the pure creation of our own Me.\n\nThe question of innate ideas has been often mooted in philosophy. As,\nhowever, the essential functions and different acts of thought, together\nwith its several notions, are, properly speaking, nothing but the\nnatural division of man\u2019s cogitative faculty, it is not on their account\nnecessary to suppose such a preliminary intercalation of general ideas\ninto the human mind. And as little necessary is it, in order to explain\nthe universal belief in the existence of a Deity, to suppose that there\nis in the minds of all men an implanted idea of God; for this would lead\nto the purely arbitrary hypothesis, of that which is so difficult to\nconceive--the pre-existence of the spirit or soul of man. And as no\ncreated beings can have an idea of God, but those to whom He vouchsafes\nto communicate it, and to accord a knowledge of His existence, so can He\nbestow this privilege the very instant He pleases, without the\nintervention of any innate idea expressly for that end. And yet I am\ndisposed, and not, I think, without reason, to assume that man, as at\npresent constituted, does possess one, though only one, species of\ninborn ideas, viz., an innate idea of death. This, as a false root of\nlife, and a true mental contagion, produces a dead cogitation, and is\nthe origin of all dead and dead-born notions. For this idea of death,\nwhether hereditary or inoculated in the soul, is, as its peculiar but\nfundamental error, transferred by the mind of man to every object with\nwhich it comes in contact. And thus, in man\u2019s dead cogitation, the\nsurrounding world and all nature appears to him a similar lifeless and\ninert mass, so long as sitting beneath this shadow of spiritual death,\nhis mind [_geist_] has not sufficient strength to work its way out of\nits dark prison-house into the light. For not at all without higher aid,\nand even with it only slowly and tardily, does man discover that all\nthat is really and naturally dead is within himself, or learn to\nrecognize it for what it truly is, a something eminently null and\nnaught. Another species of this false and dead conception of nature\npresents itself under the form of multiplicity. In this view nature is\nrepresented as forming something like a vast sandhill, where, apart from\nthe pile they thus form together and their aggregation in it, the\nseveral grains are supposed to have no connection with each other;\nwhile, however, they are so diligently counted, as if every thing\ndepended on their right enumeration. But through the sieve of such an\natomistic, which would break up the universe into a number of separate\nand absolute individualities, the sand will ever run, however often and\npainfully man may strive to reckon or to measure the infinity of these\ngrains of nature. Mathematical calculation and measuring hold the same\nplace in physical science that is held in every living language by\nconjugating and declining, and other grammatical rules, which, in truth,\nare but a species of mathematical formul\u00e6. In learning a foreign and\nespecially a dead language, these are indispensable and necessary aids,\nwhich greatly promote and facilitate its acquisition; so also\nmathematics furnish indispensable helps and a most valuable organon for\nthe cognition of nature. But with them alone man will never learn to\nunderstand even a word, not to talk of a whole proposition, out of\nnature\u2019s strangely-sounding and most difficult hieroglyphics.\n\nSomewhat different is it, when man seeks to understand the true living\ngeometry in nature herself, _i.e._, attempts to discover the place which\nthe circle and eclipse (passing from these up to the spheres in their\nsidereal orbits), or which the triangle, the square, the hexagon, and so\nforth, assume in the scale of its creations--or when, in a similar\nspirit, he investigates and ascertains the really dominant rule in the\narithmetic of life; those numbers which the physician observes in the\nperiodic developments of life, and which, in the fluctuating states of\nan abating and heightening malady, enable him, under certain conditions,\nto predict the moment of its crisis. Of a still higher kind is that\nspiritual, we might almost call it divine chronology, which, in\nuniversal history, marks out definite epochs of the mental development\nof the human race, and traces therein the influence of certain grades of\nlife, or ages of the world, and the alternating phases of disease in\nwhole communities, and those decisive moments and great critical\nemergencies in which God Himself appears as the healing Physician and\nRestorer of life. It was, in all probability, in reference to such an\narithmetic, or in some similar sense, that Pythagoras taught that\nnumbers are, or contain the essence of things. For such an arithmetic of\nlife and geometry of nature do afford a positive cognition and a real\nknowledge. As commonly understood, however, mathematics are nothing more\nthan a formal science--in other words, they are simply a scientific\norganon, rather than a science. But now, if nature be not regarded as\ndead, but living, who can doubt that it--or, as we are now speaking of\nman\u2019s nearest neighbor--that the earth is akin to man? Was he not formed\nout of the dust of the earth, and is he not therefore the son, nay, in\ntruth, the first-born of the earth?--does he not receive from it food\nand nourishment? and when the irrevocable summons goes forth from above,\ndoes he not give back again to its bosom the earthly tabernacle of his\nflesh? Do not chemists tell us that the principal constituent of the\npurest wheat-corn has a great affinity to the substance of man\u2019s blood?\nand does not the blood, moreover, derive one of its ingredients from\niron--the principal among the metals of the earth? And are not gold and\nother metallic substances either wholesome medicines or deadly poisons?\nAnd is there not also an inexhaustible store of both in the wonderful\nvarieties of herbs and plants? Do not invigorating and healing springs\nburst from numberless rocks and fissures of the earth? Is not--to speak\nonly of the heavenly bodies nearest to and immediately connected with\nour globe--is not the sun\u2019s heat so specifically different from every\nother kind of warmth, the quickener of all that lives and moves, and for\nman under a milder clime, as it were, a soft renovating bath? And is not\nthe other and lesser light--earth\u2019s mighty satellite and companion, the\nmoon--the cause of all those changes in the weather and atmosphere,\nwhich, from the earliest times, have been acknowledged to be most\nserviceable and highly beneficial to agriculture? Is not the great pulse\nof the ocean, in its ebb and flow, measured by it, as well as many\nperiods, of the development of life? And is it not, when its operation\nis too powerful or violently exciting, the cause of a peculiar disease\namong men? As, therefore, the musical unisons in the melodious songs of\nbirds, both find and wake a concordant echo in the heart of man, so,\ntoo, in a larger scale, the blood-soul of man, with its living pulsation\nand organic sensibility, is most nearly akin to and sympathizes with the\nearth and the whole earthly frame. And is not, in all probability, this\nsympathetic influence between the earth and man reciprocal? Must not,\nfor instance, the respiration of nine hundred millions of human beings\nhave affected the atmosphere? Has not the very air degenerated with the\nhuman race, and like it become corrupt and deteriorated? Are not certain\npestilential diseases propagated by the air alone, being carried in\nfixed telluric directions, without material contact or pollution? And\nif, in answer to the inference which we would draw from these facts, any\none should sit down to calculate the number of cubic miles in the\natmospheric belt, and argue that the breath and evaporation from ever so\nmany myriads of human beings would be insufficient to have any effect\nthereon, we might easily retort upon him the equally vast reckoning of\nthe millions of seconds which make up a hundred and more generations,\nand by which these respirations must be counted. But, however this may\nbe, it does appear that the air must, in primitive times, have been far\nmore pure and balsamic, and more vital and more nutritive, than at\npresent. For before the Flood men required neither flesh nor wine to\nrecruit their strength, and yet, in duration of life and bodily vigor,\nand above all in energy of will and powers of mind, they far surpassed\nthe sons of a later age; and it was even by the misuse of these great\ngifts and endowments that they brought down the divine vengeance on\ntheir sinful generation. And, lastly, if the earth were wholly without\nlife, how could it, at the creation of the animals of this planetary\nworld, have yielded obedience to the behest of the Creator, as it went\nforth on the sixth day, \u201cLet the earth bring forth the living creature\nafter its kind?\u201d Highly important, moreover, as regards the true\nestimate of the whole realm of nature as contemplated by the Divine\nmind, and deeply significant, is the wide interval which, in the Mosaic\nhistory of the creation, separates the bringing forth of the beasts by\nthe earth at the command of the Almighty, from the making of man,\nwhereof it is written, \u201cLet us make man in our own image.\u201d\n\nPhysical science having thus sluggishly advanced through a definite\nperiod and number of centuries--having lived through almost two\nmillenniums in little better than an embryo state--made at last the few\nsteps of progress that it has yet taken. By a more rapid march of time,\nit hastened to suit itself to the riper age of man, and to come forth\nitself, as it were, mature, although, in many respects, this is even yet\nvery far from being the case. The principal of these advances of\nphysical science is the invention of the compass. For, in the first\nplace, the phenomenon of magnetism presents a remarkable manifestation\nof the universal life of the world, which eludes all mathematical\ncalculations of magnitude, while the little piece of this wonderful iron\nbalances by its living agency the whole globe itself. And, in the second\nplace, the results to which it has led have been no less important and\nmarvelous. The magnetic index pointed the way to the discovery of the\nNew World, and to a more perfect acquaintance with the figure of the\nearth, and thus, through an enlarged observation of geographical and\nastronomical facts, opened out a grander and more extensive view of the\nwhole planetary system. Of the new world in the other hemisphere, a\ntrace unquestionably is to be found in antiquity in the legend of the\nisland of Atlantis. The general description of this island, as equal in\nextent to both Asia and Africa together, agrees remarkably with the size\nof America. But the fable contains the additional circumstance, that,\nhaving existed in the Western Ocean in very ancient times, it was\nsubsequently swallowed up by the waves. From this circumstance I am led\nto infer, that the legend did not, as is generally supposed, owe its\norigin to Ph\u0153nician navigators, who, even if it be true that they did\nsucceed in sailing round Africa, most assuredly never ventured so far\nwestward. Like so much besides that is equally great and grand, and,\nindeed, far grander, the main fact of the legend seems to be derived\nfrom an original tradition from the primeval times, when,\nunquestionably, man was far better acquainted with his whole habitation\nof this earth than in the days of the infant and imperfect science of\nGreece, or even of the more advanced and enlightened antiquity. A vague\ntraditionary notion of its existence lived on from generation to\ngeneration. But afterward, when even the Ph\u0153nician sailors, however\nfar they penetrated into the wide ocean, were unable to give any precise\ninformation about, or adduce any proof of, the fact, the hypothesis was\nadvanced, and finally added to the tradition, that the island had been\nswallowed up by the sea.\n\nModern astronomy, at its first rise, was extremely revolting to man\u2019s\nfeelings, which had become, as it were, habituated to the olden theory\nof the world\u2019s shape. The system of Ptolemy, indeed, with its narrow\negotistic conceit of making man the center of the sidereal universe, was\nas unsatisfactory as it was absurd, and little was lost when it was\nexploded. But, on the other hand, it was startling, and still has a\nstaggering effect on our minds, to be told, that, when measured by the\nmathematical standard of the vast distances and periodic times of the\nplanetary system, the earth, for which the Almighty has done such\nincalculably great things, and on which He has bestowed such high and\nprecious gifts, is, as it were, but a little and insignificant splinter\nin the vast regions of infinite space. A true and profound science of\nnature, however, does not allow of the validity of mathematical\nmagnitude as an exclusive standard of the value of things. Whether in a\ngreater or less sphere of existence, it sees and discovers in far other\nproperties the true center of life. If, even in our globe, the living\nmagnetic pole does not coincide with the true mathematical north pole,\nbut lies a considerable distance on one side of it, may it not, without\nprejudice to modern astronomy, be also the case with the whole planetary\nsystem? The first conceptions of nature are rarely, if ever, free from\nmistakes, and oftentimes, together with great truths, contain also great\nerrors. And while the first fresh impression, the living intuition, ever\nrecommends itself to the general feeling of mankind, and takes deep root\ntherein, the notions, on the other hand, which new discoveries of nature\nintroduce, not unfrequently do violence to the prevalent views as to the\nshape and form of the old world. Often, indeed, the former run directly\ncounter to what we might call the old family feelings of mankind, which,\ntransmitted through generations from father to son, have become, as it\nwere, a custom of life, a holy habit. Afterward, however, as the new\nscientific discovery is more perfectly developed, it gradually\nconciliates the old hereditary and customary feeling of nature. The two\nat last fall into friendly relations with each other.\n\nNow, in the article of the stars, the cherished creed of nature,\nprofessed by all ancient peoples, insisted, perhaps, on no one dogma so\nearnestly as that there are seven planets. That this deeply-rooted and\nhabitual feeling of men was not uninfluenced by the general\nconsideration of the number seven, is only natural to suppose. For not\nonly does it comprise the three dimensions of time, together with the\nfour cardinal points of space, but it is also found entering, under a\nvariety of combinations, into the life, the thought, and history of men.\nAnd in the new astronomy, though the sun and moon have been ejected from\nthe number of the planets, yet the earth has entered into the list, and\nthe deficient member of the system having been discovered, we have again\nseven planets, as in the olden belief. For it is, to say the least,\nhighly improbable that any new planetary body will ever be discovered\nbeyond Uranus,[22] and as for the small bodies which are situate between\nMars and Jupiter, it is pretty generally acknowledged that they are not\nproperly to be counted as planets, from which they are even\ndistinguished by their very names by some astronomers.\n\nAnd as little ground is there to take exception or offense at modern\nastronomy, even on that side of it where difficulties were originally\nmost felt and mooted. For Holy Writ was neither written exclusively nor\ndesigned pre-eminently for astronomers. In these matters, therefore, as\nin all others, it speaks the ordinary language which men employ among\nthemselves in the business of daily life.\n\nNow we know that in the pulse of the organic body its regular beating is\noccasionally interrupted by a hurried circulation or a momentary\nstoppage. Is it not in the same way possible that the pulsatory\nrevolutions of the great planetary world do not observe, like a piece of\ndead clock-work, a mechanical uniformity, but are liable to many\ndeviations and irregularities? If, then, a similar stoppage to that\nwhich sometimes occurs in the pulse of man, be here also supposable, as\nproduced by a superior power and external influence, then in the case of\nsuch an extraordinary interruption, it is a matter of indifference\nwhether it be said of this wonderful moment that the sun stood still, or\n(as seems to be the fact) that the earth was held in check and rested in\nits orbit. And, in like manner, for the changing phenomena of the\nastronomical day, the common expressions are equally true with the\nscientific, and equally significant. The sun\u2019s rise, the morning dawn,\nis, for all men, a figure, or, rather, a fact of pregnant meaning, while\nthe setting sun fills all hearts with a melancholy feeling of\nseparation. Equally true, however, is it, and in a symbolical sense it\nconveys perhaps a still more serious meaning, when we say, in scientific\nlanguage, \u201cThe earth must go down before the sun can rise;\u201d or, \u201cWhen\nthe earth goes up, then is it night, and darkness diffuses itself over\nall.\u201d Or if, perhaps, in the new and quickening spring, instead of the\nold phraseology, \u201cThe sun has returned, has come near to us again,\u201d we\nwere to say, \u201cThe earth, or at least our side of it, is again brought\nnearer to the sun,\u201d would it not be as beautiful and significant a\ndescription? And happy, indeed, are those periods of the world wherein,\nto speak in a figurative but moral sense, that earth-soul which rules in\nthe changes of time--the so-called public opinion, has declined toward,\nand approached more nearly to, its sun.\n\nIt is a remarkable, not to say wonderful, fact, that in ancient times\nthe Pythagoreans held the same system of the universe which modern\nastronomy teaches, though, perhaps, they were not acquainted with the\nmathematic calculations of its distances. But still more surprising is\nit, that while they were thus perfectly acquainted with the number of\nthe planets, and even arranged them in the same order that they are\nplaced by modern astronomers, they admitted into their system two stars\nwhich we have not. One of these, as the sun of the gods\n[_Geister-sonne_],[23] they placed high above the visible sun. The\nlatter, which they named the \u201ccounter-earth,\u201d (\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f31\u03c7\u03b8\u03bd) was\nplaced directly opposite to the real earth. It would seem, therefore,\nthat they regarded these two bodies as the invisible centers of the\nwhole sidereal universe, and, as it were, the choir-leaders or _choragi_\nof the apparently orderless and scattered host of heaven. Are these two\nstars now extinct? or is their light too pure and ethereal to penetrate\nour dense and thickened atmosphere; or, like so much besides, was it\nlittle else than a still surviving tradition from the primitive world?\nThis, however, must ever remain conjectural. As for the fact itself,\nthat the Pythagoreans did so teach, and understood by these names, not\nmerely figurative symbols, but real stars, has been placed beyond doubt\nby modern investigations into the Pythagorean doctrines. At any rate,\ntheir knowledge of these stars must have been acquired by some other\nmeans than the telescope of modern astronomy, with which, in fact, they\nwere not acquainted, and nothing but some new observation or phenomenon\nin the sidereal heavens can ever throw light on this matter. And who\nshall say that even our present astronomical science shall not advance\nstill further, and that it has not closed too soon, and been in all too\ngreat a haste to sum up its doubtless most elaborate and complicated\ncalculations?\n\nThus did the mind of man advance the first step toward the maturity of\nphysical science, by attaining to a more comprehensive survey of the\nmundane system, and a more accurate knowledge of his own habitation, of\nthis earthly planet. The next step in this sluggish progress was made by\nthe chemical discoveries of modern times, and especially of the French\nchemists. In a merely negative point of view, these have been important,\nas establishing the fact that the old elements, water, for instance, and\nair, which had long been regarded as simple, are themselves decomposable\ninto other constituents and aeriform parts. And, indeed, that such great\npowers of nature as these are, and must ever remain so long as the\npresent constitution of the world shall last, could only subsist in the\nreciprocal dynamical relation of several conflicting forces, a\nprofounder glance at nature would of itself have conjectured and\npresupposed. But in a positive sense, this second step has carried us\nvery far toward the understanding of the hieroglyphics of nature. Those\nprimary elements of things discovered and numbered by that chemical\nanalysis which has subjected to its experiments almost every form and\nspecies of matter, constitute, as it were, the permanent material\nletters and consonants of the natural world around us. On the other\nhand, the vowels of human language are represented by the fundamental\nfacts of the magnetism of the earth, together with the phenomena of\nelectricity, the decomposition of light, and the chemical chain of the\ngalvanic pile, in which the inner life of the terrestrial force, and of\nthe eternally-moving atmosphere, as well as the soul whose pulse beats\ntherein, finds an utterance, like a voice out of the lowest deep. And\nthus, by means of an alphabet of nature, which, however, is still most\nimperfect, we may hope to make a beginning, at least, and to decipher\none or two entire words. But modern chemistry has made a more important\nadvance toward a right understanding of nature as a whole. By analyzing\nand decomposing all solid bodies, as well as water itself, into\ndifferent forms of a gaseous element, it has thereby destroyed forever\nthat appearance of rigidity and petrifaction which the corporeal mass of\nvisible and external nature presents to our observation. Every where we\nnow meet with living elemental forces, hidden and shut up beneath this\nrigid exterior. The proportion of aqueous particles in the air is so\ngreat, that, if suddenly condensed, they would suffice for more than one\nflood. And a similar deluge of light would ensue, if all the luminous\nsparks which are latent in the darkness were simultaneously set free;\nand the whole globe itself would end in flame, were all the fiery\nelements that are at present dispersed throughout the world to be at\nonce disengaged and kindled. The investigation of the salutary bonds\nwhich hold together these elementary forces in due equilibrium,\ncontrolling one by the other, and confining each within its prescribed\nlimits, does not fall within the scope of our present inquiries, as\nneither does the question, whether these bonds be not of a higher kind\nthan naturalists commonly suppose? More immediately connected with, as\nalso more important for our general subject, is the result which\nchemical analysis has so indubitably established, that in the natural\nworld every object consists of living forces, and that properly nothing\nis rigid and dead, but all replete with hidden life. This colossal\nmountain range of petrified mummies which forms nature on the\nwhole--this pyramid of graves, piled one over the other, is therefore,\nit is true, a historical monument of the past--of all the bygone ages\nof the world in the advancing development of death; but nevertheless,\nthere is therein a latent vitality. Beneath the vast tombstone of the\nvisible world there slumbers a soul, not wholly alien, but more than\nhalf akin to our own. This planetary and sensible world, and the\nearth-soul imprisoned therein, is only apparently dead. Nature does but\nsleep, and will, perhaps, ere long awake again. Sleep generally is, if\nnot the essence, yet, at least, an essential signature and\ncharacteristic of nature. Every natural object partakes of it more or\nless. Not the animals only, but the very plants sleep; while in the\nvicissitudes of the seasons, and of their influences on the productive\nsurface of the earth, and, in truth, on the whole planet, a perpetual\nalternation is perceptible between an awakening of life and a state of\nslumbering repose. Whatever, consequently, partakes, and requires the\nrefreshment of sleep, belongs, even on that account, to nature.\nPainters, indeed, have given us pictures of sleeping angels or genii;\nbut the pure spirits sleep not, and stand, in truth, in no need of such\nrest, and their activity is not subject to this necessity of alternate\nrepose.\n\nThe comparison of a sentence in the Mosaic history of the creation, with\na passage in the Hindoo cosmogony, somewhat similar in kind, but most\ndifferent in the application, will serve, perhaps, to place this fact in\nthe clearest light. In the former it is said, \u201cGod rested on the seventh\nday.\u201d Now, in this expression there is nothing to startle us. In\nexplaining it, there is no need to have recourse to a figurative\ninterpretation. It does not allude to God\u2019s inmost nature (which admits\nnot of such alternation of states or need of rest), but simply to His\nexternal operations. For in every case where an operation of the Deity\ntakes place, whether in history or nature, an alternation between the\nfirst divine impulse, and a subsequent period of repose, is not only\nconceivable but actually noticeable. For the divine impulse or hand is,\nas it were, withdrawn, in order that this first impulse of the Creator\nmay fully expand itself, and that the creature adopting it, may carry it\nout and develop his own energies in accordance therewith. But instead of\nthis correct statement, we have, in the Hindoo cosmogony, that \u201cBrahma\nsleeps.\u201d While he thus slumbers, the whole creation, with its worlds and\nmundane developments, is said to collapse into naught. Here, then, a\nsingle word hurries us from the sure ground of truth and divine\nrevelation into the shifting domain of mythology. Of Him indeed, who is\nhigher than the angels and created spirits, it is no doubt assumed\nthroughout the New Testament that, while on earth, He slept like other\nmen. Once, too, it is expressly stated, that during a great storm, while\nHis disciples were filled with alarm, He was asleep in the hinder part\nof the ship; but that when He awoke the winds ceased. But here, also,\nthe case is different. While implying many a great object and\ninstructive lesson besides, this passage, like several others, seems\ndesigned to prove that our Lord\u2019s body was no mere phantom; but that He\ntook upon Him a real human form, and was, in truth, a man who stood in\nneed of sleep. And from this we may infer, that sleep is so\nindispensable a condition of natural existence, that even God Himself,\nas soon as He condescended to enter its limits by taking upon Him a\nhuman body, became subject to nature\u2019s essential law of sleep.\n\nThe important part which sleep plays, not only in nature, but also in\nman, her first-born son, appears from the earliest event that is\nrecorded of his history, even in Paradise. God caused a deep sleep to\nfall upon Adam, and out of his opened side took of his vital substance\nto invest it with a bodily veil and shape, and to present it before him\non his awaking as the gentle helpmeet of his existence. Extremely\nsignificant also is the difference in the accounts of man\u2019s and of\nwoman\u2019s material formation. Man is formed of the dust of the earth, and\ntherefore shortly after invested with the dominion of the whole earthly\nglobe as the deputy and vicegerent of Him from whom cometh all lordship\nand authority. But woman is taken and created out of the bosom or heart\nof man. Would human wit have ever invented, or even conceived the\npossibility of this great marvel of creative omnipotence?\n\nThis was in Paradise--but with the loss of it man was deprived, in a\ngreat manner, of those higher powers of life and those secrets of nature\nwhich he had previously possessed and understood. For even in the body\nof his earthly tabernacle, which had fallen a prey to death, he had\nbecome deteriorated, and his organic constitution, as is expressly\nintimated, fell considerably lower in the scale of sensible existence,\nand sunk nearer to the level of the brute creation. On this account the\ncherubic sentinels, with the flaming sword, were placed at the gate of\nParadise, that man might not stretch forth his hand to seize again the\nrights and privileges which he had formerly enjoyed. For now they would\nonly have led to more mischievous abuse and deeper corruption. But since\nthen, many great days of creation have come and gone. Again has the\ngreat relation between God and man been restored, and that also between\nman and the sensible world with the spirits and forces that rule\ntherein, has changed and become new. And now that the beginning is made,\nand the foundation laid for the Redemption of the world, no man, no one\nat least who will loyally join the banner of the Redeemer, is forbidden,\nbut every one has freely offered to him the divine, flaming, two-edged\nsword of the Spirit--or of the Word, and of the thoughts of the heart\nunited to Him, enlightened by Him, and emanating from Him. This fact of\nitself furnishes at once the answer to the question concerning the\nsecrets of nature, whether, since they are no longer to be kept close\nfrom man, impure and wicked hands may drag them to the light, or whether\nit be not better that they should be touched by the holy and\nconscientious alone, and faithfully guarded with a pious reserve and\nreligious delicacy.\n\nAnd here the very context suggests naturally the consideration of the\nlast of the three steps which, following the course marked out for it by\nGod, the human mind has at last made in very modern times toward a true\nphysical science, and a right understanding of the most inmost secrets\nof nature. It consists in a closer observation and a commencing\nrecognition of a sacred thread of ensouled life--of an internal\nsoul-like link which holds together the whole frame of nature. The thing\nand force itself are as old as the world and every sphere of\nexistence--all the leaves of tradition and history are full of its\nmanifestations and effects. But the methodical observation and treatment\nof these phenomena (in which alone the true scientific character\nconsists) dates its commencement within little more than half a century\nago. To speak, therefore, agreeably to the measure of time in the slow\ndevelopment of science, it is of yesterday or the day before; and it is\neven on this account also that I have been constrained to count this\nthird and last advance toward a higher science of nature, as nothing\nmore than a half-step. For it is only a beginning which as yet has\ngained no firm footing in the minds of men, and, moreover, besides the\nright and direct road, it has already opened many by-paths of possible\nerror. This only direct road, that higher standard of correct judgment\nwhich at the very commencement we alluded to as the guiding rule in\nthese matters, must be sought by philosophy in that divine sword of the\nSpirit which pierces even to the marrow of life, dividing soul and\nspirit, and which also is a discerner of spirits. But, if another\nstandard and a higher tribunal is to be set up, then I must leave it to\nothers who, perhaps, know more about the matter than I do, and are\nbetter qualified to decide upon it. This spiritual warfare, at any rate,\ncan not be much longer eluded or avoided. O that men would take therein\nHoly Writ exclusively for their guide! For it, indeed, regards the whole\nof life, and every important moment of it, as a conflict with invisible\npowers; as also it tacitly implies, or expressly intimates that the\nwhole sensible world is to be looked upon as nothing else than an almost\ntransparent, and, at all events, a very perishable veil of the spiritual\nworld. To the leader of the rebel spirits the Bible ascribes so great an\ninfluence in creation, that it calls him the prince, nay, even the god\nof this world--the ruler of its principalities and powers. And in order\nthat this might not be taken in a mere figurative sense, and be\nunderstood only of a race of men morally corrupt and depraved, these\nspiritual potentates are in other places expressly called the elementary\npowers of nature--powers of the air, which in this dark planetary world\nof ours is compounded of light and darkness, and ever struggling between\nlife and death. The true key and explanation of the whole may, however,\nlie in the simple sentence--\u201cDeath came into the world by sin.\u201d As,\nthen, by the death of the first man, who was not created for, nor\noriginally designed for death, death has passed upon the whole human\nrace; so by the earlier fall of him, who had been the first and most\nglorious of created spirits, death passed upon the universe--that\neternal death whose fire is unquenchable. Hence it is written: \u201cDarkness\nwas on the face of the deep, and the earth\u201d--as the mere grave of that\neternal death--\u201cwas without form and void;\u201d but the \u201cspirit of God moved\non the face of the waters,\u201d and therein lay the first germ of life for\nthe new creation. We here see the difference between all heathen systems\nof natural philosophy and a divine knowledge of nature, _i.e._, one\nacquired in and by God, and also the key for a right understanding of\nthe latter.\n\nIf now the dynamic play of the living forces of nature, which is\nunquestionably a living entity, and has a life in itself though not\nindeed of and from itself--if this dynamical alternation between life\nand death be regarded as a simple fact, and man is content to rest\nthere, without seeking to explain it by a higher principle, then will he\nhave ever the self-same One--an all-producing, all-absorbing, ruminating\nmonster, whether we express it poetically, as in mythology, or in the\nscientific formularies of physiology. Quite different is it, however, if\nthis great pyramid has been built upon the foundation of eternal death.\nThen is the whole creature of this earthly planet and sensible world\nmerely a commencing life which, so long as the pyramid is still\nunfinished and incomplete, is, in parts, perpetually relapsing into\ndeath--into actual death, or at least into diseases and fractures of\nvarious kinds, which are only so many _principia_ or germs of death.\nThen is nature itself nothing less than the ladder of resurrection,\nwhich, step by step, leads upward, or, rather, is carried from the abyss\nof eternal death up to the apex of light in the heavenly illumination.\nFor, understanding it in this sense, it is impossible to think of nature\nwithout remembering at the same time the divine hand which has built\nthis pyramid, and which, along this ladder, brings life out of death.\nThis view, moreover, accounts for the fact, that a state of slumber is\nessential to nature, and furnishes an explanation why that\nperpetually-recurring collapse into sleep, which to us appears so near\nakin to death, should be nature\u2019s proper character. And just as the\nconsuming fire of death appears in the more highly-organized beings to\nbe somewhat subdued and restrained--mitigated or exalted into the\nquickening warmth of life--so also sleep is only the more than\nhalf-enlightened brother of death. And indeed as such, and the lovely\nmessenger of hope to immortal spirits, was he ever regarded and\ndescribed by the ancients; but that which for them was little more than\na beautiful image of poetry is for us the profoundest of truths.\n\nAn exalted view and understanding of nature consists, then, in its being\ncontemplated not merely as a dynamical play of reciprocal forces, but\nhistorically in its course of development, as a commencing life,\nperpetually relapsing into death, ever disposed to sleep, and only\npainfully raising itself, or, rather, raised and lovingly guided through\nall the intermediate grades into the light. But beneath the huge\ntombstone of outward nature there sleeps a soul, not wholly alien, but\nhalf akin to ourselves--which is distracted between the troubled and\npainful reminiscence of eternal death, out of which it issued, and the\nflowers of light which are scattered here and there on this dark earth,\nas so many lovely suggesters of a heavenly hope. For this earthly\nnature, as Holy Writ testifies,[24] is, indeed, subject to nullity, yet,\nwithout its will, and without its fault: and consequently in hope of Him\nwho has so subjected it, it looks forward in the expectation that it\nshall one day be free, and have a part in the general resurrection and\nconsummate revelation of God\u2019s glory, before which both nature and death\nshall stand amazed--and for this last day of a new creation it sighs\nanxiously, and yearns with the profoundest longing.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE V.\n\nOF THE SOUL OF MAN IN RELATION TO GOD.\n\n\nA divine science of nature--one, _i.e._, which is ever looking to and\nhas its root in God, unlike the old heathen physiologies--sees something\nmore in nature than a mere endless play of living forces and the\nalternations of dynamical action. Contemplating it rather as a whole,\nand in the connection of its several parts, it traces it from the first\nfoundation on which it was originally raised, up to the final\nconsummation which the Almighty has designed it to attain. Now, to such\na mode of studying it, nature appears to be in its beginning, as it\nwere, a bridge thrown across the abyss of eternal death and eternal\nnothingness. And in perfect agreement with this origin or foundation, it\nexhibits itself at the outset as a house of corruption, a character\nwhich, to a certain degree, it subsequently and long afterward retains.\nAfter a while, however, this house of corruption is transformed, by the\nomnipotence of the good Creator, into a laboratory of new life, and\nfinally is raised into a ladder of resurrection, ascending, or, rather,\nis made to conduct, step by step, to the highest pitch of earthly\nglorification, in which nature, too, has a promise that she shall\npartake. This was the subject of the preceding Lecture, and it naturally\nenough suggests the further question, whether a similar scale of gradual\nexaltation exists for the human soul, which, even while it is in many\nrespects akin to mother earth and to nature generally, is, nevertheless,\nfar more excellent, and, by its innate dignity, claims to be regarded as\nthe very head and crown of this earthly creation. The inquiry then,\nwhether the soul of man, gradually rising out of the depths of this\nperishable existence and the bondage of corruption, up to God, can\napproach nearer to, and finally be totally identified with Him; or at\nleast, whether it is capable of being united in a perfect and lasting\nharmony with the superior powers of a higher and a diviner region--this\nwill form the theme of our present disquisition. In discussing it,\nhowever, our attention will be directed principally to its psychological\naspect--its relation, _i.e._, to the theory of consciousness. For the\nmoral examination of this subject, even if it be not allowable to assume\nthat it, at all events, is well known, belongs to another department of\ninquiry.\n\nNow, on this head, the following remark immediately and naturally\nsuggests itself to the reflecting mind. Unless the soul be at unity with\nitself it can not hope ever to be one with, or to attain to an harmonic\nrelation with that Being, who, as he is the one source and principle of\nall and on whom all depends, is in himself a pure harmony. But so far is\nthis condition from being fulfilled in the actual state of the human\nconsciousness, that the latter appears rather to consist of pure and\nendless discord. Fourfold, I said, is man\u2019s consciousness; and I called\nits four conflicting forces, viz., understanding and will, reason and\nfancy, its four poles, or chief branches, or even the four quarters of\nthe internal world of thought. How seldom, however, do the understanding\nand will agree together. Does not each of them prefer to follow an\nindependent course of its own? How seldom do men really and\nperseveringly will and desire what they clearly see and acknowledge and\nperfectly understand to be the best! And how often, on the other hand,\ndo we understand little or nothing of that, which yet in the inmost\nrecesses of our hearts, we most desire and wish, and most ardently and\ndeterminedly resolve upon! Reason and fancy, too, both in the inner\nthought and in outward life also, are, on the whole, in hostile conflict\nwith each other. Reason would wish to suppress or at least to dispense\naltogether with fancy, while fancy, caring, for the most part, but\nlittle or nothing for the reason, goes its own way. The will, moreover,\nunceasingly distracted, is never even at peace with itself, while the\nreason, standing alone in the endless evolution of its own thought,\nentangles itself at last in a labyrinth of irreconcilable\ncontradictions. The understanding, again, has so many grades and\nspecies, and divides itself among so many spheres and functions, that in\nthis respect we might be justified in saying: This one understanding\nunderstands not the other, even though it be equally correct both in\nitself and in its mode of operation. And thus, too, in the individual:\nhis understanding, the sum, _i.e._, of all that he understands,\nconsists, for the most part, but of rags and fragments of truth, which\noften enough do not match very well, and seldom, if ever, admit of being\nmade to blend harmoniously together. And so, too, is it in all that\nbelongs to, and is under the influence of fancy. The subjective views,\nfor instance, and conceits of man--the delusions of his senses, the\nrapidly changing meteors and unsubstantial phantoms of human passion,\nare things only too well known, self-evident, and universally\nacknowledged.\n\nSo profound, then, even in a psychological point of view, and apart from\nthe multiplied phases which the moral aspect presents, appears the\ndiscord which reigns in our whole mind as at present constituted!\nDissension seems to be interwoven into its fundamental fabric. Instead,\ntherefore, of saying the human consciousness is fourfold, with equal, if\nnot with greater correctness, we might and ought to say, it is divided,\nor, rather, split, into four or more pieces. It is common enough to\nspeak of _facts_ of consciousness. And yet how seldom among philosophers\nis any thing more meant by this expression than the mere thinking of\nthoughts, in the eternal repetition of the same empty process in which\nthe thinking _Ego_ thinks itself, and by means of which the _Me_ is, as\nit were, seized in the very act, and then, as the first beginning, the\nimaginary Creator and Demiurge of the ideal world, this _Me_ is hung out\nlike a gilded pennon from the top of the whole artificial system.[25]\nThe only fact of the consciousness that really deserves to be so named\nis its internal dissension. And this discord not only reveals itself in\nthought between the Me and Not Me, but pervades the whole and all its\nbranches, or parts and forms, its species and spheres, in mind and soul,\nunderstanding and will, reason and fancy, which every where manifests\nitself, and of which the thousandfold material discords of man\u2019s outer\nlife is only the reflection--its natural consequence and further\ndevelopment. From this fact of the manifold and ever-varying dissension\nof the human consciousness an exposition of philosophy might not\ninappropriately set out, in order from this point to seek the solution\nof its peculiar problem, and the right road for the attainment of its\nend. For the problem of philosophy, as contemplated from this side,\nwould consist in the restoration of that original, natural, and true\nstate of the consciousness in which it was at unity and in harmony with\nitself. It is a leading error of philosophy that it views the present\nstate of the human consciousness as even its right one, which requires\nonly to be raised to a higher power in order to be cleansed from the\ntaint of commonness of the ordinary way of thinking which clings to it\namong the ignorant and unphilosophical, and thereupon to be comprised in\nstrangely artificial and seemingly most profound formul\u00e6. But by such an\ninvolution to a higher power the error is not got rid of, but rather the\nevil itself is aggravated, since it is contained in the root itself, and\nis to be found in the inmost structure of the consciousness. Besides, it\ncan not have been the original constitution of man\u2019s mind to be thus a\nprey to manifold dissension, and split, as it were, into pieces and\nquartered. This discord is, undoubtedly, in the true meaning of the\nword, a fact, the only one which every individual can without hesitation\nvouch for on the immediate and independent testimony of his own\nexperience. For the cause of this well-authenticated fact we have only\nto look to that event which revelation has made known, of which each man\nmust perceive the sad traces within his own heart. It began with that\neclipse of the soul which preceded and commenced the present state of\nman, and was occasioned by the intervention of a foreign body between it\nand the sun which gave it light. But if the soul, the thinking as well\nas the loving soul, be the center of consciousness, then, in this great\nand general darkening of the center, the entire sphere, in its whole\nessence and structure, must have been altered. And, consequently, in its\nphilosophical aspect, and apart from all special moral depravity in the\nindependent actions, evil habits and passions of individuals, the soul\nis no longer what it was originally, as created and designed by the\nAlmighty.\n\nThus, then, the whole human consciousness is filled with unmitigated\ndiscord and division, not merely in its mixed rational and sensuous or\nterrestrial and spiritual nature, but thought itself is at issue with\nlife. And, moreover, while in the thought the internal and the external,\nfaith and science, are involved in a hostile contrariety, disturbing and\ndestroying each other, so is it also in life with the finite and the\ninfinite, the transitory and the imperishable. In such a state of\nthings, therefore, and from this point of view, the problem of\nphilosophy, as already remarked, can not well be any other than the\nrestoration of the consciousness to its primary and true unity, so far\nas this is humanly possible. Now that this true and permanent unity, if\nit be at all attainable, must be looked for in God, is at all events an\nallowable hypothesis. For it will not be disputed, except by one who\nholds both this unity itself and its restitution to be absolutely\nimpossible. But this is a point on which much may be advanced on both\nsides, and which, therefore, since mere disputing can avail nothing\neither one way or the other, can only be decided by the fact--the issue\nof the attempt. On this hypothesis, then, even philosophy must in every\ncase take God for the basis of its speculations--set out from Him, and\ndraw in every instance from this divine source. But then, considered\nfrom this point of view, and pursuing this route, it is no idle\nspeculation and simple contemplation of the inner existence and thought\nalone--no dead science--but a vital effort and an effectual working of\nthe thought for the restoration of a corrupt and degraded consciousness\nto its natural simplicity and original unity. And this is the way which\nwe have marked out for the course of our speculations, or, rather, the\nend which we must strive, however imperfectly, yet at least to the best\nof our abilities, to attain to. And, accordingly, each of the four\npreceding Lectures, although in free sketchy outline, contains an\nattempt to put an end to and reconcile some particular schism among\nthose which are the most marked and predominant in the consciousness,\nand which in essential points must disturb the whole of life. How far in\nthese four introductory essays this problem has been satisfactorily or\ncompletely solved and happily settled, is a question which will be best\nand most fairly tested by the idea of philosophy, as having its true end\nand aim in the restoration of this corrupt consciousness to its sound\nstate--to its original unity and full energy of life.\n\nThe discord between philosophy itself and life was the first that I\nattempted to get rid of. But now, if in the place of abstract thought\nand the dialectical reason, we are entitled to look to the thinking and\nloving soul for the true center of man\u2019s consciousness, then the\nimaginary partition-wall between science and life at once crumbles away.\nOur second Lecture was occupied with the discord which subsists between\nthe finite and the infinite--the eternal and the perishable; and,\nbecause this involved a problem which can only be solved by life and\nreality, I therefore confined myself to pointing out the way in which we\nmay hope to discover their unity and equation. With this view, I\nattempted to establish a vivid conviction that there is a true\nenthusiasm wherein the illimitable feeling manifests itself as actual,\nand that even the earthly passion of love assumes, in the holy union of\nfidelity and wedlock, the stamp of the indissoluble and eternal, and\nbecomes the source of many divine blessings, and of many moral ties,\nwhich are stronger, and furnish a firmer moral basis to society, than\nany general maxims, or than any ethical theory which is built upon such\nnotional abstractions, far more than upon the pregnant results of the\nexperience of life. And lastly, in pure longing, I pointed out an effort\nof man\u2019s consciousness directing itself to an infinite, eternal, and\ndivine object. But, as this longing can only evince its reality by the\nfruits it brings forth, I reserved, to a future opportunity, the more\nprecise determination of this question. The theme of our third Lecture\nwas the existence and the reconciliation of that schism which, both in\nthought and life, divides the internal and the external worlds. If all\nknowing be a mere process of the reason, then must this discord between\nthe inner and the outer be forever irreconcilable, and we should be\nutterly at a loss to conceive how a foreign and alien body could ever\nhave found entrance from without into our Me, and become an object of\nits cognition. But if every species of knowing be positive--if, also,\nthe cognition of the spiritual and divine be nothing else than an\ninternal and higher science of experience, then the idea of revelation\nfurnishes at once the key to explain, while it establishes the\npossibility of a knowledge of the divine. And this remark admits, also,\nof application to nature itself, when we consider it in its totality and\ninternal constitution, and speak of a knowledge of these things--of the\nvital force which rules in it, or its animating soul; for this, indeed,\neludes our grasp, but yet speaks plainly to us--to him, at least, who is\nwise to understand nature\u2019s language. For if, in attempting to\nunderstand nature, we isolate her, as it were, and exclude all reference\nto Him who gave her being, and has assigned, also, her limits and her\nend--if, in short, we disturb the two poles of a right understanding of\nnature, then, most assuredly, will the effort be fruitless, and all our\nlabor unprofitable. Man, however, has gone still further, and by\ntransferring the innate discord of his internal consciousness to outward\nobjects, has forcibly rent asunder God and Nature--he has thus divorced\nthe sensible world and its Maker, and set them in hostile array against\neach other, and thereby brought physical science in collision with the\nknowledge of divine things and with revelation. Our fourth Lecture,\ntherefore, was consecrated to an attempt to effect here, also, a\nreconciliation, or, at least, to lay the first stone, and to mark out\nthe road by which alone we could hope to arrive at so desirable a\nresult: and this is a problem which is even the more important the truer\nit is, that this discord is not confined to science and the scientific\ndomain, but extends, also, to real life, where these discrepant views\nand modes of thinking are arrayed against each other in so many hostile\nand conflicting parties. And although, as differing merely as to the\nform and direction of thought, they do not come forward in so distinct a\nshape, or under such characteristic names, as the parties in religion\nand politics, still this dissension is not, therefore, less real and\nuniversal, or its effects and influence less noticeable. Of these\nparties the first, and by far the most numerous, is the sect of the\nrationalists, who doubt indiscriminately of all things, and test every\nmatter by the standard of their own skepticism. The second class is\nformed of the exclusive worshipers of nature, and has many members among\nscientific men; while, lastly, the third consists of those who derive,\nfrom the positive source of a divine decision, the law of their thinking\nand the standard of their judgment. Now, this last party, if it would\nonly go a few steps farther, and draw still deeper from this source,\nwould be able to assign its appropriate place and value to every potence\nand truth in the other species of thought and knowledge, and even\nthereby might qualify itself to dissolve and reconcile the all-pervading\ndiscord. But inasmuch as they do not adopt this conciliatory attitude\ntoward natural, historical, and even artistic knowledge, so far as they\nare true, but, on the contrary, in a spirit of animosity, attempt to\ncircumscribe and set negative limits to them, if not absolutely to\nreject them as worthless and profane--then, when they least wish it,\nthey really sink into a party no less than the other two. And thus,\nwhile they might occupy a far higher position, they fall to the level of\nthe rest, and contribute, on their part, an element to the intellectual\nstrife, and tend to promote and perpetuate it. The three parties, then,\nwhich by their ruling ideas divide life and age, are the rational\nthinkers, the worshipers of nature, and those who, in all controverted\nquestions, appeal absolutely to a higher and divine authority; for\ninasmuch as the sentence of the latter is only of a negative import, it\nis therefore insufficient to meet all the requisitions of life.\n\nThus, then, have I led your consideration to four different points, in\norder to seize and exhibit, in as many different forms and spheres, this\ngreat fact of the dissension in man\u2019s consciousness, as it exists at\npresent. In a similar manner, too, a fourfold attempt has been made to\nremedy its hereditary disease, which has been inherent in it since the\noriginal darkening of the soul at the Fall, and, by appeasing the\ndiscord which, as it is all-pervading and universal, assumes manifold\nshapes and forms, to make the first step of return and approximation\ntoward the original harmonic unity. Having considered the matter in\nthese four special points of view, it will not, I hope, appear premature\nif I now propose the question in a more general point of view, which\nwill embrace the whole human consciousness itself; but, at the same\ntime, limit our consideration of it exclusively to its psychological\naspect.\n\nNow it is in nowise difficult to conceive of the human soul as much\nsimpler than it is, and apart from that division of it into several\nfaculties, which is at most, and properly, but an accident of its\nexistence. One of the first among the modern philosophers of Germany,\nsays somewhere of the soul, that the supposition of its existence is\nsuperfluous, and that it is a pure fiction.[A] But this statement was\nthe result of his having abandoned in his system the true center of life\nand consciousness; whoever, on the contrary, adheres steadily thereto,\nwill never concur in a position which simply, as contradicting the\ngeneral feeling of human nature, requires no elaborate refutation. But\nas regards the two parts into which the soul is divided, viz., Reason\nand Fancy--these, at any rate, are no fiction, but exist really and\ntruly within the consciousness, where, as in life itself, they often\nstand confronting each other in hostile array. This division can not\nwell be called superfluous, but yet it does not admit of being\nconsidered absolutely necessary, and belonging to the soul\u2019s original\nessence. If all thinking were a living cogitation--if the thinking and\nthe loving soul had remained at unity in their true center, then the\nexternal methodical thought and the internal productive thinking,\nmeditating, and invention, would not be separate and divorced--at least\nthey would not come into hostile conflict with each other, but would\nrather be harmoniously combined in the living cogitation of the loving\nsoul. The several forms, too, of a higher love and a higher endeavor,\naye, every lawful earthly inclination, would be blended in this harmony\nof the soul, and no longer stand out as a separate and isolated faculty,\noccasionally conflicting with all the others. Even the conscience would\nno longer appear as a special act or function of the judgment, of a\ndistinct and peculiar kind, but would be absorbed in the whole as a\ndelicate internal sensibility and the pulse of the moral life.\n\nAs for sensation and memory, they are in any case but ministering\nfaculties, which only appear distinct and independent under the\ninfluence of the prevailing tendency to separation and disunion, but on\nthe supposition of a simpler and more harmonious consciousness, would be\ncounted merely as bodily organs. If, then, the soul had not suffered an\neclipse--if it had remained undisturbed in the clear light of God--then\nwould man\u2019s consciousness also have been much simpler than it now is,\nwith all those several faculties which we at present find and\ndistinguish in it. In such a case, it would consist only of\nunderstanding, soul, and will. For if, according to the three directions\nof its activity, any one should still be disposed to divide it into the\nthinking, the feeling, and the loving soul, still this would not be\nfounded on any intrinsic strife or discord, but they would all combine\nharmoniously together, and in this harmonious combination be at unity\namong themselves. As for the distinction between understanding and will,\nthat would still remain, since it is essential to mind or spirit, and\nmay, in a certain sense, be ascribed even to the uncreated spirits. But\nin this garden of the soul of inward illumination--on this fruitful soil\nof harmonized thought and feeling--they would walk amicably together,\nand work in common, and would not, as hostile beings, turn aside in\nopposite directions, or as is mostly the case in actual life, be divided\nfrom each other by an impassable gulf, and never meet in friendly\ncontact.\n\nThus nearly, or somewhat similarly, must we conceive of, and attempt to\nrepresent to ourselves, the human mind in its original state, before it\nwas darkened, rent asunder, and condemned to lasting discord, but was as\nyet eminently simple and perfectly harmonious.\n\nAnd now as regards understanding and will, as a division of powers\nessential to the mind or spirit, which, however, as such, is not\nnecessarily inharmonious: the expression already touched upon of another\nof our modern German philosophers, will serve as a transition to and\ncommencing point for my remarks. According to this memorable assertion\nwith regard to the mind [_geist_], and which will serve as an\nappropriate pendent to that last quoted about the soul, the essence of\nmind or spirit in general consists in the negation of the opposite.[26]\nNow I can not stop at present to inquire what sense this would give, if\napplied to the uncreated spirit, and the Creator of all other spiritual\nbeings. But as concerns created spirits: their essence, contrariwise,\nconsists principally in an eternal affirmation. But this, however, they\nhave not of and from themselves, but it is the affirmation of the one to\nwhich God has exclusively destined them. But it is not of themselves,\nbut of God and His energy, of whom these created spirits are, as it\nwere, but a ray--a spark of His light--therefore, in this ray, not only\nsight and understanding, but also thought and deed, will and execution,\nare simultaneous and identical. And it is in this respect that they are\nso totally different from men. Now this ray of light, imparted to them\nfrom God, is nothing less than the thought of their destination--of the\npurpose of their being--in a word, their mission, if we may speak after\na human fashion, and in the prevailing phraseology. And, indeed, in all\nancient languages, the pure created intelligences have these names from\nthat mission which constitutes their essence; for their essence is even\nperfectly identical with this divine mission or inborn eternal\naffirmation. To the fallen spirits, on the other hand, the maxim above\nquoted applies truly enough: their essence consists, not in the divine\naffirmation, or the mission which they have abandoned, but rather in the\neternal, though bootless, denial of their opposite, which is even\nnothing less than the divine order. For to their ambitious intellect and\nperverse wills, the latter, in all probability, appeared far too loving,\nand, therefore, unintelligible; while, to their censorious judgment, it\nseemed deficient in rigor of consequence, and not unconditional and\nabsolute enough.\n\nAll that has hitherto been said reduces itself to the following result.\nAs by the first obscuration and eclipse of the human soul the very body\nof man was deteriorated, and having been originally created with a\ncapacity of immortality, fell a prey to death, and received the germs,\nor became liable to many diseases, as roots of death--which is not guilt\nitself, but the natural result of guilt--so in his consciousness there\nwas then implanted, and has ever since been propagated, a germ of\nintellectual death, and manifold seeds of error, which, however, are not\na new sin, but merely the natural consequences of the first sin and the\noriginal corruption of the soul. In four different forms, according to\nthe four cardinal points and fundamental faculties of the human\nconsciousness, does this inborn error and fruitful germ of erroneous and\nfalse thinking show and develop itself. We have already spoken of this\nfutile idea of the deadness of all external life, which has taken such\ndeep root in the center of all human thought--in the dead abstract\nnotion and the empty formula, and which, clinging as an original taint\nto the human mind as at present constituted, renders it so difficult for\nall those who, not content with merely observing nature, wish really to\nunderstand it in its living operation, and, moreover, to imitate in\nthought its dynamical law, and the inner pulse of its vital forces. For\nin the abstract notion all this evaporates, and when confined within\nsuch dead formularies, the true life of nature quickly becomes extinct.\nThis, therefore, is the primary source of error--the leading species of\nbarren and futile thinking in the abstract understanding. But now this\ndead and lifeless cogitation of abstract ideas, with its processes of\ncombining and inferring, or of analyzing and drawing distinctions, may\nbe carried on into infinity, as being that wherein the essence or\nfunction of reason consists, and also as giving rise to interminable\ndisputes and contradictions. Consequently this form of the reason, which\nis ever pursuing dialectical disputations, or else skeptically\nrenouncing its own authority, even because it never allows itself to\nproceed in what alone is its legitimate course, becomes thereby a second\nsource of error and false thinking among men. And, indeed, this\nerroneous procedure of the dialectical reason, which is incessantly\nworking out or analyzing its abstract notions, is the effect of the\npresent constitution of the human mind; so that no individual can in\njustice be blamed on its account, nor can its perverted conclusions and\ncorrupting results be fairly imputed to ulterior views and principles of\nan immoral character.\n\nIn considering the imagination as a source of error, we have no need to\nselect the instance of a fancy satanically inflamed to passion, or\nsatanically deluded, or even one of a purely materialistic bias and\nleaning. For fancy, even in its greatest exaltation and purest form, is\nat best but a subjective view and mode of cogitative apprehension, and,\nconsequently, as such, is ever a fruitful parent of delusion. How very\nrarely an imagination is to be found which is not predominantly\nsubjective, is shown precisely in the very highest grade of its\ndevelopment--in the creations of imitative art. Of the exalted geniuses\nwho in single ages and nations have distinguished themselves from the\ngreat mass, and attained to that rare eminence--the reputation of the\ntrue artist; out of this short list of great names, how few can be\nselected of whose productions it can be truly said and boasted--Here in\nthis picture we have something more than a mere general view, or the\npeculiar fantasy of an individual; here life and nature stand before us\nin their full truth and objective reality, and speak to us in that\nuniversal language, which is intelligible to men of all countries and\nall times! And the same remark applies to the whole domain of scientific\nthought in general; but especially to physical and historical science.\n\nIn like manner, in the sphere of the will, it is not merely immoral\nvolitions, which, as such, must ever be false and wrong, that are\nexclusively the source of erroneous thought. The spring of those errors\nwhich we are at present considering lies in the very form of the will\nitself, _i.e._, in the absolute willing, even though its object and end\nbe, in themselves, perfectly legitimate and unexceptionable. That this\nabsolute willing--or, to speak more humanly, and in ordinary language,\nself-will and obstinacy--is a fundamental and hereditary failing of the\nhuman character, as at present constituted, which shows itself in the\nvery youngest children, with the first dawn of reason, and requires to\nbe most watchfully checked, is but too well known to every teacher and\nevery mother. But not in infancy only, but also in the most important\nand comprehensive relations of life--nay, even in the history of the\nworld--this same absolute willing proves the most pernicious of all the\nsources of error and corruption in the soul and life of man, even when\nits object is not unmitigatedly bad, or when, perhaps, it may even\ndeserve to be called great and noble. It is through this absolute\nwilling that the sovereign with unlimited authority, even though he be\ngifted with a strong and comprehensive intellect, and possessed of many\nestimable qualities and moral virtues, becomes, nevertheless, the\noppressor of his people and the merciless tyrant. Through it, also, in\nstates which are not monarchical, but where the supreme authority is\ndivided among several estates, views and principles which, calmly\nconsidered and duly limited by opposing principles, are true and\nbeneficial, by being advanced absolutely, and without qualification, are\nconverted into so many violent factions, which, distracting the minds of\nmen and inflaming their passions, produce a wide-spread and fearful\nanarchy.\n\nThe dead abstract notions of the intellect, the dialectical disputes of\nthe reason, the purely subjective and one-sided apprehension of objects\nby a deluded fancy, and the absolute will, are the four sources of human\nerror. Considered apart from the aberrations of passion, special faults\nof character, and prejudices of education, as well as the false notions\nand wrong judgments to which the latter give rise--these four are the\nsprings from which flows all the error of the soul which makes itself\nthe center of the terrestrial reality, and which, springing out of this\nsoil, is nourished and propagated by it. To what, then, are we to look\nto dispel these manifold delusions but to a closer and more intimate\nunion of the soul with God as the source of life and truth?\n\nWhat, let us therefore ask, is the organ by which such closer union with\nand immediate cognition of God is to be effected? Plainly not the\nunderstanding, even though as the cognitive sense of a revelation of\nspirit, and of the spirit of revelation, it carries us through the first\nsteps toward a right understanding of ourselves and the Creator. For so\nlong as we confine ourselves to the understanding, which, at most, is\nbut a preparatory and auxiliary faculty, we shall only make an\napproximation. It is only when the divine idea, passing beyond the\nunderstanding--the mere surface, as it were, of our consciousness--penetrates\ninto the very center of our being, and strikes root there, that it is\npossible, with a view to this end, to draw immediately from the primary\nsource of all life. Now, the organ which essentially co-operates in\nthis work is the will, which, in such co-operation however, divests\nitself entirely of its absoluteness. On this account I called the will\nthe sense for God, or the sense which is appropriated to the perception\nof Deity.\n\nBut before I proceed in my attempt to define and elucidate the nature of\nthis reciprocal action, and show how it is possible or generally\nconceivable, it will be necessary to premise one essential remark. I\nhave already attempted to discover and establish a special and\ncharacteristic mark for every sphere of life, and its highest and\nlowest grades. Thus, the proper and distinctive signature of nature, and\nall that belongs to it, is a state of slumber or sleep; the\ncharacteristic property of man, which distinguishes him from all other\nintellectual beings, is fancy; while the essential property of the pure\ncreated spirits is the stamp of eternity which is impressed on all their\noperations, by means of which they perform, with untiring energies,\ntheir allotted duties, without the alternation of repose or the\nnecessity of sleep, and by reason of which they remain forever what they\nonce begin to be. Applying the same line of thought to a higher region,\nI would now attempt to discover there some characteristic sign, by\nobserving which man may, perhaps, be able to find his true position.\nProceeding, then, in this line of thought, and preserving a due regard\nto the weakness of the human capacity, I would observe as follows. The\ncharacteristic, not, indeed, of the divine essence--for that is too\ngreat for man\u2019s powers of apprehension--but of the divine operations and\nHis influence on the creation and all created beings, consists in His\nincredible condescension toward these His creatures, and especially\ntoward man. Incredible, however, it may, nay, must and ought to be\ncalled, inasmuch as it transcends every notion, nay, all belief, even\nthe most confiding and childlike, and the more it is contemplated,\nappears the more inconceivable and amazing. Only it admits of question,\nwhether the expression be sufficiently simple and appropriate, and,\nconsequently, well-chosen; for the fact itself of this divine\ncondescension is affirmed in every line and word of revelation. And by\nrevelation I mean not merely the written revelation, but every\nmanifestation more or less distinct of God, and His divine operations\nand providence--history, nature, and life. Now, on no one point are the\nvoices of all, who on such a matter can be regarded as authorities, so\nperfectly concordant and unanimous, as on this wonderful attribute of\nthe Godhead, which, on the supposition that the belief in one living God\nis universal, may be considered as placed beyond doubt or question.\n\nIn order to demonstrate how essential is the co-operation of the will to\nthat living intercommunion with God, which is something more than a mere\nunderstanding, we advance the following assumptions. Supposing that in\nthe incredible condescension of His love, God has made Himself known to\na man, just as in the first books of our Holy Scripture He is described\nas conversing with Moses, and as familiarly as one friend talks to\nanother; supposing also that He revealed to him all the secret things of\nheaven and earth without reserve; that He at the same time laid open to\nhim His will and hidden counsels, and that not summarily and in a\ngeneral way, but definitely and in detail--expressly making known to him\nHis gracious purposes, both in what He at present requires of him and\ndesigns for him hereafter; that He has also pointed out to man the means\nwhich will enable him to accomplish His will, and, moreover, has added\nthe highest possible promises for his encouragement; supposing all this,\nis it not evident that it nevertheless could not help or profit man\nunless he consented to receive it? The whole divine communication would\nbe in vain if man obstinately continued in his old Egoism, mixed and\ncompounded of evil habits, fears, and sensual desires, and, unable to\ntear himself away, still clung close to the narrow limits of self and\nhis own Me.\n\nNow it is nothing but this intrinsic consent and concurrence in the will\nof God, this calm affirmation of it, that can help man, who is now left\nto his own free determination even as regards the Deity, and that can\nlead him to God. On this account I called the will, rather than the\nunderstanding, man\u2019s sense for the divine. But all that is here required\nis the internal assent, and not the power of actual performance; for\nthat varies even according to the standard of nature, or rather of that\nwhich is imparted to him from above, since of himself man has no\ncapacity for that which is higher and more excellent, nothing being\nman\u2019s own but his will. Now this internal assent and submission of man\u2019s\nown will to the divine is clearly inconceivable where it has not, to a\ncertain degree, withdrawn from the sensible world which surrounds him\nwith so many ties and allurements, and where it has not loosened and set\nitself free from the narrow domain of self to which his Ego so closely\nclings.\n\nHere, then, naturally arises the question, how far a renunciation of the\nworld and self-sacrifice, on which even the Platonic philosophy so\ngreatly insisted, is necessary, if we would advance one degree, or at\nleast one step, nearer to God, as the supreme good and all-perfect\nBeing, and what are its true and proper limits? In obedience to this\nidea of the renunciation of the world as indispensable to communion with\nGod, the Hindoo fakir will sit for thirty years in one spot, with his\neyes fixed immutably in the same direction, so that he not only\nsurpasses all the limits of human nature, but also erases and\nextinguishes all traces of it in himself. Or perhaps, in spite of the\nsimple principle and rule of sound reason, that man, as he is not the\nauthor of his own being, has no right to terminate it, he follows a\nfalse idea of self-sacrifice, and mounts the flaming pile in order to be\nthe sooner united to the Deity. In the fundamental idea of these\nextravagances there is doubtless a germ of beauty and of truth, though\nin the perverse application and gigantic scale of exaggeration that we\nmeet with it among the primeval nations of Asia, it is distorted into\nmonstrous falsehood. A simple illustration, taken from the different\nages of man\u2019s life, will perhaps serve to set in a clear light the point\non which every thing turns in this matter of the assent of the human to\nthe divine will, and to determine the sense and the degree in which man\nought not to give himself up entirely to the world, or to revolve\nclosely round the center of self, if he would yield a sincere and hearty\nsubmission to a higher voice and that guiding hand which conducts the\neducation of the whole human race, and watches with equal care the\ndevelopment of individuals and of ages. The child may and must play, for\nsuch exercise is wholesome and even necessary for the free expansion of\nits bodily powers; but at its mother\u2019s call, for to the child hers is\nthe higher voice, it ought to leave its play. Youth, again, ought to be\nmerry and enjoy the verdant spring; but when honor and duty summon to\nearnest action, then must he be ready to lay aside all light-hearted\namusement for sterner avocations; or to take another view of the\nyouthful temperament, should its joyousness touch too rudely, not to say\noverstep, the bounds of morality, then at the first hint of warning it\nmust abandon its treacherous pleasures. The full-grown man, too, having\nto make his way in the world and to fight with fortune in the hard\nstruggle of life, has little leisure for idle feelings and meditations;\nonly he must not renounce all higher and nobler sentiments, nor dismiss\nfrom his mind the thought of the Godhead and the divine (which indeed\nfor its mere preservation requires no outward ordinance or loss of\ntime), as belonging to the boy, and suitable only for the unripe years\nof youth. Or to regard life under its passive aspect, let us think of\nthe happy wife by the side of a husband she loves, and living only in\nher children, and possessing of worldly good as much as she wishes or\nrequires: suddenly, by one of those changes and chances which prevail in\nthis transitory life, she is bereaved of all--the partner of her joys\nand cares, the children of her bosom, and perhaps, too, of her rank and\nconsideration, while beneath the repeated strokes of affliction her very\nhealth sinks. Who would check her tears or blame her natural sorrow if\nshe feels and tells her woes? No one: for holier eyes than man\u2019s look\nupon her with compassion. One thing, however, may fairly and reasonably\nbe expected of her--that she do not give way entirely to despair, nor\nmurmur against Providence. More, therefore, than man requires of man in\nthe ordinary relations of life, God requires not of the human will; and\non that alone does He make any requisition, in respect to that free\nassent and internal concurrence which alone can bind us in personal\nunion with the Godhead, and bring us near to Him; a consummation which\nno mere intellectual apprehension of all possible revelations, whether\nwritten on the pages of inspiration, or on the open tablets of nature,\nor engraven on the imperishable annals of history, is sufficient to\nbring about.\n\nSo much and nothing more is required for this essential concurrence of\nthe human will with the divine, in the general relations of life. But,\nin the case of any special vocation and profession--if, for instance, a\nman feels himself disposed to become a minister of the revealed Word, an\ninstrument and messenger of the divine communications--then, no doubt,\nhigher and sterner requisitions must come into consideration. To men of\nnative courage, what vocation can be more universal than that of a\nsoldier and defender of his country? but does not it require, besides\nundaunted courage and contempt of death, the patient and enduring\nfortitude which bears up under countless hardships and privations? What\nvocation, again, can be simpler and more fully founded in nature, than\nthat of the softer sex to become a mother? but how many sufferings, and\nfears, and dangers, compass it about, and how infinite are the great and\nlittle anxieties to which a mother\u2019s love--that purest and truest of all\nearthly affections--is exposed? And it is even herein that human love\nmost betrays its weakness; it may suffice for some one determinate\ndirection, some transitory period of life, for some single effort of\nmagnanimity or self-sacrifice, but it rarely survives the changes of\ntime and fortune, and its faith and ardor too often are extinguished\namid the petty trials of every-day life, and its numberless cares and\nanxieties.\n\nAnd as with the love, so also is it with the faith of men: it enters not\nsufficiently into minuti\u00e6; it is not personal enough, nor sufficiently\nchildlike and confiding; it is not made to refer enough to ourselves.\nMost men, indeed, have only too high an opinion of their own worth--an\noverweening confidence in their own powers; at least, the opposite fault\nof extreme diffidence is a rare exception. But yet, it is true, men\ngenerally take far too low an estimate of their true vocation and proper\ndestiny; they believe not in its high dignity; and as viewed in its\nplace among the vast universe, they hold it and themselves as\ncomparatively insignificant. But this is a total misconception. Every\nman is an individual entity--an inner world of his own, full of life--a\ntrue microcosm (as has already been said in a different sense) in the\neye of God and in the scheme of creation: every man has a vocation of\nhis own, and an appropriate destiny. Could men\u2019s eyes be but once opened\nto see it, how would they be amazed at the infinity which they have\nneglected, and might have attained to, and which generally in the world\nremains neglected and unattained. But of the many thousands whom this\nremark concerns, how very few ever attain to a clear cognition of their\nreal destination! And the reason of this is simply the fact, that the\nfaith of men is all too weak, and, above all, that it is too vaguely\ngeneral, too superficial, too little searching or profound--not\nsufficiently personal and childlike.\n\nA childlike faith, and a love that endureth unto the end--these are the\ntrue bonds to hold the soul of man in intimate union with God. But it is\nin hope, such as is at present found among men, that the chief defect\nlies; for hope ought to be strong and heroic, otherwise it is not that\nwhich the name expresses. Few men, perhaps, are entirely devoid of faith\nand love, only they are not sufficiently carried into the details and\ntrifles of life, as human wants require; for it is exactly to these that\nall that is divine in men\u2019s thoughts and deeds ought to be directed. In\nhope, on the contrary, the inner man must raise himself and ascend up to\nGod: it must, therefore, be strong and energetic, if it is to be\nefficacious. On this account we might well expect it to be far more\nrare, comparatively, than faith and love, considered according to the\nhuman scale of reasoning; on the other hand, probably, there are many\nmen who, internally, are almost totally destitute of hope.\n\nThe longing after the eternal and divine, which has been already\ndescribed, is the seeking of God; but this calm, inward assent of the\nwill, whenever, with a childlike faith and enduring love, and in\nsteadfast hope, it is carried through and maintained with unwavering\nfidelity throughout life, is the actual finding of Him within us, and a\nconstant adherence to Him when once we have found Him. As the root and\nprinciple of all that is best and noblest in man, this divine longing\ncan not be too highly estimated, and nowhere is it so inimitably\ndescribed, and its excellence so fully acknowledged, as in Holy Writ\nitself. A remarkable instance of it is the fact that a prophet who was\nset apart and called by God Himself to his office, and was for that\npurpose endued with miraculous gifts, is expressly called in Holy Writ\nthe man of longings.[27] And yet this longing is nothing but the source,\nthe first root, from which springs that triple flower in the lovely\nsymbol of faith, hope, and charity, which afterward, spreading over\nevery grade and sphere of moral and intellectual existence, expands into\nthe richest and most manifold fruits.\n\nNow, it is very possible in some serious and intellectual work to feel a\npleasure in this triple union of holy thoughts and sentiments, as with\nany deeply-significant picture in general, without duly entering the\nwhile into its precise requisitions and profound meaning. But from one\nparticular end of a philosophy of life, _i.e._, of a thorough knowledge\nof the human consciousness, the psychological aspect of the subject\nassumes a peculiar importance, and essentially demands our attention.\nWith this view, I venture to assert that the human consciousness, which\notherwise and in itself is entirely a prey to discord, and split into\nirreconcilable contraries, is, by faith, hope, and love, redeemed from\nthis dissension--is raised from its innate law, of an erring and dead\nthought, and of an absolute will, which is no less dead and null, being\nrestored gradually to a perfect state of unison and harmony. Under the\ninfluence of faith--and by this term I understand, not the cold and\nheartless repetition of a customary formulary, but a living and personal\nfaith in a living and personal God and Savior--under the influence of\nsuch a faith, the living spirit of truth steps into that place of the\nconsciousness which before was usurped by the mere abstract thinking of\na degraded understanding. And whenever, on the other hand, a refined\ngoodness and love have in patient endurance become the soul of\nexistence, there is no room for the stormy obstinacy or passionate\nwildness of an absolute will. Even in the will itself all is now life;\ndiscord is banished from it, and all the threatening elements of strife\nare forever appeased. And in that trusting confidence with which the\nloving soul leans upon God--in the strong godlike hope which takes its\nstand upon the Eternal, the reason, with its ordering, regulating, and\nmethodical processes, and the fancy, with its dreams of the infinite,\nare again completely reconciled, and thereby the harmony of the human\nconsciousness restored. Fancy, I remarked formerly, is the\ncharacteristic property of man, as distinguished by it from other\nspiritual intelligences; for reason, as a mere faculty of negation,\naffords only a negative distinction of his nature as compared with\nirrational creatures. But now, in a more comprehensive view, and, at the\nsame time, with profounder significance and greater truth of\ndescription, we may say of man, in the same sense and in the same\nrelation, hope forms his characteristic property and his inmost essence.\n\nHere, then, in this holy hope, is longing, that marvelous flower of the\nsoul, expanded into its perfect and noblest fruit. If, in judging of the\nthree, man looks to the end to which he is to attain--if, in thought, he\nplaces himself at this point of view, then assuredly will love appear\nthe highest and the best; for hope ceases when fulfillment comes in, and\nsight enters into the place of faith, but love abideth forever.[28] As\nlong, however, as man has not yet attained unto that which is perfect,\nand is still in pursuit of it, hope must be regarded as the greatest,\nfor it is even the true vital flame of faith, as well as of love, and of\nall higher existence.\n\nThis divine hope is even the fruit-bearing principle and the\nfructification of the immortal soul by the Holy Spirit of Eternal\nTruth--the luminous center and focus of grace, where the dark and\ndiscordant soul is illuminated and restored to unison with itself and\nwith God.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VI.\n\nOF THE WISDOM OF THE DIVINE ORDER OF THINGS IN NATURE, AND OF THE\nRELATION OF NATURE TO THE OTHER LIFE AND TO THE INVISIBLE WORLD.\n\n\nThe highest and loftiest language would fail us were it our purpose to\nspeak of the inmost essence of the Godhead, since He is that which no\nthought or conception can comprehend, and which no words are sufficient\ncompletely to describe or adequately to express. On the other hand, when\nwe reflect on God\u2019s work in creation, and of His superintending\nprovidence which rules the course of this earthly world, our thoughts\ncan not be simple enough, nor, to judge by that principle of the divine\ncondescension which formed the nucleus of our remarks in the last\nLecture, too familiar or affectionate. In a general way this is commonly\nenough admitted, but practically it is neglected. Men do not clearly\npresent to their minds all that is involved in it, and the remote\nconsequences to which it leads. And so, in spite of their better\nconvictions, they insensibly adopt a high-sounding and solemn strain,\nwhen the tone of a childlike reverence is alone the suitable and\nappropriate style for expressing the relation between the benignant\nCreator and His creatures, and man especially, as simply and as\nnaturally as it is in reality.\n\nI said as naturally, because it is implied in the very nature of things\nthat if God did originally create free beings like men, He would give\nthem all things needful, keep them constantly in His regard, and every\nwhere lend them a helping and directing hand. But from time to time He\nmight, it is not inconsistent to suppose, withdraw, as it were, His\nguidance; for otherwise they would cease to be free beings. In this\nrespect the divine Providence may be likened to a mother teaching her\nchild to walk. Having chosen a clear spot, free from all things likely\nto hurt the infant in its fall, she places it firmly on its feet. For a\nlittle while she holds and supports it, and then, going back a few\nsteps, she waits for its love to set its little limbs in motion and to\nfollow her. But how watchful is her eye, how outstretched her arms to\ncatch her babe the instant it begins to totter! Such nearly, and equally\nsimple, is the relation of God to man; and not to individuals only, but\nalso to the whole human race. For in the divine education and higher\nguidance of mankind we may trace the same degrees and natural gradation\nof developments as form the basis of the education of individuals, and\nmay also be observed in all the processes of nature.\n\nNow we take it for granted that God has willed the creation not only of\nfree and pure spirits, but also of the natural world; for that He has so\nwilled is a fact that, as it were, stares us in the face. If, then,\nalong with the free spirits He has also created a nature, _i.e._, a\nliving reproductive power, capable of and designed to develop and\npropagate itself, it is plain that we can not and ought not to think of\nsuch a nature as independent and self-subsisting. For, first of all, it\nhad not its beginning in itself. Moreover, it would move as a blind\nforce, and as such manifest itself only in destruction and desolation,\nif its Maker had not originally fixed and assigned to it the end toward\nwhich all its efforts were ultimately to be directed. Nature, indeed, is\nnot free like man; but still it is not a piece of dead clock-work,\nwhich, when it is once wound up, works on mechanically till it has run\nitself down again. There is life in it. And if a few abstract but\nsuperficial thinkers have failed to discern, or even ventured expressly\nto deny this truth, the general feeling of mankind, on the other hand,\nbears witness to it. Yes, man feels that there is life rustling in the\ntree, as with its many arms and branches, its leaves and flowers, it\nmoves backward and forward in the free air; and that, as compared with\nthe clock, with all its ingenious but dead mechanism, it is even a\nliving thing. And what the common feeling of mankind thus instinctively\nassumes is confirmed by the profounder investigations of physical\nscience. Thus we know that even plants sleep, and they, too, as much as\nanimals, though after a different sort, have a true impregnation and\npropagation. And is not nature, on the whole, a life-tree, as it were,\nwhose leaves and flowers are perpetually expanding themselves and\nseeking nourishment from the balsamic air of heaven, while, as the sap\nrises from the deep-hidden root into the mighty stem, the branches stir\nand move, and invisible forces sweep to and fro in its waving crown.\nMost shallow and superficial, in truth, is that physical science which\nwould consider the system of nature, with all the marvels of beauty and\nmajesty wherewith its Maker has adorned it, as nothing more than a piece\nof lifeless clock-work. In such a system the all-mighty Creator must\nappear at best but a great mechanical artist who has at his command\ninfinite resources; or, if we may be allowed so absurd an expression, as\nthe fittest to expose the absurdity of those who would regard the divine\nwork, both in its whole and in its parts, as dead, an omnipotent\nclockmaker. If, however, to meet the needs of man\u2019s limited capacity, we\nmust, when speaking of the Creator, employ such trifling and childish\nsimiles, then of all human avocations and pursuits that of the gardener\nwill serve best to illustrate the divine operations in nature.\nAll-mighty and omniscient, however, He has Himself created the trees and\nflowers that He cultivates, has Himself made the good soil in which they\ngrow, and brings down from heaven the balmy spring, the dews and rain,\nand the sunshine that quicken and mature them into life and beauty.\n\nIf, then, there be life in nature, as, indeed, observation teaches, and\nthe general feeling of man avouches, it must also possess a vital\ndevelopment, which in its movements observes a uniform course and\nintrinsic law. In truth, the Creator has not reserved to himself the\nbeginning and the end alone, and left the rest to follow its own course;\nbut in the middle, and at every point, also, of its progress, the\nOmnipotent Will can intervene at pleasure. If He pleases He can\ninstantaneously stop this vital development, and suddenly make the\ncourse of nature stand still; or, in a moment, give life and movement to\nwhat before stood motionless and inanimate. Generally speaking, it is in\nthe divine power to suspend the laws of nature, to interfere directly\nwith them, and, as it were, to intercalate among them some higher and\nimmediate operation of His power, as an exception to their uniform\ndevelopment. For, as in the social frame of civil life, the author and\ngiver of the laws may occasionally set them aside, or, in their\nadministration, allow certain special cases of exception, even so is it,\nalso, with nature\u2019s Lawgiver.\n\nNow, this immediate operation, and occasional interference of Supreme\nPower with the order of nature, is exactly what constitutes the idea of\nmiracle. The general possibility of miracles is a principle which man\u2019s\nsound and unsophisticated reason has never allowed him to deny. But, on\nthe other hand, it is evidently essential to their very idea that they\nshould be thought of simply as deviations from the usual course of\nnature\u2019s operations; if they were not exceptions to the laws of nature,\nthen were they no miracles. Such miraculous exceptions, however, it may\nbe observed, need not invariably to be _contrary_ to the course of\nnature, though _above_ nature, and far transcending its ordinary\nstandard, they always are. Exceptions, therefore, they are; but such, at\nthe same time, as do not permanently disturb the natural course and flow\nof the vital development, which, on the whole, continues unchanged. For\nit is only agreeable with Creative wisdom to maintain the world so long\nas the present state of things subsists, and the final consummation has\nnot yet arrived, in the order originally prescribed to it by His\nomnipotence.\n\nTo this an objection might be made in the opposite sense. Taken then in\ntheir principle, the laws of nature, no less than those exceptions to\nthem which are usually called miracles, are one and the same; they are\nalike from the Creator of all--and the laws themselves, therefore, are\nequally miraculous. This remark is quite true; but it only teaches us\nthat we ought not to be too ready to see a miracle in every\nextraordinary event. But still, there will ever remain an essential\ndifference between an immediate operation of omnipotence and the\nCreator\u2019s original production of a living force, implanting in this\ncreature an inner law, and thereupon leaving to it the further evolution\nof its powers in the course marked out for and assigned to it.\n\nNow, if such a creature, like this terrestrial nature, be of a mixed\nconstitution, composed of a principle of destruction as well as of a\nprinciple of productive development and progression--if its life be a\nconstant struggle with death, then it is manifest that only by the same\nhand which first formed it, gave it laws, and prescribed its order, can\nits wise and divine economy be preserved, and the permanence of the\norganic evolution of its whole system be secured, and the outbursts of\nelementary dissolution, which are perpetually menacing it, held in check\nand averted. If this restraint be once relaxed, if the destructive\nenergy of the wild elements be once let loose, and free scope given to\ntheir fury--and this globe presents the manifest traces of one such\ncatastrophe, at least--then this, too, must be regarded as an exception,\nand is only explicable by the higher principle of divine permission.\nViewed, however, as the retribution of divine justice on a guilty\nworld, it forms an exception and a miracle of a peculiar kind, and must\nbe distinguished from those other extraordinary operations properly\ncalled miracles, wherein, with some saving or quickening purpose, the\nAlmighty, as it were, raises nature above herself, and takes her out of\nher usual course.\n\nIn this way, then, we ought unquestionably to refer every thing in the\nworld to its author and preserver, whether it be conformable to the\nusual course and order of nature, or, as an extraordinary phenomenon,\nbespeak a higher and more immediate operation of divinity. But, at the\nsame time, we must never forget that nature itself is a living force\nendowed with a capacity of self-development. Nature, indeed, is not free\nin the same sense that man is, possessed and conscious of a power of\nself-determination and choice; but as all life contains in itself the\ngerm of a free movement and expansion, and while it expands itself a\nhidden and slumbering consciousness begins to stir and awake, so also in\nnature, an initiatory or preparatory grade of it, if not fully\nout-spoken, is at least indicated. In this respect it may be regarded as\nthe vestibule of that temple of freedom which in man, the crowning work\nof this earthly creation, and made after the divine image and likeness,\nstands forth in its full dimensions and proportions. Considered from\nanother point of view, the sensible world may be looked upon as a veil\nthrown over the spiritual world--the light-flowing and almost\ntransparent robe, and, as it were, in all its parts the significant\ncostume of the invisible powers. But in no point of view can we rightly\nconsider nature as properly self-subsisting, or independent of its\nCreator, and, therefore, in no case as isolated by itself and apart from\nall reference to a superior being. Rather is it a living force, and one,\ntoo, doubly significant, both from within and from without; to which\nproperty an allusion is contained in the simile already employed, of a\nbook written both on the inside and the outside. These two ideas, then,\nof the free will of man and of the living development of nature, must be\ntaken as the basis, and serve as the fixed point of every attempt to\nascertain the divine order in nature. On this account we have placed\nthem in the foreground of the present Lecture, which will, in the main,\nbe consecrated to such an investigation.\n\nIf, now, this demonstration of a divine order in nature seem to contain\nnothing less than a kind of Theodic\u00e9e[29] (so far as man can establish a\njustification of God\u2019s ways), I, for my part, must confess that I would\nmuch rather have before my eyes a Theodic\u00e9e for the feelings, conceived\nin the very spirit of love, than any purely rational theory. For such\ntheories, founded in general on far-fetched hypotheses, subtilly\nintroduce into nature numberless divine purposes and designs, of which,\nhowever, we are able neither clearly to understand, much less to prove\nthat they were intended by the everlasting counsels, or even that such\nvestiges of a divine purpose are really discernible in the universe. In\nthis province of speculation we must not be too rigorous in our\ndeterminations, and especially we must guard against systematizing. But,\nabove all, we can not be too watchful against the fault which so many\nreasoners fall into, of transferring into the realm of nature, or of\nGod, that logical necessary connection which is a part of and connatural\nwith our rational constitution, and an indispensable aid to our limited\nintellectual powers. Such a way of thinking would inevitably lead us to\nthat most mistaken notion of a blind fate--the phantom of destiny.\n\nOn the other hand, how many are the questioning feelings and\nperplexities which arise in the human heart at the sight of certain\nnatural objects. And these even, because they are far from amounting to\ndoubts and objections, or at least from assuming a definite expression\nor a scientific dignity, seem, on that account, only the more loudly to\ndemand an answer. The mournful cry of some helpless and innocent animal\nwhen killed by man--or in a different category--the hissing of the\nvenomous serpent; the lothsome mass of maggots in the putrid corpse: all\nthese are but so many dumb exclamations which, as it were, do but keep\nback the question, Are, then, these the productions of the all-perfect\nBeing--of the Supreme Intelligence?\n\nThe sufferings of animals are indeed a theme for man to reflect upon;\nand I, for my part, can not concur with him who would regard this as a\ntopic unworthy of his thoughts, and expel from the human bosom all\nsympathy with the animal creation. The consideration, however, of this\nsubject, naturally enough gives rise to the question as to the soul of\nanimals. Now, it certainly would do no discredit to philosophy, if it\nshould succeed in giving a satisfactory answer to this question, and\nenable us to follow a middle course; as remote from the exaggerated\nassumptions of ancient nations with regard to animal existence, on the\none hand, as on the other, from the unfeeling conclusions of modern\nscience, which refuses to regard or to sympathize with any pains, and\nabsolutely is unable to conceive the sufferings of any being which does\nnot possess the character of rationality exactly in the same manner and\ndegree as man. As greatly, on the other side, does the Hindoo theology\nerr. Its dogma of the metempsychosis not only ascribes an immortal soul\nto animals, but it also further teaches that human souls are imprisoned\nin animal bodies, as the penalty of a guilt incurred in a previous state\nof existence. Beautiful, however, as is the compassionate sympathy with\nthe sufferings of the brute creation, which this theory has occasioned,\nand confirmed by the sanction of a religious duty, still the assumption\non which it is founded is wholly arbitrary, and the extension of the\nimmortality of the soul to these creatures of our globe is an\nunwarrantable exaggeration, and has no foundation in observed phenomena.\nMoreover, the hypothesis of such a migratory state of departed souls is\ninconsistent with every notion of the divine government of the world;\ninasmuch as such a temporary punishment can produce no salutary effect,\neither of purification or of preparation, and consequently would be\nwholly motiveless and absurd.\n\nVery questionable, moreover, does it seem, whether, with propriety, an\nindividual soul can be attributed to animals. With those that are most\nclosely domesticated with man, there does undoubtedly arise, as it were,\nby a sort of mental contagion, the appearance of individuality and\ndifference of character, just as the artistic structures of certain\nspecies form a kind of analogy to human reason, and as the melodious\nintonations and feelings of some others seemed to me entitled, in a\nsimilar sense, to be termed reverberations of fancy. In all those kinds,\nhowever, which remain undisturbed in their natural state, the whole\nspecies possesses the same character, and have, consequently, the same\ncommon soul.[30] The species itself is only an individual; and,\nconsequently, the several species must be considered as so many living\nforms of the general organic force of animated nature, since an\nimmortality of individual souls can, in the case of animals, neither be\nassumed nor allowed to be assumable.\n\nAmong those perplexities, or, as I termed them, questioning feelings\nabout nature and its animating principle, I turn now to the\nconsideration of the last instance, that of the maggots of putrefaction.\nIs not this one of the clearest possible proofs that all nature is\nanimated?[31] So much so, and so eminently is this the case, that even\nin death and corruption, in foulness and disease, it still livingly\noperates and produces life--the lowest grade, undoubtedly, of life--or,\nif any so prefers to call it, a false life--but still a life. Now, can\nsuch morbid productions of nature, the worms, _e.g._ [_entozoa_], which\nin certain diseases are engendered in the bowels, be regarded as real\ncreatures? Naught are they but the dissolving and crumbling matter of\nlife, which even in dissolution is still living.[32] And this fact is\nnot confined merely to organic corruption and disease. Even the\nelement--the fresh water from the spring--is full of life, and it is the\nmore so the clearer and the better it is and the purer from the\nmicroscopic animalcul\u00e6, which swarm in it more and more the longer it\nstagnates and becomes foul, until at last, as frequently happens when it\nhas been kept long on shipboard, with the growing foulness of the water\nthey increase in size, and swim about as worms of visible magnitude.\nMany other instances might be adduced in proof of this origination of\nworms and vermin out of corruption, and testifying to it as a general\nprinciple of nature. And are not those swarms of locusts which in\nAsiatic countries are a general plague of the lands over which they\nsweep with their thick and dark migratory hordes, a sickly proof that\nthe atmosphere that has engendered them is passing, or has already\nfallen into corruption beneath the influence of some other contagious\nelement?\n\nThat the air and atmosphere of our globe is in the highest degree full\nof life, I may, I think, take here for granted and generally admitted.\nIt is, however, of a mixed kind and quality, combining the refreshing\nand balsamic breath of spring with the parching simoons of the desert,\nand where the healthy odors fluctuate in chaotic struggle with the most\ndeadly vapors. What else, in general, is the wide-spread and spreading\npestilence, but a living propagation of foulness, corruption, and death?\nAre not many poisons, especially animal poisons, in a true sense, living\nforces?\n\nNow, may we not give a further extension to this mode of view, and\napply the fact of a diseased propagation of a false life, as in the\nworms of putrefaction, to other unsightly productions of nature. May we\nnot, for instance, consider serpents and snakes as the entozoa or\nintestinal worms of the earth? That the evil spirits are not without\nsome influence on our terrestrial habitation, and that in many places\ntheir malignant influence is distinctly traceable is, at all events,\nundeniable. And accordingly, some have supposed the monkey tribe not to\nbe an original creation of the Deity, but a satanic device and malicious\nparody upon man, as the envied favorite of God. That the \u201cPrince of this\nworld\u201d--which expression, in its latter half, is surely not to be\nunderstood exclusively of man\u2019s fallen race, but very evidently and\nexpressively alludes to the existing fabric of nature and the corrupted\nworld of sense--that the Prince of this world can exercise a certain\ndegree of pernicious influence on the productive energies of the natural\nsystem in its present corrupt and vitiated condition, and that also,\nthere is in nature itself a power to produce evil, are facts which do\nnot admit of denial, and are noways inconsistent with revelation. Only\nwe must not suppose that this baneful influence is not confined within\ncertain limits. He to whom the Prince of this world, no less than the\nworld itself, is subject, has, in His infinite wisdom, set a definite\nlimit both of quantity and duration to this pernicious influence, as, in\ngeneral, He does to every permission of evil.\n\nAt all events we must not for one moment suppose that in the book of\nnature we have a pure and uncorrupt text of God, and such as it\noriginally came from the hands of its Author. It is of the highest\nconsequence, for a due and right appreciation of the divine economy in\nnature, that we give full consideration to this fact. On this account it\nis important to keep in mind the distinction implied in that expression\nalready quoted from the Mosaic history--\u201cLet the earth bring forth.\u201d\nFor, according to this, it does not seem indispensably necessary to\nascribe immediately to the good and wise Creator every thing that the\nearth brought forth; no, nor every thing that is produced by a nature\nnow so imperfect--so diseased, too, in many parts--and visibly\nconstrained to submit to hostile and foreign influences.\n\nMany writers who, with the best intentions, undertake the task of\nindicating the divine wisdom in the existing order of things, and of\ndefending the ways of Providence against the objections of human\npresumption and conceit, generally err by taking too narrow a view of\ntheir subject, and rigorously insisting on some one general principle,\nwhich, by means of very hazardous assertions, they succeed in finding in\nthe whole and every part of the system of the universe. They leave out\nof sight altogether that Mosaic distinction already alluded to, which in\nappearance indeed is trifling enough, but yet in reality most\nessentially important. Consequently, the good work which they take in\nhand, instead of producing that general concurrence and conviction that\nit otherwise might, gives rise rather to fresh doubts and objections.\nThe best solution of all such doubts--the most satisfactory answer to\nall such or similar questions or questioning feelings--lies in the final\ncause of the present constitution of things, considered as a whole and\nin general, and judged of from a regard to its triple character and\ntriple destination. Now, according to this triple principle, we have, as\nalready shown, to regard the present system of nature as being primarily\na tombstone raised by Almighty benevolence--a bridge of safety thrown\nacross the gulf of eternal death--a bridge, however, which we must not\nthink of as quite so simple, broad, and straight as a bridge made by\nhuman hands, but an animated and ensouled bridge of life, and multiform,\nwith many arms and branches, and presenting in some parts nothing more\nthan a narrow footing, where the first false stop precipitates into the\nabyss beneath. But secondarily, according to this view, nature is\ngrounded on and devoted to progress; a wonderful laboratory of manifold,\ndiversified, and universal reproduction; and lastly, a glorious scale of\nresurrection, ascending up to the last and highest summit of terrestrial\ntransfiguration. Now this laboratory lies in the hidden womb of nature,\nwhile in the noble outward structure of its organic formations this\ngradational scale manifests itself with a warning, a prognostication of\nthe height of excellence to which it eventually leads. But now, if\nnature--as, judging from its original design, we may and must\nassume--were a Paradise for the blessed spirits of the previous\ncreation, for the first-born sons of light, then most assuredly has it\nnot continued so, any more than the first man has remained in the garden\nof Eden. No doubt, over a few favored spots of the existing globe, a\nrich fullness of ravishing beauty still hovers, awakening in the heart,\nas it were, the fleeting images of Paradisaical innocence--dying strains\nof a primal harmony--mournful reminiscences of the happy infancy of\ncreation. For the powers of darkness and hostile spirits broke in upon\nthe fair beauty of primeval nature, and laid it waste and wild. The\ngarden of the earth in which the first man was placed, \u201cto dress it and\nto keep it,\u201d is, no doubt, called Paradise; and assuredly it was\ninfinitely more beautiful, more wonderful, purer, and fuller of life,\nthan the loveliest scenery which meets the eye in the fairest spots of\nthe earth, and seems to be of an almost celestial beauty. But this is\nsaid only of the immediate inclosure, the immediate habitation of our\nfirst parent; the spot chosen and blessed by God--the garden watered and\nsurrounded by the four streams. All the rest of nature, the whole of the\nworld besides, must have ceased at that time to be a Paradise; for,\notherwise, whence could the serpent have come? So that even according to\nthe simple sense of the expression, \u201cthat old serpent,\u201d he was already\nthere, in the midst of the natural world. And was it not probably a part\nof the destination of man--at least, in its natural aspect--that,\nsetting out from this divine starting-point of a Paradise prepared for\nand given to him, he was to go forth and convert the rest of the world\ninto a similar Eden?\n\nBut this destination he did not, however, fulfill, and consequently lost\neven this beginning and model of the first Paradise. The names of the\nfour streams which watered it are indeed still preserved in those\nregions of Asia, which even to this day are the richest and most\nfruitful, and, according to history, were the earliest inhabited. But\nthe one source out of which they all took their rise has disappeared,\nand no vestige of it remains. With the loss of Paradise all is changed,\nnot only in man himself, but in the earth as his place of abode.\n\nThe way of return out of this bewildered nature, or, if men prefer so to\nspeak, out of this sunk and degraded, not to say unsound and sickly,\nstate of the earthly and sensible world (and this way of return is even\nthe way of obedience to the course of the divine order in nature), is\nindicated even by these three grades of its inmost character, its\ntendency, and ultimate destination. And in these, and in the final cause\nof the whole constitution of things, is contained its true key and\ninterpretation, as well as the answer to so many questions about nature,\nwhich engage not merely the curious intellect of man, but also attract\nthe sympathies of his soul, sweeping across it either with dark doubts\nand fears, or with bright intimations of life and glorious anticipation.\n\nI spoke deliberately when I said to _many_ of these questioning feelings\nand perplexities of the human mind, and not all of them. For to expect a\nsatisfactory answer to them all in the present state of science, or\ngenerally in this terrestrial life, brief as it is, and limited on all\nsides and short-sighted, would be agreeable neither with the course nor\nwhole constitution of human affairs. A thoroughly complete and perfectly\nsystematic demonstration of the wisdom in the divine order of nature,\nwhich should meet and explain every difficulty, would, even on account\nof such a pretension, command little respect, and be of slight\ninfluence. Much is there in nature which is to remain long hidden from\nman; much, too, which we shall see first of all in the other world, when\ndeath shall have opened our eyes and made us clear-sighted in one\ndirection or another. But the beginning and the end are even here and\nnow placed clearly and intelligibly before us, if only we are ready and\nwilling to walk by the light that is so graciously given us, and here,\nas elsewhere, invariably to refer the first cause and the final\nconsummation to the Creator and to God. Without such a reference,\nwithout thus, as it were, placing its two poles in God, the right\nunderstanding of nature is absolutely impossible, and every scientific\nattempt to attain it apart from and independently of God, must simply as\nsuch prove vain and involve itself in absurdities. Hence it is, however\nparadoxical it may sound, that we can recognize more distinctly, and\nbetter understand the end of nature, its meaning and significance as a\nwhole, than we can the final cause of many a single object in it, which,\nhowever, as contrasted with the whole, appears inconsiderable and\ntrifling. For the clear perception that we have of the final cause of\nnature comes immediately from the divine illumination, which therefore\nwe can, so far as it is given to us, see and understand. But in the\ndarker levels, in the subterranean shaft of the obscure sensible world,\nthe prophetic candle of an antlike burrowing science, even though it be\noriginally kindled at that higher light, can not reach to every quarter,\ncan not illuminate every object in this mine of darkness.\n\nBut this final cause of creation, such as it is given to us clearly and\nintelligibly, will be rendered most clear by a comparison and contrast\nwith the conceptions of the end of nature which human reason has put\nforth. If the proposition already quoted from one of the latest of\nGerman philosophers, that the essence of mind consists in the negation\nof the opposite, be now applied (which was the application I then had in\nmy mind) to the Creator of the world and uncreated Intelligence, then\nthe following must be the meaning involved in it. That which is the\nopposite of God or the Creator is nothing; and so far the proposition is\nquite true, since man can not but admit that the Almighty has created\nthe world out of nothing. For if, with some of the ancient philosophers,\nwe were to suppose a matter existing from all eternity, out of which God\ndid not so much create as form the world, then in this case we should\nhave two Gods, and both imperfect and finite, instead of the one\nall-perfect and self-sufficient Being. But if, on the other hand, the\nDeity be regarded as merely a not-nothing; if the final cause of\ncreation be simply the negation of naught, then would such a view\nascribe a sort of imaginary reality to the nothing, and it would seem\nthat the world was created solely in order to get rid of the nothing,\nwhich comes pretty much to the same as saying--if we may allow ourselves\nso Lessing-like a boldness of expression--the Infinite made the world\nout of _ennui_. Thus, in every case do the skeptical views and empty\nnegations of idealism lead to a contradictory nothing.\n\nBut, in reality and truth, it was out of love that God made the worlds;\nand, indeed, out of a superabundant love. This we may well venture to\nassert, and even to call it a fact; and that the divine love is also the\nfinal cause, as well as the beginning of creation. A superabundance of\nlove in God we must, however, call the final cause-ground of creation,\ninasmuch as He stood in no need of it; no need of the love of the\ncreature, nor absolutely of the world itself, or created things. For in\nHis inmost essence, where one depth of eternal love responds fully and\neternally to the other, He was perfectly sufficient for himself. And yet\nit is even so: there is in God the superabundance of love, for He has\ncreated the worlds, and it is the divine will to be loved by His\ncreatures. For this end and purpose has He created them; and because He\nwould have their love, He has created them free, and given both to the\npure spirits and to men a free will. The whole secret in the relation\nsubsisting between the creature, and man especially, and the Creator,\nlies even in this great fact, that He has created them out of love, and\nrequires in return the service of their love. There is, perhaps,\nsomething awful in this requisition, and in the relation thus found to\nsubsist between a weak and imperfect creature and the infinite and\nomnipotent Being. But it is even so: we are really free, and are really\nrequired by God to give him our love. But now a finite and created being\ncan only be free so far as God leaves him free; and this is only\nconceivable in the light I have already set it in by the simile of a\nfond mother teaching her babe to walk, and in order to tempt it to make\nthe first essay with its little limbs, stepping back from it a few\nsteps, and leaving it a moment to itself. No creature could be free did\nnot God, in a similar way, leave it to itself, and, after the first\nimpulse of creation, withhold from it His controlling energy. But if He\ndid not do so--were He, on the contrary, to act upon His creatures\nwithout reserve, and with the whole infinite extent of his might--then\nthe liberty of the latter, overwhelmed in His omnipotence, must be\ndestroyed, as being only possible through the spontaneous limitation of\nthe divine power, which results from the superabundance of creative\nlove.\n\nNow we can, it is true, distinguish in the essence or energy of God,\nbetween His intelligence and His will--His omniscience and His\nomnipotence; but they can not be absolutely separated from and opposed\nto each other, for in Him and in His operations, they, as indeed all\nelse in Him, are one. It would, therefore, be nothing but a foolish and\nunmeaning subtlety to demand, \u201cWhy, then, has the Omniscient created\nrational beings, of whom He must assuredly have known beforehand that\nthey would fall and perish?\u201d For it is but a logical illusion, when we\ntransfer from the human to the divine mind a form of thought fluctuating\nbetween the conceivably possible and the apparently necessary. Man\u2019s\nfreedom undoubtedly consists in the choice between one possibility and\nanother, or in that indefinite possibility which subsists half way\nbetween one necessity and another. But God\u2019s freedom is not as man\u2019s: in\nHim there is neither contingent possibility nor unconditional necessity.\nAll in Him is truly actual, living, and positive. His freedom lies even\nin the superabundance of His essence--the fact, viz., that He is not\nbound by any law of necessity to remain contented with this His own\ninternal fullness. For otherwise He were a Fate rather than a free God,\nand to that conclusion the doctrine of the Stoics consistently enough\narrived at last. Extremely difficult must it ever be, in such a system\nand with such a conception of an intrinsically necessary God, and one\nbound by this necessity, consistently to account for the creation of the\nworld, which, in appearance, is so irreconcilable with the idea of the\nself-sufficiency of the divine Being. On this account some of the\nsimilarly rationalizing systems of ancient times had recourse to the\ningenious device of ascribing the work of creation to a spiritual being\nof an inferior order, and degrading this secondary deity far below the\ninfinite perfections of the supreme and all-sufficient God. But by this\nexpedient men did but fall, as is, alas! but too commonly the case, from\none error into another still greater and even more monstrous. It is, in\nshort, nothing but a mere logical delusion and an illegitimate\ntransference from our limited faculty of thought to the divine\nintelligence, which gives rise to these pernicious doctrines of an\nabsolute and unconditional predestination, which fundamentally amount\nand bring us back to a blind and heathenish fatalism.\n\nThus much, as connected with our subject, will be sufficient on the\ndifficult subject both of the freedom of the pure created spirits and\nalso of man\u2019s will, as regarded solely from its philosophical aspect,\nand without any reference to the moral theory, and solely in relation to\nthe system of the universe. Difficult, however, is this subject, merely\non one account. The logical illusion, from which springs all error,\nstrife, and confusion, and which we are too apt to transfer to the\ndivine mind, is so far innate in the very form of man\u2019s finite\nintellect, than even when we have recognized it for what it really is;\nyet, so long as we confine ourselves to mere logical reasoning, and are\nseduced by its seeming rigor of consequence, we are ever ready to fall\nanew into this dangerous error without even remarking it.\n\nIn the same way, now, that the existence of free beings follows\nnaturally from the love of God, as the final cause of creation, so, on\nthe other hand, the permission of moral evil is a mere result of that\nfreedom in and through which these created beings have to run their\nappointed time. For this freedom, as considered with a reference to God\nand futurity, or to the immortality of the soul, is nothing else than\nthe time of trial and the state of probation itself. But, perhaps it\nwill be asked, \u201cWhy, then, does not God, by one nod of retributive\njustice, by one breath of His omnipotence, annihilate forever, as He so\neasily might, the whole company of evil and rebellious spirits, together\nwith their leader, the Prince of this world, and so purify the whole\nvisible creation, and release external nature from their desolating\ninfluence?\u201d To this the answer is simple and at hand. Man is placed in\nthis world on his trial and for a struggle with evil, and this warfare\nis not yet ended. But by such an annihilation of evil, the living\ndevelopment of nature would be precipitated in that course which God\noriginally designed it to advance through, and cut short before the\nappointed time of final purification, when, according to His promise, He\nwill, as Holy Writ expresses it, create new heavens and a new earth, and\nmake perfect the whole creation.[33]\n\nMan is free, but utterly unripe as yet; and thoroughly incomplete also\nis nature, or the sensible world, and material creation; consequently,\nthe immortality of the soul is the corner-stone and key for\nunderstanding the whole. For the mere beginning of creation is perfectly\nunintelligible so long as we do not take into consideration the other\nextreme or end--its final completion and ultimate consummation. Just as\nthe half of human life on this side the grave can not be understood\nunless we contemplate, at the same time with it, its second half on the\nother side of the tomb, as its complement, and as a necessary element\ntoward the elucidation of the whole.\n\nAs, then, the permission of evil finds a satisfactory explanation in\nman\u2019s probationary state, and in God\u2019s love, as the final cause of the\ncreation, so also the physical evils and sufferings to which the free\nbeing is liable are fully accounted for on that principle. This is the\nkey of the enigma of their existence. None of the sufferings of the free\nbeing, on either side of the grave, are unprofitable and without a\nmotive. They all serve, either in this preparatory state of earthly\nexistence, for probation, for discipline, or for confirmation, or else,\nafter it, for the perfect healing of the soul, and its purification from\nall the remaining dross and taints of earth.[34] Scarcely ever can the\ndiseased matter be got rid of and expelled from the organic body with\nout a struggle, and very seldom without pain. Gold is purified by the\nfire, and pain is the fiery purification of the body. This belief is one\nwhich ought least of all to have been called into question, inasmuch as\nit is only consonant to the simple feelings of human nature. For\notherwise, how narrowly must the hopes of the future be confined, if\nnothing that is unclean shall enter into heaven--the Holy of Holies--the\nimmediate presence of the pure and holy God!\n\nIt is not, however, my intention to make this consolatory and blessed\nhope of a loving and longing heart the topic of dispute, especially\nsince it lies altogether beyond my present limits. I will only allude to\nthe words of the Savior, \u201cIn my Father\u2019s house are many mansions.\u201d By\nthe \u201cFather\u2019s house\u201d we must, it is clear, understand the future world.\nOn other side, therefore, of the grave, as well as on this, many\ndivisions, many degrees, and many different states, and also manifold\ntransitions, are not merely conceivable and possible, but must of\nnecessity be assumed as actually existent, even though we can not be too\ncautious in avoiding all hasty decisions as to what is going on in this\nhidden world. Only we must ever remember that any absolute line of\ndemarcation which on one side has nothing but white, while all that lies\non the other is black, is very rarely the line of truth. And this\nprinciple holds good, it is plain, in every relation and every possible\napplication. For such a trenchant line of sharp and unmitigated contrast\nbetween black and white is even one of those intellectual deceptions\nconnatural to man, which disposes him too hastily to transfer to all\nwithout him the limited form of his own finite intellect. All the pains,\ntherefore, and all the sufferings of the creature, whether on this or\nthe other side of the grave, serve either to exercise and strengthen, or\nto heal and purify, the yet imperfect being, with the single exception\nof that bitterest of all agonies--the pain of being left eternally to\nourselves. But even here, although there is no hope of a salutary\neffect, a species of converse propriety seems to hold.\n\nIt is, we remarked, the problem of philosophy, leaving to physics the\nwhole development of life that lies intermediate between the beginning\nand end, to explain the two extremes of nature. As, therefore, we have\nexamined one of these extremes, and have discovered in the whole\nterrestrial creation a Paradise as the blessed state of the still\ninnocent infancy of nature, before the revolt of the rebellious spirits\nand the fall of the first man, the present seems the place for a few\nwords touching the opposite extreme--the regions of outer darkness. We\ncan safely admit that the figurative representations, not merely of\npainters and poets, but occasionally also of the preacher, are so\nhorrible, and heaped together with so little consistency--the dark\ncolors laid on so thick, that the whole assumes to the feelings an\nappearance of improbability, and, on this account, makes, for the most\npart, no very deep impression. But the spiritual significance of these\nsufferings, and the sort of propriety and design which holds, even in\nthis unnatural state, on the utmost borders of creation, may, perhaps,\nbe made clear by a very simple illustration. Most reluctantly, and with\na heavy heart assuredly, would an earthly parent resolve to turn out of\nhis house, and formally to disinherit, his first-born and beloved son,\neven though he should have proved himself utterly worthless and\nhopelessly depraved. But even if an earthly parent might be too hasty in\nhis anger, and actually be harsh and unjust, still we may boldly assume\nthat the love of our Heavenly Father, in patience and gentleness, far\ntranscends the truest parental love that is to be found on earth. But\nwhen it actually comes to this point of offended mercy and justice, then\nthe disinherited, cast out into the regions of darkness, joins the band\nof robbers who in the night lurk about his father\u2019s house, seeking where\nthey may break into it. No other choice is left him than to become a\nrobber, and, whether he will or no, he must obey the leader of the band.\nBut better taught and as yet softer of heart than the rest, he must go\nthrough many hardships and sufferings ere he becomes quite like the\nothers--as hard-hearted as the \u201cmurderers from the beginning,\u201d who the\nwhile look down upon him with scorn and contempt.\n\nWhat I would say is this: many degrees, and undoubtedly extreme degrees,\nof pain and torment, are necessary before the man cast out from the\npresence of God can be wholly and completely transformed into an evil\nspirit. And this is, perhaps, the proper meaning and essential character\nunder which we are to think of these endless torments of spiritual\ndeath and ruin. If, moreover, this eternal death is often described as\nan unquenchable fire, then unquestionably there lies in this figure,\neven physically considered, a certain truth, inasmuch as even in this\nworld and in visible nature, fire, when left to itself and to its true\nessential character, is the proper element of destruction. In the sun\u2019s\ngenial influence, indeed, and in the blood of the living soul, it is\nconstrained and moderated into the wholesome warmth of life; but in\nitself, and working in its elementary state, it is destructive and\nopposed to all the other elements. To the light all that has life turns\ninstinctively, and in the air it breathes and pulsates, and from water\nit draws a part at least of its nourishment. It is only incidentally\nthat the air and water become destructive, but the fire is so in its\nproper nature. A perfectly organized animal that lived in fire would, in\na greater or less degree, fill every mind with horror and alarm, as\nhaving no part in and wholly alien from that nature which is known to\nand friendly to man. On this account, many even of the ancient\nphilosophers taught that the end of the present visible and the external\nand sensible world, would be brought about by a general conflagration.\n\nThe permission of evil is an immediate consequence of the creation of\nfree beings. But although it may be regarded as a fact, that God has\ncreated free both the spirits and man, still we must be on our guard how\nwe introduce into this matter any notion of necessity, and suppose that\nGod must have made them free, and could not have created any other. For\nman is only too prone to transfer his own imaginary conceit of necessity\nto the Deity himself, and to feign to see it in Him. This, however, were\na most grievous error; and yet it is one into which men almost\ninevitably fall when they adopt either a rigorously systematic or purely\nlogical view of the matter. Could not God in his omnipotence have\ncreated powers and dominions which, even though they were living\nenergies and ensouled principalities, should, nevertheless, be without\nthe property of self-determination and a true liberty, and which would\nconsequently require some other nature, but similar to themselves, to\nrule and direct them? In this sense we read of the spirits of nature,\nensouled elementary powers and living forces, which are described as\nbeing seized and taken possession of by the power of evil, but as\nhereafter to be set free by the efficacy of redeeming love, and again\nsubjected to and united to God. Now, as connected with this subject, it\nis deserving of consideration, that in all the declarations and\nallusions of the Eternal Truth this present earthly nature is spoken of\nas the battle-place of invisible powers, the debatable ground on which\nthe two armies of good and evil spirits and elements are posted in\nhostile array against each other, and perpetually coming into\ncollision.[35]\n\nCould not God, had such been His pleasure, have created other beings,\nand by the fiat of His all-mighty will have raised them at once above\nall the dangers of liberty, and enduing them with perfect holiness, and\nexempt from all liability to fall, have drawn them to Himself in eternal\nlove?\n\nI have hitherto, wherever it has been my object to give a clearer and\nsharper characterization of the human consciousness by means of a\ncomparison with the faculties of intellect and will possessed by\nsuperior but created spirits, confined myself to the idea of the pure\nspirits, genii or angels. But if it should have been the divine pleasure\nto create other spiritual beings with an organic body--one, perhaps, not\nlike the human, but still of a very noble though animal form, endued of\ncourse with an immortal soul and with a knowledge of God--who is there\nin such a case to set limits to the omnipotent will? Now if, as already\nsupposed, they were created in perfect holiness, and exempt from the\nliability to fall, it is easily conceivable how in this respect they\nwould be higher than frail and imperfect man, and must be regarded as a\npart of the spiritual world, rather than as belonging to the human race\nor to the existing system of nature.\n\nAll these are not so much inappropriate and impertinent conjectures and\nidle fancies, as calmly mooted questions for explanation, which arise\nout of and are suggested by certain traditions and points of revelation.\n\nLastly, if the Almighty had resolved to create a perfect being, so far\nabove and before all the other creatures of His will, as to stand next\nto Himself, and be, as it were, the mirror and reflection of His own\ninfinite perfections--and many a word in Holy Writ seems to allude to\nsomething of the kind--then it is not difficult to see how the\nalready-quoted expression of a soul of God would receive a better sense.\nThis being, so superior to all other created spirits, must in any case\nbe regarded as a soul, and for the most part of a passive essence, for\notherwise it would stand too close and near to Deity itself. And it is\nmanifest, that even here the ever-immeasurable interval which separates\nthe Creator from the most perfect of creatures must be most carefully\nkept in view. And at all events this expression must in no case be\napplied to the second or third persons of the Godhead, nor be confounded\ntherewith, otherwise this designation would not only be false, but\naltogether an abomination.\n\nRevelation contains an inexhaustible mine of verities, and I have only\nwished, by the way, to call attention to these as yet unexplored\ntreasures. But it is above all important, for the philosophical point of\nview, steadily to insist upon and enforce the truth, that in no respect\ncan we form a notion adequately grand and lofty, or rich and manifold\nenough, of the Creation. The compactly-closed and orderly-arranged\nsystem is almost always the death of truth. So also is that line--which,\nhowever, seems to be a connatural fault in the very form of man\u2019s\nfaculty of judgment--that straight line between black and white, for\neven if it be not radically wrong, it yet leaves much on both sides\nunconsidered and ill understood.\n\nWith this impression, I shall allow myself to notice an opinion but\nlittle known, which, moreover, if I had not met with it in writers who,\nin this province of inquiry, are of the highest authority, I should\nscarcely have ventured to adduce. In this department of spiritual\nknowledge, a man would much rather confine himself to the simple primary\ntruth than call attention to mere opinions. The opinion I allude to is\nto be found in St. Jerome, _i.e._, in that very Father who, for\ntheological judgment, is acknowledged by all to be the first and the\ngreatest. It was held also by St. Francis de Sales, that holy saint of\nspiritual love, and who, even on that account, is so superior to the\nmany hundreds of the schoolmen before him, as also to so many\nideologists after him. Lastly, it occurred to Leibnitz, who, of all\nphilosophers, was most possessed of a true and fine intellectual tact to\nperceive and discover all the most secret, delicate traits of a great\nsystem, even though most remote in character from his own. But still,\nwith this array of great authorities, it remains nothing more than a\nwholly problematical opinion, on which, as an article of positive faith,\nnothing is or ever can be decided. Now this opinion is, that in the\nrevolt of the rebellious spirits, while those who remained in their\nstate of innocence and in their allegiance rallied only the closer round\ntheir Creator, a considerable number, fearful and undecided, vacillated\nbetween good and evil, and, as we might justly say, with the weakness of\nthe human character, remained neutral in the conflict, and thereby lost\ntheir original place in the hierarchy of the heavenly host, without,\nhowever, being counted among the utterly lost. As a fourth authority for\nthis opinion, I might adduce Dante. He is indeed a poet, but still a\ntheological poet, and deeply versed in theology, who would never have\narbitrarily devised or invented, or even adopted such a notion, had he\nnot found it existing among others before him, and had he not been able\nto adduce a good and valid authority for it. As a good Ghibelline, he\nwas, moreover, no friend of neutral spirits, either in this world or the\nother; and he passes the most severe sentence upon those beings whom, as\nhe says, heaven has cast out, and hell would not receive.[36]\n\nBut what--if we may propound the question with something more of\nphilosophical indifference than the poet--what, according to the analogy\nof the divine economy and merciful justice, as elsewhere displayed, are\nwe to suppose the doom of these undecided and wavering spirits? In the\nfirst place, we may well suppose that they would be submitted to a new\nprobation: just as a general gives another opportunity to the troops,\nwho in some evil moment have shown a want of spirit, to retrieve their\nhonor. Now, if it be allowable to assume that this, or some similar\nidea, or some tradition of the kind, had an influence on and gave rise\nto the doctrine of the pre-existence of men, which is so generally\ndiffused among the Hindoos, and which was also held by the Platonists,\nand even Christian Platonists, of the first centuries, we can then\nconceive how this otherwise so arbitrary assumption and groundless\nhypothesis could have arisen. Groundless, however, it may well be named,\nnot only because no cause or explanation of it is adduced, but as being\nagreeable neither to the nature of the soul nor to the constitution of\nthings; so that, regarded even in this light, it must be looked upon as\na singular instance, and consequently as an exception from the laws of\nnature and as a miraculous intervention of divine power. But a mere\npre-existence of spirits would, however, be no true pre-existence in the\nsense of the Hindoo theology, or of the Platonists, since, by its union\nwith and by the accession of a soul, it becomes a wholly different and\nquite a new being. Moreover, in this hypothesis, as it is further worked\nout in the Hindoo and Platonic systems, the whole character and true\ndestination of human life is entirely misunderstood, inasmuch as it is\nrepresented as a place and period of punishment; whereas, rightly\nconceived, and even philosophically contemplated, it appears rather as a\nbattle-place, and the time of discipline and preparation for eternity.\n\nIt is the problem and vocation of philosophy not merely to set forth the\ntruth clearly and simply, but also, whenever it can be done incidentally\nand easily, to account for and explain great and remarkable errors,\nespecially such as were prevalent among the earliest nations and ages.\nNow, among those errors which are most remarkable in ancient history,\nthis of the Hindoos and Platonists holds in my eyes a very prominent\nplace. But philosophically to explain an error, means not to reject it\nat once as absurd and undeserving of notice, but requires rather that we\nshould first of all really understand it, _i.e._, that we should study\nit, and, to a certain degree, enter into its spirit, and seek to\ndiscover its best significance, or, in other words, that interpretation\nwhich is nearest to the truth, and then in conclusion accurately to\ndetermine the point where error begins and truth is violated.\n\nAll this, however, may now be left to its own merits. In touching upon\nit, my only object has been to call attention to the wonderful variety\nof God\u2019s creative power, even in the copious theme of the immortality of\nthe soul. And in this view it appeared to me not unprofitable to notice\neven the most discrepant theories on the subject, as being nevertheless\nwell calculated to throw a clear and steady light on the simple truth.\nIn the last age, since the Hindoo metempsychosis, as it is now\naccurately and authentically known, appeared too serious and sad a\ndoctrine to meet with the welcome and concurrence of the existent\ngeneration, a brighter and more fanciful theory was propounded. In it\nthis life has been astronomically depicted in the brightest and most\nattractive colors as a walk among the stars, continually ascending from\none sidereal existence to another. In the limited range of human\nknowledge, it is alike impossible to deny or to prove the possibility of\nsuch a migration among the stars. But it is evidently a wiser course,\nand one far more agreeable to the nature and limits of man\u2019s powers of\nunderstanding, for him to confine his views to his own immediate\nhome--the earth--investigating, sifting, and divining its mysteries,\nthan to lose himself in airy dreams amid the whole starry universe. For,\nperhaps, that which man is seeking so far off he may find much closer to\nhis own doors than he suspects. For it is not improbable that this\nplanet of our earth contains in its interior many subterranean courses\nand secret chambers of death, together with the seeds of light which are\nto spring up into the future resurrection.\n\nBut this may be reserved for consideration in another place. Here I will\nonly add, in conclusion, that opposite to that gradational scale,\nalready so often mentioned, which the vast pyramid of nature forms in\nrelation to God and its own living development, stands another scale for\nman, adapted to his needs and suited to his narrow position and limited\nintelligence. In this scale, nature, _i.e._, in this sense, the nature\nwhich most immediately surrounds and environs man, this planet of our\nearth which bears and nourishes the human race, is first of all man\u2019s\nhabitation, teeming, indeed, with life, and even itself a living thing,\nin which, however, he is ever meeting here and there with something that\ntells him it is not his proper home. In the second step of this view of\nnature, which contemplates it principally in its relation to man and\nman\u2019s wants, the natural world in its present form appears as the\nbattle-place and debatable ground of the still undecided, or, rather,\nnot as yet terminated, struggle between the good and evil powers, and\nthe fiercer the strife again begins to be, the more necessary is it not\nto overlook this aspect of the matter. The third gradation in this view\nof nature, considered relatively to the mind or spirit of man in his\nfinite existence, is that which teaches him to look upon it as the\nvisible veil of the invisible world, covered all over and richly\nornamented with significant symbols and hieroglyphics. And even because\nnature itself is even a symbolical being, therefore, when we speak of\nits inmost life and its spirit, or its meaning as a whole, _i.e._, when\nwe attempt to study and to understand it, not physically only, but even\nphilosophically, we can only hope to convey our meaning symbolically, by\nemploying scientific illustrations and living symbols.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VII.\n\nOF THE DIVINE WISDOM AS MANIFESTED IN THE REALM OF TRUTH, AND OF THE\nCONFLICT OF THE AGE WITH ERROR.\n\n\nGod is a spirit of truth; and in the realm of truth, therefore, the\ndivine order, and the law of wisdom which reigns therein, shines forth\nwith an especial clearness--with a higher degree of evidence or greater\nperspicuity than even in the region of nature, which for us is for the\nmost part half-dark, or at the very best but a _chiaro-oscuro_--a\nmixture of light and darkness. But man, formed out of the dust of the\nearth, placed, as it were, in the very center of nature, as its\nfirst-born son or its earthly lord, is in this respect himself a natural\nbeing. Even in his susceptibility for higher and divine truth, man is\ntied to and is dependent on a similar and collateral grade of\ndevelopment in the life of nature, which can in no case be violently\nbroken, nor a step in it arbitrarily overleaped, without involving the\nmost disastrous consequences as the penalty of so unnatural a course.\nEven in education there reigns a similar law of gradual development\naccording to the natural progression of the different ages of life. With\nthe boy of good and natural abilities, who shows an aptness and\nwillingness to learn when knowledge is presented to his mind, and\nimplanted in a true and living form, the teacher\u2019s first care is to\nimprove this disposition, and to strengthen and to foster it, and, by\nfurnishing it with the due measure and the right quality of intellectual\nculture, gradually to develop its powers. At this age the moral part of\neducation will wisely confine itself to laying a foundation of good\nhabits, to the careful exclusion of all evil communication and the\ndeadly contagion of wicked example. In the soft and yielding character\nof the child there can scarcely be as yet any question about principles\nor sentiments. But the case is very different with youth. If at this\ntime of life the moral character be not carefully formed simultaneously\nwith its scientific cultivation, then is the good season irreparably\nlost, and rarely, if ever, can the deficiency be afterward supplied. For\nwhen this stage of intellectual and moral culture is once passed, when\nthe mind has begun at last to move with greater freedom and to mature\nitself, the young man is at once admitted to the full light of science,\nor enters into the busy course of active life, to be there brought to\nthe touchstone of experience.\n\nAnd a similar series of gradation may be observed on a larger scale in\nthe historical succession and development of the ages of the world. For\nsuch is, in every case, the gradual expansion of man\u2019s consciousness, as\nhe is at present constituted. His senses must be first excited and\nexpanded; then, and then only, with any good result, can the soul be led\nto the good and divine, which, however, not content to dismiss them\nafter the first look of wonder and amazement, it must rather dwell upon\nwith the full and deep feelings of admiration and reverence; until at\nlast, being wholly filled with them, it derives from their inspiration a\nnew stimulus and excitement, and thereby is forever and permanently\ndirected to the true end and aim of existence. And now at last can the\nfree spirit apprehend aright the divine truth, and, in the spirit of\nthis knowledge, act with vital energy, conformably to that position in\nGod\u2019s great world which has been assigned and allotted to him.\n\nAnd this order can not be transgressed with impunity. None of its\nintermediate steps can be overleaped without involving the most fearful\nconsequences. If the senses be not first of all excited and expanded,\nthen will it be lost labor to attempt to win and fortify the heart, or\nto turn the soul toward the never-setting sun of divine truth. And,\naccordingly, how many attempts, both on a large and a small scale, at\nthe moral regeneration of mankind have totally failed even for want of\nthe first step of a forerunning light and previous illumination, by\nwhich the observation should have been roused, the senses stimulated,\nand the eye opened. But when, on the contrary, the full light is\nimparted to or gained by the mind, while the soul still remains\nenveloped in darkness and fast wedded to its evil habits, without\nattaining to a higher exaltation, then, indeed, the result is equally\ngrievous, though different from that which follows from the mistake of\noverleaping at the first step. It has an effect; it does not remain\nwithout an influence. So long as the moral part of man is wholly\nneglected, and is either left rude and barbarous, or suffered to become\ndegenerate, then science works indeed, but only as a destroying element.\nIn so bad a soil the true knowledge is ever transformed into false, and\nthe more profoundly it is apprehended--the more vividly and vigorously\nit is pursued--the more fatally, perniciously, and destructively does it\nwork. The examples and the proofs of the injurious consequences of too\nrapid and premature development of scientific enlightenment amid a\ngeneral prevalence of moral depravity, and the subversion of those\nprinciples which are the foundation of national existence and\nprosperity, might easily be found at no great distance from our own age.\nAnd they admit also of being demonstrated as clearly and convincingly by\nearlier instances from the history of the Greeks and Romans. The\nproduction of these proofs, however, would carry us beyond our present\nlimits, and the truth they would establish is not, moreover, the end to\nwhich our present disquisitions are directed. The theme of this Lecture\nis the course observed by eternal wisdom, or the divine order in the\nrealm of truth. My object is to call your attention to the care with\nwhich Providence observes a gradual progression in its mental\ndevelopment of the human race, lovingly suiting and adapting itself to\nthe weakness and finiteness of humanity, and to the imperfection of\nearthly creatures, according to that principle of divine condescension,\nso often mentioned already, which, throughout the divine operations in\nthe world, and His influence on man, is distinctly visible.\n\nThus, then, in the knowledge immediately imparted to man by a higher\nprovidence we may discern a preliminary period--a previous illumination,\nin order to reopen the eye of man, which heathenism had blinded to the\ntruth, that it might be able to see and discern God. This first step of\nrevelation was little more than a preparation for the future; but the\nsecond was, or has been, an illumination of the soul--a vital renewal of\nit--a total conversion of it from the state of darkness to the\nEverlasting Light and the Sun of Righteousness. But in this living\ndevelopment of the highest life, which is even the divine light of the\nSpirit, the third and last step (which indeed commences in and is\ninvolved in the second, even as it also had its germ in the first) is\nthe full enlightenment of the spirit or mind. And accordingly this full\nrevelation is in Scripture itself, as being the close and completion of\nthe whole, expressly described, and named the last time.\n\nBefore attempting, however, to point out the divine order in the\neducation of the human race, by the gradual revelation of truth, two\ngeneral and preliminary remarks seem called for. I observe, then, first\nof all, that when we speak of sense, soul, and spirit, as the successive\nterms in the growing capacity of the human consciousness for a higher\nknowledge and heavenly training, and for truth in general, but more\nespecially for divine truth, then the general sense of truth, which such\nan hypothesis supposes, and which indeed is its essential foundation,\nmust be understood as comprising all those other particular species,\nbranches, or departments which we have already enumerated. I mean the\ncommon sense of sound reason. For that susceptibility for the\nimpressions of nature, and the understanding, which, as I said before,\nconstitute the sense for the revelation of spirit, or the spirit of\nrevelation--whether written or historical--are alike comprised in that\none and common sense for truth. Or perhaps we may rather say, that by\ntheir joint operations they form it; while, however, in its special\napplication, now this now that constituent preponderates--or perhaps\nthat this one and universal sense for truth is called into action, and\nmade to co-operate now in this direction and now in that. Moreover, that\ninternal concurrence and assent of the will, which I have endeavored to\nshow is the proper sense in man for God and for divine things, belongs\nalso, as an essential and element of its constitution, to this general\nsense for truth. For that the opposite fault of self-will and obstinacy\nis in the highest degree a hinderance of good, even in the acquisition\nof knowledge and the recognition of truth, is found by experience in the\nearliest essays of education. But not only in the elementary principles\nof learning, but even in the most highly-finished and elaborate systems\nof metaphysical ideas, constructed by the profoundest thinkers and\nphilosophers, does this spirit of negation and contradiction show\nitself, and prove the greatest obstacle to truth and the most fruitful\nsource of error.\n\nThe second remark which we have to make before entering upon the\nimmediate subject of our Lecture refers to the natural progression of\nthe living development of the human consciousness. This gradation, we\nwould observe, holds good, and is applicable, not merely to the moral\neducation of man, but also to the intellectual improvement of man\u2019s\ncapacity, as at present constituted, for all higher and divine verities.\nBut, however true this may be, where the general sense for truth is not\nfrom the first open and full of light, where the soul is not already\nperfectly free and pure; yet on the other hand there is nothing\nagainst--on the contrary, every thing favors the supposition, that the\nearliest revelation imparted to mankind--the illumination which was\ngiven to the first man, and bestowed upon him as his heavenly\ninheritance on earth, was a full and perfect enlightenment of his mind\n[_geist_]. For his senses were open and clear, his soul as yet\nincorrupt, pure, and free. Both were directed to God, and being one with\nand at unison with nature, were keenly alive to and deeply impressed by\nevery token of God\u2019s glory and majesty in creation. It is quite an error\nto assume, or, rather, to fancy, that this state of purity and innocence\nwas a state of ignorance like that of the child or of the wild man. The\ntree of life was given to him entirely and without reserve, as also\ndominion over the earth, whose first-made living creatures the Lord\nsubjected to his dominion, bringing them before him to call and to name\nthem. The knowledge of death was indeed designedly withheld from him, as\nalso the existence of the evil spirits, even because it was exactly\ntherein that his trial and probation were to consist. And so both are\nperfectly reconcilable: that height of knowledge in the clearest light\nof nature, which the sacred traditions of all primitive nations so\npositively and unanimously assign to the first man, is in nowise\ninconsistent with that ignorance of death which is no less expressly\nascribed to him. Moreover, had man but preserved and kept alive in his\nheart this feeling of God, he would immediately have recognized his\nenemy, and even thereby have triumphed over him, and become the redeemer\nof nature, instead of requiring, now that he has failed in that his high\ndestination, a Redeemer for his own fallen race. This first revelation,\ntherefore, was, we may well assume, in the beginning as it will also be\nin the end, a full enlightenment of the spirit of man, but which,\nhowever, was soon darkened by his disobedience and fall. This, too, is\nthe shape which the matter assumes in the legendary history of all the\nprimeval nations of antiquity, and these are the threads of light which\nin the labyrinthine confusion of legends, symbols, and tongues of\nearliest heathendom, carry us safely out of its mazes and back to the\nclear starting-point of the pure and undefiled revelation of God. It\nwere not difficult to show how, through the first two millenniums and a\nhalf, or five-and-twenty centuries, a higher providence and divine\nguidance was ever quietly carrying on these luminous threads of original\ntruth, and from time to time renewing them. But this history of the\nhuman mind in the primeval world, however highly attractive, would take\nus out of our proper limits. Upon the eclipse of man\u2019s soul, when\nspiritual darkness universally prevailed, the senses originally open to\na higher light were closed against it. His better perceptions were\noverwhelmed or buried beneath a chaos of true and false or half-true\nimages and symbols. Then it was that the natural law of spiritual\ndevelopment commenced in its full force. It followed the progression\nalready described. In the first term the numbed and deadened sense had\nto be awakened and quickened again, and in its second the soul renewed,\npurified, and converted, before either could become susceptible of the\nfull and perfect illumination of the Spirit. To trace this natural law\nin the human consciousness and in the divine education of mankind, and\nto ascertain the progressive steps in the divine revelations, expressly\ngiven and designed to effect that gradual development, is the object of\nthe present Lecture.\n\nThe first step or term thereof was the selection of a single people to\nbe the schoolmaster of the whole human race.[37] When the heathenish\nmass of legends or myths and symbols had reached the height of\nconfusion, and the evil had become otherwise incurable, one nation was\nchosen and set apart by God as His instrument in opening the eyes of men\nto the abyss of error in which the whole world was plunged, and to\ndirect their looks exclusively to the future. Many prophets were sent to\nthe chosen people, and it was at first guided and ruled by none but\nprophets. And, perhaps, we can not form a more correct notion of the\ncharacter and history of this people, so peculiarly distinguished from\nall the other nations of the ancient world, than by thinking of it\nabsolutely and in its destination as the _prophetic_ people exclusively\nintended to point to a distant future, and whose leading ideas and\ninmost feelings were to be attached to, and to look far into, a remote\nfuturity. Three strokes or words, at most, comprise the highly-simple\nrevelation of the first stage--the first ray of light at the\nbeginning--in which, however, lies contained the hidden key and solution\nfor the chaos of legends, and all the enigmas of the primitive world and\nof primeval history. But this brief and simple revelation was\naccompanied with a strict line of demarcation between the Gentiles and\nthe chosen people, who were separated from all the heathen nations by\ncustoms and laws, while a long ray of hope reached far into the distant\nfuture. This point of light at the beginning was, however, but little\nconsidered and ill-understood; the line of demarcation, too, was often\ntransgressed upon the slightest pretext and most ordinary temptations.\nAnd when at last it was more strictly kept, it was observed, not in its\nspirit, but in the letter; and, in consequence, even that high and\nlofty-hope which irradiated it was totally misunderstood, being\ninterpreted, in a narrow spirit of national exclusiveness, of a temporal\nRedeemer, and a political redemption from the yoke of the Roman\noppressor. This delusion, and the extreme ingratitude with which,\nconsequently, the Light that came into the world was, on the whole,\nreceived by those to whom It was in the first place communicated, has\nbeen often painted in the darkest colors of indignant censure by the\nstern pen of history. The stiffneckedness of the Jews has been a\nfruitful theme for virtuous indignation. But, for my part, I hardly know\nwhether, in this respect, a different and more favorable sentence can be\npassed on the generations which have witnessed the subsequent steps of\ndivine revelation in its further development. Full time was allowed to\nthe prophetic people to develop itself; and, after the lapse of\ntwenty-fire centuries, which make up the first age of the world, a\nmillennium and a half was allowed to this initiatory step of revelation.\nAnd now, at length, after forty centuries of preparation and hope, when\nthe long, dark winter of the olden idolatry was over, the historical\ndevelopment of the human race reached its culminating point, and with\nthe vernal solstice [_Fruhling\u2019s-Solstitium_] of this new manifestation\ncommenced the second term in this series of revelation or of the divine\neducation of the human race. Even from its very first opening, every\nthing characterizes this second term of development as not intended for\na complete and final revelation of spirit and knowledge. Promising, and\nreserving to the future that final manifestation, it forms, in this\nrespect, a marked contrast to the highly-cultivated science of the\nGreeks, which, however, in spite of its high pretensions, did but become\ncontinually more and more sensuous in its character. The immediate\nobject of this second enlightenment of the whole human race was to be a\ntotal conversion of the soul from its previous earthly darkness to the\neverlasting light and the one and only Sun of Truth, and thereby to\neffect a complete renewal of life, and a reformation of all its habits,\ncustoms, and institutions. This alone did God require; and glorious, and\nnoble, and deeply-touching was the conflict in which this wholly new but\nheaven-descended sentiment had to engage with the opposing spirit of the\nold world.\n\nBut men soon relapsed into their former discord; and it is now our\npainful task to point out the rise and growth of this dissension through\nthe succeeding eras of history. For thus only--by considering, in every\nperiod, man\u2019s relation, or, rather, his opposition, to the divine\nrevelation--is it possible, amid the rapid progress of the widening\ndisagreement, to trace the divine order which rules amid the anarchy of\nmind, and to follow it along its path of light up to its appointed end,\nand to its close and conclusion.\n\nIn the first three or four centuries of Christianity, this spirit of\nopposition showed itself in two different forms. In the one, the new and\nsimple faith was first of all perverted into a chaos of philosophical\nfictions of an old Asiatic character.[38] In the other, a secret and\nhalf infidelity hid itself behind a veil of words,[39] against which the\nfaith must defend itself behind an outwork of words also; and in this\nperiod of history, a subtile and refined logomachy first of all attained\nto a great and lasting importance for mankind. In this dispute, the\nsimple foundation of the faith was indeed maintained and defended, in\nits purity and integrity, against all hostile attacks; but the\nfirst-love lost much of its freshness and ardor. Consequently the new\nlife, which sprung up with the new faith, was unable to fulfill the\nhopes which at its first rise men had reasonably entertained of it, and,\nby reforming the corrupt civilization of the old Roman world, to renew\nit entirely in God. Accordingly, an alien and purely physical element\nhad to be associated with it. The northern nations were called in to\ninfuse fresh energy into the worn-out races of England.\n\nIn this work of physical regeneration three centuries were again spent.\nBut at the close of this first period, it was seen, on a sudden, how\nlittle the olden spirit of dissension had been really conquered, or even\nmollified. The faith, it was said, may, in all essential points, be\nperfectly identical, but a division may be, and still subsists,\nnotwithstanding. But what does that mean, but that the God and Savior\nof the world worshiped by the East, is different from Him whom the West\nacknowledges? And thus the one God and the one faith was in the life of\nman again divided into two; and this singular schism, without any\nadequate cause, still subsists to the present day.[40] In the following\ngreat period a fresh life blossomed in rich and manifold expansion out\nof that revelation of love which, properly speaking, now first of all\nput forth its full vital energies, giving a new shape to all the\ninstitutions of human society, and impressing on art, as well as on\nmoral and political science, a new character, totally different from\nthat which they possessed among the most enlightened nations of\nantiquity. Viewed in its loving aspect, _i.e._, in its chivalry, there\nis much in this period to attract and engage our enthusiasm and\nsympathies, but for the fearful discord which broke out within it, and\nset one half of the world in hostile array against the other. The two\npowers which ought to work together for one divine end--the two swords\nof which the Lord had said, \u201cIt is enough,\u201d[41]--the spiritual sword of\nthe kingdom of faith and truth, and the civil sword of earthly justice,\nwere drawn and held in threatening attitude against each other, by\nwhich, however, the minds of men were torn and distracted by the inward\nstruggle of conflicting duties in a far greater degree than the external\npeace of society was disturbed. But it was not merely in such a\ncollision that the strife alone showed itself; but it extended even to\nthe confusion of the two domains, and a forgetfulness of their proper\nduties and respective positions.\n\nIn the instance, it is true, of the mailed ecclesiastic, however, at\nfirst sight, the union in one person of such opposite characters as the\nsoldier and priest may startle the mind, the gallant and noble bearing\nof the spiritual knight soon reconciles us to the strange phenomenon.\nSo, too, when he whose vocation it was to hold the pastoral staff began\nalso to sway the scepter of a civil prince, the eminent skill and\njudgment with which the difficult task of discharging the double and\noften conflicting duties of so mixed a sovereignty was accomplished,\nsilence every murmur of a protest. But when he who ought to carry the\ncrosier of peace hoisted the pennon of war, such a sight naturally gave\ngreat offense, and sadly perplexed the minds of men.\n\nThus, then, passed seven centuries more, making, with the eight already\ndescribed, fifteen altogether that have elapsed from that great center\nof the world\u2019s history, when the spiritual sun reached its meridian\naltitude in this earthly life. These, added to the fifteen which had\npreviously passed from the first shining of the light of revelation,\nmake no less than three millenneums. And to these, again, three\ncenturies more are to be added. Such is the extremely slow course of the\ndivine guidance of the world, as regulated by the inexhaustible patience\nand long-suffering of God in the education of his human creatures.\n\nIn this last period, however, the spirit of discord has become still\nmore general, and has broken out in all its violence, gradually\nattacking and drawing into the dispute every institution of society and\nevery department of life. In the wonderful coincidence of many and great\ndiscoveries, simultaneously made in widely-distinct and independent\nbranches of science, the spirit of man read the proclamation of his\nmajority. Conscious of this intellectual ripeness, in the first use of\nits new powers it assumed toward the faith an attitude of estrangement\nand controversy, instead of calmly advancing along the assigned path\ntoward perfection. Even at the very commencement of this period, the\nhostile relation between the new science and the ancient faith is\nperceptible enough. But it soon showed itself more distinctly, as the\nrupture became wider and more general, till at last the discord extended\nto the very faith itself, which was henceforth broken up into bitter and\nopposing parties. Still later, a newer and deeper animosity divided the\nfaith in general from the whole civil and political life, from which in\nmany places its religious foundation was altogether removed. And now\nthat life was thus deprived of its higher and spiritual significance,\nthe strife became universal and complete. Involving science and life\ninto the discord, it set them also in deadly array against each\nother--for life thus unspiritualized could no longer reconcile itself to\nthe dreamy ideal of a science which at most was but partially true,\nwhile life itself could not satisfy the requisitions of science. And\nfearful was the outbreak in which this last antagonism of principle\nopenly displayed its animosity.\n\nThis fourfold schism, then--first, between science and faith; secondly,\nin the faith itself; thirdly, between life and faith; and lastly,\nbetween the new science (which usurped the place of the faith it had\ndiscarded) and life itself--this fourfold schism, with its several\nbranches and ramifications, extending to every department of human\nexistence, lies now before us, in the present age, as the still-unsolved\nproblem of life.\n\nAnd who but God alone shall or is able to solve it? As a question of\ndispute, this problem--and especially its inmost root, the schism in the\nfaith--can be profitably discussed only in the spirit of love and mutual\nforbearance between cognate and kindred minds, who, while they think\ndifferently on a few points, yet agree in most. Many works might be\nadduced on both sides, composed in that conciliatory spirit of\napproximation which is most accordant with true philosophy, whose first\neffort is, in all cases, directed to reconciling and removing the\ndeeply-rooted animosities of human nature. To a complete decision,\nhowever, of the whole matter in question, we shall never arrive on the\nroad of disputation. Even though the dispute were maintained with the\nmost valid reasoning, and were conducted with the most dignified\nforbearance and mildness, the attempt would only be lost labor. For\nthere exists no supreme court of appeal to whose sentence both sides\nwould be ready to submit. On the one side, the reason--which advances\nwith unlimited freedom in its investigations--and faith on the other,\nwith its assumed authority to decide in the last instance, would alike\nrefuse to acknowledge its adversary as a competent tribunal.\n\nThus deeply piercing into the very marrow of humanity, and thus mortal\nis the conflict. Indeed, a man can scarcely touch upon it without being\ncarried almost involuntarily into the very midst of the strife, and very\nfortunate may he account himself if he retires from it unscathed. And if\nit were only from a mere human point of view of a scientific dispute\nthat I had to consider it, good reason should I have to be on my guard,\nlest on this matter my mind should be, as it were, forcibly rent and\ndivided into two halves. I have, however, at present no anxiety of the\nkind. For my purpose is solely and entirely to trace out the divine\norder in the revelation progressively given to mankind, and following\nthis luminous thread to lead reflection up to the finishing close of\nGod\u2019s education of the human race, where, in the full shining of the\nperfect day, there shall be no more controversy and no more doubt.\nViewing the matter in this light, I see but little to attract my\nsympathies in the publicly-conducted controversy, however highly\nimportant and pre-eminent a place it may hold in the history of the\nworld. Far more attractive to me are those isolated and retiring spirits\non both sides who, taking but little, if any, part in the prevailing\ndispute, have their eyes directed rather to the future, in watchful\nexpectation of that full and final illumination, with all its attendant\npromises--among which we must reckon, first and foremost, the peace and\njoy of believing--in the last revelation of divine mind. Of these calmer\nspirits, however, some have actually fallen, and others have been on the\nvery brink of falling, into the plausible error of regarding this third\nstep of enlightenment as an absolutely new revelation, whereas it is\nquite clear that it will be nothing more than the simple completion of\nthe earlier steps. For a revelation which should give itself out as\nperfectly new, apart from and independent of that saving illumination of\nthe soul which marks the second step, and which we are already in\npossession of--which should disavow this earlier divine revelation of\nthe heart, of love and life in faith, which is withheld from no one, and\nwhich every one knows, would, even by such an announcement, proclaim its\nown falsity. New heavens and a new earth are indeed expressly promised\namong the blessings of this last age. Mention is also made of a Gospel\nthat shall be preached \u201cunto all them that dwell on the earth, and to\nevery nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people.\u201d[42] This Gospel,\nhowever, is nowhere called a new one; since in the old one there is\nenough for life, if only it be duly observed, and also for knowledge, if\nonly it be rightly understood. But it is called the \u201ceverlasting\u201d\nGospel; and by this term it is plain that nothing is to be understood\nbut this full light of divine knowledge now made perfect in God, and\nwhich has become one with faith, and, consequently, fully reconciled\nwith life also. In this domain, and in this spiritual sense, it is not\nnecessary that the fair morning-star of faith, which has guided us\nthrough the dark night, and lighted us to the day-spring, should become\nextinct when the sun ascends the heavens in his full meridian splendor.\nOn the contrary, it shall burn the more brightly; or, rather, to speak\nmore correctly--for here no such contrast finds a place--it is the\nmorning-star itself that shall expand into the full sun, and illuminate\nthe whole world with its light.\n\nWaiting, therefore, for this manifestation, we must endure with the more\npatience the existing discord so long as our lot is placed amid it, and\nshow greater moderation toward it, since we are subject to it in hope.\nOnly let me not be thought of as recommending a spurious impartiality,\nwhich, in truth, is little better than a culpable indifference to\nquestions the most important that can agitate our own generation and all\nhumanity--or the indiscriminating contempt of an arrogated superiority,\nwhich is even still more offensive and baneful to truth than the most\nvehement adoption of either of the conflicting views, if associated with\nhonesty of purpose and conviction. As little, too, would I be thought to\nfavor the presumptuous decisions of individuals, which, adopting a\npeculiar principle, or, as it is styled, a higher point of view, even\nthough occasionally it does justice to each in part, yet on the whole\nmaterially wrongs them both. In the first ages of this intellectual\ndisease, great names were arrayed on either side; and that through all\nits variations brilliant talents and scientific attainments maintained\nthe conflict, while there was much that was false and wrong in both\nparties, is equally unquestionable. But what avails the unrighteousness\nof man against the righteousness of the cause, when, as we must, we\nregard the latter as the cause of God?\n\nThe painful feature of the conflict is the fact that, in a certain\nmeasure, God Himself has become the object of man\u2019s rancor and\nanimosity. In sacred lore and tradition, but pre-eminently in\nrevelation, God Himself became as it were a child; and in the childlike\nlanguage of the heart, and in the most confiding manner, gave Himself\ninto the hands of men. But now, even this marvelous child and the divine\nword is near being torn asunder by the disputants, like the child in the\nold story or parable. Two mothers, we are told, came and stood before\nthe king, disputing violently whose was the child that had been\noverlaid, and whose was the living one. But the true mother, for both\nhad fallen asleep in the night, was recognized by her prayer that the\nchild might not be divided in two by the sword of justice, but preferred\nthat her son should live, even though she must lose it by resigning it\nto the other. Whereupon the king ordered his officers in no wise to slay\nthe living child, but to give it to her who by her love had proved\nherself its mother.[43]\n\nBut for us the great sentence which is to decide all controversies, and\ncan alone put an end to this discord, is not yet pronounced. But, in\ntruth, the more confirmed symptoms of the deepening intellectual strife\nwhich mark the present generation, furnish one proof the more of the\nnear approach of the day of final decision. And then the perfect triumph\nof divine revelation and the fiery baptism of the Spirit, which in those\nlast days shall be administered, shall bring with it the long-promised\nuniversal peace of the soul when under a divine leader--the invisible\nOne now become visible--all that hope in Him, of all kindreds and\nfamilies, shall be reunited in Him in one love and one fellowship. A\nuniversal and perfect peace like this, which, according to revealed\ntruth, is the last that is to be imparted to the human race, and is even\nto continue for ever, must, it is natural to suppose, be preceded by a\nviolent but closing conflict. And do we not in our own age see such a\none developing itself in a manner unparalleled by all that have gone\nbefore in it? To this conflict of our age, then, I must now devote a few\nwords, and consider pre-eminently the relations subsisting between it\nand science.\n\nIn many and various ways, unquestionably, was the spirit of man called\nupon in this beautiful era of the restoration of science to consider\nitself ripe and mature; its feelings, too, answered to the call, and, in\nsome respects, perhaps it was even so. But let us examine the matter by\nthe same law of sound reason that we should judge of a corresponding\ncase in ordinary and social life. Let us suppose a youth to have\nattained his legal majority, or, perhaps, by his father\u2019s will, declared\nof age at a still earlier period. Is it right for him, all at once, to\nforget the love wherewith his mother has nursed and reared him? Is it\nright in him, misinterpreting altogether the motive of his father\u2019s\ndying wish, to cast off and trample under foot all the wise and useful\nlessons with which, according to the measure of his years, his mind was\nstored at school, merely because he has remarked or experienced that\nthere is much in life which was not touched upon in his school-learning?\nIf we saw this in private life, should we not form a very bad opinion of\nsuch a youth who so suddenly throws off all restraint, and take care\nthat sooner or later he should fall under another and stricter\noversight, since he has all at once outgrown parental control. Why,\nthen, should we form a different judgment in the realm of science and\ntruth? All eyes and universal expectation were directed to this\nrestoration of science. And these hopes were right in so far as through\nthe lapse of these last times which are hastening to a close, the course\nand trial of human nature are even to lie therein. But if, as already\npointed out, they fell into a grave error, who, even while they kept\nwithin the bounds of faith, looked upon the promised completion and\nfinal triumph of the divine and eternal revelation in the light of a new\nmanifestation of truth, and almost as a new religion; far greater was\nthe aberration of those who formed the conception of, and hoped to\nattain to, an ever-advancing science altogether without God, or at least\none which, proceeding side by side with Him, should never come into\nvital contact with Him! But men can not thus pass along by the side of\nOmnipotence, without coming into contact with him; and every effort to\nrise into the higher regions of truth, which is begun and intended to\nremain wholly without God, will, sooner or later, be directed against\nHim. And every branch of knowledge, and more especially the highest, if\nit be without God, is but a false light of the mind [_geist_], which\nwill only too soon beguile it into the olden darkness of the soul. And\nso it came to pass then. For under this smooth surface of a seeming\nmoral mildness, the lurking poison suddenly broke out, as it were, by a\nfearful conspiracy of the times, spreading its contagion far and wide,\nand corrupting every thing that came within its reach--even as it had\nbeen predicted of it in the second book of the future.[44]\n\nFor even out of the struggle of good against evil, the latter suddenly\narose again in a new and unexpected shape, coming forth, as it were, out\nof the sea, and the moral world was transformed into a sea of blood. And\nso, indeed, in these prophetic pages, it is predicted of the enigmas of\nthe last days. Now, throughout this great catastrophe of the world, so\nfar as it can be regarded as a peculiar and especial, but historical\nwarning from God, and a revelation of the divine will, we may trace,\namong the better disposed, the same gradation of illumination, advancing\nthrough the ascending series of sense, soul, and spirit, that we have\nalready noticed, on a larger scale, in the course of the history of\nmankind. The senses of many individuals become, indeed, more and more\nopen, the more clearly they recognized, by its historical characters,\nthe fatal abyss to which the age of the world was drawing nigh. The\nepoch of the restoration was, moreover, followed by a general revolution\nin the sentiments, the moral principles, and prevailing pursuits of men.\nThe third step, however, of a right and true knowledge which, from the\nposition of a full scientific enlightenment of the mind or spirit,\nshould penetrate into the profoundest depths of truth, is still wanting,\nor at any rate exists as yet only in a very imperfect degree. This\nproperty is the defective point in the problem of the age, and in all\nattempts hitherto made to solve it.\n\nThe false science, even that unhuman and godless science which has been\nalready described, can only be overcome and conquered by the true. The\nmere method of negation--which, generally, indeed, is seldom the right\none--is here, too, insufficient for the purpose. And so, in fact, when\nclouds of dust darken the air, or swarms of noxious insects fill it, it\nmay suffice if the goodman of the house shuts to his casement, as he may\nlawfully do, even because it is his own; but when the fearful\nthunderstorm is lowering in the heavens, the closed window will but\nlittle insure the safety of his dwelling, unless he has more wisely\nprovided against the danger, by a good lightning-conductor. But what is\nthat? And how came man first to think of it? Why, by studying the\nelectrical phenomena, and arriving at a full understanding of its\nnature, and so, in obedience to its laws, contriving a counteracting and\ndiverting agent for the electric current, and converting the natural\naction of the threatening element into an instrument of protection. And\njust in the same way will a true wisdom proceed in the domain of science\nand truth. It is only by a good power, of a like kind and similar action\nto its own, that the supremacy of evil can be overcome. Even, therefore,\nand to this purport was the earnest warning uttered by the mouth of\nTruth Itself against those who, although they sat in Moses\u2019s seat,\nneither went in themselves nor suffered others that were entering to go\nin.[45]\n\nAnd what a different picture does Holy Writ set before us in the noble\nexample of Moses! No doubt the preparation for the work to which he was\nto be called, of leading successfully the people intrusted to him by God\nout of their Egyptian darkness through the fearful Red Sea and all the\nwanderings in the wilderness, to the borders of the promised land, was\neven the forty years of solitude among the noble pastoral people with\nwhom he spent the long period of his exile. But still it is not without\na deep significance that it is written that the daughter of the Egyptian\nmonarch, having adopted the foundling of the waters, brought him up and\neducated him as her own son. So, too, assuredly is it not without design\nthat it is said so emphatically of him, that he \u201cwas learned in all the\nwisdom of the Egyptians.\u201d[46] In the first place, we have good reason to\nrejoice at and to acknowledge the comprehensive spirit and wide standard\nof judgment which Holy Writ here sets up. For whereas it passes a\nseverer sentence of reprobation on the Egyptians than on any other\nheathen nation or people, for their moral depravity, it yet acknowledges\nthat they possessed a scientific wisdom, which amply rewarded the labor\nof its acquisition, while it proved the very errors wherewith in their\nextreme corruption they had overloaded it, to be only the more culpable\nand deserving of punishment. Shallow and superficial skeptics may,\nindeed, as many have already done, avail themselves of such an\nadmission, and cry, \u201cThere! it is plain enough--Moses borrowed every\nthing from Egypt and the hieroglyphics.\u201d\n\nBut this is not the case. No doubt both the first ten and the last\ntwelve letters of the Hebrew alphabet are hieroglyphics, as their very\nnames indicate; but in its primary natural roots, nevertheless, and,\nabove all, in its whole spirit, and structure, and tone, this language\ndiffers widely from the hieroglyphical Egyptian. Certainly Moses did\nlearn from Egypt all that there was for him to learn. And this learning\nenabled him the more easily to disperse the thick Egyptian darkness, and\nthe less cause, consequently, had he to fear the false arts of the\nEgyptian magicians and serpent-charmers. He took from them all that was\navailable for his purpose, but he made it quite new again, and gave it\nanother nature by the end to which he employed it. He despoiled them of\ntheir \u201cjewels of gold and jewels of silver,\u201d by a theft permissible in\nthe realm of science and truth. For it is lawful for man to wrest from\nthe evil power all that may be converted into a means of honoring the\nthings of God and His revealed truth, and which thereby is better\nemployed, spiritualized, and invested with a higher and better\nsignificance. This is true even of our own days, as it was then, and,\nindeed, always has been.\n\nOh, that the many great men who, in our own generation, have deserved\nso well of mankind, by devoting themselves to the noble work of\nre-establishing right sentiments and principles, had, in this their good\ndesign, followed the great example set them by this man so highly\npreferred of God! But, with one or two exceptions, it is impossible to\nboast of them that, like Moses, they were \u201clearned in all the wisdom of\nthe Egyptians.\u201d And hence the fact is at once explicable why, with such\nardent and unbounded zeal, they should have effected comparatively so\nlittle against the modern Egyptians, and the new Egyptian darkness of\nour own days.\n\nAn intellectual conflict about truth, and, indeed, about divine truth,\nis the struggle of our age. This fact is already seen and admitted by a\nfew, but, ere long, it will be still more generally acknowledged. God is\na spirit of truth; and even on this account is His adversary, the spirit\nof contradiction, termed \u201ca liar from the beginning;\u201d and, of all the\npowerful instruments and wicked devices of that evil one, the lie is the\nfirst and chiefest. And this suggests to me to notice, in passing, a\npoint in the moral systems of our day, notwithstanding that it does not\nproperly lie within our prescribed limits. In most of our ethical\ntreatises the question of falsehood and untruth is but carelessly\ntreated, and seldom discussed with that prominence and gravity which its\ngreat importance demands. Overt transgressions of the laws belong rather\nto jurisprudence than to ethics, which properly treats of and analyzes\nthe leading faults of human character as so many diseases of the soul.\nNow, the worst among these are usually denominated mortal, _i.e._,\nlikely to bring the soul unto death; but the lie, in the full import of\nthe term--the intrinsic proper lie of the soul, as the predominant fault\nin a character of untruth--a whole life become, as it were, one great\nlie, is far more than mortal--it is even death itself. And it is even of\nthis sin--this secret revolting against and wounding of the Spirit, even\nthe divine Spirit of Eternal Truth--that is said in Holy Writ, that it\nshall be forgiven neither in this world nor in the next.\n\nOn this point, then, I think that moral theory and teaching can never be\nstern and rigorous enough in its precepts, especially as regards\nindividuals. It is not, indeed, a question about words, but about their\ninterpretation, and what is meant by those who use them; and in this\nrespect there may be, and often is a false and over-scrupulous delicacy\nof conscience. When, however, we remember how, in particular ages of\nhistory, oaths have been played with--millions of oaths lavishly\nproffered and shortly retaken in quite a different and opposite sense,\nand soon again abjured with as little difficulty; and when we consider\nthe evil effects this trifling with the most solemn of obligations must\nhave had on the moral character of a people, we can not but see some\nexcuse in this monstrous fact for certain small communities of\nChristians who absolutely refuse to take an oath in any case. For when,\nin the important point of truth and falsehood, a grave error has been\ncommitted on one side, it is better to meet it on the other by too great\nstrictness. A rigorous severity can never entail such fearful\nconsequences in such a case, as the opposite fault of an over-indulgent\nlaxity, or, what is even still more false and erroneous, the regarding\nthe matter as trifling and indifferent. But the further prosecution of\nthis topic would lead me out of my proper province, and I have only\ntouched upon it in passing to that which lies more immediately before\nus.\n\nIf, then, there is nothing so dangerous to the character of an\nindividual, both inwardly and outwardly--if there is nothing that works\nso insidiously, conveying its secret poison to the very lowest roots and\nextremities of the moral character, as untruth and the spirit of lying,\nhow much more fearful must its malignant influence prove when it is\nbecome the universal and prevailing fault of an age which has not only\nwandered far from the truth, but is even animated with a deadly hatred\nof it!\n\nIt is to this spirit of lies, and the false splendor of his colossal\nempire, and to the final conflict which truth will have to wage with it\non earth, that the most awful of the prophecies already alluded to\nrefer. And the application is easily made, since a greater part of their\nwarning denunciations have in our age already come to an actual\nfulfillment. If, then, this giant spirit of destruction and untruth was\nstrong enough even in his cradle to throttle two quarters of the\nworld,[47] what must it be now that the permitted interval of rest has\npassed away without being profitably employed to the cause of truth, and\nnow that this same spirit of murder and lies, with a far greater body,\nand endued with far more magical powers, is let loose again to tread\nthe earth for a while with iron feet, and to deceive the nations?\n\nThose whose responsible position in public life, or comprehensive sphere\nof intellectual activity, enable them to take in at one glance all the\nvarious elements of evil and pernicious principles and destructive\ntendencies which are so actively at work in our days, will not, perhaps,\nbe disposed to regard these remarks as groundless or exaggerated;\nothers, perhaps, may make a mock at them--but they may go on in their\ndelusion for a while.\n\nIn conclusion, I have but three observations to add. The first regards\nthe divine permission of evil, and is intended to form a supplement to\nthat Theodic\u00e9e which I have attempted, in the only way that such a\njustification of the divine ways is permissible to man, by appealing,\nviz., to his feelings, rather than by attempting to force his conviction\nby the rigor of demonstration. The full justification of the ways of\nProvidence is reserved for a future day, when all mouths shall be\nstopped, whether that awful crisis be near at hand or yet tarries for a\nwhile. If, now, the human race be actually sick and in a sickly state,\nas indeed can not well be denied, then must God\u2019s overruling providence\nin the affairs of the world be judged of in the same light as, and be\ncompared to, the wise treatment of a skillful physician. For as the\nlatter, in the case of a patient whose death was to be apprehended from\na total prostration of his bodily powers and energy, might wish for or\neven venture to super-induce a violent paroxysm, in the hope that in it\nhe might perhaps be able to throw off his fatal lethargy; even so, in\nGod\u2019s government of the world, those predetermined counsels, which seem\nso singular, but, nevertheless, are so expressly foretold, may have a\nsomewhat similar design. In the times of the last struggle the power of\ndarkness will probably work itself to death on the earth; and while the\nremnant shall come out of the crisis and fiery trial purer and\nhealthier, the divine truth is to gain a complete triumph over sin and\ndeath.\n\nThe second remark I have to make applies to ourselves and all the\nwell-disposed among our cotemporaries, and refers to the disunion which\nsubsists in these evil times even among the best of men. Were two\nnations threatened in common by a formidable enemy, would they not,\nhowever widely they might differ in, or perhaps be estranged from each\nother by their respective constitutions languages, and customs, forget\nin the moment of danger their characteristic differences, and, laying\naside all previous feelings of jealousy or estrangement, unite for their\nmutual protection and safety? My heart\u2019s wish, therefore, is that all\nthe truly pious and well-wishers of truth, on whichever of the two sides\nof the now divided faith they may stand, would unite together without\nsacrificing those more intimate differences which can not at present be\ngot rid of or reconciled, and, making a righteous peace of mutual\nforbearance, join together in a firm alliance against the common enemy\nof all truth and all faith. For that the dearest interests of religion\nare in our generation exposed to a violent assault, and menaced with\ngreat and immediate danger, will not be denied by any lover of truth,\neven though his conception of the truth may differ from mine.\n\nLastly, the third observation that I promised will not take the form of\nthe utterance of a wish, as rather of the expression of the firmest\nconviction, that, however awful and severe this final conflict may\nprove, the good cause will not eventually be lost, but that the great\nbattle will have a favorable issue in the complete victory of divine\nrevelation, and the celestial wisdom in the government of this kingdom\nof truth will be fully manifest both to men and angels.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VIII.\n\nOF THE DIVINE ORDER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD AND THE RELATIONS OF\nSTATES.\n\n\n\u201cThe history of the world is the world\u2019s tribunal,\u201d[48] says one of our\nmost famous poets. If by these words he meant to convey an opinion that\nno other tribunal of judgment is to be expected than that which is even\nnow set up in the history of the world, then such an opinion, implying\nthat the human race is to live forever in its present state, and in this\nparticular terrestrial life, would be even as groundless as that of the\nfanciful conceit that the human race had existed from all eternity, if,\nin sooth, any of the philosophical dreamers of antiquity had ever fallen\non such a fancy, or, in modern times, any of the antipodes to the usual\ncurrent mode of thinking should ever stumble upon it. The poet himself,\nas dramatist and artist, would but have taken it ill had any one laid\nbefore him a great drama, composed of several acts and scenes, from\nwhich, however, the beginning was torn off, and which, ever going on,\nuntied the existing perplexities only to fall again into new and fresh\ncomplications; or like a poor journal ever referring to a continuation,\nhad no true end, no conclusion or proper termination. But unquestionably\na better sense is also contained in the poet\u2019s words. He may have merely\nmeant to say that the mind which rules the course of mundane affairs is\na mind that inflicts retribution on the world; and that all the great\nepochs and incidents of history have a retributive character and\nvindicatory significance.[49] Such an interpretation of the words,\nwhich indeed suits well with the author\u2019s serious mind and character,\nwould bring them in perfect unison with my own sentiments, and\nadequately express the truth which forms the theme of our present\nconsideration on the divine order in the history of the human race.\n\nThe human race, then, as it had a beginning, so also will it have an\nend; it will not continue forever in this present form, but must\neventually come to a termination. But, to speak according to the measure\nof a divine chronology, where a thousand years are but as one day, who\ncan say, who shall dare, off-hand, to decide whether six or seven of\nthese great days of God are fixed for its duration? Enough to know that\nwe stand on the borders of the fourth age, and on the passage from the\nthird to the fourth. And not unimportant is it, on the other hand, for\nthe clear understanding of the whole, to form a right conception of each\nof these, its great divisions and epochs. The first age is made up of\nthe twenty-five centuries of obscure primeval history. The second, which\nwe called the age of preparation, is formed by the fifteen hundred years\nwhich we reckon from the end of the first up to the center and\nturning-point of the history of the world as known to us, and from which\nmodern history takes its commencement. Even in the oldest traditionary\nhistory of the Gentile nations of antiquity we do not meet with any\nstatements that can be relied upon, or any tenable data beyond, if\nindeed so far back as, the fifteenth century before the epoch of the\ncommencement of modern history. The fifteen centuries which follow this\nepoch form the third age, in which this principle of a new life in the\nspiritual, moral, and political world had to develop and completely to\nunfold itself. In the last Lecture I also reckoned in this period the\nsixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries of our era. But if it\nseems to any more advisable to consider these as the introductory\nportion of the fourth and subsisting age, there is nothing positively to\ncondemn such a mode of reckoning; only, for my part, I can not but\nregard it as less correct and more inaccurate than the one which I have\nproposed. In one case as well as the other the same important\nconsideration will be involved. Reckoning from some point or other\nwithin these last forty years, we have, it must be acknowledged by all,\nentered upon a grand and decisive epoch in the history of the world; and\nour attention can not be too often or too strongly directed to the fact,\nthat we stand at the critical point of transition from one great period\nto another.\n\nNow one of the most characteristic signs by which such important moments\nof general revolution in the history of the world are, for the most\npart, known and distinguished, is a number of great events pressed\nclosely together and following each other in rapid succession; or, in\nother words, the accelerated course of time. It is no new remark, that,\nin the political history of our own age, modern Europe has, in the short\nspace of two-and-twenty years, ran through all the epochs of the old\nRoman world, from the first party struggles of the republic, and its\nlong wars with Carthage, that mistress of the seas, up to the imperial\nrule of the C\u00e6sars, in the first reigns mild and indulgent, but at the\nlast so fearfully oppressive and cruel; and even up to the final\nimmigration of the northern nations. Such a simple remark is alone\nsufficient proof that another law now rules in the history of the\nworld--a quicker life pulsates in its arteries than beat in the calmer\ndays of old. Whether, however, this life be thoroughly sound, or, on the\ncontrary, sickly and feverish, that is quite another question.\n\nBut not only in the political world, but also in the intellectual domain\nof science has the same accelerated course been noticeable. Only, as\ncompared with that of antiquity, the course or direction pursued by\nmodern science is altogether different. We have traveled with equal\ncelerity, but in quite an opposite course to the ancients. Starting from\nthe last term, we have reversed the series of their mental progression.\nFirst of all, in the last decades of the preceding century, the\nEpicurean cast of thought, or one very nearly resembling it, was the one\nchiefly predominant in the philosophical world. And then, together with\nbut subordinate to it, came scholastic subtilties and hair-splitting\ndistinctions, similar to those of the later Greek schools, not\nunaccompanied, perhaps, with the same patient industry of research and\nextensive erudition, and exercising altogether on the minds of men an\ninfluence no less wide, nor less pernicious, than did the most brilliant\nof the sophists of Greece. All the erroneous systems which it was\npossible for the human mind to embrace, and which are grounded in its\nessential qualities, or which could possibly originate in any (so to\nspeak) of its inborn misconceptions, which it took the Greeks several\ncenturies to evolve in slow succession, our age has rapidly, and almost\nsimultaneously, run through in as many decades. And in this fact, if I\ndo not greatly deceive myself, there is much ground of consolation. It\nencourages me to hope that this inverse progression is leading us back\nagain to the truth--that in this ascending line we are gradually coming\nnearer to the better times of the first great philosophers of Greece--of\na Plato, a Socrates, and a Pythagoras. It must be self-evident, that in\nthis case, and still more so in that analogy of political history which\nI have so recently noticed, as generally, in all such historical\nparallels, nothing more is intended to be asserted than a general\nresemblance, which, however, as such, is eminently remarkable. It would\nnot, perhaps, be difficult anxiously to work out the general resemblance\ninto points of detail, but such an overwrought assimilation could only\nlead to false conclusions and results.\n\nNow that the conflict which our age has to go through is eminently\nintellectual is implied simply in the prevailing notion of a _public\nopinion_ and its influence. But, at the same time, we must observe, that\nin the very notion of opinion, and in the word itself, there is involved\na certain character of extreme vagueness and uncertainty. No doubt that\nwhich man can properly be said to know is extremely limited and\nconfined. Of very much all that we can have is merely an opinion, and\nwith that must we be content to put up. Nay, inasmuch as all scientific\ncertainty admits not of being imparted to all men, very much of that\nwhich we do properly and certainly know is best and most beneficially\nset forth to others merely as an opinion, in order that we may not seem\nto force their minds to the admission of this higher certainty. And what\nis there that the passions of a prejudiced or excited multitude can not\nbe made to adopt as an opinion, which, if presented to them as a sober\nconviction of reason, would never make an impression? So devoid are\nthey, generally, of that intelligence and accurate knowledge of men and\nthings which are essential and necessary to the formation of a right\njudgment. If, instead of public opinion (which, unquestionably, is a\ngreat power, but which, if it takes a wrong direction, is also a very\ndangerous one), the appeal were to be made to a public conscience, this\nwould be, to my mind, far more impressive and serious. To illustrate my\nmeaning:--the impression which the events of 1793 made on the general\nfeeling of all Europe, and the universal movement of discontent which,\namong all European nations, preceded the great political catastrophe of\nour own days, are instances to which the old maxim, _vox populi vox\nDei_, may, without hesitation, be applied. Such feelings are founded on\na true and higher judgment--often on a correct presentiment of evil and\nwrong--even though, as we must admit, that in their utterance more or\nless of passion and exaggeration reveals itself, and that individual\nprejudices are not unfrequently mixed up with them. But now seldom, in\nthe ebbing and flooding tide, in the ever-changing course of the stream\nof public opinion, flows there aught that truly deserves to be called a\npublic judgment. And yet public opinion is even that on which, in this\nrespect, and relatively to the theme of our present Lecture, every thing\nmainly and principally turns.\n\nIn discussing the theory of consciousness a chasm remained, or, rather,\nwas intentionally left open, and the present seems the appropriate place\nfor filling it up and supplying it. The power, or, rather, the faculty\nof judgment has not, as yet, had its place assigned it. The reason, with\nits immediate subordinates, memory and conscience--the fancy, with its\nsubordinates, the senses and inclinations, form six faculties of the\ninner man, with which the understanding and will make together eight.\nThe ninth is the living, loving, feeling soul, which, although it be the\ncenter of the whole consciousness, must, nevertheless, be counted as an\nindependent and peculiar faculty. As for the heart [_Gemuth_]--as some\npeculiarly designate the collective sum of the tender, moral emotions of\nthe soul, and which, at any rate, must be carefully distinguished from\nthe conscience, and also from love--it is, however, a kind of\napplication of the triple relation and function of the soul rather than\nan independent faculty. But the tenth faculty, which completes the whole\ncycle and theory of the human consciousness, and which may be regarded\nas its crown and perfection, is the judgment, or, in other words, the\njudging mind [_geist_].\n\nBut now, if this term judgment be understood purely in a logical sense,\nas that process of thought which forms combinations and deductions, and\nby means of which we ascribe to a subject A a predicate B, this would\nfall very far short of the signification in which I here intend it to be\ntaken. Moreover, it would be, in truth, quite a superfluous task to\nseparate this cogitative relation, or this relative cogitation, from\nthe other logical functions of the understanding, and to make of it a\nspecial and independent faculty. The judgment is something higher than\nthis mere coupling in the thought of some special A with some general B.\nUnderstanding is the cognition of spirit and of that which it has\nuttered; and judgment is the decision between two things understood, or\nthe \u201cdiscerning of spirits.\u201d Of how great a multitude of intellectual\nrelations does a scientific or even an artistic judgment imply the\ncoincidence and concurrent action! And yet these are merely private\njudgments, which involve an assenting feeling in the individual, but\nbeyond that can not pretend to any valid authority. In practical life\nthe judicial function in the state alone furnishes an adequate standard\nfor estimating the high rank which the faculty of judgment holds as the\ncenter of the human consciousness. For, in the deliberative sentence of\nthe judge there is comprised both the mature art of the\nunderstanding--which has taken due cognizance of the matter, and\nimpartially discerned between two objects equally well understood--and\nalso a determination of the will: for, though the actual carrying into\neffect--that which properly and peculiarly constitutes a willing--belong\nnot to, but is independent of, the judge\u2019s office, still the conclusion\nof a positive judgment implies the existence of the first determining\nmotive of the will. In this one act of judging, therefore, there is\ncontained both functions of the mind [_geist_], understanding and\nwilling; and as the loving soul is the center of the consciousness, so\nthe judging mind, or spirit, is the highest of all its operations.\n\nIn the Book of Truth there is a sentence which admits of application\nhere. \u201cThere is none good,\u201d it is there written, \u201cbut one, that is,\nGod.\u201d However harsh and severe this judgment may sound at the first\nhearing, still, upon a little reflection, we shall see ample cause to\nadmit its justice. Man is not wholly and purely good; at the very best\nhe is not free from faults, and more or less of imperfection cleaves to\nall that he does or is. And even granting that a man might be found\ndevoid of all admixture of imperfection, and quite faultless and\nthoroughly good, still he was not so always and from the first. And even\nif any should here urge that the angels, who have continued such as they\nwere originally created, were good from the beginning, we must remember\nthat, at least, they are not good in and by themselves, but that, that\nthey are good, comes from God, who is the source of all goodness. Now,\njust in the same sense can we also say, Who judges rightly? There is\nnone that judges rightly but one, _i.e._, God. He is Himself the truth;\nand, therefore, He alone has the standard of truth in Himself, and all\ntruth has its ground and principle in Him alone. Every individual\njudgment and decision, in all important matters, has its ground, either\nmediately or immediately, in this divine basis, and its rectitude must\nbe estimated according to this standard. But this latter condition need\nnot make us foolishly anxious, for nothing impossible is required of us\nby God; and this requisition, like every other which He lays upon man,\nis modified by, and adjusted to, the measure of human finiteness. The\nconscientious judge, who, after a patient investigation of the cause as\nit is laid before him, and after a careful weighing of all the possible\nreasons and motives, nevertheless errs, or is deceived by a rare\ncoincidence of circumstances, stands, nevertheless, exonerated, even\nthough he should have passed an unjust sentence, and have had the\nmisfortune to condemn the innocent. Although, when he becomes aware of\nit, the thought must be painful enough to his own feelings, yet who, in\njustice, can reproach him merely because he was not omniscient? He who,\nin thought, in science, and in faith, adheres to this divine\nfoundation--the best and most certain that he can find, or that is any\nwhere offered to him, may rest calm and composed; he has done the utmost\nthat lies in his power. He alone, who makes a bad use of what he has and\nwhat has been given to him, like an unjust steward, need fear to give an\naccount of his stewardship.\n\nThis reference of all judicial sentences to, and their foundation in a\ndivine authority, is an idea which was not unknown even to the\nrepublican states of antiquity, as is evident from the way they\nexpressed themselves on the irrefragable sanctity of the laws and the\ninviolability of the supreme judicial power, and also in the maxims\nwhich they practically advanced on this subject. They honored herein a\nhigher and a diviner principle, of which, however, in theory they\npossessed no clear and perfect knowledge, though in practical life they\nwere taught by a correct feeling of sound reason and the natural\nconscience accurately enough to recognize and steadily and distinctly to\nrespect it. With us still more generally is it become an admitted\ndoctrine that all sovereignty and kingly power is of God, and that all\nobedience to the laws and to the supreme authority in the state rests\nultimately on a divine foundation and sanction. If very recently men\nwere for a while disposed to argue that political institutions must be\nfounded on the reason and its unconditional liberty, yet bitter\nexperience quickly convinced them of their error, and it was soon fully\nrefuted by the convincing argument of actual fact. And, accordingly,\ntheory has for the most part reverted to a right principle, and\nrecognized the divine authority as the true foundation of political\nauthority.\n\nBut the principle being thus generally recognized, it is, I think, still\nnecessary to distinguish with care and accurately to define in what\nsense the supreme ruler of the state is the vicegerent of God. The\nindefinite titles which are assumed by Eastern despots have always been\nalien to the habits of the West. But it is not enough to avoid such\nexaggerated titles of honor, if, nevertheless, the appeal to divine\nright be made so very vaguely, and simply in general terms to God\nhimself. In His absolute essence, God is wholly inconceivable; it is\nonly in his operations on man and nature, and in His relations to the\nhuman race, that we can at all think precisely of Him. It is only as\nCreator of the world, as the Lawgiver of nature, or as the Benefactor\nand Redeemer of mankind, and so forth, that we can form a clear and\ndistinct notion of the Godhead.\n\nNow, is the supreme ruler of the state God\u2019s deputy as Creator of the\nworld? Who would venture to assert any thing of the kind? It is true\nthat the paternal rule of the earthly parent, and the universal feeling\namong all peoples and nations of the sanctity of a father\u2019s authority,\nrests on a resemblance--which is, however, only symbolical--between his\nrelation and that of our unseen Father which is in heaven. And it is no\nless true, also, that the reign of a truly paternal monarch over his\npeople may be regarded as a mere amplification of the father\u2019s\ngovernment of his family; a good king is the father of his people. But\nsuch remote, although most significant analogies, furnish us with no\nprecise notion of right; and it is on such alone that the whole question\nhere turns. No doubt when a people is governed well and wisely--which is\neven the same as to say, paternally governed--it exhibits a wonderful\npower of natural development; productive industry flourishes, population\nincreases, and its physical and mental cultivation advances rapidly.\nUnfavorable seasons may undoubtedly check this tendency, and it will be\nentirely stopped as soon as the subject refuses to follow with loving\nconfidence the guiding hand of the paternal monarch. Whenever they whose\nduty it is to obey seek to be supreme, then are the natural energies of\na great people transmuted into a fearful element of universal\ndesolation.\n\nIf now we inquire in the next place how far it is allowable to compare\nthe highest authority in the state to the Lawgiver of nature, we shall\nfind that even in this respect the difference is so very great that\nanalogy almost entirely fails us. Holy, unquestionably, are the laws of\nevery political community in respect to the duty of obedience which they\nsuppose and require; but this is not paid spontaneously and naturally,\nbut needs to be enforced and maintained by pains and penalties. And not\nto speak of the stem laws of retributive justice, but rather of those\nmild and equitable enactments designed for the general benefit and the\nimprovement of the whole community; these are still more subject to the\nimperfection and manifold changes of human things. Suppose, for\ninstance, a measure promulgated in any country with the design of\nbalancing in some degree the agricultural and the manufacturing\ninterests--however wisely designed, it is found within a few years to\nhave totally failed; under it misery has but increased on both sides,\nand the law must be repealed or modified. But it is not so with the laws\nwhich God has implanted in the system of the universe: they never fail\nof their intended effect.\n\nDo we further ask in what, if in any respect, the earthly sovereign is\nthe deputy of God, as Redeemer, Emancipator, and Liberator? A notion of\ngrace and mercy does, we must admit, attach itself to our idea of\nsupreme authority; and in this respect it presents a sort of analogy and\nresemblance to the idea of the Godhead. Properly speaking, however, the\nexercise of grace and mercy forms an exception to the general rule of\nman\u2019s sovereignty, and belongs to him only in his special function as\nadministrator of justice. Moreover, the most paternal and beneficent of\nearthly rulers can at most provide only for the physical happiness of\nhis people. He may alleviate or avert heavy calamities, or procure many\ntemporal blessings and advantages for his subjects; but the unhappy soul\ncan be helped by One alone. The distinction I have just made will become\nmore apparent by means of a contrast. Wherever the clergy are not\nregarded merely as teachers of the people, but as is the case in the\ngreater part of Western and of Eastern Christendom, as priests speaking\nwith a divine authority, this their public vicegerency relates primarily\nand immediately to the _Redeemer_; its judicial functions over the\nconscience ought to shun a visible publicity, and to be left entirely to\nthe conscience and guarded by its seal of secrecy. And in this respect\nlies the distinctive peculiarity of the relation subsisting between the\nsupreme authority in the state and God, which, however, refers\npre-eminently to His attribute of _justice_. And here it is no mere\nremote analogy and weak resemblance, dependent on the principle of human\nweakness and imperfection; but it is a true and real vicegerency,\npublicly admitted and recognized, and exercising consequently a great\npublic influence. And therefore it is, that among the divers elements or\nbranches of the supreme political authority (which, however,\nfundamentally and in its essence is one and indivisible), a special\nsanctity is, as I have already remarked, ascribed to its judicial\nfunctions. In a word, the earthly head of the state is the dispenser of\nthe divine justice, the vicegerent of the Judge of the world; he is a\ndivine functionary, and, so to say, the supreme judge in the world\u2019s\ntribunal. And this is the point of view from which all matters and\nquestions connected with this subject may most fully be answered and\nmost correctly determined. But that this exalted dignity of the earthly\nruler may not be interpreted too literally, I must here observe, that\nthe divine Judge is one who allows mercy to take the place of justice,\nnot merely occasionally, and by way of exception, but always and\ninvariably; so long, at least, as it is in any way possible. And here\ncomes in the application of the principle which we previously\nadvanced:--That God is in nowise absolute, but that on the contrary His\njustice is in every case limited by His love and grace; while the latter\nagain is restricted and modified by His justice, and both, indeed,\nreciprocally by each other. Whoever has formed in his heart the least\nvivid notion of God will not entertain the slightest doubt of this union\nof justice and of mercy in the divine essence.\n\nWhen, however, we speak of kings being the dispensers of divine justice,\nwe mean it in quite a different sense from that in which, during the\ngreat immigration of the northern hordes of Asia, the barbarian\nconqueror proclaimed himself the scourge of God. By assuming this title\nhe merely meant to terrify his adversaries by the thought of having to\nencounter in himself a fearful and destructive power of evil, whom, in\norder to chastise a degenerate world, the Almighty had permitted to do\nas he pleased and to let loose his fury on the nations of the earth. And\nphenomena of this kind are not confined to the period of the great\nmigration; for the true notion of the representation of the divine Judge\nof the world by the supreme power in the state combines together with\nthe sternest severity of justice, which in this respect is both\nwholesome and necessary, the greatest clemency--for where is there, or\ncan there be, a clemency greater than the divine? But most especially\ndoes this idea imply that which is here pre-eminently requisite, and\ninsists with a prominence proportionate to its great importance on the\nstrictest conscientiousness in the discharge of the duties of this\nvicegerency. But the superior excellence of this idea over many other\nexplanations of a similar kind, but laboring under the defect of extreme\nvagueness, consists even in this, that it comprises and inseparably\ncombines those two important conditions, both that the supreme governor\nis responsible to God alone, and, as following therefrom, that he is\nunquestionably responsible to Him, and that it also determines in what\nsense and in what way he is so.\n\nEvery great and remarkable event which marks an epoch in the political\nhistory of nations and the world, may, perhaps, be regarded as a\ndispensation of justice. If, then, such an event, however partial and\nconfined to a single people or empire, or at most extending to an entire\nage, may be looked upon as a sign of judgment already commencing, or at\nleast of a retribution threatening, but mercifully suspended, the same\nmode of consideration may, with as good reason, be applied to every\nresolution of the political world on the grave questions of peace and\nwar: for the power of making war and peace is, at all events, the\npeculiar and characteristic prerogative of the supreme authority in the\nstate. Now, the simplest standard, perhaps, of judging of the justice of\neither is, if we may so speak, to ask, Is the proclamation of war or the\ntreaty of peace so entirely founded on truth, so perfectly correspondent\nto the righteous and judicial character of God, that man need not fear\nto lay them before the Judge of the whole world for His ratification? If\nsuch be the case, then most assuredly are they right and righteous,\nwhatever be their consequences, or whatever be the judgment that men\nmay pass upon them. But, otherwise, if the manifesto of war contain\nnothing but shallow and specious pretexts painfully raked together, or\nof fine-colorable phrases which even the eye of the world can see\nthrough, if a light touch of truth be only thrown over it in the hope of\nconcealing the conqueror\u2019s lust of aggrandizement, or the equally\ndestructive principle of an old national feud or jealousy--if, in the\npacification, under ambiguous terms and cunningly-devised phrases, the\nseeds of a future war be carefully sown, and thus the worst disease of\nthe political world be propagated and multiplied from generation to\ngeneration, then most assuredly the guardian eye of Eternal Justice has\nnot watched over its completion, and bestowed on it His blessing, but\nanother and a very different coadjutor has had his hand in the game--the\nspirit of untruth, viz., and of corruption, of strife and ruin, whom no\nname so exactly describes as that of a \u201cliar from the beginning.\u201d\n\nNow, as not only the annihilation of the race of giants in the universal\ndeluge, with which our sacred history opens, and to which the ancient\ntraditions of almost every people allude, more or less directly, but\nalso the partial overthrow of a single nation, the tragical closing\ncatastrophe of particular ages, is, as it were, a prelude of the final\njudgment of all nations and peoples of the earth at the end of time; so,\non the other hand, the original corruption of the primal lie is\npropagated as an hereditary evil from millennium to millennium, and from\ncentury to century. For even now, may many a fertile spot, the seat of a\nhappy and united community in the midst of prosperous times, and of\npeace unbroken at home or abroad, be considered, if not a garden of\ninnocence, still the blissful dwelling of peace and quiet. But into\nthese happy precincts the evil spirit of untruth and discontent ever and\nanon steals, to repeat over again in the history of the human race the\nsame scene of temptation which marked its commencement. Upward and\ndownward, and in a twofold direction, does the lying spirit of strife\nply his seductive arts. Now, on the one side, he whispers in the ear of\nthe rising generation, \u201cThat is the true knowledge and the real science\nwhich men are most anxious to withhold from you; but seek first of all\nto be free--shake off this unworthy spirit of slavish obedience, then\nshall all that is noble and intellectually great be at once yours. In\nthis way, and thus only, was it attained by the great and good in\nancient times.\u201d But, on the other hand, he directs himself to the\nindividual invested with authority; and if the potentate be unrighteous,\nhis ear is already more than half open--and even if he be upright,\nstill, as a man, he is not always inaccessible to such whisperings.\n\u201cWhy,\u201d he insidiously asks, \u201cdost thou draw back so fearfully before\nthat which the people call their rights? These are nothing but childish\nnotions which the school-boy may do well to declaim about, but\npractically they are worthless and unreal; no one means them\nseriously--the whole world puts no faith in this comedy. Rule your\nsubjects with an iron hand, that is all they know how to respect; nay,\nthey even admire the bold spirit that defies them, and they will\nsuppliantly reverence thy greatness of mind and strength of character\nif, betraying no infirmness of purpose, you boldly and sternly encroach\nupon or disregard all their pretended rights and privileges. If only\nyour sovereignty be solidly established from within, and well rounded\nfrom without, then, besides a great name with posterity, you will also\nsecure to yourself the present enjoyment of very great and solid\nadvantages.\u201d\n\nIn this wise, from the original source of the one lie, is the\ninheritance of the old evil transmitted from generation to generation in\nthe political world, in the two opposite forms of popular anarchy, and\nthe despotic lust of power and aggrandizement. These two forms of evil\nare more closely allied than at the first look they appear to be in\nreality; but history, the great teacher of truth, gives its sure witness\nto their affinity. Nothing is more common in great republics, than for\nthe discord of the citizens to be put an end to by some victorious\ngeneral, whom all parties, weary of their dissensions, hail as the\nbenefactor of the whole community. But how seldom is the pacificator\ncontent with the glorious title of the restorer of domestic peace, and\ndoes not go a step farther, and become the scheming tyrant and the\naggressive conqueror. The whole history of the world is, in short,\nlittle more than the continuous struggle between the purifying fire of\nthe divine retribution and this spirit of political lying, which is ever\nrenewing itself in these twofold forms of anarchy and despotism.\n\nMoreover, while we acknowledge the divine authority invested in the\nsupreme ruler of the state, we must take heed how we mix up with our\nconceptions on this head the notion, so highly dangerous and so pregnant\nwith fatal errors, of the absolute and unconditional, which, as we have\nalready remarked, can not be applied even to the Godhead without giving\nrise to misconceptions. If, therefore, in any country a party--for\nnow-a-days even justice is made a party matter--if any where a party of\notherwise well-disposed men call themselves \u201cabsolutists,\u201d such a\ndesignation is of itself sufficient to excite our apprehension, lest,\nwith so absolute a way of thinking, some spark of evil be slumbering\nbeneath the ashes; inasmuch as one absolute, _i.e._, one unconditional\nelement of destruction invariably calls forth another.\n\nAbsolute, if this pernicious term must be used, the supreme power of the\nlegitimate sovereign of a state may indeed be called in so far as he is\nresponsible to God alone. For were the supreme ruler responsible to man,\nthen the only difference would be, that instead of one, the many to whom\nhe is answerable would be absolute. But in another sense, it is\nimpossible to call the supreme power, wherever lodged, absolute or\nunlimited; for it is limited in many ways. Its exercise is checked and\ncontrolled by the treaties subsisting between it and other powers--by\nthe laws which it finds in existence from the times of his predecessors,\nand which are still in force by the family laws of succession, and all\nmatters pertaining to or connected therewith. If he who is invested with\nthe highest power in the state, is determined to interfere with all\nthese institutions, and violently to subvert existing customs and\ncompacts, then is there, in such a case, no one really justified or\nentitled either to make objections to his measures or to oppose them. By\nsuch arbitrary and violent proceedings, however, he is himself\nundermining the very foundation of his own power. And a regard to and\nconsideration of the possible consequences of such injustice will in\nmost instances furnish the necessary and salutary check. Lastly, if we\nlook a moment from the right itself to its actual exercise and\ninfluence, how often and how greatly are the latter limited by adverse\ncircumstances and evil times. Nothing, in short, is more at issue with\nand opposed to nature and to life, than the very notion of unlimited\npower, and generally all that is absolute or destructive.\n\nBut there is yet another side on which the supreme political power is\nessentially checked and controlled. It is bound to consider and pay\nrespect to the principles of religious society, which rests no less than\nitself on a divine authority. For the church, although very different in\nits nature, and flowing from a wholly different origin from that of the\nstate, is, nevertheless, equally inviolable. If, however, the civil and\npolitical ruler, not content with a co-ordinate jurisdiction and the\nrevision of ecclesiastical affairs--with a joint authority and\ninfluence, should attempt to make the religious polity also entirely\nsubject to his own arbitrary will, no one perhaps will be able to oppose\nforce to force, and probably no one would be justified in so doing. But\nby such an attempt, as indeed by every act of religious oppression, the\nsupreme civil power would most fatally undermine the very basis of its\nown authority. If, for instance, the ruler of a great nation places the\nthird estate in the painful alternative of making, what in any case must\nbe most pernicious, a choice between divine and human authority--or,\nrather, to speak more correctly, between two claims to its allegiance\nequally divine, he does but smooth the road which must lead at last to\nhis own ruin.\n\nAnd here, too, in the spiritual community of the faith, in the same way\nas in the political body, man\u2019s patrimony of original evil branches out\ninto two directions. In the one it turns longingly back toward the past,\nand in the other it tends restlessly forward into the indefinite future.\nBoth of these aberrations are wholly independent of the outer form as\nwell as of the subject-matter of belief. They are consequently to be\nfound in the old covenant, as the first grade of divine revelation, no\nless than in the second. The first of these hereditary faults of man\u2019s\nnature is deadness, or, in a somewhat different phase,\nlukewarmness--manifesting itself outwardly in a close and literal\nadherence to the old in its mere external forms. In a word, it is\nspiritual death. For though in the abundance of His love, God may have\nmade a revelation of His will to man, and even died to make an atonement\nfor him, still it is left to the free will of the individual to receive\nit or not; and its retention and observance is the trial of his\ngoodness, and, consequently, in this point, as in others, his hereditary\nand inborn spiritual death strongly manifests itself. The second of\nthese hereditary faults, or, rather, the same in a different form, is\nthe spirit of innovation, or a false semblance of life, by which, in\nfact, this inner death is merely propagated.\n\nOn both these faults and erroneous ways of thinking on religious\nmatters, Revelation expresses itself equally in the tone of stern\nreprobation, though perhaps its language with regard to the former is\neven still more severe. As regards the spirit of innovation, all\nchanges in this domain, which are merely human, and not visibly and\nmanifestly of a divine spirit and origin, must simply on that account be\nopposed and condemned. Now, in both the parties into which the faith is\nunhappily divided, there are many who are captivated and led away by\nthis spirit of change. For among those who were originally seduced by it\nnot a few are now animated with a sincere and profound respect for\nwhatever is old and sterling, while of the innovation-mongers of our\ndays, many are to be found in the ranks of those who originally strove\nto stem the tide of alteration and change. Oh that all who are pervaded\nby this evil spirit, and are ever casting their views forward into the\nfuture, would only advance a little farther still in their thoughts, so\nas to take in the end and conclusion of all. In the knowledge of the\nfinal judgment of the world (and what is this philosophy of revelation\nbut such a reminiscence of death and the end--in which light philosophy\nwas even in olden times explained--not, indeed, in a narrow-minded\nlimitation to ourselves, but in a far wider sense, embracing in its\nuniversal sympathy the final catastrophe of the whole human race), in\nthe warnings and allusions to this last day of account, so long and so\noften given, men will find all the information that they seek, and will\nno longer need any human innovations, since by this key all that is old\nand eternal shall receive a trebly-exalted significance and a doubly-new\nlife.\n\nBut besides the political body and the religious community, the world of\nletters forms a third society. Though numerically smaller, yet in its\neffects on the minds of men, whether it moves freely and diffuses itself\nwithout the rigid restraints of form, or is narrowly confined to the\nformalism of the school, it is, perhaps, as great as either. Spiritual\nin its matter and in its dissemination, it either renounces a divine\nsanction, and stands under the protection and supervision of the\nstate--such, at least, is the predominant relation in recent times--or,\nas was formerly the case, it grows and flourishes beneath the shelter\nand through the fostering care of ecclesiastical institutions. Holding\nan intermediate place between the two other bodies of human society--in\nits subject-matter more akin to the one, but deriving from the other its\nexternal support--it is also of a mixed nature and partakes of both. But\nthe inborn and original sin of science is exactly similar to that which\ninfects political life. Manifesting itself in a twofold aberration, it\neither assumes, in the spirit of anarchy, an hostile position toward all\nthat exists from without, or is given to men from above, or, perhaps,\ncomes forward in a predominant love of system or scientific\nsectarianism, which not unfrequently is as fanatical as the political\nparty-spirit with which, moreover, it is often very nearly and closely\nallied.\n\nThe nature of the divine order which rules the history of the world, and\nits stern, retributive law, must, in all essential points, be now\napparent from the preceding remarks. It is an all-pervading alternation\nbetween the purifying fire of God\u2019s punitive justice and the inheritance\nof the old evil, which breaks out, now in anarchy, now in despotism--at\none time in spiritual deadness and lukewarmness of faith--at another in\nthe pernicious lust of innovation and change. This purifying fire, it\nmust also be clear, while, confining its immediate operation to single\nnations or to marked and distinct epochs of history, it gives them a new\nshape and form, invariably gains for itself a wider extension, so as, at\nlast, to embrace the whole world. Moreover, every one must feel that, in\ninvestigating the fiery track of this judging spirit in its stern course\nthrough centuries, we must reverently follow at a respectful distance to\nlearn from it what it is and how it manifests itself, and take good heed\nhow we presume to confine it within any narrow law, or reduce it to any\nprecise and rigorous definition. We can not be too carefully on our\nguard against ascribing to Providence in its guidance of mankind many\nand subtile designs, which, after all, perhaps, are nothing but the mere\nfancies and conceits of man. In general, however, it may safely be said\nthat the subordinate views and higher ends which are visible in the\nleading catastrophes of nations and empires, or even of entire ages,\nhave especial reference to that gradation in the divine revelation which\nI explained to you in the previous Lecture as having a regard to, and\ncomprising the whole human race in, its comprehensive design. By way of\nexemplification, and as an instance of the right application of the\nideas here advanced, I will now, in conclusion, add a few words on those\nevents and catastrophes of universal history, which, in this respect,\nseem the most important.\n\nThe universal deluge, of which the whole surface of our globe presents\nso many and so great traces and proofs, forms a partition-wall, sternly\nseparating the earliest races of men from the subsequent generations. Of\nthe former it is only probable that they were very different from the\nlatter, not only in their manner of life, but also in their physical and\nintellectual powers and endowments, and likewise, perhaps, in the nature\nand mode of their moral corruption and depravity. My remarks, therefore,\nmay well be confined to this side of that great partition-wall. The next\ngreat catastrophe, which is both expressly given out as a divine\nretribution (and, as such, can be proved from profane history as much,\nthough not so universally, as the former), is the so-called Babylonian\nconfusion of tongues and the dispersion of nations. This, and that which\nis so inseparably connected with it, the confusion of mythical ideas and\nlegends, is rather hinted at than fully and clearly detailed. The time,\ntoo, is not given, though the locality is expressly mentioned. It is the\nsame one which, according to all other historical statements, was the\nvery spot of Western Central Asia, where that contagious malady of the\nlust of conquest first arose, or, if we may be allowed the expression,\nwhere this unhappy _invention_ was first made. This dispersion of\nnations, however, was its natural punishment, since every unity which is\neither politically false or intellectually untrue, must terminate in\nchaotic dissolution. This historical fact is distinctly traceable in the\nworld of the ancients among the West Asiatic, South European, and North\nAfrican nations which dwell around the shores of the Mediterranean. Here\nwe can scarcely find our way out of the labyrinth of traces of\nreciprocal relationship which abound, in their medley of cognate\nlanguages and their chaos of legends, so remarkably agreeing, and yet\nfrequently so inconsistent in their ideas of nature, their far-reaching\ntheogonies, and the divine origination of their heroic families. These\nchaotic contradictions, however, in which the poetry of heathendom\nindulged without restraint, gradually undermined the old popular belief,\nand led, consequently, at a later period, to a very favorable result.\n\nFor by this means the Greeks--to whom our present remarks apply\nespecially and pre-eminently--gained free space for the unshackled\ndevelopment of a philosophy which, though it may have run and wandered\nthrough many systems of error, yet in so far as it was an honest and\nsincere search after truth and certainty, served and deserves to be\nconsidered as a preparation and introduction to a higher knowledge and\nthe adoption of revelation. For because of this intellectual development\n(and the fact serves to prove that a pure sensibility to the beautiful,\nand a clear and pregnant thought on human life and on nature, is ever\nhighly pleasing to God), the Greeks were chosen as the second people of\nthe world, to be the medium and the instruments of the further diffusion\nof revelation in the course of the development of humanity.\n\nIn political life, the erroneous tendency of the Greek mind was to the\nabuse of liberty and to anarchy. When this evil had been carried to its\nwildest extreme, it was overtaken by its natural penalty (which inwardly\nfollows close upon its track), in the armed supremacy of Macedon (which,\nhowever, was only a brief paroxysm), and the final subjugation of Greece\nto the Roman yoke. Among the Romans both forms of political evil met\ntogether, and were closely connected with each other. To escape from\ndomestic anarchy, they entered on a victorious career of foreign\nconquest and aggrandizement; and when intestine dissension had reached\nits greatest height, a perfect despotism was established, both at home\nand in the provinces.\n\nWe recently remarked that the whole of that mixture of ideas, confusion\nof legends and traditions, and that continual alternation between\nanarchy and despotism, which in the olden times of heathendom ran\nthrough its whole course of development, from the first dispersion of\nnations to the establishment of the Roman empire over the world,\nimmediately applies to and is only to be understood of the West Asiatic\nand South European races. In the East of Asia, two great nations or\nempires, which together make up a third, if not the half, nearly, of the\npopulation of the whole earth, have remained in a great measure free\nfrom and uninfluenced by it. It would almost seem as if the Almighty,\nwith some special design, had kept and reserved them unto these last\ntimes. For three if not four thousand years India has preserved\nunchanged its institution of castes, and all its essential customs and\nlaws. The very fact that this ancient empire, so extensive, so abundant\nin riches, and so singular in its nature, and with a civilized\npopulation equal to that of the whole of Europe put together, should be\nnow conquered and held in subjection by the sea-ruling isles of Britain,\nwhich the ancients named the Cassiterides, or Tin Islands, and described\nas the ultimate limits of the habitable world, is one of the most\nremarkable signs of our days. That in such great historical events, and\nsuch singular juxtapositions, there rules some grand and mysterious\ndesign of the Mind which regulates the course of human affairs, we can\nnot but feel; only we shall greatly err if we precipitately determine\nits particular nature. The wiser and the safer course is to look forward\nwith attentive expectation to its further development. Already has this\nremarkable approximation of the extreme East and West led to important\nconsequences. The enlargement of our historical information, by the\nsources discovered in the East, has alone been so considerable as to\ngive greater coherence and consistency to our knowledge of the earlier,\nand, indeed, of the very earliest times, and of the origin of mankind,\nand to have afforded a growing testimony and a strong confirmation of\nthe truth of the sacred narrative.\n\nThe Celestial Empire too, with its monosyllabic language, remained until\nvery recently within its walls separate from and never mixing with the\nrest of the world. Although China has been several times subjugated by\nnorthern conquerors, it has, nevertheless, continued in all essential\nrespects the same. But now, in these modern times of universal ferment\nand of change throughout the political world, China, too, has been set\nin movement, and has become so far a conquering power, that she who in\nthe earlier centuries of Christianity was only known by name, through\nfable, has become the immediate neighbor of two great European powers.\n\nThe close of the ancient history of the Eastern world, in its westerly\nregions, is formed by the tragic overthrow of the Jewish people and the\nfearful destruction of Jerusalem; events which are properly described,\nas also they were long previously announced, as a partial judgment on an\nindividual nation. And in this light and in similar colors they are,\nmoreover, depicted even by heathen writers. Few things in the whole\ncourse of history furnish so singular and striking a phenomenon as this\ntotal dissolution of the Jewish nation. The dispersion over all parts of\nthe earth, for so many centuries, of a people that has exercised so\ngreat and so decisive an influence on the progress of ideas and the\nhigher cultivation of the human mind, both naturally and scientifically,\nmakes a sad and melancholy impression on our minds. With so much the\nmore of reason, then, may we regard it as a sign of the times, and one,\ntoo, full of good promise and of bright and cheerful hope, if this long\nand cruelly-oppressed people seems suddenly to be aroused again or\nawakened from its degradation, and in manifold ways evincing an\nintellectual, moral, and social activity, begins to partake of a more\nliberal development and culture. And on one account the fact appears\nstill more consolatory. Such a reawakening of this long ill-treated and\ndegraded race is, in their oldest prophecies, fixed for the last\ndecisive days of the world\u2019s history.\n\nIn the medieval period of modern history we meet with all the elements\nof the Christian state. The idea of a pure monarchy also was here\ncarried far higher toward perfection, and much more manifoldly developed\nthan in heathen antiquity. But the civil and spiritual powers soon came\ninto collision, and in their mutual conflict were alike guilty of\ndespotic encroachments on each other. In this sad dissension the whole\nstate of things fell more and more into a new kind of anarchy. And in\nthe same way, in our own times, after a great part of the Christian\nworld had, in sentiment at least, reverted to heathenism, then as a\nnatural consequence of the ruling tone of thought and opinion, there was\na great relapse into the double evil of a wild and fatal popular\nanarchy, and of a still more destructive military despotism. And the\nwhole history of the old heathen world is nothing but one continual\nalternation between these two evils.\n\nIn the Christian West, indeed, both now and in the middle ages, the\npredominant tendency to error inclined toward the side of anarchy. Among\nthe Mohammedan nations, on the contrary, from the very earliest days of\ntheir religion, the despotic lust of conquest has been, as it were, an\ninborn and homebred hereditary failing. It was indeed fed and encouraged\nby their national creed. But here also the greatest changes have taken\nplace. The largest and most powerful of all the Mohammedan empires,\nthat, viz., in India, is entirely overthrown, and scarcely a vestige of\nit remains in these times. By a natural revolution of things, the first\nirresistible conquerors are now themselves conquered and brought under\nthe yoke of others. And so, too, on the other and western side of their\nonce wide rule, they who formerly threatened the existence of civilized\nEurope are now dependent upon, essentially mixed up with, and owe their\npolitical existence to, European policy and the balance of power. This\ntotal change of the relative position of the Mohammedan states in\ngeneral belongs undoubtedly to the characteristic signs which so\npeculiarly mark and distinguish our own age.\n\nIn the three centuries of modern history which fill up the interval\nbetween the middle ages and the revolutionary epoch of our own days, the\nmoral constitution of the monarchy has been far more fully and clearly\ndeveloped than in any previous era. But the most striking event of this\nperiod of history is furnished by the sad and melancholy phenomenon of\nthe religious wars. These were the lamentable consequence of the schism\nin the faith, not indeed by any indispensable and necessary law, nor\neven as its natural, but still its perfectly explicable, result. In\nthose lands where, as in England and France, there existed a weaker\nparty of either side, which had either been fully conquered or was kept\nunder by oppressive civil disabilities, this unhappy phenomenon assumed\nthe most revolting appearance. But the same state of things took a very\ndifferent turn in Germany. Here the religious disputes terminated in a\nhigher and a nobler result. In a long and fruitless struggle of thirty\nyears, which wasted and consumed the best energies of the nation, the\ntwo contending parties were taught, that with so nicely-balanced\nstrength, no decisive result either way was to be expected. Coming at\nlength to a wiser mind, they acknowledged their respective rights, and\nby a peaceable compromise they agreed to live together in the same\nsocial community. This great and famous religious peace, which,\nconsidered merely in the light of a treaty of general pacification, is a\nmaster-piece of policy, without equal or parallel, and serving for the\nbasis for all subsequent treaties and questions of peace, is become for\nGermany a species of inborn national necessity, and, as it were, a\nsecond national character. She finds in it a full and perfect\ncompensation for many disadvantages she labors under as compared with\nother lands, while she has acquired from it a great and important\nposition in the world of the future. Considered with regard to the whole\nworld, one can not well avoid ascribing to this indestructible religious\npeace in Germany a still higher importance, however little it is\ncommonly understood or regarded in this light. Indeed, we can not but\nlook upon it as the precursor, with hopeful promises, of a far greater\nand completer religious peace--a peace, I mean, which shall reconcile\nnot only all differences in the faith, but also that more universal and\nmore pervading dissension between faith and unbelief; the quarrel\nbetween science and faith being first adjusted, and unity restored\nthereby between them, and, consequently, also to life. But to effect\nthis object, God, who wills nothing but peace and unity, must take the\nupper hand and be stronger than man, who loves and desires strife, or,\nat least, without loving and seeking it, is still ever relapsing into\nit.\n\nIn such or some similar way a religious view of universal history, and\nof the divine order therein, admits of being developed; which, however,\ncan not be truly done with too much of scientific rigor, or by violently\nintroducing into its plans any arbitrary and, consequently, false\ndesigns and purposes.\n\nMy prescribed limits compel me to confine myself to these few hints, and\nin these I have wished principally to call attention to their reference\nto our own age, and to exhibit them in the light in which they appear of\nuniversal interest and to possess an eminent and remarkable destination.\nComprised, then, in one result, the following are the characteristic\nsigns of the present age: the two greatest heathen nations, which for\nthousands of years stood by themselves apart from the rest of the world,\nhave lately come into the closest contact with Europe--the Mohammedan\nempires are every where falling into decay, more rapidly than men had\nbeen led to expect their fall--the Hebrew race is beginning to rise from\nits long degradation--in Christian states and communities there is here\nand there visible a strong inclination to the old evil of anarchy--and\nif the great human peace, which has now lasted twelve years, appears in\nsome points insecure, or at least endangered from within, it is only\nbecause it is devoid of a firm foundation of the internal sentiment of\nmen. What event, then, could be more happy for our age, what better turn\ncould the present posture of affairs take, than by bringing about such a\ntriple divine peace as we have already sketched, to give a new\nfoundation and a firmer basis to the external peace of society? May not\nthis, in God\u2019s good purpose, be the theme which is to occupy the next\nera of the world?\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE IX.\n\nOF THE TRUE DESTINATION OF PHILOSOPHY, AND OF THE APPARENT SCHISM BUT\nESSENTIAL UNITY BETWEEN A RIGHT FAITH AND HIGHEST CERTAINTY, AS THE\nCENTER OF LIGHT AND LIFE IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS.\n\n\nThe philosophy of life can not be any mere science of reason, and least\nof all an unconditional one. For such does but lead us into a domain of\ndead abstractions alien to life, which, by the dialectical spirit of\ndisputation connatural to the reason, is soon converted into a\nlabyrinthine maze of contradictory opinions and notions, out of which\nthe reason, with all its logical means and appliances, can not extricate\nitself. And life, consequently--the inner spiritual life, that is--is\ndisturbed and destroyed by it. And it is even this disturbing and\ndestroying principle of the dialectical reason that most requires to be\ngot rid of and brought into subjection. In the mere form, however, of\nabstract thought there is nothing in and by itself opposed to the truth.\nThere is nothing in it that it is absolutely and invariably necessary to\navoid, or that never and in no case admits of application. It is, no\ndoubt, most certain that every system of philosophy is on a wrong track\nwhich borrows its method exclusively from mathematics, and copies it\nthroughout from beginning to end. Still, in the progressive development\nof philosophical ideas certain points may occur--there may be certain\nplaces in the entire system--where occasionally and by the way such\nformulas and abstract equations may be profitably employed. Such a case\nmay happen in the present Lecture. But by thus employing them only by\nway of illustration, and episodically in passing, I hope to establish\nsuch a use of them, and to make it evident that the perspicuity of the\nexposition does not essentially suffer thereby.\n\nPhilosophy, as the universal science, embraces in its consideration the\nwhole man. As, therefore, it evidently involves the occasion, so it is\nnot unlikely that cases may occur where it can happily borrow, now from\none now from another of the sciences, its external form and peculiar\nformularies. It can, in short, advantageously avail itself of all in\nturn. Only, such a use, to be profitable, must be free. And this freedom\nwill best evince itself in the deliberate choice and the diversity of\nthe images. The method of free speculation, _i.e._, of philosophy, must\nnot resemble a coat of mail with its infinite number of little uniform\nchains and rings. It ought not, as is the case nearly with the\nmathematical method, to be composed, by mechanical rule and measure, of\nsimple propositions scientifically linked together, and then formed\nagain into higher logical concatenations. In short, the method of\nphilosophy can not properly be uniform. The spirit must not be made\nsubservient to the method; the essence must not be sacrificed to the\nform.\n\nPhilosophical thought and knowledge, with that diversity of illustration\nand variety in method which follows from its universality, is, in this\nrespect, somewhat in the same case with poetry. Of all the imitative\narts poetry alone embraces, and by its nature is intended to embrace,\nthe whole man. It is, therefore, free to borrow its similes or colors,\nand manifold figurative expressions, from every sphere of life and\nnature, and to take them now from this, now from that object, as on each\noccasion appears most striking and appropriate. Now, no one would think\nof prescribing unconditionally to poetry, and compelling her to take all\nher similes and figures either from flowers and plants, or from the\nanimal world, or exclusively from any one of the several pursuits of\nman--from the sailor\u2019s life, for instance, or the shepherd\u2019s, or the\nhuntsman\u2019s--or from any of his handicrafts or mechanical arts. For\nalthough all such similes, and colors, and expressions, appropriately,\nintroduced, are equally allowable in every poetical composition, and\nnone of them need be rejected, still the exclusive use of any one class\nof them as a law would hamper the free poetic spirit and extinguish the\nliving fancy. In the same way, philosophy is not confined to any one\ninvariable and immutable form. At one time it may come forward in the\nguise of a moral, legislative, or a judicial discussion; at another, as\na description of natural history. Or, perhaps, it may assume the method\nof an historical and genealogical development and derivation of ideas as\nbest fitted to exhibit the thoughts which it aims at illustrating in\ntheir mutual coherence and connection. On other occasions, perhaps, it\nwill take the shape of a scientific investigation of nature--of an\nexperiment in a higher physiology--in order to test the existence of\nthe invisible powers which it is its purpose to establish. Or again, by\nthe employment of an algebraic equation, or of a mathematical form\n(which, however, it regards as nothing more than a symbol and visible\nhieroglyphic for a higher something that is invisible), it will,\nperhaps, most conveniently attain to its loftier aim. Every method and\nevery scientific form is good; or, at least, when rightly employed, is\ngood. But no one ought to be exclusive. No one must be carried out with\npainful uniformity, and with wearying monotony be invariably followed\nthroughout.\n\nThe philosophy of life, then, can not be any mere absolute philosophy of\nreason. And as little can, or ought it to be purely and absolutely a\nphilosophy of nature; not, at least, an exclusive one, that is, exactly\nsuch and nothing more. Such a philosophy of nature may, indeed, in its\nphysiological aspect, possess unequaled scientific wealth, and be full\nof profound and ingenious thoughts. But still the right principles and\nthe regulative ideas of human life can never be deduced from it easily,\nand without having recourse to forced constructions. For even man is, in\nhis life, something higher than nature; even he is something more than a\nmere physical being. Still less possible, then, were it, from such a\nphilosophy of nature, to derive, establish, and to render clear and\nintelligible the idea and being of God--the pervading reference to whom,\nhowever, makes man what he is. The idea of God deduced from such a\nsource alone would, and indeed could only be, some great final cause of\nthe system of nature.\n\nNeither the conclusions of sound reason, and least of all those of the\nconscience--no, nor even dialectic itself (so far as it is profitably\nemployed, by the knowledge of it being made available for the detection\nof error), nor physical science, when cultivated in a noble and lofty\nspirit, ought in any way to be excluded from the borders, or even the\nvery domain of philosophy. On the contrary, she may, in her own peculiar\nway, adopt them all, and, giving them a more extensive sense and spirit,\nemploy them for her own higher aims. In its primary and most essential\nrespects, the philosophy of life is a thoroughly human science. It is\nnothing less than the cognition of man. Now, even on this account, and\nbecause it is only by means of his all-pervading relation to God that\nman stands above nature and is something superior to a mere physical\nbeing, and something higher, too, than a mere rational machine,\ntherefore is the philosophy of life actually and in fact a true\nphilosophy of God. The philosophy of life attains this high dignity\nbeyond a mere philosophy of reason, or of nature, simply on this\naccount--that the supreme life and the ultimate source of all other\ndegrees of life is even God. Now this Supreme Life, which has its life\nin itself, is the subject of my present disquisitions. For it is even\nwith the correct and complete notion of this Supreme Life that the\nSpirit of Truth first enters the human consciousness; and then, in the\ninner world of man, which before was \u201cwithout form and void,\u201d that light\nbegins to shine which never shall become darkness, and of which even\nthis Spirit of Truth has said \u201cthat it was good.\u201d This divine but\ninitiatory illumination is the first step in that progressive\ndevelopment of the internal light and truth in human life and\nconsciousness, and which, as starting from this point and passing\nthrough its successive stages of advancement, it will be our object to\ntrace in the last seven of the present Lectures. In the eight preceding\ndisquisitions I have endeavored, by advancing step by step, to arrive at\nthis last end of all. We have now reached the culminating point; and the\nSupreme Life, which, according to what has been already said, is the\nprimary source of all other life, and which has life in itself, is now,\ntogether with the full and true notion of this life, to occupy our\ncommon consideration. And then again, descending from this summit of\nlight and truth--for which, in the mean time, I entreat your entire and\nclosest attention--I propose, with hasty step, to retrace our way\nthrough all the grades of man\u2019s spiritual enlightenment, to carry back\nyour regards and mine into all the several spheres of life and\nconsciousness.\n\nBut now, it has been said that the philosophy of life, in every case and\ninstance, invariably ascends to the highest object of every sphere that\nit contemplates, and that that supreme object is God. From this,\nfurther, it has been argued that it is even and truly a philosophy of\nGod. How, then, does it differ from theology?\n\nAt the very commencement of these Lectures I confessed that philosophy\nin general, and especially a philosophy of life, by reason of the common\nobject which they both treat of, could not avoid coming into frequent\nand close contact with theology. But, at the same time, I asserted that\nthe former, in its whole essence, is completely and materially\ndifferent from the latter, and requires to be carefully restricted\nwithin its own limits. We must take heed lest it either violently\nencroach upon the proper domain of theology, or, on the other hand,\nbecome its servile handmaid at the sacrifice of its own peculiar\ncharacter and destination. The true relation of these two kindred\nsciences, as occupied with a common subject, which is often entirely\nidentical, and their, nevertheless, so strongly-marked and distinct\nlimits, may perhaps be most clearly illustrated by a comparison with the\nmathematical sciences.\n\nDogmatic theology, or the science of positive belief, resembles pure\nmathematics. Its ideas and formularies can not be too strictly, or too\nsimply, defined; nor, where it admits of demonstration, can its proofs\nbe carried out with too rigorous and mathematical a precision. For in\nthese matters it is impossible to give the least room or influence to\nindividual caprice without hazarding the loss of all that is most\nessential in the positive articles of faith. Philosophy, on the other\nhand, in treating of such subjects--or, at least, that part of it which\nis occupied with these matters--resembles rather mixed geometry in its\nseveral applications, such as practical mensuration, or the science of\nfortification and the art of war. For philosophy is, if we may so speak,\nan applied theology. Adopting the universal ideas of the one living God\nand his overruling Providence, and, what is so closely connected\ntherewith, of the soul\u2019s immortality and man\u2019s free will, it adapts\nthem, in many valuable practical applications, to the whole and almost\nboundless field of historical knowledge and the development of the human\nrace, as well as to all physical and experimental sciences, and even to\nthe wide domain of scientific disputes and merely human opinion, with\nits several conflicting systems. In this course of practical application\nphilosophy needs not, in its expressions and formularies, scrupulously\nto confine itself to the terminology of its sister science, or to repeat\nits words with a careful exactness. On the contrary, its best and wisest\ncourse is to move with freedom, changing and varying its expressions at\npleasure. For inasmuch as it is not itself so rigorously tied up as\ntheology is to authority, so it can not appeal to it with equal justice\nin order to enforce assent to its own teaching. In the same way, too,\nthat in algebraic equations a mere hypothetical calculation is\noftentimes introduced, which, moreover, afterward suggests many a\nvaluable practical application, so, also, a similar hypothetical use of\nthe theological magnitudes or axioms, if we may so speak, is quite open\nand allowable to philosophy in the pursuit of its merely scientific\nends. It is only the most general articles of the faith that philosophy\nmakes use of. At least, the minuter and sharply-defined determinations\nof a positive creed are not immediately and indispensably necessary for\nits object. Now, an overruling Providence, the soul\u2019s immortality, and\nthe freedom of the will, are articles of universal belief, which,\nalthough, perhaps, not couched in express words and definite notions,\nyet still as germs and vague feelings exist, however deeply they may\nslumber, in every human breast that is as yet pure and uncontaminated by\nthat captious skepticism which frets and corrodes itself with its\nseeming perplexities. These, philosophy may safely take for granted.\nNay, it is its duty so to do; and where it does so in the right way,\nthen will it never, on that account, meet with any considerable obstacle\nor opposition. On the contrary, by pursuing this course it will the more\nsurely arouse and awaken these universal feelings from their slumber in\nthe human mind, and gradually shape and convert them into fixed and\nstable points from which to carry on the further progress and\ndevelopment of the principle of faith.\n\nAnd it is even herein that philosophy will most display its art, or,\nrather, its intellectual power over the minds of men. It is in this,\npre-eminently, that lies its vocation. But if, on the contrary, it makes\nthis mission to consist rather in demonstrating, in a strictly\nscientific form, the existence of a Deity, with its natural train of\nthose eternal verities--the immortality of the soul, and the freedom of\nthe will, then at the very first outset it will lose sight of its true\naim, and set up a false one. For, were such a demonstration possible,\nstill nothing essential would be gained by its actual attainment. For,\nin such a case, the existence of God, and God himself, would naturally\nbecome dependent, in thought at least, on that from and by means of\nwhich the proof was established, and would, consequently, appear to us\nno longer as the first cause of all, but, rather, a secondary and\nderivative being. In such the primal essence would be made to depend on\nour human knowledge and science of reasoning, so to speak; the latter\nmust, in the plenitude of its power, first confer upon and guaranty to\nthe former its existence. This would, indeed, be a complete inversion of\nthe true and natural order of things, such as, alas, has but too often\noccurred and manifested itself in actual experience.\n\nThese remarks, however, must be understood as applying to a strict\ndemonstration of this great verity, or at least to all attempts of the\nkind. To point to this truth, to trace every indication of it, to\nelucidate it, to confirm it by analogy or other corroborative evidences,\nis quite a different matter. All this is perfectly allowable. But God\ndoes not allow his existence to be proved. By force of reasoning such a\nbelief is not to be impressed on the mind of that man who is unwilling\nspontaneously to admit it. As life generally, so also this supreme life\nmust be learned and concluded from every man\u2019s own experience; it must\nbe adopted with the vividness of a feeling.\n\nLet us now, for a moment, revert to the old scholastic forms and the\ndesignations usually given in the schools to the several philosophical\nsciences, and compare with them the division on which our present\ndisquisitions are based. We might, in this respect, say that the first\nfive sections of our treatise have been exclusively devoted to\npsychology; though not indeed in the ordinary narrow sense of the word,\nbut in one far more extensive, and embracing the whole universe.\nAccording to this wider extent and signification of psychology, we have\nconsidered the soul relatively, first of all, to the whole of philosophy\nand its several systems; secondly, to moral life; and, lastly, to\nrevelation, to nature, and to God Himself. The three following Lectures\nwere devoted to an examination of the divine order of things in the\nseveral spheres of existence, and to the indications of a ruling\nProvidence discoverable therein. They constitute, therefore, a species\nof theology; but one, however, empirically conceived and historically\nworked out from observations in nature and in history, not only in the\nannals of the external world, but also in the spiritual history of the\nprogressive terms in the development of truth. Such a theological essay\nexactly corresponds to that notion we so lately advanced, of an applied\nor mixed science of theology as the peculiar sphere for this part or\nbranch of philosophy which concerns itself with the doctrine of the\nsupreme essence, and the right understanding thereof.\n\nNow if, in compliance with olden forms of division and a scholastic\nphraseology, it be necessary to deliver a scheme of ontology as the\nphilosophical science and cognition of really existent things, and also\nof their true and real essence, it is clear that such is only\nconceivable and possible by means of such an applied theology. For how\ncan things be truly real, and how can they as such be known in their\ninmost essence, except so far as they have their existence and\ndetermination in God, and, in this respect, admit of being known by us?\n\nIn any case, however, the name of _natural_ theology, which ever and\nanon we still hear applied to the philosophical cognition of the Divine\nBeing and His existence, ought carefully to be avoided. Such a\ndesignation is based on a thorough misconception and total inversion of\nideas. Every system of theology that is not supernatural, or at least\nthat does not profess to be so, but pretends to understand naturally the\nidea of God, and regards the knowledge of the divine essence as a branch\nof natural science, or derives the idea simply from nature, is even on\nthat account false. Missing and entirely mistaking its proper object, it\nmust, in short, prove absolutely null and void. Properly, indeed, this\ninquiry needs no peculiar word nor special division and scientific\ndesignation. The name generally of philosophy, or specially of a\nphilosophy of God, is perfectly sufficient to designate the\ninvestigation into science and faith, and their reciprocal\nrelation--their abiding discord, or its harmonious reconciliation and\nintrinsic concord. And this is properly the point which is here in\nquestion; it forms the essential part of the topic which we have at\npresent to examine.\n\nThe internal schism in the faith itself I formerly excluded from our\ninquiry, as not lying properly within the limits of philosophy, and\nbelonging to a higher tribunal. I at the same time expressed my\nconviction that God alone could universally and totally reconcile it. By\nthis, however, I would not by any means wish to be understood as\nasserting that works on this subject, written with a thorough knowledge\nof historical facts, and in a luminous and instructive style, can not\ncontribute much to the refutation of error. Works of this nature may, in\ntheir degree, tend to bring about a mutual approximation of sentiment.\nFor they serve to elucidate and clear up points which, even though they\ndo not involve the essential articles of positive belief; do,\nnevertheless, greatly and extensively co-operate in keeping alive a\nmutual spiritual alienation and estrangement of mind. The great merit of\ntreatises of this kind, when composed with high intellectual powers and\nin that noble spirit which is at once just and desirous of peace, must\nnot in any case be denied or depreciated. Nevertheless, it is idle to\npretend that the influence of such essays, whether greater or less, is\nnot confined to a limited sphere, extending to a few individuals, or at\nmost to classes.\n\nTo judge by the usual course of the divine order in the realm of truth,\na total conversion of the whole mind of the age, or a reawakening of\nentire nations, is only to be expected from a higher and universal\nimpulse imparted from above. As a preparation, however, for that divine\npeace in a universal unity of faith, which so repeatedly and so many\nways is promised most distinctly even to this life, nothing can be so\neffective as to remove, if possible, or at least to reconcile, that\ntriple discord already described as dividing and distracting the inner\nman. And this is a matter which, as lying within the sphere of human\nconsciousness and science, unquestionably belongs to the domain of\nphilosophical investigation. And it is even the duty of philosophy,\nwhenever it follows its prevailing mediatory and atoning tendency, to\nattempt scientifically to bring about the reconciliation of that strife,\nand, undiscouraged by repeated failures, still to labor to re-establish\nthe perfect and profound harmony of consciousness and of life.\n\nNow the first dissension, that, viz., between science and faith, whether\nactual or apparent, requires for its removal before all things a mutual\nunderstanding and compromise. The second dissension between faith in\ngeneral, even a mere philosophical and natural faith, and that unbelief\nwhich is so general and prevalent in our age, can only end with the\nperfect triumph of the truth. For only by the full light of divine\nknowledge and truth--by the triumphant exposition of this true light,\nand by the magic power of such a display on the minds of men--shall\ndoubt and infidelity be fully eradicated and destroyed. The third\ndissension, between both faith and science on the one hand, and life on\nthe other, needs, for the removal of all misunderstanding, something\nmore than a mere peace and compromise on the disputed points. For this\npurpose there is required a thorough union of both carried out into\nfruitful and practical application, by which the living faith and the\nliving science may evince themselves as such, and manifest their true\nand wholesome influence on life, however at present estranged from and\nadverse to it.\n\nThe second and the third of these dissensions are reserved for\nconsideration in the two following Lectures; but the first, that, viz.,\nwhich subsists between faith and science, is to form the subject, and\nits reconciliation the problem of our present disquisition.\n\nNow, is this dissension necessarily and really grounded in the thing\nitself, and in the nature of the thing? Or, rather, does the blame of it\nlie with men, and in their defective apprehension and form? I have no\nhesitation in saying that a living faith and a living science will never\nbe at issue together, at least on essential points. In three cases, no\ndoubt, a dissension, a reciprocal misunderstanding, and endless conflict\nbetween both is perfectly conceivable. It is possible, either when the\nfaith is a mere matter of memory and of a few acquired notions, rather\nthan a deeply-rooted conviction of the soul. Or, secondly, since all the\nfaculties of the human mind ought to co-operate in giving a full\ninternal development and an external shape to the truth thus divinely\nimparted, it may spring up even when the soul receives it with a full\nlove, but is nevertheless principally, or at least too much, under the\ndominion of a lively fancy, to the exclusion of a due admixture of\nclearness of understanding, and the circumspection which belongs to the\ndistinguishing judgment. Or, thirdly, it may arise, on the other side,\nwhen a conceited and presumptuous science seeks to establish itself\nrather than truth, and places more dependence on its own conclusions\nthan on its announcements.\n\nWhat, then, is faith, taken in itself, but the reception into the soul\nof the divine and divinely-communicated verities? And what is science,\nmore than the apprehension thereof by the mind [_geist_]? Are there,\nthen, two truths, of which, however, one or the other is not true?\nUndoubtedly there exists, along with the spirit of truth, another\nspirit--that of contradiction and negation. But the latter is no spirit\nof truth, but the spirit of untruth and delusion so often described,\nwhich invariably triumphs whenever the mind of man, in its pursuit of\nknowledge, seeks itself rather than the truth, and consequently finds,\nperceives, and retains nothing but its own Me. And this evil spirit the\nsoul even meets half way whenever it is incapable of embracing and\nretaining the life and the spirit of the holy faith, and when,\nconsequently, these quickly flee away, and nothing but the letter and\nthe empty form remain behind. But where the spirit of truth has once\ndeparted, error in manifold shapes and forms finds, one way or other,\nan entrance into the soul. Is it not one and the same truth which, on\nthe one side, speaking from the one revelation, impresses itself on the\nsoul of man as the commanding voice of love enjoining faith, and which,\non the other, condescendingly offers and presents itself to the mind or\nspirit of the believer as a mystery, in order that he may, if he will,\ninvestigate it in order to discover and adopt the meaning and the light\nthat are veiled and inclosed within it? Is there, then, to be a party\nfeud and a civil war in the heart of man, between soul and spirit, the\ntwo elements of his existence; just as if it were some ill-organized\nstate where, in opposition to the supreme political power, some\ninsubordinate body sets itself up in authority, and presumes to give the\nlaw? Ought, forsooth, the soul in secret to be liberal, and, in\nhalf-unbelief, to grant immunity to all manner of lusts and desires,\nwhile the spirit is legitimist in sentiment and constitutional in\nlanguage? Or ought the soul to be honestly _ultra_ and a thorough\nlegitimist in its established faith, while the mind, on its part, by its\nliberal measures, is perfectly falling into error? So far is this from\nbeing allowable, that even these names and these parties would soon\ncease and disappear altogether, if, instead of party, the knowledge, and\nthe might, and the inspiration of life--the supreme life, _i.e._, or\nGod, were once to take full possession of the minds of men, and so\nanimate them anew and ardently inspire them with the common spirit and\nardor of the one faith and the one science.\n\nNow, the intermediate link which unites science with faith--the mean\nfunction between both which admits of demonstration within the limits of\nthe consciousness and of philosophy, is discernment [_erkennen_]. Of\nthis there are two kinds: the one distinguishes between right and wrong,\nand, consequently, as a separate function, directs itself outwardly in\nits operation, and observes differences. By the other we see and\ncomprehend, or understand and discern, that two objects apparently\ndifferent, are properly and essentially one and the same. It is with\nthis intrinsic and inwardly-directed discernment that we are here\nconcerned. For it is by this highest function of thought, which\npenetrates into the inmost essence of each of two ideas, and by its\nsentence declaring their similarity, that we perceive and discern that\nthis science and that faith are essentially identical. Discerning in\nthis sense is something different from knowing; it is, as it were, a\nsecond knowing; or, if we may be allowed to express ourselves\nmathematically, \u201cknowing raised to a higher power.\u201d It is this that\ndiscovers the essential unity of Science and Faith, and that must bring\nabout the restoration of concord between them, and reconcile them with\neach other. If, however, this second and higher knowing, or this science\nof science, be referred and confined to one\u2019s own Me or Self, as is too\noften done, such a course will only lead us out of the common error of\nthe ordinary self-delusion into one still more profound, which will\nprove the more complex and aggravated, the more scientifically it is\nevolved, and which I have already depicted to you in its true colors.\n\nNow this unity of science with faith can only be found and discovered in\ntheir common object--in truth, consequently, and _i.e._ in God, who is\nthe sum of all truth. Mere negations--like that of the idea of the\ninfinite, or the notion of the immeasurable, which is applicable even to\nnature itself, or that of the absolute or unconditional, of which many\npalpably erroneous applications might easily be made--no such pure\nnegations, nor even any mere enumeration of predicates and properties\ndevoid of intrinsic coherence, can furnish us with an adequate\nconception of the Deity. But now if a cognition, an understanding of\nlife in general, be attainable (and no skeptical perplexities have yet\nbeen able to deter or seduce man\u2019s sound common sense from entertaining\nand acting upon such a supposition), then it is clear that there is no\nreason for holding the notion of the supreme life in and by itself to be\nimpossible or utterly unattainable by man.\n\nNow, this is the path which a profounder science and philosophy has\ninvariably marked out for itself in this respect; and in the three\ndifferent powers, which, however, are at the same time but one, in the\ntrine energy of the one first cause of all, has it ever sought and\ndiscovered this highest notion. In this notion belonging to the supreme\nscience, as advanced by philosophy in very different ages of the world\nand among widely-remote nations, there is a remarkable resemblance,\nalthough in the subordinate statements there is a greater or less\nadmixture of error. In the midst of many subordinate aberrations, it has\nrecognized the one great fact, that in the Supreme Life, who has His\nlife in Himself, and is the prime source of all other life, there is, at\nthe same time, a creative intelligence and thought which from the\nbeginning issued therefrom as the Eternal Word self-subsistent and\nordering all things, and that the Light which proceeded therefrom was\nitself also the first life. But now, just as this original life, which\nwas from the beginning, was not simply Infinite, but even the source of\nall finite and infinite existence, and as this Life is an illumination\nwhich illuminates Itself and all other things, so is this Light also a\nliving entity, and not merely spiritual and immaterial (for as such even\nIt might still be a part of nature), but one thoroughly supernatural and\nholy, and, if man will have it so, an awful light which repels all\ndarkness from itself, and, eternally rejecting, annihilates it.\n\nNow, this Life, this Word, and this Light, these three different powers\nin the same energy and in the one substance, which even, therefore, is\ncalled the Supreme, is at once the highest object of all science, and\nthe center and fundamental source of all faith. And this science of the\nHighest, even when regarded exclusively from this single aspect of\nknowing, does not exhibit itself as entirely separate from, and\nindependent of, faith, but even, as such, is from the very first in\ncontact with it, and, taken simply as knowing, involves in it a\nconcurrence and co-operation of faith.\n\nIn very many and different, not to say infinitely various ways it may be\nshown, pointed out, and established, that without this full and correct\nnotion of the Supreme Being, every other species of existence and of\nknowledge must be without coherence and proper significance. However, as\nhas been so often observed already, there is not involved in it any\nstrict necessity. It does not possess any rigor of logical sequence,\nconstraining the assent of one who in his heart is otherwise disposed,\nand in his sentiments has otherwise determined. For so must it ever be:\nthe final resolve of conviction is left to the free assent, that quiet\ninternal concurrence of the will already mentioned, which in general\nbrings man into actual communion with God, and opens and enlarges his\nsense for the divine--since such assent is itself even that sense, or,\nat least, the principle and commencement of it.\n\nAnd this complement of the highest science, which is furnished by the\nfree internal assent, is even of itself nothing less than an act of\nfaith. Consequently, the complete and correct notion of the Supreme\nEssence is the mystical ring in which science and faith are at the first\nbeginning indissolubly connected. Nothing but the perversity and\nshortsightedness of men in regard both to science and faith, tears them\nasunder again, and, separating what in God is one and what He has joined\ntogether, sets science and faith in hostile opposition, mutually\nobstructing and destroying one another. Moreover, this highest notion of\nthe highest science is the scientific vertex or the scientifically\nculminating expression of man\u2019s universal belief in the one living God.\nFor if this one God is necessarily to be conceived of as endued with\nlife, it will be sufficient for me to appeal to the fact, that physical\nscience knows not, and no one even can conceive or comprehend or think\nof a mode of life in any sphere of existence, without implying a\nplurality, or, at least, a duality of co-operating forces. But if,\nfurther, we are to think of it as a perfect life, then must there be in\nit a third living energy or operation. Thus, therefore, on this side\nalso the highest notion of a science which has attained to its end, and\nto the summit of all existence and all knowledge, is in perfect unison\nwith the universal feeling of truth and the natural and simple faith of\nman.\n\nBut now, if the highest science and a divine faith intrinsically and\nessentially be properly one, it will naturally turn and depend on the\npreservation of the true ratio and correct proportion between the two\npowers and elements of human existence, whether or not in their further\napplication and actual life they are to continue at unity, without\ncoming into hostile collision and discord. The believing soul, like the\nmistress of a family, ought to hold and retain the chief place in the\nhouse; the spirit that knows, or that aims at knowledge, as the master,\nmay pursue out of doors whatever avocations it pleases, only it must be\ncontinually returning to the domestic hearth, and there warm itself at\nthe pure ascending flame of devotion and pious meditation. And if in its\nwanderings it should most love to stray in the rich and blooming garden\nof nature, then of the rare aromatic woods and seeds it there gathers,\nit may throw one or more into the fire, in order to add some sweet,\nethereal incense to its warming and illuminating flames.\n\nOr, leaving figure, to express myself in more precise and exact\nterms--the believing part of the consciousness observing its due\nproportion, ought not to refuse and reject the true and Godlike science\ntogether with that which is Godless, pernicious, and false. So, too, the\ncognitive or scientific portion ought to abstain from all hostile\nattacks on the other domain and on positive faith, which in all\nprobability it has not sufficiently studied, and still less perfectly\nunderstands. And thus, also, when this cognitive part (as it ought, and\nas is essential to its truth and correctness as science) carefully\nwatches itself and rigorously abstains from all arbitrary, presumptuous,\nand egoistic opinions and ideas, suggestions or beginnings of ideas, as\ninvolving the first disposition to false science and every species of\nerror, then there is no need for it to be held in check by the other\npart, nor to be limited by it.\n\nBut in any case we must be ready to admit that the fault lies in man,\nand on no account suppose that the dissension has its ground in the\nthing itself. For the thing here is nothing less than truth itself,\nwhich can not be twofold, since God Himself is this truth and the sum\nthereof. It is therefore important, on the one hand, by means of the old\nspirit, to be ever giving new life and energy to faith, by carrying it\nback continually to its own eternal foundations, in order to avert the\ndanger, which is ever threatening it, of spiritual deadness and of the\nascendency of the letter that killeth. And, on the other hand, we ought\nnever to cease from or to become weary of refining more and more the\nhigher philosophical science from all the egoistic dross of arbitrary\nopinions and fancied apodictic conclusions, laboring the while to\ncomplete it according to the threefold dimensions (to hazard the\nexpression) of this so utterly immeasurable essence of everlasting\ntruth, by keeping incessantly in view the unfathomable depth, the\ninaccessible height, the inexhaustible center of bliss of the one\ninconceivable and ineffable Being. For the fault and the cause of the\ndissension must in no case be ascribed to the thing itself, but\ninvariably either to a dead, imperfectly enlightened, and untelligent\nfaith, on the one hand, or on the other, to the arbitrary assumptions or\none-sided conclusions of a science, which in this respect and degree at\nleast is false and erroneous.\n\nBut inasmuch as the fault and origin of the dissension has partly its\nfoundation in human imperfection and finiteness, we must rest content,\neven if we can not all at once get rid of and remove it. We must be\nsatisfied if in this ceaseless struggle with man\u2019s hereditary and\nconnatural fault of error, the progress though slow is sure. It is\nenough if in this surely advancing progression, each step, however\nshort, brings us nearer to the truth, and to the perfect cognition of\nthe unity of the highest science and divine faith. But this is a point\non which even individuals, with the most perfect honesty of purpose and\na sincere love of truth, too often go wrong. Unable, perhaps, to\nreconcile to their own minds some conflicting claim of science and of\nfaith, and to see their way clear out of their perplexities, then to cut\nthe knot of the problem to which they despair of soon finding a\nsatisfactory solution, they precipitately adopt some partial and\noverhasty conclusion. But slow, extremely slow, is the advance of man\u2019s\nmental enlightenment in the realm of truth. And if the course of\nProvidence, according to the very gradual progression of divine order in\nthis domain, must be counted by millenniums, then in the life of\nindividuals, years and decades must be reckoned as days and hours. Even\nthough some grave doubt, distracting the inmost feelings, but scarcely\ndefinable in express terms--some oppressive problem suggested by the\npeculiar mental temperament of the individual, can not be resolved in\nthree hours, or even three days, still it may perhaps in three years;\nand if three years be too little, then thirty years may probably\nsuffice. While in spite of this inward doubt we follow uninterruptedly\nour vocation in outer life, many a silent change is effected in our\nminds, and so at length with altered views and enlarged experience we\nattain to a calm and clear conviction on the points which at an earlier\nperiod had appeared to us obscure, had held us in suspense, and\noppressed us with perplexing difficulties.\n\nThis is the only road that can be safely trod by those who desire above\nall things to retain a divine faith, but at the same time not to\nrenounce the pursuit of higher science. And is not this the difficult\nposition in the present day of every well-disposed person who is in any\nway connected with science, or whose pursuits in life require him to\noccupy himself with it? But now, in the case of physical science, we are\nall content to observe this law of tardy progress; indeed we think it\nquite natural, and hold it to be the only correct method. And it is only\nby following a similar course in the internal investigations of\nphilosophy that we shall ever arrive at a stable position and the firm\nground of eternal truth. By any other method, we shall most assuredly\nlose ourselves among the ever-shifting systems which change with the\nfashions of the day, or be carried away by the baseless hypotheses of\nthis or that sect or school, which, like the sterile blossoms in the\nspring, fall fruitless to the ground.\n\nIn respect to this tardiness of progress, which most assuredly is at\nleast not inconsistent with true philosophy, I can appeal to my own\ninstance, which in such a case is, I hope, allowable. It is now\nnine-and-thirty years since I first read, with indescribable avidity,\nthe entire works of Plato in the original; and ever since, amid many\nother scientific studies, philosophical research has been my principal\nand favorite avocation. In this pursuit many and various have been the\nsystems of science--of discord and of error--that I have had to wander\nthrough. Satisfied neither with the opinions of others nor with my own\nviews, I felt reluctant to come forward with a system of my own. In the\nmean while my view of philosophy has been in a state of inchoation and\nof tardy but progressive development. Slowly and incompletely, little by\nlittle, incidentally and fragmentarily, at different epochs, has some of\nits principles come to the light, or escaped me in my earlier literary\nworks and compositions--an explanation which I do not consider\nsuperfluous, even for those who are best acquainted with them. But the\nmore I held fast to the two poles of divine faith and of supreme\nscience, which as such is also divine, the firmer footing did I gain in\nthat point and that center in the everlasting Beginning, in which both\nare one and cease to be at issue, but rather intimately cohering, do but\nlend fresh life, strength, and elevation to each other. And now at\nlength I believe I have attained to that point when, fully persuaded\nmyself of this unity of science and faith as grounded in God, I may\nsafely indulge the wish to impart to others this important truth,\npublicly to set it forth, and develop it to the whole world. And it is\nto me no slight cause of congratulation that I am to enter upon this\ntask in the present place and in the present manner.\n\nBesides those points of correlation already pointed out, between the\nhighest science and faith, there is still another way in which the\nformer, in its all-embracing notion of the triple life of the primal\ncause and force, is referred to faith, and even to its positive articles\nand its divine authority. It is obliged to appeal to this, in order to\nfind and maintain its guiding rule and correct standard for the further\napplication and development of this highest and fundamental notion, and\nto keep it dear of all erroneous and extravagant excrescences. The\nnecessity of this will be best and most simply shown by a few historical\ninstances.\n\nWhen we open any of the ancient writings of the Hindoos, whether it be\ntheir scientific systems, their books of laws and customs for practical\nlife, or their merely mythological poems, we find them, in every\ninstance, based on the notion of a divine trinity, and, in some cases,\nasserting it in express words and phrases. But inasmuch as, forgetting\nto maintain the unity together with the trinity, they abandoned the\nsimple truth and made thereout three distinct gods, the metaphysical\ntheory (which otherwise contains so many and distinct traces of ancient\ntruth) and the trinity of the Hindoos has become a pure mythology,\ncomprising as long a genealogy of gods as any other. But the retention,\nhowever, of this fundamental notion, their mythology has acquired a\ntheistic hue and coloring, which forms a strong contrast between it and\nthe better known mythology of Greece, notwithstanding that in other\nrespects, and in its purely poetic portion, it exhibits many and strong\nfeatures of resemblance and affinity. Thus, in this wonderful chaos of\ndistorted truth, of monstrous error, and pure fiction, we meet with ten\nfabulous creations of men, instead of the single true one with which,\nonly within the last three centuries, the Hindoos have formed a more\nthorough and permanently-based acquaintance. Moreover, in life and in\npractice there is exhibited a renunciation of the world, and a\nmortification of the body, which, far surpassing the rigorous\nself-denial of the early Christian solitaries in Egypt, is carried to an\nintensity and an extreme which it is almost incredible that human nature\nshould be capable of. But co-existing with all this, we meet with\nimmoral practices and licentious excesses sanctified by falsehood and\nsuperstition, similar to those we have already become acquainted with in\nthe more sensual heathenism of antiquity, that, I mean, which prevailed\namong the ancient races of this our western portion of the globe. Into\nsuch a frightful abyss of error even the most spiritual system of\nmetaphysics inevitably falls, or at least easily becomes associated with\nfalsehood, whenever it is left entirely to itself, and is devoid of a\ndivine rule for its guidance, and the simple standard of a higher and\nheaven-descended authority.\n\nIn the history, too, of the development of the Grecian mind we discover\na similar doctrine advanced in one of its latest epochs. The\nNeo-Platonists were very well acquainted with this doctrine and idea of\na divine trinity; as, indeed, it may also be traced in the still earlier\nwritings of Plato himself. How far the expressions and formularies\nemployed by the former writers scientifically to convey this idea were\nperfect and correct is a question which does not concern us at present\nto inquire. Moreover, the determination of it would carry us far beyond\nour proper limits, inasmuch as its exact solution would require a nice\nand accurate classification of the several writers and systems which\nbelong to this school. It is, however, sufficient to remark that this\nprofound metaphysical school of the Neo-Platonists, which reckoned among\nits adherents the Emperor Julian, stood in direct and hostile collision\nwith Christianity. To adapt to the purpose of their opposition the old\nGrecian mythology, a faith in which had sensibly declined even among the\nmasses, they attempted to mold it according to their own views and\nnotions, into such a theological shape and direction as would make it\nmore closely resemble the Indian. By this means they believed it\npossible to revive and reanimate the popular faith. But, even if their\nulterior view and their whole object and actuating motive had not taken\na direction so decidedly hostile to the truth, still their enterprise,\neven as such, could not but miscarry. No doubt the mythology of Greece,\nin its earliest times and original shape, did contain, in some of its\nless prominent and more hidden passages, esoterically interpreted, a few\nsymbolical doctrines and somewhat theistic ideas, as many a profound\nexaminer of it, in modern times, has recognized and demonstrated. But,\nnotwithstanding all these traces, which we must regard as the remains of\nan older tradition of the primary knowledge and full revelation\nbelonging to primeval times, still, in subsequent ages, the Grecian\nmythology had, on the whole, assumed exclusively and pre-eminently a\npoetic development and form, which even subordinated to itself that\npolitical tendency which in so many of its details is so strong. It was,\ntherefore, nothing less than an absurd and inconsistent attempt to try,\nso late in the day, to metamorphose this beautiful world of fable into a\nfactitious theory of metaphysics, and a colossal system of mysticism,\nafter the manner and fashion of the Indian. Accordingly, like every\nother attempt that is fundamentally false and directly opposed to the\nspirit of the age, it passed away at last, without leaving a trace of\nits influence.\n\nThis inclination to the poetic aberration of polytheism and a\ndeification of nature, so universally prevalent in the heathen antiquity\nof the West, renders it easily conceivable why, in the first and Jewish\nportion of written revelation, such great stress is laid pre-eminently\nand primarily on the oneness of the living God. All other\nexpressions--such as that of the eternal creative Word, of the\nlife-giving Spirit of God--are, as it were, but allusions full of hidden\nmeaning for the more clear-sighted and profounder inquirers. How\nnumerous, nevertheless, such indications are; how frequent the reference\nto three powers or persons--the time, energy, and property of the one\nSupreme Being--an allusion to which is contained even in the different\nHebrew names of the Godhead, is known and acknowledged, even by those\nwho would, if they could, deny it, both to themselves and others.\n\nThe tradition of the Jews, which, lying without the strictly-defined\nbody of Scripture, yet proceeds concurrently with it, while it possesses\nof itself no authority, is, nevertheless, a very useful though too much\nneglected source of illustration for the sacred volume. Now, in the\nTalmud the doctrine and notion of the divine trinity is expressed quite\nfully and distinctly, and without reserve; although in the mode and\nmanner of conceiving it there is much that is both false and\nobjectionable.\n\nIn that second portion of revelation with which our present era\ncommences, together with the fulfilling and perfection of the object of\nfaith, this supreme science is brought prominently and clearly forward.\nNo doubt a certain caution and degree of reserve on this doctrine of the\nTrinity are distinctly visible in the earliest teaching and statements,\nso long as the preaching of the new faith was confined within the Jewish\nnation, on whose mind the idea of the oneness of God was still deeply\nimprinted, even though, like every other principle of their religion, it\nwas ill understood and had long ceased to be embraced with a living\nenergy, being taken merely in the dead letter. But ere long this thin\nveil was also removed from the All-holy One, and the great mystery of\nfaith set forth as the introduction to the fourth and last Gospel. From\nthe latter I have accordingly borrowed that designation of this great\nmystery which is even the most appropriate to science; of the supreme\nlife which is itself omnipotence, of the eternal word which is\nominisence, and of the uncreated light which is the All-holy.\n\nCertain great thinkers, who, however, in many respects can not be\nclassed among proper Christians, have indeed recognized and acknowledged\nthe profound significance of this opening of the Gospel. Only they\nadopted a spirit of hostile analysis, which, as it attacked so many of\nthe great works of olden time, did not spare even this divine monument.\nThey lost themselves in all sorts of superfluous hypotheses as to the\nsource from which this or that passage was derived, and with what object\nit was introduced. Much simpler were it, without having recourse to any\nsuch artificial explanations, to receive the divine truth in sincerity\nas it is offered to us. If we must ascribe some special design for its\ncomposition, it will be sufficient to suppose, that after the Evangel of\nLife and the new era commencing therewith had been sufficiently set\nforth as history in a triple narrative, it was requisite to add thereto\nthis Evangel of the Beginning--as the Gospel according to the spirit of\nthe highest science, in so far as this is fully identical with the\ndivine faith, and henceforward was always to continue one with it. It\nwas quite in the natural order of things that the word which was uttered\nat the beginning of the material creation, and is the basis of the first\nrevelation, should also at the opening of the second revelation, and the\nspiritual creation of a new era, be repeated (though in a different and\nfar higher sense) for the soul in the realm of truth:--\u201cAnd God said:\nLet there be light, and there was light.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE X.\n\nOF THE TWOFOLD SPIRIT OF TRUTH AND ERROR IN SCIENCE; OF THE CONFLICT OF\nFAITH WITH INFIDELITY.\n\n\nIn the terrestial creation, in the realm of nature, no sooner did the\nbehest go forth, \u201cLet there be light,\u201d than the accomplishment forthwith\nfollowed. Scarcely was this light and life-creating word spoken, than it\nwas succeeded, spontaneously and immediately, without let or hinderance,\nby the second word of the joyful conclusion: \u201cAnd there was light.\u201d\nQuite otherwise, however, is it in the life and in the world of\nfree-created man, in the progression of his intellectual development, in\nthe history of his mind [_geist_], in his now advancing, now\nretrograding thought and knowledge. Here, indeed, the first call to\nlight and divine truth does not pass over even man\u2019s stubborn and\ntaciturn heart altogether unheeded and unanswered, and without eliciting\nsome faint response. But lasting is the struggle between light and\ndarkness, between knowledge and ignorance, between faith and infidelity.\nEver wavering from side to side, and fluctuating from one extreme to\nanother, the victory long remains undecided. And centuries often, nay,\nthousands of years, pass away ere with perfect truth that word of\nfulfillment and completion can be uttered, and we can go on,\nundoubtedly, to say, \u201cAnd there was light.\u201d Even when the true end is\npursued along the direct road, the right track is often lost amid the\nendless strife and controversy of men, while a long train of useless\ndiscussion raises so thick a cloud of dust as shuts it entirely out of\nsight, and so a new route has to be sought and opened from quite an\nopposite quarter.\n\nHow deeply was the Gentile world sunk in wild and cruel superstition,\nwhen the Great Prophetic Spirit and the Disperser of that Egyptian\ndarkness, which hung over it, repeated or wrote down those first words\nof light for the spiritual no less than the material creation! Assuredly\nhe had in view thereby a new genesis for his people--a new life and a\nnew beginning of light. Then followed fifteen centuries of probation.\nAnd what was this long period but one ceaseless though alternating\nstruggle between light and darkness? At the end of it, in spite of its\ngreat and noble gifts and superior knowledge, the whole nation had\nfallen into the lowest depths of luxury and corruption, on the one hand\na prey to the wilder passions, on the other spiritually dead and rotten.\nBut, the shadow of its former self, it dragged on a miserable existence,\noppressed by a foreign yoke and torn by intestine sects and parties. The\none claiming to be the only legal sect (and as concerned the letter of\nthe law, and the outward ritual, it was so in fact), and arrogant and\nobstinate, closely adhering to the dead letter, was widely estranged and\nalienated from the spirit of love and mildness. And thus the very name\nof Pharisee has become odious and hateful, having passed into a proverb\nand a by-word. Wholly mistaking the meaning of the revelation imparted\nto them, they misunderstood the future to which it referred, no less\nthan the immediate fortunes of their nation and their own condition.\nConsequently they went totally wrong in the interpretation of the\nformer, as well as of the problem of the present which was laid before\nthem. For they took it in the narrow and perverted spirit of party. No\ndoubt the Pharisees reckoned among their members many truly pious,\nwell-disposed, and right-thinking individuals--men, who in the beginning\nof the new era of the world, as appeals from the simple history of those\ntimes, acknowledged the truth, and recognized the hand of God pointing\nand leading onward to the future. These men mourned in silence over the\nrevolting pride and stiffneckedness of their cotemporaries. But though\nendued with great learning and talents, and burning zeal for right and\ntruth, they did not venture openly to oppose and to teach differently\nfrom their brethren, even because in reality the law, the dead and\nexternal law, was on their side.\n\nBut the other party was that of the Sadducees. Quite different in\nprinciple, these were the innovators among the Jews. Explaining away the\ntheological creed of their nation, they went so far in this direction as\nto throw into shade, and to question, or, rather, absolutely to deny,\nthe immortality of the soul. In civil matters and questions of law and\npolicy, they were the liberal free-thinkers of their day.\n\nFrom amid these two dark clouds, which, if they shone at all, glimmered\nonly with the deceptive halo of the false light and hue of party, broke\nthe new dawn and sun of Truth--at first unobserved, nor understood by\nany, so thickly had these mists overspread the horizon. But this new\ngenesis, and this full illumination, was no longer destined exclusively\nfor a single people. Accordingly, it gradually spread over the ten or\ntwelve great nations who occupy two parts of the habitable globe, and\nalso possess and govern the greatest portion of the third and the most\nancient. And it is, in short, by means of that intellectual superiority\nand civilization which they owe to this springing of a new era, and this\nfirst light, that the former bear rule in the remotest regions of the\nearth.\n\nSince the dawning of that day-spring eighteen centuries have elapsed,\nand sadly torn and distracted is the present aspect of Christianity. We\nshould, no doubt, give a very distorted picture of the state of\nChristendom were we anxiously to trace its resemblance, through every\nminuter trait and nicer shade, to the old world at its close and at the\nend of those fifteen centuries of Jewish preparation. Such a minute\nparallel would be false, whether we were to compare it to the moral\nstate and character of that nation, mentally blinded and hurrying with\nhasty steps toward its ruin, or even to the old heathen world of Rome,\nalready condemned by anarchy and infidelity. Still it is generally true.\nFor it is undeniable that man is perpetually relapsing into dissension\nand party quarrels, even while the hand which sways the destinies of the\nworld, in ever-recurring epochs of renovation, is continually presenting\nto him anew both truth and life, health and peace. And every one can\nanswer for himself the question whether this new proclamation of light\nand truth, this divine message of peace and salvation, has yet reached\nits full accomplishment. Has the Sun of Righteousness yet penetrated,\nand cast its bright beams on all the relations of life, to the very\ninmost joints of soul and spirit? Can it with perfect truth be said,\nrelatively to the whole human race, \u201cAnd there is light\u201d--that light, at\nleast, which alone is good, even because it shall remain forever? For\nthose meteoric sparks which flash across the universal night and\ndarkness, from the systems of man\u2019s wisdom, which, crossing and\nrecrossing each other\u2019s path, are soon again extinguished forever; or\nthose clouds of public opinion, charged with electric fluid and with\npestilence, which, for the most part, is but the public outburst of some\nparty passion; these emit no lasting, no salutary, and, therefore, no\ntrue light. Dark and gloomy, too, perhaps, in its future prospects,\nappears the long struggle between divine truth and human discord,\nbetween light and darkness, between faith and infidelity. But the more\ndifficult and intricate the problem is which forms the theme of our\npresent disquisition, the more diligently and the more conscientiously\nought we to seek out and dwell upon every bright and quiet spot. For\nsuch alone can cheer us on our way along the rugged path that leads to\nthe blissful goal of internal and spiritual peace, which will\nessentially contribute to give a solid basis to the public and social\ntranquillity, and to insure its permanence.\n\nSlowly and gradually is it that the individual mind, distracted and\nvacillating between God and a divine faith on the one hand, and a\nhigher, or even the highest, science on the other, advances in its\nprogress toward the perfect truth. Arriving, step by step, at fuller and\nbetter convictions, it attains at last to a clear discernment that,\nproperly and fundamentally, these two apparently-conflicting objects are\nnot distinct, but in their inmost essence are perfectly one. But for the\nfinal attainment of this end, the most important condition to be\nobserved is that scientific patience to which I called your attention in\nthe last Lecture. The chief thing to be guarded against is a precipitate\nand over-hasty decision. For by such we should incur the great danger of\nsacrificing the sacred deposit of faith to science, or of foolishly\nrejecting the treasures of true science, which as such is indispensable\nto the higher life, and even necessary and useful for the confirmation\nof faith itself. And why, in the pursuit of truth--that proper spiritual\ntheme and highly interesting matter of the otherwise flat and insipid\ndrama of life--should we feel indisposed to such a scientific patience,\nas I called it? Why should we be unwilling to recognize it as what it\nreally is--both salutary and indispensable to human frailty, and, as an\nintellectual virtue, no less necessary than even moral patience? And the\nlatter is even the fundamental condition of every great or little\nbusiness, and almost every pursuit of life, if it is to attain to a\nhappy result, and is not to fail of its true end and aim. For patience\nis, as it were, the indispensable portion which their earthly existence\nbrings to all men. Not only is it needed by the invalid on the bed of\nsickness, in the long and tedious observance of his physician\u2019s precise\nand rigid prescriptions--not only is it wanted by the teacher in his\ntroublesome task of giving the first development to the intellectual\npowers of the child--not only is patience requisite for the judge who\nhas to settle the complicated quarrel of two litigants, of whom each\nclaims his sympathy, each desires to win him to his own side and to bias\nhis judgment--but it is also indispensable to the warrior whom ambition\nhurries forward in the pursuit of honor for himself and his country. For\nnumberless are the hardships and privations, and many, too, are the\nmiseries which the soldier must undergo before he can gain the object of\nhis hopes, the hard-fought battle and the glorious victory. The\nstatesman, too, with his wide sphere of influence and authority, stands\neminently in need of patience. How watchful and comprehensive must be\nhis vigilance, how deliberate his precautions, lest the organic course\nof his administration should come to a check or stop, in consequence of\nhis having neglected, or failed to provide for any single member of the\ngreat body, or any regulating-wheel in the complicated machinery of the\nstate.\n\nBut, on the other hand, there are also moments in human life where the\nfinal issue turns not so much on a steady and uniform perseverance in\ncontinuous activity, as on a decided resolution and firmness of purpose.\nAmong these we may place foremost, perhaps, in an intellectual relation,\nthe dissension between faith and infidelity, and the choice at the point\nwhere the two branch off forever.\n\nIt is not here my design to set up, to commend, and to extol faith, nor\nto decry, to attack, and to make war upon infidelity. For the former\nwould take me beyond my present limits; the latter would lead me into a\nboundless field of details, and require me to take an exhaustive survey,\nnot only of all actually existent, but also of all conceivable,\nprejudices and delusions. My principal object is rather to sketch a true\nand exact picture of both, comprising, at the same time, all their\nhistorical manifestations, and explaining their psychological causes, in\norder to exhibit them both in their true light, so that man may choose\nfor himself and decide between them.\n\nNow the apparent--or it may be real, but still only accidental--schism\nbetween science and faith is, in the first place, internal. It is often,\nindeed, profoundly hidden and concealed in the inmost depths of the\nheart. It is therefore inwardly only that it admits of being adjusted\nand finally reconciled. When this task is once accomplished in the heart\nof an individual, and the choice is at least made one way or the other,\nthen this decision manifests itself outwardly, either as the triumph of\ntruth in the unity of science and faith, or as infidelity and\nskepticism, shows itself in the form of a determined opposition to this\nunity, or to faith itself. And the latter is the form it also assumes in\nthe intermediate case when the schism between science and faith is\ndeclared to be irreconcilable. Openly expressed, therefore, these two\nviews go far beyond the original dissension, and pass into the second\nschism and conflict between faith and infidelity. And although this\nproblem be itself an original and internal one, still it reveals itself\npre-eminently as a practical schism in actual life, and it is as such,\nalso, that it develops and manifests itself in history.\n\nBut it is our object to make this comparison and parallel between faith\nand infidelity, in the full practical meaning of the words, useful and\nhistorically applicable to life. For this purpose we must not regard\ninfidelity as founded exclusively on caprice, aversion, or\nobstinacy--consequently on ignorance--but consider it rather as enjoying\nevery intellectual advantage, and commanding all the resources of\nlearning and science. For a purely personal, and merely negative\nunbelief, without any deep foundation, and without even an apparently\nscientific confirmation, is neither very dangerous to the community,\nand, above all, presents little if any interest to philosophy. But, on\nthe other hand, if faith is successfully to cope with such an adversary,\nfurnished with all the armor and expedients of science, it must be able\nto stand the comparison with it in this respect. It must, in short, be\nconceived and set forth in its natural relation to true science, and,\ntaking its proper place and position, must act in union and co-operation\nwith it.\n\nI must here, however, premise a second preliminary remark. I can not\nbring myself to follow a very general opinion, and look upon faith as a\ntrue and duly moderated medium between superstition and infidelity. On\nthe contrary, I join superstition with infidelity, and can not but class\nthem together. If by this term of superstition nothing is meant but some\nexaggeration or other, some over-excitement of the moral and religious\nfeelings in individuals, then such a purely-personal case admits not of\nbeing raised to a general rule, nor elevated into a universal principle.\nAnd in any case it does not fall within the range of philosophical\nspeculation. For the care of the spiritual health and healthy diet of\nthe believing soul, which draws both life and love from the deep\nsources of faith, belongs to a wholly different province from that of\nphilosophy. But by this word and notion of superstition there is often\nunderstood a very childish error, which does not duly separate and\ndistinguish the figurative language and figurative forms of fancy from\nthe substance of the true intrinsic meaning. This error, which thus\nconfounds the figurative expression with reality, and takes it to be\nsomething real, may justly be called childish, inasmuch as it is\nuniversally peculiar, almost natural, to the intellect of children. Now,\nin and by itself, and simply understood, such an internal _optical\ndelusion_ results from nothing but a psychological imperfection, or a\nmere semblance of intellectual nature. But when this error is carried\nout into a system, and applied, on a large scale, to the sum and essence\nof faith, then, undoubtedly, it possesses a profounder origin and\nsignificance. This species of superstition belongs to one of those\nclasses of error which I am about to describe. When, for instance, an\nactual positive error is comprised in and understood by this name, then\nit belongs to infidelity, which, in general, is rather a false faith\nthan any mere absence of belief. Infidelity, in short, is an erroneous\nbelief. And such, also, is every species of superstition, and this\ndesignation of it by the name of erroneous faith, if generally adopted,\nwould be more correct and accurate, or, at least, less liable to be\nmisunderstood than its ordinary title.\n\nFor, to adhere to the usual term, every species of infidelity is either\na material deification of nature and a worship of the sensible powers of\nlife, or it is an abstract deification of the absolute subjective Me,\nand the pure reason, with its endless thinking and knowing. Even when it\nis conceived in a purely skeptical light as an absolute _not-knowing_,\nstill even in this case it is the understanding that is deified.\nStanding apart from, and thinking itself superior to, the weak\nprejudices of other men--in its negation feeling and fancying itself to\nbe instinct with genius--it is regarded and set up as the highest object\nof existence, and thereby in a certain intellectual sense is made an\nidol of. Even the evil power of perverted genius--for such we may well\ncall it when it ventures to contemn both law and right, and fancies\nitself to be raised high above the voice of conscience and the moral\nduties of docility and humblemindedness as belonging to ordinary\nminds--even such a perverted genius may be made the idol of a man who\nhas once turned his back on the simple truth and on God, and has\narrogantly set himself in opposition to both. We may, in short, without\nhesitation, advance it as an invariable principle and an unerring rule,\nthat the man who has lost or abandoned--not to say rejected--the idea\nand belief in the one good and righteous God, has enshrined within his\nbreast and cherishes some more or less dangerous idol, whether it be the\nsubjective Me or some fearful passion, or, it may be, some firm and\nwell-finished system of deified reason or nature.\n\nThe complete notion or ideal scheme of pure faith, in its organic union,\nco-operation, and true relation with all higher and with all natural or\nearthly science, must be conceived of and sketched in agreement with the\ntriple principle of the human consciousness, according to which it is\ndivided into spirit, soul, and sense. At least it is in this way that it\ncan most easily be made clear, and being accurately apprehended in its\nessential properties and nature, is kept distinct from all foreign\nelements and adscititious matters. But infidelity, and that doubt and\nabsence of harmony from which it takes its rise, as well as that error\nwhich results from it, have their seat in the fourfold consciousness.\nThese all owe their origin to that disunion in which the mind was\ninvolved by the Fall, and which manifests itself principally in the\ndissension which subsists between Fancy and Reason, and eventually\ndestroys all harmony and co-operation between the Understanding and the\nWill. For this twofold schism in the human consciousness is the source\nof all philosophical error and of its various false systems. And this\nscientific error again, so soon as it attains to a practical utterance,\nand in a living form enters into or interferes with life, becomes\ninfidelity.\n\nOriginally, however, the consciousness was not thus rent by dissension.\nThroughout, in its triple principle of sense, soul, and spirit,\nprevailed one living, harmonious action. Now, in this its natural state,\nthe soul must be regarded as the principle of faith. And this is a point\nespecially to be borne in mind. It is, however, too often forgotten. And\nconsequently the faith, or, rather (for we are not speaking at present\nof the subject-matter so much as of the mental act), the believing, is\nin an external manner derived very incompletely and unsatisfactorily\nfrom the divided and quadruple consciousness. For generally the act of\nbelieving and its essence is made to consist in a certain internal\nreserve on the part of both understanding and will, and a similar\ncontrol of the fancy, and even of the reason, as well as in the\nrecognition of these limits and of such limitation.\n\nWe must, no doubt, admit that there may be very much which the human\nintellect can not fathom nor see through. This it would by no means be\ndifficult to prove. And still more easy were it to show that man\u2019s will\ncan not always give the law, but must often submit to and recognize a\nhigher and more universal authority. And as regards the fancy, every one\nwill be ready--not to say forward--to make a somewhat similar admission.\nThe faculty of imagination, sensuous and material in its origin and in\nits operation, and always remaining in the highest degree subjective, is\nliable to innumerable illusions, to which we ascribe no value, or,\nrather, which we carefully endeavor to dispel from our minds, whenever\nwe attempt to penetrate into the inmost essence of the highest truth\nwhich it is the object of faith to embrace. That, moreover, the reason,\nno less than the fancy, has its peculiar--one might almost say, its\ninnate--optical delusions, must be but too well known to every one who\nhas made the slightest progress in the art of logic, and advanced beyond\nthe mere elements of a philosophical examination of this faculty.\n\nAll this, however, is only a negative nature. The mere recognition and\nacknowledgment of the fact that we can and ought to restrain our reason\nand reserve our judgment whenever a higher act of faith comes into\nquestion--or, in other words, that in such a case the absolute reason,\nwith its logical processes and laws of thought, is not alone qualified\nto decide, but meets with limits which it is unable to surmount--such\nconcessions do not lead to any positive result. They do but establish\nthe possibility of a faith which may transcend and is not confined\nwithin these bounds. While, however, they lead to the inference that\nsuch a faith is thoroughly conceivable, and that while it transcends the\nreason is, nevertheless, rational, and capable of being brought into\nperfect unison with the sound reason, they do not by any means establish\nat once its reality. All this is rather the preparatory step to\nbelieving, and not the true living faith itself.\n\nA true living faith (and we are here speaking of the function of\nbelieving, rather than of the particular details of a positive creed),\nis nothing else than the reception into the soul of the truth given unto\nus by God. And inasmuch as the soul is in its origin loving, and,\nindeed, the very faculty of love, a true living faith can not be\nthought of or exist without this accompaniment of love, which is even\nits distinctive characteristic.\n\nIn the case, for instance, of a special form and positive rule of faith,\nthe incompetency of the reason and understanding to pass a definitive\njudgment on such high and divine matters may be acknowledged, and even\nthe external will may sacrifice its own inclinations and submit to the\nrequirements of a positive law. But so long as all this remains, as it\nwere, external to man, so long as the soul within does not concur\ntherewith--a fact which may be infallibly discerned by the want or\nabsence of love--then in this case it is but a dead faith, even though\noutwardly, and in the judgment of others, it may pass as legitimate and\northodox. Then only is it a true living faith when it is wholly received\ninto the entire soul, as manifested by its internal fruitfulness in\nspiritual thought and moral action. For it is the soul that\nbelieves--that same thinking and loving soul which we have already\ndesignated the center of the collective consciousness of man and of his\nmoral life. In this state, however, the soul has undergone a change; is\nthis higher act of believing its cogitation has become steady and\nuniform, and its love perfectly pure and abidingly permanent in God.\n\nBut now, if in the triple consciousness the soul be the principle of\nfaith, then is the spirit or mind [_geist_] that of higher science, of\nfree thought, of a full and complete discernment, and of the final and\nsupreme act of distinguishing and deciding. And by this higher science I\nmean that which has for its exclusive object the eternal truth, and Him\nwho is the sum and source of all immutable verities. But, thirdly, the\nsensuous faculty is the principle of all lower sensible, terrestrial,\nand natural knowledge. And this comprises all human history, and\ntogether therewith all language and art, and every branch of learning\nthat is occupied therewith. But besides the physical sciences,\nmathematics also belong to this department, for these are dependent on\nthe sensuous conditions of number, weight, and measure, and consequently\non time and space, and on those material properties which fill space,\nviz., gravity and solidity.\n\nNow there is nothing, however hidden--nothing, however profound--into\nwhich this sensuous principle of knowledge, which investigates all that\nis earthly, natural or human, and historical, may not attempt at least\nto penetrate. Only the inquiring senses must not quit their true center.\nIn other words, they ought not to make a hostile attack on the center of\nthe consciousness, which is even the believing soul. They must not, by\nbreaking through it, or passing by it, attempt violently and unduly to\nascend to the highest. For in such a case, attempting to create a\nsupreme and highest object of their own, raising it on their own soil,\nand drawing its materials from their own sources, they will produce\nnothing but absolutely false and mere nature-gods, or else some\nhistorical phantoms, or idols of national recollections and patriotic\nenthusiasm, such as were enshrined in the heathen worship of antiquity.\nFor even, without material images and altars, such an idolatry may be\nrevived in a scientific form, similar to what we have witnessed, or, if\nwe look around us, may still witness, with our own eyes. And as little\ncan the free spirit of supreme knowledge look down from its own height\non this center of the soul, and pay no regard either to faith or love.\nIn the depths of sensuous observation, amid all the rich treasures of\nphysical and historical science, it can not move as sovereign without\nbeing first invested with the luminous garment of pure faith and love.\nOtherwise it only hastens from one error to another to fall from the\nfirst abyss into a second and still deeper one.\n\nThe pure and living faith of a loving soul abiding permanently in God,\nis properly the center of the human consciousness--the natural passage\nof life for the senses as they ascend into the heights, and for the mind\nor spirit as it penetrates into the depths. It is the connecting mean\nwhich not only reconciles and adjusts, joins and combines the two, but\nalso restores them to harmonious unity.\n\nIn the preceding Lecture I considered the notion of the truth in which\nthe supreme science and the divine faith coincide, and are at unison in\nreference to their subject-matter--consequently, as the right notion of\nHim who is truth itself. Viewing it thus from its objective side\nprincipally, I designated it the sum and source of all truth. We have\nnow, in the progress of our speculations, met again with this notion in\nits subjective aspect. It is chiefly in regard to its form that it is at\npresent to engage our attention. We have, in short, to answer the\nquestion how the consciousness must organically be formed and fashioned,\nand divided, but still harmonized in all its parts, so that in thought\nand knowledge, in faith, love, and science, in investigating and in\nlearning, it may be well-grounded and find a stable resting-point, and\nbe no longer distracted by dissension and doubt.\n\nNow the more the living faith becomes love the more does it, through the\nimmediate feeling and personal experience of life, attain to the\ncertainty of science. For whatever we experience in our own selves, or\nwhatever our own life brings as acquainted with, whatever we are\nimmediately sensible of, and feel that we also know and are certain of\nit, that at least is a matter on which we are not likely to be led\nastray by the seeming dialectical proofs of the opposite, or by all\nskeptical attacks, or objections to the effect that such an immediate\nsensation and knowledge of a higher object is impossible. Although we\nare incapable of refuting them, we are, nevertheless, unmoved by the\ndoubts which are raised even against the possibility of our own life and\nexistence. We let them pass by and still live on in the world until, in\nsome unlooked-for moment, and some unhoped-for way, the true solution,\nand the answer to these cavils which call in question the reality both\nof man\u2019s inner life and his personal experience, spontaneously suggest\nthemselves. And in the same way that the highest science, so soon as it\ndiscerns and understands its own nature, also becomes conscious of\nfaith, and of its own dependence on faith, and being supported,\ncompleted, and perfected thereby, comes into immediate and living\ncontact with it, so, on the other hand, the higher faith in the divine,\nthe more vivid and the more earnest it is in love, becomes a more\nimmediate conviction, and a science founded on the personal experience\nof life.\n\nFaith in the soul, as the center of man\u2019s entire consciousness, may be\nlikened to the outspread canopy of the blue heavens, according to that\nolden notion of it as a firmament, which perhaps in its figurative\ninvestiture still contains much that is strikingly true. According to\nthis old but beautiful conception, the firmament was a definite limit\nthat divides the heaven from the earth. Above it the free ether of light\ndiffuses itself and stretches into the wide regions of illimitable\nspace; while in the lower sphere, inclosed by the firmament, the wind of\nlife [_Lebenswind_] now plays with refreshing motion, now descends to\nthe earth in quickening dews or fertilizing showers, or draws out of the\nground and to the light the hidden springs of life and mighty streams.\nFaith, therefore, is, as it were, the heavenly firmament in the\nconsciousness that divides the streams of spiritual life and of external\nand internal science that are above it, from those that are under it. If\nthis boundary be taken away, or violently broken through, the light and\nthe darkness are no longer held apart, but mingle together in one\nconfused and orderless mass. The true light grows darker and gradually\nbecomes extinct, while the darkness begins to shine with a false glare\nand the glimmering twilight of pernicious delusion. The old chaos breaks\nin again upon the human mind, and it becomes anew what it formerly was,\n\u201cwithout form and void.\u201d\n\nWhen, however, the triple consciousness preserves its beautiful order\nand harmony, then the spirit, as the heavenly height above, the sensible\nnature as the deep below, and the soul as the firmament between them,\nare indeed divided, but not separated or hostilely opposed to each\nother. On the contrary, the height as well as the deep, and the whole\ncircle of spiritual existence, are organically combined and united\ntogether in this center of faith in the soul. Now this original\nconstitution of the mind being preserved, the further development and\nprogress of knowledge and truth may be regarded as the second step of\ninternal creation, wherein the light begins to shine more and more on\nthe mind and on science. The first clear insight, on the other hand, and\ninternal perception that the highest science and the divine faith are\nnot essentially distinct, but are fundamentally identical, must be\nconsidered as the earliest entrance of the spirit of truth into the\nheart of man.\n\nSuch is the right notion of faith, and of a mind wherein faith and\nscience are organically united and harmoniously concordant. But in order\nto afford freedom of choice between faith and infidelity, it is\nnecessary to contrast this living image with the complete picture of a\nmind involved in doubt, distraction, unbelief, and error. For all the\nmotives that can influence a decision must be furnished by a simple\ncomparison of the two, which, indeed, if made honestly and completely,\nfurnishes of itself the solution of the problem.\n\nNow I have already more than once called your attention to the tendency\nto discord, and to the disposing causes to error which subsist in the\nnatural constitution of the human mind with its four poles or members.\nIn particular I directed your notice to the fact that reason and fancy,\nsuch as they now are in their present state of mutual alienation and of\nhostile opposition to each other, can not be regarded as original\nfaculties of the human consciousness. Originally they were both in\nunison in the thinking and loving soul so long as living and working in\nfaith and truth, it was on that account confirmed by the divine Spirit,\nand preserved by union with Him. But when it had once lost this center\nof unity, and, its light being obscured, it had become a prey to\ndissension, it immediately fell asunder into these two halves or\nfaculties of thought. On the one hand stood the reason--as a mere organ\nof reflection--one, _i.e._, which, in lifeless abstraction, thinks over\nthe objects previously presented to it, or as a mere directive faculty\nof thought, without any originative powers of its own; while, on the\nother, the fancy presented itself with a blindly-productive energy in\nthought and invention, as a wild, but, nevertheless, living sense and\ninstinct of nature.\n\nReason and fancy, therefore--those two faculties of half truth, if it be\nallowable so to speak--whenever, instead of seeking to escape from\ndissension by reverting to a higher center of unity, they stand\nisolated, and attempt each by itself to reign supreme, are the real\nsource and actual seat of all error. Now, one species of error to which\nman has been most prone ever since his soul was rent asunder and lost\nits unity, is the subjective shape which he gives to material phenomena.\nFor that fancy, even when most comprehensive, purest, and best,\ninvariably remains more or less subjective, is a fact which no man will\neither wish or attempt to deny, any more than that the imagination takes\nits beginning from the sensuous impressions of the material world. And\nthis subjectivity of the fancy may, I think, be taken for granted, even\nwithout any reference to and without discussing the question of the\npossibility of demoniacal influences.\n\nNow, this subjective shaping of material phenomena forms the foundation\nof all mythology; it is the general explanation of all the facts of\nheathenism. It is, of course, implied in the very principle of its\nexplanation, that manifold and various shapes or forms and developments\nare both conceivable and possible. And, in actual fact, it exhibits the\ngreatest diversity, from the rude objects of the grossest Fetischism up\nto the exquisite creations of a refined and artistic mythology. In its\nactual manifestations, however, and in its effects on practical life,\nthe latter still retains its affinity with the former; at least, it\nrests on the same foundation of a poetical religion--some view of the\nuniverse embodied in a real shape--in short, the deification of nature.\n\nWe have here taken the olden heathenism in a very simple light, and\nquite generally as a materialism assuming a poetic form and expression,\nbut one, at the same time, in which, as soon as we pierce through its\npoetical investiture, we discern many points of contact with Pantheism.\nWhen, however, pursuing a searching historical inquiry into the heathen\nmodes of conception, we enter thoroughly and deeply into its details, we\nmeet therein with so many magical rites and usages, that, in spite of\nany previous inclination to the contrary, we feel indisposed to deny the\npossibility of a demoniacally-affected imagination having, in some\ndegree, influenced the character of heathenism. And, indeed, even in a\nphilosophical point of view, there does not exist any sufficient reason\nfor such a denial. This, however, as we formerly said, is a matter which\nneeds not to be taken into consideration at present.\n\nIt would be a great mistake to suppose that this error of a heathenish\ndeification of nature is confined to the ancient world, or to those\ngreat and half-civilized primeval races of the remotest East, which,\nhowever, remained, and still continue, as it were, a living monument of\nan earlier epoch in the development of humanity. In the more\nintellectual ages of the world, physical science, or the philosophy of\nnature, may still be heathenish. It may be this, even while abstaining\nrigorously from all symbolical language, it comes forward in the highest\nelevation of the dynamical theory, and in pure scientific formularies.\nThis may be the case even when outwardly it appears to be highly\nspiritual, or, at least, far removed from all the ordinary features of\nmaterialism. And it is invariably such whenever it recognizes nothing\nhigher or superior to the infinite vital force and its dynamical play\nand law, and, consequently, does but deify nature. Heathenish it must\never remain so long as it does no more than this. This forms, as it\nwere, a relapse of science into heathenism, and here, under a different\nform, fancy asserts her olden authority. For this purpose she does but\nassume a geometrical shape, and, decking herself out with all the riches\nof science, and moving with free dynamic action, speaks a thoroughly\nmathematical language. The point of indifference, and the positive and\nthe negative pole of all existence, are now, so long as such a\nphilosophy recognizes nothing beyond them, the new gods which, in those\nscientific fictions, whereof our own age has been profuse enough, may\nreceive a shifting rank and honor, but still hold a similar position\ntherein to that of Jupiter and Venus, or Mars and Apollo, in the ancient\nmythologies.\n\nWhen, however, in epochs pre-eminently devoted to science, and possessed\nof a true or false scientific enlightenment, we look to the whole age\nand its general tone, this philosophical error of an exclusive\nmaterialism, and of a scientific deification of nature, does not appear\nto be the most universally prevalent. It occurs rather as an episode and\nan exception, and, in a certain limited degree, as an opposition to\nanother error, which, as it is received far more generally, so it\nexercises a still more despotic authority over the minds of men. I mean\nrationalism; this is properly the new heathenism of scientific times.\nHere, in the infinity of dialectics, and the endless dialectical\ndisputes of an abstract and empty thinking, as well as in the false\nsemblance of a logical necessity which prevails in these logical\ndisputations, lies the source of the second leading error of philosophy.\nAll erroneous systems, whether of philosophy or religion, lie somewhere\nbetween these two extremes of false thought. Every species of\ntheoretical or practical unbelief or erring faith, or even of a\nscientific superstition, either approximates, on the one hand, to\nnaturalism, whether under the garb of a poetical symbolism, or the\nscientific form of a dynamical theory, or, on the other, to the\nabsolutism of the reason, with its dead formularies. Every religious and\nevery philosophical error is either a subordinate or a distorted species\nof one or the other--or, it may be, a mixture--a mean compounded of\nboth. Manifold, however, or, rather, innumerable, are the several\nchanges and combinations into which these two elements of infidelity and\nan erring faith may, and, indeed, actually do, enter.\n\nThese, then, are the two principal elements out of which all the other\nforms of error are produced. Reason, therefore, and fancy must be looked\nupon as their true roots and sources in the human consciousness. They\nspring either from the scientific productive faculty of imagination, as\nthe unpurified sense of nature before the Spirit of God has moved on the\nface of these waters of infinite life, or from the mere subjective\nreason, which, in its pursuit of the absolute, thinks only and knows\nonly its own Me. It is on this soil also that philosophical error first\nassumes a systematic shape and development.\n\nOur meaning will perhaps be made clear by an illustration from the\nhealing art. Confining ourselves to the simple facts, we might say\ncorrectly enough, fever and gout, as two leading forms of human disease,\nhave their seats either in the organs and circulation of the blood, or\nin the system of the bones and muscles. Still it would not be\ninconsistent with such a statement to believe that the primary occasion\nor cause of both evils has a deeper and more hidden origin in some\nhigher organ of life within the human frame, and in some derangement or\ndisturbance of its functions. In their outward effects, however, and\nmanifestation, these two diseases respectively seize upon these two\nspheres of bodily organization, and there spend themselves. And the same\nis true of those two intellectual diseases, rationalism and the absolute\nsystem of nature, as regards the reason and fancy. The latter are their\nprincipal seats: they form the domain wherein all the false productions\nof erring systems are engendered and spring up, or, in other words, the\nspot where the paroxysm of their internal enmity and strife comes to a\ncomplete outbreak. Of course we do not mean that these two diseases\nalways present themselves simply and purely. In the morbid state of the\nintellect, as well as in the similar case of organic affection, there\nare numerous complications of disease which require a careful and\naccurate treatment. The first cause of all intellectual disease, of\nscientific error, or systematic infidelity, or generally of every\nspecies of a false faith, may lie still deeper, or must be traced still\nhigher to some more remote and hidden cause. And, in truth, the primary\norigin of all human error is to be found in the alienation of the mind\nor spirit from God and His eternal light, and in its inevitable\nconsequences--the obscuration of the soul, and the blinding, and the\naberration and disorder of the senses--and especially of the higher\nscientific sense for truth. And in order that the senses may be\ngradually restored to their true state and order, and reopened--and in\norder that the soul be also illuminated anew, the spirit must recover\nits true luminous center in God. When this is once done, the whole of\nman\u2019s cognitive faculty will be restored to its original state.\n\nBut in the outward manifestations of consciousness, as it is now\nentangled in and limited by the material, or sensible world, or\npractical life, the absolute reason, and a fancy totally merged in and\nengrossed by nature, form the two poles of philosophical error. In all\nthe systems hitherto so frequently alluded to, these two are essentially\nthe only sources of delusion, although, of course, innumerable\nintermediate tints or chemical combinations of both are possible. The\nunderstanding and the will--that is, a faulty sophistical intellect, and\na faulty unconditional or absolute volition--do, no doubt, essentially\nco-operate in the formation and completion of both these erroneous\nsystems of science. There are, besides, certain passionate and personal\nerrors and prejudices of the understanding no less than of the will.\nThese, however, in their immediate effects, are practical, and confined\nto actual life. At least, taken by themselves, and without the\nco-operation of fancy and reason, they will never be able to create a\nscientific system.\n\nIn order, however, more precisely to indicate the extent to which the\nunderstanding and will co-operate in the production of philosophical\nerror, it is necessary to repeat my previous remarks, and also to add\nsome more precise determinations with respect to the form of aberration\npeculiar to, and, as it were, inborn in, each of these faculties. As\nconcerns the will, we placed its proneness to err in its unconditional\nor absolute volition, which manifests itself in life as a destructive or\ndisturbing force, where, however, its effects are variable, being\nproportionate to the wider or narrower sphere of action. In all alike,\nhowever, this principle of absolute willing retains its true character.\nIt shows itself, first of all, in the obstinacy of the child, where it\nforms the greatest obstacle that education has to contend against. Its\naction is, no doubt, but very weak here; still this apparently\ninsignificant phenomenon serves to prove--and for this purpose we\nreferred to it--that the fault has its root, and is, as it were, inborn\nin the very nature of man, and in the present constitution of his mind.\nAs for the second degree, since the evil runs through all the various\nstages of human life, and assumes manifold shapes, we are, therefore, at\nno loss for examples. Whether we take our instance from the obstinacy of\nthe founder of a sect passionately adhering to and maintaining the\nopinions he has once adopted, or that of the leader of some dangerous\npolitical party, in either case the consequences of this pernicious\nprinciple will appear to be, in the highest decree, extensive and awful.\nBut, lastly, it shows itself in its full and most frightful energy in\nthe reckless and unsparing lust of conquest, and in the unsatiable\nthirst of absolute dominion which stimulates the conquering despot.\n\nThe second of the two similes, however, as it is most immediately\nconnected with, so it throws most light upon, the problem before us, the\nexplanation, viz., of intellectual error. For science, too, has its\nsects, and even into the calm regions of philosophy (for such it surely\nought to be, as professing to be the satisfaction of our inmost longing\nafter a knowledge of ourselves and of nature in truth and in God), the\nviolent spirit of party finds too often an entrance. In the spirit of\nsystem, and in the prejudices of a view or opinion once adopted, the\nabsolute and resolved will, which originally is rather a fault of\ncharacter than an error of the understanding, nevertheless co-operates\nessentially to the establishment of a philosophical error, at least from\nits formal side. When, however, as, under the influence of the spirit of\nsystem, is easily, and indeed generally done by the founders of\nscientific sects, the _absolute_ is itself adopted as the immediate\nobject, then it is the pursuit of this idea of the unconditional that\ncarries each of these two general forms of error to the highest pitch of\nextravagance. Applied to nature and any positive view and particular\nsystem thereof, it gives to it a character of exclusiveness and\ndefiniteness, by which, separated from all that is higher and properly\ndivine, and made to rest entirely in itself, it is carried away to the\npantheistic self-sufficiency and deification of a false unity. Combined\nwith the egoistic or subjective reason, this pursuit of the absolute and\nthe idea thereof creates the idealistic delusion, or, at least, readily\ngives rise to it, and this is the first step, or, at any rate, the usual\nintroduction, to scientific atheism.\n\nAs to the understanding--in one of the earliest of these Lectures, we\nmentioned abstract thought as its peculiar form of error. It is\nunquestionable that the understanding may lose itself in mere abstract\nand dead thinking, so as, amid its mass of purely abstract conceptions,\nto forget entirely all truly pregnant and vital cogitation. Such as\nunderstanding, there can be no doubt, must either be defective in its\norganization, or imperfectly and falsely developed; and so it goes on\ndeceiving itself and propagating error among others. Correctly speaking,\nhowever, this abstract thinking does not belong to the understanding,\nso much as to the reason, which is even the faculty of abstraction. And\nindeed, apart from its great and manifold abuses, the latter, in its\nright place and within its assigned limits, forms nothing less than a\nnatural requirement and an essential function of the human mind. As for\nthe understanding, it is based on intellection; consequently it supposes\nthat in this intellectual act the object is vividly seen through and\nthoroughly penetrated by the mind. And this object may be either an\nexternal one, taken from nature or actual life, or internal--a mere\nthought or conception, and the word or name designating it. In the\nlatter case, the mental act of penetration is directed to ascertaining\nthe true and original sense of an idea, or the import of the notion, or\nof the term by which it is designated. An understanding which has lost\nitself among abstract ideas must, in such purely abstract thinking,\nbecome eventually entirely extinct. Wholly, however, without life and\nspirit, the understanding, according to its peculiar character, can\nnever be; it is therefore its total absence, or a very defective\ncondition of it, rather than its death, that is marked out and indicated\nby such a state.\n\nBut if we wish to determine the particular fault or error that is\npeculiar to any one faculty of the human consciousness, it is evident\nthat we must not seek for it in any defective state or imperfect\ndevelopment; but, on the contrary, in the highest and fullest energy.\nBut now an extremely ingenious, clear, and vivid intellect may be\ncombined with what I have lately termed an evil genius--the false power\nof genius. In such a combination, we have the true state of a perverted\nunderstanding, or of that aberration which is peculiar to it, and for\nwhich the term of a sophistical intellect seems the tersest and most\nappropriate designation. And this sophistical understanding is ever the\nworking organ and instrument for the building and construction of all\nfalse systems, and to which sooner or later the latter are all obliged\nto have recourse.\n\nWith regard, then, to the co-operation of the sophistical understanding\nin the formation of philosophical error, and its share and influence on\nthe spirit and the matter of any system of untruth, it furnishes an\nopposition to the idealistic confusion which the absolute will produces\nby its predominant idea of the unconditional. Here we have rather a\npredominating tendency to a realistic view of the world, according to\nthe principle it adopts of the universal insignificance of all things,\nnot merely in reference to morals or practical life, and in the domain\nof history, but also in nature and the whole creation. And with this\nview is associated a skeptical contempt for all who dare to think\notherwise--all ordinary minds who can not rise to the height where the\nconsciousness of knowing and believing nothing sits enthroned. This\ntendency, therefore, and this error of the sophistical understanding, is\nmost immediately related to, and associated with, the dialectical\nconfusion of the reason with its endless disputations. But as the\nabsolute volition and pursuit of the unconditional can not well be\nthought of entirely apart from a certain perversion of the intellectual\npowers, so the operation of the sophistical understanding is impossible,\nwithout a certain admixture of an evil will and an intentional\ndetermination to oppose the truth.\n\nBut notwithstanding this intrinsic connection between these two\nintellectual faults, yet in their outward manifestation, and in actual\nlife, they often stand wide apart from each other. The true notion of a\nsophistical intellect will perhaps be best illustrated in a few words by\nrecalling to your recollection the most celebrated writer of the\neighteenth century, who exercised so great an influence not only on the\nminds of his countryman, but on the whole spirit of the age.[50] If,\nagain, it were necessary to employ instances in order to give you a\nclear idea of the philosophical pursuit of the absolute, examples enough\nmight be found among the German schools and philosophers of recent\ntimes. But to revert to the sophistical intellect: rarely has it been,\nand rarely will it be, found manifesting itself in such fullness as it\ndid in this anti-Christian and worldly writer, who indeed worshiped the\nage which worshiped him, but mocked and scoffed at all besides.\n\nNow as to these two opposite systems of error and unbelief--rationalism,\nviz., and a false idolatrous system of nature--in their inmost essence\nthey are both equally false and pernicious. In this respect there is\nnothing to choose between them; they are alike utterly abominable. Even\nin the judgment of theology, pantheism, as the one extreme of error on\nthe side of nature, can scarcely appear less false and abominable than\natheism as the other idealistic extreme. Both must be placed on the same\nline; for the one no less than the other is a full and perfect refusal\nto recognize the one Eternal Truth and the Living God.\n\nLooking, however, to their external manifestation and effects--a\nphilosophy of nature which cloaks its thoroughly heathenish sentiments\nbeneath the bright and seductive attraction of beautiful and\nhighly-finished form--may perhaps appear more dangerous and more\npernicious than rationalism, especially when in the comparison the\nlatter appears under its more moderate, pliant, and skillfully modified\nphases.\n\nBut it is not so much in and by themselves, and generally, that we have\nhere to consider these two kinds of error. In such a case the sentence\nwe must pass upon them would be, that they are equally fatal and\npernicious. At present we are rather concerned with them in their\nreference to our own age, and to that struggle which it has to undergo\nwith them. In this respect I can not hesitate decidedly to pronounce\nrationalism the greater and the more dangerous error of the two. For not\nonly has it struck its root more deeply in the spirit of the age, and is\nfar more widely diffused, but it is far more supple. Parasitically it\nengrafts itself on the truth and its various systems, to prey upon them\nthe more successfully. It is ever ready to make concessions to and to\ncapitulate with its adversary, in order to triumph over it the more\ncompletely in the end. And when it seems driven altogether from the\nfield, it still holds its ground beneath some new disguise. In short, it\nis scarcely possible to determine the point, if indeed it is ever\nreached, where it can be safely said that the evil is completely and\nforever eradicated. It is only life itself--the higher spiritual life,\nthat is--and the true philosophy which traces and restores it in the\nmind\u2019s triple faculties of knowledge, that can extricate us from this\ndilemma of conflicting errors, and provide the clew which shall guide us\nout of the dialectical mazes of the reason. On the other hand, a false\nphilosophy of nature--and such is every system that stands in hostile\nopposition to religion, or attempts to usurp its place--which is\nconceived in a merely empirical spirit, will never prove dangerous.\nAfter a brief and limited influence, it will soon fall into neglect and\noblivion. When, however, it is the result of a lofty and intellectual\neffort--when a truly great and comprehensive spirit moves within\nit--then will it soon become conscious of those limits, and feeling its\nown false position, it will, ere long, find the passage to the divine,\nwhich is beyond and above it. But it is not easy for a philosophy of\nnature to be or at least long to remain strictly and absolutely confined\nto its own limits of system, even because of the continual advance of\nthis science of life. And as soon as it recognizes its true place as\nsecond and subordinate to a divine philosophy, then does it immediately\ncease to be a false faith. It is forthwith reconciled to the truth, or\nat least is already far on the road toward a complete reconciliation\nwith it. This milder judgment, however, can not in justice be extended\nto that pantheistic science in which nature is as decidedly and\nabsolutely deified as in any of the old systems of heathenism.\n\nWe have now completed our comparison of faith and infidelity, and\nsketched the picture both of man\u2019s mind and of his science, to and from\nwhich they respectively belong or issue. We, therefore, leave it free to\nthe judgment of every thoughtful mind that reflects upon itself and the\nnature of things, and loves and desires the truth, to choose and decide\nbetween them. This comparison is ever the proper problem of philosophy;\nand even if the sketch and delineation of these two states of the human\nconsciousness be, from the limits to which we are confined, not\nperfectly complete, still we may regard this problem as satisfactorily\nsolved. The struggle, however, between belief and unbelief is still to\ngo on in the world and time, but the victory of truth is reserved to\nhigher powers and forces than man\u2019s.\n\nAs to the nature and conditions of that intellectual conflict, and its\nseveral moments, a few remarks must be added, on its relation to, and\nbearings on, philosophy. First of all, I think the previous remarks must\nhave tended to throw light on a phenomenon which otherwise is remarkable\nand startling enough. The good cause, even when advocated by men of the\nbest intentions and the purest zeal for truth, with the greatest\nacuteness and a thorough knowledge of the truth and its essential\nprinciples, nevertheless is but little successful. At the very best, it\nmakes an extremely slow progress, while evil error advances with the\nfearful rapidity of contagion. To account for this singular fact it is\nnot sufficient to appeal to the persuasive rhetoric which the latter has\nat its command, or to any superior power of intellect in its advocates.\nThe cause lies rather in the miasmas of spiritual pestilence which are\nspread throughout, and are suspended in the moral atmosphere.\n\nWe should err greatly were we to suppose that the cause of truth, and of\nthe refutation of error, could as easily be disposed of as any civil\nprocess before a judicial tribunal. Here, to carry the day, it is enough\ncompletely to refute the pretensions of one\u2019s adversary, and to set\nforth one\u2019s own claim in a clear and irrefragable chain of legal proof.\nBut, in the matter of philosophy and the higher truth, how little is\ngained by the refutation, be it ever so complete, of one written system\nof error, when, in the mean while, two or three more spring up and call\nfor refutation no less than the first. The straight road, therefore, of\na calm, simple, and, at the same time, luminous and complete exposition\nof the highest system of knowledge seems, to my mind, a far more\nappropriate means for the establishment and diffusion of the truth than\nthe indirect course of refuting any false or erroneous system that may\nreign in a particular age and throughout the whole world. For, in the\nlatter course, if the controversy be at all searching and complete, it\nis necessary to enter into all its tortuous windings, at the risk of\nbeing lost and entangled in them. And even in the most favorable case,\nwhere the refutation is complete, nothing is ultimately gained by it but\na mere negative--the establishing the untruth of the refuted system,\ntogether with the proofs of that negative.\n\nIt would be most erroneous to suppose that this controversy is either\nentirely or in the main directed against books and leaves, propositions\nand words. It looks rather to the soul and spirit, and seeks to drive\naway, to remove, and banish from them, and utterly to extirpate, all the\ndeadly seeds of error and falsehood, replacing them by truth in all its\nfullness and energy, so as to win the minds and souls of men to its\nbeneficent rule.\n\nThis, however, is only possible by an individual process and a personal\ninterchange of ideas. For error and the restoration of truth assume a\nthousand different shapes, according to the different temperaments of\nindividuals, or to the different periods of life in each. If, therefore,\nit be the wish or duty of philosophy to make this its principal aim, it\nis only in the form of dialogue that it can successfully accomplish the\ntask, by suiting itself and closely conforming to the personal character\nof individuals. In this sense, and on this account, Plato, and the other\ndisciples of Socrates, in their controversy with the Sophists,\ninvariably employed the dialogical style, and chose this form for the\nexposition of their philosophical views. But even the written dialogue\ncan not do more than exhibit, as it were, a vertical section of the\nwhole infinite variety of individual views, convictions, and characters.\nAnd what thereupon is to be done in order to set them free and\nemancipate them from error, and to win them for, and to fill them with,\nthe truth?\n\nThe inner sense for the truth and the spiritual eye must be opened, and\nthe spirit of man must be led back and restored to its lost center. But\nthe soul must be won and attracted, totally converted and endued with\nnew life. But is this possible without some higher and divine power? Can\nit be accomplished by man\u2019s ordinary art of disputation, even though it\nbe perhaps sufficient for the ordinary transactions of a civil tribunal;\nor by a logical train of proofs, or by the skillful terms of a\nwell-managed dialogue, in the absence of all profounder power to move\nand actuate the soul?\n\nAnd such a higher power and effectual word of truth does exist. In the\nlanguage of Scripture it is called the Sword of the Spirit, which\npierces to the very marrow and divides asunder the soul and the spirit.\nA deep meaning is involved in this expression of the dividing asunder of\nsoul and spirit, and the very greatest of all the soul\u2019s pains is most\nappropriately indicated thereby. In death the immortal soul is separated\nand departs from the body; but soul and spirit still continue together\nin indissoluble union. These words, then, allude to some other and more\nviolent separation. And it is one, moreover, which is indispensable to\nthe triumph of truth in this struggle for life and death. For when error\ngoes to the inmost depths, and reaches to the very center of life, both\nspirit and soul grow and adhere together, and the delusion can not\notherwise be dispelled than by the violent separation of the two. And\nthus the light suddenly shines upon the spirit to show it the abyss on\nwhose brink it stands, while the soul is simultaneously set free from\nall the chains which bind it to its false life, and is thereby\ncompletely changed and converted. In this way is the triumph of truth\nover error and infidelity effected. Only we must remember that the Sword\nof the Spirit, \u201cwhich pierces even to the dividing asunder of soul and\nspirit, and of the joints and marrow,\u201d needs not always to be properly a\nspoken or a written \u201cword.\u201d In some deeply-moving catastrophe of a man\u2019s\nlife it makes a distinct and speaking manifestation of itself, working\nin him a total change of his feelings and sentiments. But the Spirit\u2019s\nflaming sword of judgment may be turned not only upon individuals, but\nalso upon whole nations and ages, to divert them from error and\nunbelief, and to lead them back to truth. Lastly, it may also be\ndirected toward the whole world and the whole human race; and to this\ninteresting topic, which in so many ways is brought so immediately home\nto the present era of the world, we shall, in the course of the\nfollowing Lectures, have occasion to recur.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XI.\n\nOF THE RELATION OF TRUTH AND SCIENCE TO LIFE, AND OF MIND IN ITS\nAPPLICATION TO REALITY.\n\n\nThe union of profound knowledge with divine faith, and the recognition\nand perception of their unity, is the mind\u2019s first step within the\ndomain of truth and of the consciousness of it; or, rather, the first\nstep in that gradation by which the mind and consciousness advance\ntoward verity; and it is even the fundamental principle of truth itself\nthat constitutes this beginning. The judgment which discriminates and\ndecides between a simple universal belief in God, and the connection of\nsuch a faith with all natural and sublimely true philosophy on the one\nhand, and unbelief, false science, and the various systems of error on\nthe other, forms the second term or step in the gradual progress of\ntruth and the spirit of truth in the human consciousness, whether of\nindividuals, or of the whole human race, or of any particular period of\nits development. These two subjects have already occupied our attention\nin the two preceding Lectures. The third point which the mind must\nattain to as the spirit of truth is more fully expanded, both in the\nconsciousness and in science, is the profitable application thereof to\nactual life, or its real manifestation, and the practical carrying out\nof its principles. For it is by this alone that the divine and\nfundamental principle of truth, and that important faculty of judgment\nwhich separates and distinguishes truth and true science from ignorance\nand error, are realized, and attain to their full end and perfection.\nThe consideration of this subject will form the basis of the present and\nall the following Lectures.\n\nBefore, however, I enter upon this new topic, or attempt to solve this\nthird problem of the actual application of science to life and of its\nprofitable combination therewith, I would wish to add here a few\nhistorical remarks on the subject-matter of our last discussions, which,\nwhile they serve to complete and to illustrate it, will at the same time\nfurnish a natural and easy transition to our present speculations. The\nstruggle and the alternate triumph of belief and unbelief, as they\ngained in turn the ascendency over the minds of men, and gave the\ndominant tone to different ages, or, rather, the contest of truth and\ntrue science with the different systems of error in the several periods\nof the development of mankind and of the history of the human intellect,\nis at all times a subject of the highest interest for philosophical\nobservation. In historical applications like the present, it invariably\nproves pre-eminently useful and instructive. I shall, however, confine\nmyself to a few examples, and select such as are most immediately\nconnected with our subject, or seem likely to lead to the most important\nresults.\n\nFrom the whole history of the ancient world I shall adduce but two\nillustrations: first of all, the twofold mental or spiritual state of\nthe primeval times; and, secondly, the highest reach of thought and\nknowledge which Greece attained in her most enlightened days, which are\nmarked at once with the signs of first maturity and of earliest decline.\nFrom both these instances it will be my object to prove that truth\ninvariably prevails in the beginning, and that it is always and every\nwhere prior to and antecedent to error.\n\nFrom the annals of modern history I shall in like manner bring before\nyou only a few particularly fruitful instances. From such periods of the\nworld\u2019s history I propose to show that the problem of science, in its\nreference to life and its profitable application, admits not of any pure\nand complete solution; or that often after an opening of promise it\nsuddenly takes a wrong direction, and so misses its true aim, and,\nconsequently, the problem of the age remains unsolved. This examination\nof the actual relation subsisting between science and life as it has\nbeen, or still is, historically exhibited in this or that particular\nepoch, together with the difficulties and the questions which it\nsuggests, will serve as an introduction to our entire theme. For this is\nnothing less than the satisfactory exposition and correct theory of the\napplication of true science to life, and of their profitable\ncombination.\n\nFirst of all, let us cast our glance back to the infancy of the human\nrace. In these primeval times, we every where meet with legends and\ntraditions of man\u2019s divine origin, mixed up and interwoven with the\nfables and symbols of heathenism. Now we are accustomed to regard\nheathenism, or the religion of the Gentiles, as universally, and,\nwithout exception, false and idolatrous, or at least absurd and\nfabulous. But is this consistent with the natural course of things?--is\nit not probable, or, rather, necessary, that, in its beginning at least,\nthis chaotic medley of symbols and legends must have had for its\nfoundation some very simple form of error, if we must suppose that it\nwas always, and even from the very first, nothing but error?\n\nNo doubt the heathenism of the first races, so far as we can trace it,\nand the early legends and rites of the oldest times that we are\nacquainted with, appear to be already involved in a perplexing confusion\nof the strangest fancies. Nothing better are they than a chaos of\nsymbolical images of nature, mingled and interwoven with some vague and\nshadowy outlines of truly spiritual ideas and thoughtful notes of a\nhigher strain, and also with ambiguous and enigmatical legends of\nhistorical tradition. The whole medley, moreover, differently developed,\naccording to the peculiar varieties of national character, or the\nhereditary feeling of tribe and family, assumes a particular hue from\nthe local colorings of these different spheres of life; or, moreover, as\nis not unfrequently the case, is remolded and cast into new combinations\nby the arbitrary caprices of the poetic fancy. Who can hope to find the\nsimple clew of such a maze? or who will give us the threads of Ariadne\nto guide us out of its intricacies?\n\nIt is true, generally speaking, that our historical knowledge and\nresearch do not reach very far back. The Flood, to which the traditions\nof all people remount, and which all telluric sciences, whether\ngeography, or natural history, or geology, or whatever other name they\nmay bear, directly or indirectly confirm, forms an impassable gulf\nbetween the modern and later family of man, and that first and gigantic\nrace of the antediluvian world. And yet careful criticism and historical\ninvestigation are still able to distinguish in the chaotic congeries of\ndifferent mythologies the several strata and epochs, and can separate\nthe primary rock of the earlier natural legend from the later mythical\nformations. But even this primary rock itself, amid the legends of\nprimeval times--this first, and oldest, and simplest basis of\nheathenism, is itself but a fusion and the _debris_ of some earlier and\nprecedent convulsion. But now all legends, every mythology, and\nuniversal tradition, agree in this one point. They concur in deriving\nthe origin of man from God, and assert that the first man, who, while he\nproceeded immediately from God, was also the first-born son of earth,\nin which he was placed, because it was of a nature nearest akin to his\nand ours. Now this same first man, as proceeding and taking his\nbeginning from God, could not well be without some knowledge of Him. The\nconcurrent tradition of all nations leads us to the idea of man\u2019s\npossessing knowledge, and in truth an immediate and intuitive knowledge\nof God in and out of nature, and indeed primarily and principally from\nthis source, and on the other hand also of his having an immediate and\nintuitive knowledge of nature in God. And this exactly is the old and\ntrue Gentilism of the holy patriarchs of the primeval world, if by this\nterm we understand the original religion of nature, among the earliest\nfamilies, and the pious patriarchs of the human race, as it is described\nin the language and after the analogy of Holy Writ,[51] and also in the\nancient traditions which have grown out of and attached themselves to\nit. Now, according to the simple progression of truth, which is also\nthat of God, and of the knowledge of Him, this revelation of nature was\nthe first and earliest that was imparted to man upon earth, and must be\ncarefully distinguished from that later or second revelation of God,\nwhich is both of a positive nature and is contained in a written law, or\nwritten word and book of the law. And in the written revelation this\ndistinction is most carefully observed throughout. The divine law, which\nalthough not written on brazen tablets, unquestionably existed in these\nprimeval ages of a natural revelation, which was read and intuitively\nunderstood in nature herself, or immediately in the hearts and minds of\nmen, was far simpler, and consequently also easier and less burdensome,\nthan the later law of the second revelation, which was designed for the\nmoral regeneration of a degenerate people, and for fitting them to be a\nwitness of the truth to other nations of the world still more degraded\nand benighted than themselves. And in the same way this second\nrevelation was less stringent and less exalted in its scope than the\nlast law of later times, promulgated in the third age of the world to\nall nations and kindreds of the earth. For the latter was not designed\nfor the first happy period of the infancy of mankind, but for his last\ndifficult, but decisive struggle, which is to end in the perfect\ntriumph of good, and in man\u2019s total emancipation from the hostile and\noppressive yoke of original evil. For the wise and omniscient Father of\nall has given to every age of man\u2019s history a peculiar and appropriate\nlaw. For the infancy of the race, He published an easy rule of\nlife--permitting the full expansion and the blooming development of all\nhis vital energies; but one of sterner preparation, of promise and of\nexpectation, for his youth. For his maturity, lastly, He has set forth a\nlaw of determined struggle with evil, and of a predominant love of the\ninvisible, and even of perfection. And consequently a new application of\nthe same law, and a new strengthening for the same conflict, is to be\nlooked for in the last times of the final consummation. But not only was\nthe divine natural law, as promulgated to man in the earliest ages, far\ndifferent from that of later times, and the subsequent stages of a\nfurther development of revealed knowledge. This immediate revelation,\nand intuitive knowledge of nature, was likewise very dissimilar to the\nartificially elaborate and complicated systems of physical science. For\nthese have principally to trace out and to revert to the original source\nof life, and of the full truth of nature, although even on this right\nroad of return we are not always nearest to the end, even when we seem\nto have made the greatest advance in that direction. But as the first\nman recognized God in nature, and not merely understood, but immediately\nperceived, and, as it were, saw, that He was there, therefore nature\nalso was, in a certain measure, transparent to his eye in God. And\nalthough his knowledge of nature was in the highest degree simple, still\ndid it even on that account penetrate more deeply into its inmost\nsecrets. It was rendered thereby more thoroughly vital and endued with\npower. One might almost call it a natural force within him, similar to\nand akin to those without him. For generally in those early ages of the\nworld, man possessed many higher energies and living powers in and over\nnature, which subsequently were entirely withdrawn from him, or which in\nlater times, as wonderful phenomena, formed singular exceptions to man\u2019s\nordinary endowments.\n\nWe are, perhaps, only too much disposed to imagine that the ancient race\nbefore the Flood resembled in every particular a later and even the\npresent generation. Our conceptions of it, as regards both its virtues\nand its vices, are in nowise great and wonderful enough. In the first\nplace, it is highly probable that the atmosphere of the globe was at\nthat period totally different from what it is in the present day, and\nthat consequently both the food and manner of living in those days were\nalso dissimilar from our own. If any reliance is to be placed on the\nbest and oldest historical testimonies on these points, we can scarcely\ndoubt that the primeval race--at least the generations immediately\npreceding the Deluge--were of gigantic stature, and that their mental\npowers and faculties were on a correspondent scale of magnitude. In\nperfect conformity with these other proportions, the Scripture also\nassigns to those antediluvian races a duration of existence, which, as\ncompared with our own standard of the average life of man, is equally\ngigantic. And so little of antecedent improbability is there in this\nstatement, that to get rid of it commentators have been forced to have\nrecourse to the most far-fetched and arbitrary, and, in fact, most\nuntenable and groundless hypotheses.\n\nNow, it is manifest that such corporeal advantages and length of life\nwhich the first patriarchs of the human race enjoyed, must have been\nhighly favorable to the development of their intellectual gifts and\nimmediate intuition, as founded on a living natural faith, so long as\nthey were rightly used and directed toward God, as their proper object.\nAnd in the same way their tendency to fearful corruption, under an\nimpious and sinful employment of their great mental endowments, must be\nequally evident. At the same time we must confess our inadequacy to form\na conception of the height to which they attained in either state which\nwould be in any way proportionate to the truth. It is, however, an\ninvariable principle of development, confirmed by the observation of\nnature, and a careful induction of historical facts, that all that is\ngreatest and noblest, if it once begins to degenerate and corrupt,\nreaches in its corruption and degeneracy the worst and most fearful\nextremes. And so it appears to have been with this gigantic and\ngigantically endowed race of the antediluvian world.\n\nIn modern times, a great German philosopher, who flourished toward the\nclose of the seventeenth century, and was no less famous for his\nhistorical learning than for his mathematical discoveries, made the\nmemorable remark, that the last sect in the whole development of\nChristian revelation, and toward the close of modern history--the last\nsect, and also the most prevalent and most fearful, would be that of\natheism. This dictum, at the time at which it was pronounced, which was\nsomewhere about the transition from the anxiety and oppression of the\nseventeenth century to the enlightenment and self-complaisancy of the\neighteenth, must have appeared a perfect paradox. But now that its\nfulfillment seems, both to our eyes and understanding, so close at hand,\nwe recognize with amazement, not to say with a slight feeling of horror,\nits deep oracular truth.\n\nNow, as the beginning and the end often bear a wonderful resemblance to\neach other, it is not improbable that the first sect was of the same\nkind and nature as it has been predicted that the final heresy will be.\nA mere dead unbelief and purely negative atheism, it is true, can as\nlittle have prevailed in those times as a symbolically degraded and\nimmorally materializing heathenism. For it was only after the higher\nmagical powers were withdrawn from man, that the fancy became in this\nsense, and to such an extreme degree, symbolical and figurative. Or,\nperhaps, we may more correctly say, that of all high endowments now lost\nforever, a purely figurative fancy was all that remained; whereupon, in\nopposition to it, the other erroneous extreme of abstract thought\ngradually attained to a greater and undue development. And we may with\ngood reason assume, that with this fearful catastrophe the very\nconsciousness of man was essentially altered and changed. Of the wild\nand lawless state of the generations before the Flood, we can not,\nperhaps, form a juster conception than by regarding it as an open\nrebellion and organized revolt of man against his Maker and benefactor,\na complete and visible supremacy of the evil principle and the wicked\nspirits on earth, and an intimate union between man and the devil. It\nmust have resembled the description which we meet with in some old books\nof the future reign of antichrist. Such a state of things may justly be\ndenominated atheism. But, however this may be, and whatever conception\nwe may form, and whatever historical shape we may give to particulars in\nthis domain (where, after all, we can not get beyond conjecture and\npresumptions, or, it may be, hypothetical history, based on\nprobabilities), one general point is incontestable. Truly noble, in\nthose primeval times of a pure natural faith, must have been the\nintellectual powers and development of the first ancestors of the world\nand those great progenitors of the human race, and fearful, in the same\ndegree, must have been the fall and corruption which followed the abuse\nof those high privileges. For man\u2019s mental powers, still subsisting in\nthe plenitude of their productive energy, and his lordship over nature\nbeing undisturbed, his corruption must have generated the wildest and\nmost monstrous excesses. Consequently, amid the universal reign of evil\nand wickedness, the only course that remained was the total destruction\nof the existing generation, and the complete renovation, or, rather, a\nnew commencement of mankind.\n\nBut the corruption of later times, though, in truth, on a less scale,\nhas likewise been very great. Rapid, too, has been the passage from good\nto evil. Moreover, it is self-evident that in the primeval ages of a\nvivid natural faith, and of a life according to nature, that separation\nbetween life and nature that exists in these later times could not well\nhave taken place--nay, at such a period it is totally inconceivable. On\nthe contrary, science and life must have been in perfect unison. And\nthis is true, not only of the virtuous knowledge in the first happy\nepoch of the world\u2019s golden age, but also of the wicked ideas and the\ndemoniac efforts of error in the succeeding periods of gigantic\nbewilderment and arrogant enmity to God. It is by reason of this unity\nbetween life and knowledge that this instance belongs to that gradation\nin the mutual relations of the two in the different ages of the world.\n\nQuite otherwise, however, was it, in this respect, with Grecian\nphilosophy. In the most enlightened days of classical antiquity we\nbehold it either coming forward in direct opposition to life, especially\nin its public aspect of politics and religion, or else as absolutely\nesoteric, retiring altogether and estranged from active duties. Now, in\nadducing the history of Grecian philosophy as my second instance, and as\nan eminently important moment in the history of the intellectual\ndevelopment of the ancient world, my object is to show that in the same\nway that, according to all grounds of analogy, a simpler natural faith,\nas the simple religion of the first patriarchs of the human race,\npreceded the later form of heathenism into which the worship of the\nGentiles so wildly and so fearfully degenerated--so, also, in the\nphilosophy of Greece, its later systems and sects, which were so\nthoroughly false and pernicious, were preceded by, at least, a\ncomparatively better and higher view--by a purer theory of science and\nof truth.\n\nFor though the oldest philosophers of the Ionian school held water, or\nair, or fire, to be the ground and principle of all things, and built on\nsuch hypotheses their whole theory of nature, nevertheless we should, in\nall probability, greatly err, were we, on that account, to charge them\nwith or to suspect them of materialism. They understood these elements,\nnot in the ordinary, but in a spiritual and living sense, as the\nelements of universal life, and, at the same time, did not fail to\nacknowledge a higher spirit operating in and above nature, and God\u2019s\nall-disposing intelligence. Of Heraclitus, who made fire the essential\nground and first principle of all things, we know, with historical\ncertainty, that, notwithstanding, his philosophy and view of the\nuniverse was, in the highest degree, ideal and spiritual. And the same\nis true also of Anaxagoras, the teacher of Socrates. Much, too, that\nwould do great credit to the general spirit of thought and science of\nthat period, might be adduced from the venerable founder of the valuable\nart of medicine, and also from his school, were the present the\nappropriate place. The simple fact, too, that Socrates proceeded from\nout of this Ionian school, would alone dispose me to form a favorable\nopinion of it in its earliest state; and it is greatly to be regretted\nthat our information concerning the oldest of these great thinkers is so\nscanty, and its details so uncertain and so little to be depended on,\nthat it is impossible to form any settled and definite judgment on the\nmatter.\n\nWhen, however, we proceed to examine the religious spirit and value of\nGrecian philosophy in general, or any of its special branches, schools,\nand epochs, we must adopt as the fundamental rule of our judgment the\nuniversal dogmas of man\u2019s pure and uncorrupted feelings or judgment.\nTaking for our standard the natural belief in a living and personal God,\nand in an everlasting and all-ruling spirit, in the immortality of the\nsoul, and in the freedom of the will, together with the immutable\nprinciples and ideas of justice, honor, morality, and virtue, we must,\nin this case, carefully exclude all the special doctrines of a positive\nfaith. We must not look for or require, in so early an age, that which\nthe further development of later periods brought to light. Far be it\nfrom us to wonder at, or to urge it as a reproach against Pythagoras or\nPlato, if among their doctrines we meet with ideas, which, strictly\nunderstood, are not perfectly consistent with Christianity. Rather is it\na matter for surprise and congratulation that they knew and were aware\nof, had anticipated and taught, so much that a later date first placed\nin a fuller light, and made the common property of all men. This, at\nleast, was the opinion and conclusion on this subject entertained in the\nfirst century by the greatest and best-informed of the fathers of\nChristian doctrine and science.\n\nThis highly religious tendency and perception which we recognize in\nPythagoras, for instance, or in Plato--this anticipation by science of\nthe ideas of Christianity, of principles which, with this exception,\nbelong to the Christian era of the world\u2019s history, could not have been\nwithout God. We must, in short, recognize therein a higher providence.\nWe may accordingly justly regard Grecian philosophy, in its better\nspirit and elements, as forming on its part a preparation for the\nGospel, and a scientific introduction to Christianity, of a special and\npeculiar kind.\n\nNow, among those whose observations, and sciences, and endeavors were\nthroughout directed Godward, the Pythagoreans stand highest and\nforemost. We have already alluded to the fact, that in physical science\nthey were acquainted with the best and the most important of all that\nour history of discoveries, within the last three centuries, is so proud\nof. Here and there, perhaps, their knowledge even outran our own, and in\nall probability they were not without some insight into those mysteries\nof creation, about which our philosophy of nature has within the last\nhalf century excited so much wonder and admiration. It is also probable,\nwe observed, that by their theory of numbers we are not to understand\nthe ordinary formul\u00e6 of mathematics, nor the usual arbitrary play with\nthem in which science so often indulges, but rather the development of\nthe intrinsic and divine law of nature and of life according to its\neverlasting structure and immutable foundations, or according to the\nvicissitudes of its critical times and seasons. But here it may be\nasked--whence had they all this? how, without the telescope, and with,\nat best, a very defective system of mathematics, and an imperfect art of\ncalculation, did they attain to a knowledge of the true astronomical\nsystem of the universe? To start the hypothesis, that they learned and\nborrowed it all from the Egyptians, would only be to remove the question\na step farther back, and not really to answer it. But even if we were\nto admit the fact, such an assumption would only, as regards the\nessential question with respect to the Pythagoreans and the origin of\ntheir science, increase their merits and their glory. For in the same\nway as we observed on an earlier occasion, with reference to Moses and\nthe Hebrews, it must have been by the exercise of a rare wisdom, that\nwhile they selected all that was best and most valuable in Egyptian\nscience, they rejected so much that was pernicious, and laid aside so\nmuch that was likely to lead them astray, and even the impious magical\nsuperstitions that were to be found there.\n\nIn much later times, and even down to our own days, the name of the\nPythagorean school and science has been forced to serve as a cloak for\nevery noxious farrago of mysticism, as also that of the Neo-Platonists\nhas been made the symbol of every visionary extravagance. But even if\n(what, however, I greatly doubt) an historical connection can be shown\nto subsist between the so-called Pythagoreans of later times and the\nearlier and genuine school, nothing further would follow from such a\nfact, than a confirmation of my general position. It would but furnish\nan additional proof that all that is greatest, noblest, and most\nbeautiful, when it once begins to degenerate and corrupt, invariably\nreaches a proportionate depth of corruption and degeneracy, and assumes\nthe worst and wildest aspect of deformity.\n\nAs concerns the influence of this school of life, and its political aims\nand tendencies, which were unquestionably part of the general design of\nthe Pythagorean doctrine: all this must be judged of in conformity with\nGreek notions and habits, and with reference to the unsettled and\ndisordered state of the several Grecian communities. This being granted,\nit will appear that a simple but lofty object was the basis of their\nfraternity. By forming an enlightened aristocracy of highly cultivated\nminds, of men of scientific attainments, and of pure and noble morals,\nthey hoped to establish a new and better polity, such as might check the\nreigning anarchy and revolutionary spirit of democracy, which distracted\nall the republics, whether smaller or greater, into which Greece was at\nthat time divided. But the evil had become too great, and its power was\nirresistible. But the whole enterprise failed, and its failure entailed\nthe dissolution of the Pythagorean society.\n\nMany similar views and political designs, which Plato subsequently\ningrafted on his own philosophy, in like manner remained nothing more\nthan ideas, and led to no practical result. A far more considerable\ninfluence on life and its relations was exercised by the Sophists.\nConsidered in a political point of view, they were truly and properly\npernicious demagogues, and, in the fullest sense of the term, the\nflatterers of the populace. Not only did they undermine the outward\nnational worship, with its poetical and hereditary associations, but\nalso overthrew the inward religion of good principles and of moral\nsentiments. In short, they practically taught a true moral atheism, and\nsucceeded in making it the prevailing and ruling principle in the\nconduct of life.\n\nAt this stage of Grecian philosophy, we witness, for the first time, a\nremarkable phenomenon. The true and good science which directs itself to\nthe Godlike and divine, is unable to attain to any lasting or pervading\ninfluence on the lives of men: on the other hand, we see a false and\nevil sophistic gradually gaining a complete ascendency amid the general\ndemoralization of society, and the growing anarchy of the political\ncommunity, which, thoroughly corrupt and degenerate, only rose out of\none revolution to fall immediately into another. Or, rather, this false\nsophistic, and this moral and political anarchy, were perfectly one\ntogether, so far at least as two destructive principles can ever be or\nbe brought in unison.\n\nThe complete alienation which now existed between the better science and\nlife, and especially public life, is most distinctly manifested in the\ncase of the greatest among the Grecian philosophers of later times--in\nAristotle, and the position he occupied in his own age and nation. This\nacute thinker, with the utmost care and diligence, collected together\nall the most eminent results of the science, and the most remarkable\nthoughts of earlier times. Examining and analyzing them with great\ncritical acumen, and with a comprehensive survey, he formed them into a\nnew whole, and arranged them into a system of his own, completer and\nfuller than had ever before been attempted or accomplished.\n\nWe can not, perhaps, estimate too highly or admire too much this great\nmaster of human subtilty, whether for his intellectual powers and extent\nof learning, or even as a writer. Still we must not forget that in his\nsystem were contained the germ and evident tendency to the two chief\nforms of philosophical error--naturalism on the one side, and\nrationalism on the other. And so we find that in the later times of the\nfollowing centuries, each of these false systems, according as the\noccasion favored the one or the other, were drawn out from the\nAristotelian doctrine, to receive a further and a distincter\ndevelopment. In his doctrine on the Godhead, he can least of all stand a\nsevere and rigorous criticism. And in many points, as, for instance, in\nhis notion of the absolute self-sufficiency of the reason, he\napproximates but too closely to the idealistic view which we have\nalready designated as the transition to scientific atheism.\n\nIt was only in a very remote and distant age that Aristotle attained to\na very great importance and authority. In his own day he did but form a\nvery inconsiderable school, which exercised far less influence on public\nlife than two other sects, in whose history the development of Grecian\nphilosophy finds its close.\n\nThe system of the Stoics, with its stern and, consequently,\nimpracticable theory of morals, its doctrine of absolute necessity and\nblind fatalism, announces itself at once as identical with an austere\nrationalism. At the same time, under the teaching of the Epicureans, a\nsoft and effeminate naturalism became almost universally prevalent. And\nwhile, in another and newer form, it gradually assumed the place of the\nold mythical heathenism, which daily fell more and more into neglect and\ndisrepute, it still retained the old heathen sentiment, and a careless\nand undisturbed indifference in inactive bliss and self-enjoyment, as it\nwas even ascribed and imputed to the gods, was introduced into life, and\nextolled as the true wisdom. Thus, then, while on the one hand the\nfoundation was laid for that insensibility with which the wide-spreading\nand growing corruption and the approach of the general ruin were\ncontemplated, so, on the other hand, the apathy of the Stoics was not\nexactly the right kind of sentiment to furnish a check or counteractive\nto this sybaritic indifference.\n\nAs concerns the relations of public life, the social community, and the\nstate, the Stoical doctrine appears, no doubt, in a worthier and a\nbetter light. On this account it numbered among its adherents almost all\nthe great statesmen that lived from the last times of the Republic down\nto the later centuries of the Empire. Considered, however, in\nthemselves, and scientifically regarded, both systems must be looked\nupon simply as the last chemical decomposing process, or the initiatory\nputrifying state of all higher science and philosophical reflection\namong the Greeks. On the whole, then, we conclude that Grecian science\nand philosophy have exercised no influence at all on life, or at least,\neither a very inadequate, or such as has proved radically baneful and\npernicious.\n\nBut now, in the very center of man\u2019s history--in the transition-point\nbetween the ancient and the modern world--science and life were again at\nunison, as at the beginning. And this was effected by the appearance of\na new science in another form. For most assuredly we shall not err in\ngiving this name to a new living and spiritual power, which, totally\nchanging and giving an entirely new direction to the arbitrary views,\nsentiments, and principles of public and private life, and also to the\nmodes of thinking prevalent in the age and in the world, was strong\nenough to triumph, not only over heathenism itself, but also over the\nscience and philosophy of its most enlightened nations. Now this new\nmode of thinking, which came forward in the full certainty of the most\nundoubting faith and the highest internal illumination, had, so far as\nit is right and allowable to call it a science, a very different form\nand scope from all that has previously and usually been so called. For\nit issued out of the very depths of life, and received from love--a\ndivine love, that is--its first diffusion and establishment.\nConsequently, it was a thoroughly living science, or, as being perfectly\nclear and certain in itself, a new scientific life, which, moreover,\nproceeded from this its first starting-point, was able to penetrate into\nall the other forms of public life and of the anterior systems of\nscience, and by adopting or remodeling them, give to itself therein a\nfurther and more universal development.\n\nBut here, also, the divine impulse from above encountered the usual\npartial or entire resistance from below. Accordingly, this new living\nwisdom, which, in its essence, is one with life, and which, therefore,\nthe more it is developed only unfolds this unity the more universally\nand the more immutably, was not, at the first, universally adopted, or\ndid not become every where predominant. Moreover, even where it was\nreceived, and its authority acknowledged, its reception was often little\nmore than external. It was not admitted as a living principle into all\nthe depths of the soul, or impressed on all the habits and tendencies\nof the mind [_geist_]. And even where, in some degree at least, it was\nadopted in the inner man with full and sincere love, it was often\nnothing more than an undeveloped germ of the future and of a higher\nlife. Isolated by itself, and standing apart, it remained shut up within\nthe inmost bosom, without at the same time penetrating, reanimating, and\ngiving a new life and shape to all the other life-elements of the\nconsciousness and the productions of human science.\n\nThus, then, it was only too possible for error to find its entrance even\nhere also. And it is remarkable that both its principal forms, such as\nin varying shapes the history of philosophy is constantly presenting to\nus in the different epochs of its progress, here again most distinctly\npresent themselves with all the features of their intellectual\nphysiognomy plainly marked, and with the still more obvious contrast of\ntheir intrinsic diversity. A philosophy of nature more or less visionary\nand fanciful was the common basis of the various Gnostic sects. With\ntheir long series of imaginary emanations from the Deity, resembling in\nno slight degree the old heathen genealogies of the gods, they would,\nhad they triumphed, have converted Christianity into a similar\nmythology, though of a more philosophical character. In the Arians, on\nthe contrary, and other kindred sects before and after them, we\nrecognize rather the spirit of rationalism, which, dwelling on some\npoint of life, or theory, with a show of rigor and accuracy, while,\napparently, it disputes only about words, is, in fact, undermining the\nfoundation of the most essential ideas.\n\nAll these parties, however, as they originated, so they also\ndisappeared, within the first five or eight centuries of our era. It\nwas, therefore, impossible for their pernicious influence to gain a deep\nhold of life. At least it was neither universal nor permanent. Yet by\nthem the ardor of a first love was cooled. And sad, indeed, has been the\nloss as regards the fullness of living energy, and even in respect of\nprofounder wisdom.\n\nThe history of the middle ages again presents a rare and singular\nphenomenon. One great mind and writer of antiquity, whose influence in\nhis own day was far from extensive, became at this date, in a most\nremarkable manner, the problem and center of scientific inquiry. For\nseveral centuries the human mind was laboriously engaged in disputing\nabout the philosophy of Aristotle. And although men did not understand\nit--not, at least, its deeper meaning, for they lacked the first and\nmost essential qualifications, and also the requisite means for such a\npurpose--this apparently aimless disputation, and this unsolved problem,\nwas, nevertheless, not without great and manifold influence on their own\nand the following ages. It has had a permanent effect on the whole frame\nof man\u2019s life and being.\n\nOf the two wholly different aspects which, as we have already so often\nremarked, the philosophy of Aristotle presents, it was probably not its\nfruits of rationalism (for, at this period, such were generally regarded\nas forbidden) that throughout the great part of the then civilized world\nexcited so incredible a fondness for this all-absorbing and\nall-understanding system. Its attraction lay rather in some great and\nmysterious knowledge of nature. And the desire for these intellectual\ntreasures was not a little heightened by the fact, that, in general,\nthey were inaccessible.\n\nIn the little intercourse subsisting, at this period, between distant\nnations and lands, and the almost total separation of the East from the\nWest, it was only through the Arabic versions, or Latin translations\nmolded again upon these, that any knowledge of this philosophy could be\ndrawn. This must have led, it is obvious, to a wide deviation from the\ntrue sense and critical spirit of the author. Its original aim must have\nbeen generally missed. For, however highly we may be disposed to\nestimate the intellectual merits of the Arabians, as writers of their\nnative history, or in poetry, or in any other science, they are\nnotoriously deficient in the true critical spirit. Their total and\nuniversal want, in this respect, is especially evident when they are\ncompared with the Greeks, among whom this critical acuteness, whether\nfalse or true, sprung up and reached its greatest height.\n\nStrange, no doubt, and singular is it at first sight, to view this old\nmaster of philosophical thought and science, who, on the whole, is so\nperfectly heathen, suddenly received among the medieval theologians, and\ntaking, as it were, his seat, and giving his voice among them. Still, if\nmen of great mental powers and authority sought to make themselves\nmasters of the whole matter--both of the much-disputed works of this\nwriter, this Aristotle, so strangely disguised in his new motley dress\nof Arabic Latin, and also of the voluminous labors bestowed upon\nhim--we must look upon this procedure as analogous to that of the\nthoughtful physician, who, in the midst of a wide-spread pestilence and\ninevitable contagion, prefers to inoculate it himself, in order the more\nsafely to treat and to cure it. In short, as the case really stands, we\nmust look on these illustrious men in two distinct lights. On the one\nhand we must see in them the Church\u2019s venerable teachers, and the\nsagacious and discriminating theologians of the day; on the other, the\nscholastic interpreters of Aristotle, who had now become a necessary\nevil for the Christian middle ages.\n\nThis, however, and whatever else was the matter and object of such\nsubtile disputes, was too soon forgotten. In these scholastic contests,\nafter the fashion of the day, the combatants, horse and man, were armed\n_cap-a-pi\u00e8_, incased and disguised in logical coats of mail, composed of\ncountless rings of thought and chains of ideas. With this heavy panoply,\nthe great object was to heave their antagonist out of the saddle. Often\nthey recoiled from the shock without advantage on either side--so\nequally matched were they in their good lances and the weight of their\narmor--and often they swerved from the charge. Mostly, however, both of\nthe philosophical knights found themselves, at the end of the strife, at\ntheir old station in the lists, or driven back, perhaps, to their\noriginal entry. This scholastic philosophy, in the form it now took, of\na highly elaborate art of logical tourney in the philosophical schools,\nwas, undoubtedly, an abiding evil in the age that immediately followed,\nand furnished an important element to the party disputes of later, and\nto the rationalism of these latest times.\n\nThe overthrow of the Grecian empire and the discovery of the new world,\nsuddenly and at once introduced into Western Europe vast and varied\ntreasures of historical, physical, and philosophical knowledge. In this\nbrilliant epoch of the fifteenth century, a new world of thought was, as\nit were, laid open. A new era of science would have been founded, and a\nveritable reformation of the whole Christian life must have ensued, had\nnot the moral corruption and the political disorders of the period been\ngross beyond description. But for all this, how much is there to admire\nin the Platonic writers of the fifteenth century, among whom Germany,\nafter Italy, produced the most famous and the greatest number? When we\ntake up, even now, any one of their works, and contemplate therein\ntheir comprehensive liberal pursuit of science, their mild, antique\nspirit, their noble form, and their quick recognition of the beautiful,\nwe can not turn from them without regret to that new state of barbarism\ninto which, during the sixteenth and part also of the seventeenth\ncentury, science was plunged by the rampant spirit of party and\ncontroversy.\n\nAt last, however, peace and quiet returned again to Christian lands and\nstates, and slowly, and by degrees, to the minds also of men. And now\nwas it, in the eighteenth century, and especially toward the middle of\nit, that out of this apparent and superficial peace, a new science, or a\nnew light, or at least a new diffusion of it, seemed ready to arise.\nSimply regarded in a scientific point of view, this philosophical\nendeavor of the eighteenth century, and the most memorable of the\nsystems to which it gave rise, occupied our attention in the very\nopening of these Lectures. Here the immediate object of our\nconsideration is not this new science itself, whether true or false, but\nrather the influence on the age, and on life in general, of this modern\nmode of thinking, as generally diffused and prevalent.\n\nMuch, undoubtedly, has been discovered or newly learned in the natural\nsciences and in the domain of history; many too have been the bold\nventures, at least, and novel essays in philosophy. This new wisdom,\nmoreover, was taught and disseminated far more universally than ever\nbefore had been the case; while even the agreeable feeling produced by\nthe moderation of the intellectual spirit now prevalent, greatly\npromoted its wide and rapid diffusion. But at a later period this\nenlightenment, so rapidly and so widely diffused, which, moreover, was\ntaken only in a negative sense, was soon recognized to be unsatisfactory\nand superficial, while also the theory of popular liberty and\nindependence which was grafted thereon, and claimed, or at least wished\nto be rational, bore the bitterest and worst of fruits.\n\nIn short, to speak most leniently of it, the whole was nothing less than\nthe undigested scheme of an immature and imperfect knowledge, brought\ninto the world before its time. Accordingly, its rash and precipitate\ncourse in the last age, whose history is unparalleled in the annals of\nthe whole world, together with the fearful catastrophe which it has\nbrought about, opened the eyes of men to the fearful abyss to which such\na precipitate abuse of science had hurried them. And, in consequence,\nthinking men of the highest endowments and the richest intellectual\ngifts among different nations, have in many ways nobly devoted\nthemselves to the work of restoration in sentiment, in thought, and in\nscience.\n\nBut on the one hand, the first elements of the former destructive\nprinciple appear to be still existing, even though it be in less obvious\nand more pliable and disguised forms. On the other hand again, the\ncorrected mode of thinking, and the better tone of sentiment and\nscience, is for the most part confined merely to a more chastened\noutward form. Scarcely any where as yet is it carried far enough back,\nup to the profoundest sources of spiritual life, up to the primal origin\nand veritable foundation of the divine and of the eternally good.\n\nAnd yet this is exactly the problem of our age, and herein alone shall\nwe find the solution of the great enigma of the times. For from this\nhasty review of the whole course of the intellectual development of\nhumanity, from its beginning to its close, the result, for the sake of\nand with a view to which alone I ventured so cursorily and in such faint\noutline to sketch all the leading epochs of the history of philosophy,\nmust at least be evident. As in the beginning, and in the center\nthereof, science and life lovingly co-operated together and were fully\nin unison; and as in the intermediate epochs and intervals among the\nGreeks in civilized antiquity, and in the middle ages among ourselves,\nthey became more and more estranged, so at the end will they be at one\nagain. And already, even in our own days, every thing is tending to\nbring about such a consummation. But who shall say whether it shall be\nin a good or an evil sense? Ere long, life shall either, under the\ninfluence of the true and good and divine knowledge, be again restored,\npermanently regulated, and receive a new shape and fresh vigor, or, by a\nfalse and delusive science, be completely destroyed, and involved in\neternal ruin.\n\nHaving, in this hasty review, considered, under its historical aspect,\nthe problem of the relation of science--the true and divine, as well as\nthe false and delusive--to both private and public life, it now remains\nfor us to examine and to answer this same question from the side of\ntheory. Regarded from this point of view, it would appear that whenever\nscience fails to exercise an influence on life, or when they withdraw\nand are estranged one from the other, the fact may be always accounted\nfor and explained by accidental causes and purely local influences, such\nas have their origin in the several periods of the world\u2019s history, or\nflow from certain imperfections on one side or the other. For,\nconsidered in itself, science in general is nothing but this unity of\nthought and life, and consequently its living operation and influence\nare involved in the very idea of a higher science, provided only it be\ntrue and properly regulated. Either, therefore, science is life elevated\ninto a thought, and consequently transformed into a thinking, or else it\nis a thought carried into reality, that has passed and been transmuted\ninto life, and therein fully attested and certified by life\nitself--consequently a thinking become life.\n\nNow, according to this view, that science consists in the mutual\napproximation to, and the final attainment of, a perfect unity between\nthought and life, there are three degrees of it, according to that\ntriple gradation and threefold principle which exists in the human\nconsciousness. The first of these, then, is reflection. And this,\nunderstood in a somewhat profounder acceptation than ordinarily, is an\ninternal feeling, hearing, or seeing of one\u2019s own thinking. Consequently\nit is a perception similar to that of the senses, by means of which the\nunseen thought is in some degree projected and introduced into external\nreality. But this act of reflection is nothing more than a passive state\nof the soul in its internal observation of itself. So long as it remains\nconfined to this narrow sphere, it perpetually revolves in the same\norbit, and, properly speaking, produces no ulterior results of a\nknowledge fruitful and applicable to actual and outward life.\n\nThe second degree or moment of science is abstraction, by virtue of\nwhich, from the complete sum of all the criteria and characteristics of\nan object, or, rather, of a thought, some one is prominently set forth\nas the most essential, and for the sake of communication designated by a\nname. For all communication and language is based on this faculty of\nabstraction, which is itself an arbitrary act of the free will. But\nalthough by this naming, generalization, and communication, the internal\nthought is advanced a step farther into the external world and the\nliving reality among and with others, still the reality of the thought\nis by no means satisfactorily established thereby. For this very liberty\nin the choice of name, of combination, and of general classification,\nopens a wide field for caprice. This is evident enough from the\ncountless multitude of terminologies, so needlessly invented and so\nrapidly thrown into oblivion, which form so many remote and mutually\nunintelligible philosophical dialects, in the ever-repeated attempt to\nbuild methodically the Babel tower of philosophical system. For these\ndesignations of abstract thoughts, even when they are most felicitous,\nfail to win the concurrence of others, and do but open a door to endless\ndialectical disputation.\n\nThus, then, neither reflection, which is eternally revolving within the\nnarrow orbit of our inward self, nor empty abstraction, though it strays\nat pleasure over the spacious realm of the possible, can lead us to the\ndesired end of perfect certainty or veritable science. It is alone the\npractical carrying out into real life of a speculative thought, that can\nbring it to the conclusion of perfection of certainty, and to a complete\nand true science. Now I should prefer to designate this its highest\ngrade by the notion and name of _consequence_. But by this term, I must\nbe understood as meaning not merely a correct logical enchainment of\nideas, but pre-eminently a faithfully-worked-out _consequence_ or\nconsistency of sentiment and life, _i.e._, a perseverance in good. At\nthe same time, it must ever be remembered, that the evil principle,\nalthough it often makes a boast of possessing this quality, does so only\nin appearance, and never in this true sense. On the contrary, torn to\npieces by conflicting passions in its inmost being, it is really in the\nhighest degree inconsequent, as acting in direct opposition to its\nbeginning and origin, which, like all other created beings, it took and\nreceived from God.\n\nTruly consequent or consistent a man can not be except in the truth,\n_i.e._, in Him out of whom all truth, and from whom all existence is\nderived and flows--in other words, in God. Science, therefore, is an\n_applied_ thinking, _i.e._, one that has passed into life, and thereby\nbecome real and certain; and it is only on the road of practice, by its\nactual carrying out or _real_ manifestation, that it can attain to its\nhighest degree, and that the truth of an idea or speculative thought can\nbe satisfactorily attested.\n\nThe ideas, according to the original sense of the term, are even the\nself-existing thoughts of a higher life, as distinct both from the\nsimple facts of the consciousness in the domain of reflection, and from\nthe arbitrary forms of thought set up by empty abstraction. And though\neven here as elsewhere, a false, sickly, or a null and illusory life,\nmay be substituted for that which is true, still this applies only to\nthe form of the living idea, as contrasted with the sensuous semblance\nor the dead notion. For, that an idea is truly divine, can only be\nproved by this quality of consequence--by its divine influence and\neffect on life.\n\nOn the other hand, many philosophical thinkers have somewhat erroneously\nindicated the intrinsic certainty of philosophical thought by the name\nand under the form of an intellectual intuition, and thereby given\noccasion to manifold misconceptions. But if in all the fullness of the\nconception already advanced of the eternal truth, and of Him who is its\nsum and source, we were really able to be sentinent of and to feel the\ndivine life--to hear and audibly to perceive the eternal Word and\nactually to see the holy Light, such a spiritual intuition of God\u2019s\nglory and majesty would be far more appropriate for the future than for\nthe present world. And even though we may and can admit it to be\nconceivable, as given from above, still a communication of it would be\nimpossible, and, consequently, could not be available for the ordinary\npurpose of giving a philosophical foundation to any human system. Under\nthis form, then, of a so-called intellectual intuition, if it be really\nsuch, and not rather a mere form of abstract thought under another and\nan assumed name, speculative science would consequently assume the\ncharacter of a questionable vision, and a possible mental delusion. For\na full internal satisfaction and certainty--so far at least as these are\nattainable by man--even in the case that they are the sign and the proof\nthat this intuition, or perception of the divine light actually took\nplace, can only be furnished by that quality of consequence already\ndescribed as belonging to every thought and cognition which is founded\nin God. And to this character of consequence or consistency, the\ncondition of agreement with every other idea or revelation already\nacknowledged to be divine, belongs naturally as the irrefragable law of\njudgment and of life.\n\nThat full and correct conception of eternal truth which has been\ndeveloped by us in the ninth Lecture as the living _idea_ of the Supreme\nBeing is unquestionably the fundamental speculative notion and the\ninternal spiritual basis on which every other higher science, that has\nany pretensions to the qualities of permanence and consequence which\nbelong to right-thinking and to immutable truth, is subsequently\nraised, or, in other words, it is the source from which it abidingly\nflows. In the three subsequent Lectures, however, the subject has been\nmostly scientific, speculative, and metaphysical, though throughout\naccompanied with historical illustrations drawn from the development of\nthe human mind. And here, accordingly, a reference to the science or\ndiscipline of logic is every where supposed.\n\nNow, in the form in which this science or discipline has come down to us\nfrom the Greeks, there is much that is rather an accident than a part of\nits essence, and whose presence must be accounted for by some special\nand local necessity. With no people before or since has rhetoric enjoyed\nso commanding an influence as with the Greeks, and with none also has\nthe sophistic art produced such great and such pernicious effects.\nAccordingly, they found it necessary to devote to the analysis of all\nits arts, delusions, and tortuous windings, and also to the development\nof the dialectical means for their detection and refutation, a\ndisproportionate degree of attention, which is neither necessary for us\nnor practically useful.\n\nThe Hindoos, likewise, have from the most ancient times possessed a\nscientific system of logic. Indeed it has even been said, that\nAristotle, having received from Alexander the Great some of their\nlogical treatises, borrowed from them his own system, or, at least,\nmolded it after them. But from the reasons just adduced, I am disposed\nto think that, in all probability, the Hindoo logic was much simpler\nthan the Grecian, where the simple end of truth, and the great\ndesideratum of a correct standard thereof, was lost sight of amid an\noverminute analysis, and the mazes of an endless subdivision of notions.\n\nIn the routine of our school education logic might, perhaps, be made a\nhighly profitable study if only it were combined with and made to bear\nupon the history of the gradual development of human thought, and\nespecially the theory of language. And then, since thought and speech\nare so intimately allied to and dependent on each other, it would be\nadvisable to go a step farther, and extend our logical studies to the\ntheory of imagination, symbolical language and its fundamental rules.\n\nIn a scientific education, too, a logic of the memory (if we may be\nallowed the expression) would in all probability be highly useful. For\nan established law and disposition of our thoughts would greatly\nfacilitate the exercise of memory, and as furnishing rules for the\npractice, or generally as an exercise of that faculty, would form an\nexcellent basis for scientific education. For the conduct of life,\nindeed, there is nothing so important or so desirable as a right logic\nof the conscience, which should detect all the internal delusions of\negoism and the still more subtile sophistry of selfishness in every\npoint where the question lies between the righteous truth and a latent\nfalsehood. And this is intimately connected with, or at least leads\ndirectly to, the notion of the sound reason which requires before all\nthings a conscientious susceptibility of the truth.\n\nBut a logic applicable to this higher science must be understood in a\nfar more comprehensive sense than is ordinarily done. And this is even\nwhat we have here attempted to furnish. Logic in general is conversant\nabout three objects: the notion, the judgment, and the conclusion. But\nit ought also to possess a general fundamental rule and regulative\nstandard of truth, so far as this is attainable. But inasmuch as in this\ndomain the eternal is simply one, so also for this higher science one\nnotion properly is sufficient; as also one judgment which comprises all\nothers, and one conclusion which completes the whole, is sufficient. The\nact of understanding has been explained to be the completion of the\nnotion; and the full and complete apprehension of the eternal truth, or\nof Him who is the sum of all verities, was the subject-matter of our\nninth treatise. The act of discerning was explained to be the completion\nof the judgment; and this perfect judgment, which decides and\ndistinguishes between truth and error, was the theme of our tenth\ndisquisition. Science, however, is the perfection of all thinking, and\nin its actual operation, as applied to life, and in itself carried to a\nconclusion, is one with it. Now this was the end to which the present\ndiscussion and development was intended to lead; while the further\nprosecution of it and its reference to the several spheres and domains\nof existence must be reserved to the following discourses.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XII.\n\nOF THE SYMBOLICAL NATURE AND CONSTITUTION OF LIFE WITH REFERENCE TO ART\nAND THE MORAL RELATIONS OF MAN.\n\n\nHow difficult it generally is for man to express his internal\nconceptions, to bring out the indwelling idea and to realize its perfect\nexternal manifestation, is shown, for example, among other instances, by\nthe fine arts, or the art of the beautiful. For this reason the theory\nof the latter, the so-called \u00e6sthetics (which, however, might far more\ncorrectly be termed symbolism), forms the natural pendant and\naccompaniment to logic, if the latter, instead of being limited, as is\nusual, to the mere art of distinguishing the different kinds of notions,\nis understood in a far higher sense, and referred to eternal, and,\nconsequently, divine truth, and to its intrinsic and equally divine\nstandard. For when the question no longer involves a purely material or\nsimply subjective verity, but that which is more exalted and heavenly,\nthen beauty (that, namely, about which art is conversant, and which, far\nsurpassing all that is merely human, pretends and really ought to be\ndivine and supernatural) forms the other and symbolical aspect of one\nand the same eternal truth. And indeed it is neither separable from it\nnor opposed to it, so long as art maintains its high standing and\nemploys the sensual charm which it requires for the lively expression of\nvitality, and its outward manifestation, only as a symbol and for the\nsake of that higher significance which she herself lends to it, and does\nnot seek nor admire it for its own sake, nor sees therein the\nfulfillment of its own true end and aim.\n\nBut by far the greater number of the productions of art are only\nrepetitions or copies of some previous realization. And I use this term,\nnot in its usual depreciatory sense, but rather in one that is\napplicable to what are truly artistic productions but still only\nsuccessful formations at second-hand. Extremely rare, indeed, are the\noriginal expressions or impressions of an indwelling, unborrowed idea\nAnd even among these very many are nothing more than the first faint\noutline and commencement, which only at a subsequent epoch of art, and\nafter long and repeated essays, attains to complete perfection and a\nreally successful and veritable outward exhibition of the indwelling\nidea. For we must ever consider as an idea that inward object which art\nin its external manifestations strives to realize, and which in its\ncreations ought to stand out, as it were, bodily before us.\n\nEven in music (as the expression of the emotions of the soul in their\nflow and change, and in the struggle with inharmonious discords, till at\nlast they finally dissolve in harmony) it is not so much the immediate\nfeeling--for this would be no more artistic than the mere cry of\npassion--as rather the idea of it that the artist has in his mind, and\nthat forms the subject of his representations. The musician strives to\nrepresent the whole idea--the beautiful and the marvelous in the whole\nprogress of its development. Following the inmost life-pulse in its\nalternate rising and falling, he labors to give its unexpected\ntransitions up to their sudden harmony or its repetitions of still\nincreasing pitch up to a full and soothing close, or (if this is\ndesignedly to be left unattained) up to the abrupt and painful breaking\noff or gradual dying away and cessation of the plaintive note or the\ntone of ardent longing.\n\nAnd the same is the case with sculpture. But here we would premise the\nremark, that the principle with which we set out, of the triple nature\nand division of man\u2019s being, is confirmed by the existence of a\ncorresponding order and diversity in the fine arts. Among the arts,\naccordingly, whose object is the manifestation of the beautiful, music\nis pre-eminently the art for the soul, while sculpture is for the most\npart corporeal.\n\nNow, in sculpture it is not any actual figure or the body itself that\nthe artist has in view. It is the general idea thereof that constitutes\nthe subject-matter of his representations. He seeks to portray its most\nperfect structure, its full organic development, its exquisite\ncorrectness of symmetry and sublime beauty of form. And to all this even\nthe expression of character and passion is in a certain degree\nsubordinate. And exactly because the external medium which it employs,\nbecause the material mass on which its internal conceptions are to be\nstamped, or, rather, out of which they are to be worked, is the\ninanimate stone and cold marble, therefore does true sculpture aim at a\nhigher excellence than the uniformity and death-like repose which\ncharacterize the Egyptian statues of the gods. It seeks rather to\ntriumph by copying with the most marvelous truth and fidelity the living\nframe in its most rapid movements, and life in its most violent\nstruggles, and by seizing its fleeting graces to fix them forever in its\nown imperishable creations.\n\nIn truth, the imitation of actual reality, however difficult and in\nitself worthy of admiration it may be, does not constitute the aim or\nobject, or generally the principle of sculpture, any more than of any\nother art. A remarkable proof of this is afforded by the fact that\ncolor, with all its charms, is excluded from the plastic art and its\nembodied manifestations as too meretricious and too closely allied to\nreality. For by such an expedient, not less than by the use of ingenious\nmechanism to give motion to the limbs, the artistic ideal, or the images\nof the gods, would have degenerated into the puppets of children.\n\nReality, therefore, with its actual shapes and the delusive imitation\nand servile copying of them, is in nowise the proper or immediate object\nof the plastic art. Even beauty of form is not always, not at least\nsolely and exclusively its aim; it is only so accidentally and\nrelatively, as a condition of the expression of character, of external\nstates, and of the total significance. Always and universally it is a\nthought, the _idea_ of some subject or form as the inner sense and\nsignificance thereof, that constitutes the essence of a work of art, and\nwith which art in general is concerned. In other words, art is\nsymbolical. And this may be predicated with equal truth of every higher\nart, as well as of sculpture, whatever may be the medium of its\nmanifestations, whether a statue, or tone as in music, or words as in\npoetry. It is exactly this that constitutes the difference between high\nart and every other which, however closely allied to it in appearance,\nhas some ulterior and practical object, and which therefore can not be\nsymbolical.\n\nOf this kind, for instance, is the difference between rhetoric (which\nmost assuredly is an art, or at least was exclusively treated as such by\nthe Greeks) and poetry. And it is of the utmost importance to keep this\ndistinction constantly in view. For exactly in the same degree that it\nis neglected is the proper character and true excellency of the higher\nart of the beautiful lost sight of. And a right estimate of the other\narts which have an ulterior and practical object would also be\nendangered. An orator who with the greatest command of practical and\nimaginative language is nevertheless devoid of convincing logical power\nto sway the minds of men by his arguments, and to bend them irresistibly\nto his purpose, would exercise but little influence; while no heavier\ncensure can be passed on one who sets up for a poet, than to affirm of\nhim, that he possesses and understands nothing but the rhetoric of\npassion, without--though such further qualification is evidently\nsuperfluous--true poetry.\n\nOf the fine arts, therefore, which, employing a material medium for\ntheir representations, possess an ideal and symbolical significance,\nmusic is the art of the soul, and sculpture is that of corporeal form,\nand of the manifestation of the true idea of organic beauty. But among\nthe three sister arts, painting is the true spiritual one. As the light,\nwith its ceaseless variety of tints and hues, is the most spiritual\nelement of nature, and as the eye is the most spiritual of man\u2019s senses,\nso painting, as concerned about these, is the most spiritual of the\narts, and the one with which the symbolical spirit readily associates\nitself. Painting directs itself wholly to the eye, whereas sculpture\nappeals indeed to the eye, but only as the necessary medium for\nsatisfying the corporeal sense and feeling.\n\nBut painting, in its manifestations, does not confine itself to abstract\nbeauty (if we may so say) or the perfect structure and symmetry of form.\nIt embraces all the eye can reach in the visible phenomena of the world,\nwith all its wonderful play of light and shade and magical splendor of\ncoloring, where not only the whole, but the several parts--in a word,\nall that in many and various ways is charming to the senses, attractive\nto the eye with ever new wonders, and all that to the mind or spirit is\nfull of deep spiritual and symbolical significance. And for this reason\nthe wonderful art of painting is even the most appropriate, shall I say\nto exhibit, or rather to suggest, the high mysteries of divine love in\nreligion and revelation. No wonder, then, if, in modern Christendom,\nmusic and painting, the art or symbolism of soul and spirit, have been\nchiefly cultivated, and attained their highest development and\nperfection, whereas the art of the perfect development of organic form\nand corporeal and sensual beauty, reached its height of excellence in\nthe sculpture of classical antiquity, which in the same way and degree\nwill never again be paralleled, or at least will never be surpassed.\n\nIt appears sufficient if we assume that there are only three symbolical\narts for the higher manifestation of the beautiful. For architecture,\nalthough in various ways bound and modified by the conditions of some\nulterior design, is, nevertheless, in its principal features closely\nrelated to sculpture, and stands on the same line with it. For beauty of\nstructure, correctness of proportion, and grace of symmetry, which form\nthe fundamental laws of the plastic art, constitute also the ideal of\narchitecture. Accordingly, among the Greeks and Romans, where the latter\nattained to its highest and richest cultivation, its principles,\nrelations, and forms approximate to those of organic figure, to which\nthey are not indeed outwardly in their structure, but in a certain\ndegree and according to their internal constitution, similar and\ncorrespondent, or at least related.\n\nEgyptian architecture, with its predominantly mathematical character,\nand the tree-like Gothic aspiring to heaven, with its slender shafts and\nfloral decorations, form the two extremes of this organic character\nwhich belongs to architecture, and which constitutes it one and the same\nart with sculpture. For the structures of the former environ and\nsurround the creations of the latter. And it is only consistent that\nthat which supplies the legitimate sphere and the natural medium for the\nother properly exhibitive art of sculpture and its statues of the gods,\nshould even possess or acquire a similarity of character with it. As to\nthe Egyptian and Gothic architectures, the remark readily suggests\nitself that the symbolical character displays itself predominantly in\nthem: purity of form, however, is the prevalent feature of the _antique_\n(or Grecian), but even here in its proportions the symbolical principle\nmay be traced, although it is more recondite, not to say concealed.\n\nEven poetry is no fourth art alongside of the other three. It does not\nstand on the same line with and form, as it were, the complement of\ntheir number. It is rather the universal symbolical art which comprises\nand combines in different mediums all those other exhibitive arts of the\nbeautiful. In its rhythm and other metrical aids it possesses all the\ncharms of a music in words; in its figurative diction it maintains an\nendless succession of shifting pictures in the vivid coloring of\ndiversified illustration; while in its entire structure (which must be\nneither purely historical, nor logical, or even rhetorical) it strives\nto attain, by a beautiful organic development and disposition of its\nparts, to an arrangement of the whole both architecturally great and\ncorrect.\n\nPoetry owes in every instance its first creative beginning to some great\nand singular ray of light from symbolical tradition, which, at the same\ntime, illuminates the noble and memorable past, and points forward to\nthe dark and mystical future. For it would be difficult to produce one\namong the great epic poems of antiquity that does not contain this\npoetico-prophetic element, and does not touch upon the profound\nmysteries of both worlds. The next and middle step is occupied by the\npoetry of sentiment and feeling--that music of the soul or poesy of song\nin which the calm deep longings and the wild tearing passions of the\nmoment, once plunged and glorified in that immortal element, become\neternal. But the height of perfection in the organic development of\npoetry is marked by the drama. This third and highest form of poetical\nart has for its subject-matter the whole struggle of human life, which\nin its vivid representations it aims to realize, and, as it were, to\nbring bodily before our eyes.\n\nThere exists an obvious analogy between the several constituents, as\nwell as the different species or kinds of poetry and the three\n_material_ arts of the beautiful. As the latter are symbolical\nthroughout in the subject no less than in the manner and design of their\nmanifestations, so also, but in a far higher degree, is poetry, as the\nart which embraces all the three in its own sphere. And this was the end\nto which I wished to arrive, inasmuch as the symbolical significance of\nthe whole of life is the very point which at present claims our\nattention. For it bears intimately on the conclusion which I attempted\nto establish in my last Lecture. It was there my endeavor to prove that\nthe supreme science, which is essentially identical with a divine faith,\nmay be actually applied to life, be really brought in unison with it,\nand become transformed into a living and real existence. But this can\nonly be accomplished by a symbolical process, or in other words, the\nsymbolical signification of life is either itself the basis, or else an\nindispensable condition of, and inevitable transition-point toward, such\na union and its accomplishment.\n\nBut in the arts which portray the beautiful, this symbolical\nsignificance and property is most distinctly prominent; here it is most\neasily understood and most universally recognized. On this account I\nhave chosen this subject, as forming the natural transition and\nconnecting link between the previous and the following Lectures. No\ndoubt the \u00e6sthetical portion of man\u2019s constitution and life is in itself\nsufficiently remarkable and attractive, and rich and important enough in\nits effects and consequences, to vindicate for itself such an episode,\nand to claim for it a place in philosophical speculation. For it shows\nthat that fundamental law of psychological science and triple principle\nof division of the human consciousness into spirit, soul, and sense,\nadmits also of application in this domain also, and may serve to confirm\nthe whole theory and way of thinking. The further prosecution, however,\nof this elementary view or sketch of art would carry me beyond my\npresent limits. For the aim of that philosophy of which I am attempting\nto give an exposition is directed to life itself--as well the inner life\nof the individual as the public life (and in the present place, also,\nits symbolical relation or signification)--which is so inseparably and\nintimately connected with the investigation into the divine foundation\nof life and the divine direction which ought to be imparted to it.\n\nIt can easily be shown that education as well as art is essentially\nsymbolical. Such, indeed, must be the character of the education,\nwhether public or private, of the whole rising generation, unless it is\nto degenerate into an ordinary mechanical system. And it is even in this\nquality principally that we are disposed to place the distinction\nbetween an unspiritual education, which, even though in the sternness of\nits morality it may defy censure, yet eventually proves barren and\nmortal, and one more solid and more conformable to human nature, which,\nless pretending in the outset, is even the more lasting in its effects.\n\nThe ready susceptibility of the youthful mind for every thing symbolical\nthat lies within its reach, and its vivid perception of its meaning,\nmight be clearly enough shown by instancing some of the ordinary\namusements of boyhood and youth. How commonly, in these years, are the\nvarious occupations, pursuits, and circumstances of real and, to them,\nstill future life, childishly, perhaps, but still ingeniously imitated,\nor, rather, anticipated! And how lasting an influence does this\nfrequently make on their little society! What various but lasting traces\ndoes it often leave on their minds, more perhaps than many hours of\nstudy, especially if in the latter the usual system of overloading the\nyoung mind defeats its own end. Play, indeed, must not become the mere\npastime of idleness, for it is only by its alternation with labor and\nthe sternness of discipline that it continues to be a recreation and a\npleasure.\n\nAnd, indeed, the earnestness, the labor, and the sterner part in this\nwhole business and matter of education, as mixed and composed of two\nopposite elements, of the serious and the sportive, is highly capable of\nreceiving so spiritual a reference and vital a significance. And if all\neducation be nothing else than a preparation for the future, and the\nstate of this preparation, then it must be self-evident that too many or\nenough of such vivid references and spiritual allusions to a future\nlife, either generally or to any particular phase of it that may chiefly\nbe had in view, can not be introduced into education and its serious and\nsportive elements and pursuits. For it is only by this method that the\nsusceptibilities of youth and the youthful fancy can be vividly excited\nand thoroughly impressed with the fundamental design and significance of\nthe whole of life--a result which no mere dry definition of the future\nstate, or generally of any \u201cdestination of man\u201d on the dusty road of\nlogic, will ever attain to.\n\nIt is nowise singular if this symbolical property and disposition of\nhuman nature announces itself as distinctly in the earliest development\nand in the most perfect of the productions of artistic genius, whether\nwe take into consideration the whole existing state of mankind, or his\noriginal and essential constitution relatively to the world and to God.\nWe have already remarked, on more than one occasion, that man, as soon\nas he was deprived of those higher faculties which he had abused to his\nruin, fell thereby more entirely than would seem originally to have been\nthe case, under the dominion of figurative fancy, and that,\nconsequently, his whole nature and consciousness became greatly changed\nfrom what it was at the beginning. If man did at the very first possess\nthe faculty and the power to communicate his thoughts to others inwardly\nby a mere operation of his will, and without having recourse to the\nexternal medium of words, he no longer enjoys this privilege; and if any\nwonderful phenomena in any way resembling thereto be now found, they\nonly form so many remarkable exceptions, instead of making the rule of\nhuman life and consciousness as they now are. As at present\nconstituted, man feels that his state is pre-eminently symbolical: he\nsees in symbolism a necessary requirement for his earthly pursuits--a\nsubstitute for those immediate powers of cogitation which he has lost.\nAnd all this is true, independently of any use he may freely choose to\nmake of symbols for the higher purposes of spiritual life.\n\nMan, at the beginning, was placed on this earth as its first-born son,\nin the midst of the telluric universe, or, in other words, in the center\nof a planetary world akin to and similar to his own. Now, whatever may\nbe the case, or whatever it may be allowable to think of any other of\nthe starry spheres--though in the invisible world of spirits all perhaps\nis more immediately full of and instinct with essence, and is not veiled\nin material emblems, this is not the case with this earth. Terrestial\nnature, in all its organic productions and warring elements of life, is\nthroughout symbolical. Man, therefore, viewed from this position of his\nearthly habitation, is surrounded by a symbolical world of sensuous\nemblems. And if we can, or, rather, if we will, believe the grand\nintimation with which revelation opens, the first and highest\ndestination of man is even symbolical--to be the Divine image.\n\nIf, now, all the natural wants and properties of man are symbolical--if\nsuch be his present state in the midst of creation--his whole position\nin the mundane system, and his high and heavenly destination, can we,\nor, rather, ought we, to wonder if even religion presents itself for the\nmost part clothed in a symbolical garb? For this is the case, not merely\nwith that which was the wild upgrowth of a poetical and purely\nimaginative heathenism, but also the old, original, and pure religion of\nnature--as the first love devoting itself for sacrifice--the second\nrevelation of God. And so we find it to have been in the old world, or,\nas it is otherwise called, the old covenant. Here the first twilight of\nfaith was yet studded with all the starry splendor of the whole\nsymbolical creation, as it were with the brilliant diadem of nature\u2019s\nmost glorious images. And even the new era of the ascending and\nbrightening dawn still bears on its front the glittering morning-star of\nart.\n\nBut now, if still retaining the same figure, or, rather, borrowing from\nit a contrast, we proceed to designate art in and by itself, we may\njustly compare it to the moon, which illumines with its vague but\nmarvelous _half-light_ the domain of night and the dark realms of\ncreative fancy. Even here it is but a borrowed splendor from the true\nsun, a reflection from another and a higher luminary, that lights up the\ndarkness. And while all the wonderful starry types of the spiritual\nworld, which retire in the full day, come out in this magical twilight,\nso also deceptive phantoms, airy forms of gigantic magnitude, may mingle\nwith the hovering and misty troop of shadows to which the earth-born\nvapors alone give birth and shape. And yet, notwithstanding this earthly\nintermixture, the art of the beautiful, whenever it retains its true\nnature, is in its essence directed to the divine. Consequently it not\nonly lends an external charm to religion, but in its origin, in all\ntimes and peoples, it was intimately related to it, and bound to it by\nthe strictest ties of affinity and association. And this is not the less\ntrue, even though to the eye of a severe criticism most of its\nproductions, in the ages of its decline, may appear utterly remote from\nits first source and aim, and perfectly vain, worthless, and sensual.\n\nThe divine origin of art is easily proved by its history every where,\nand indeed is so manifest that it can not well be doubted. High art,\nindeed, can not and never will surrender its claim to a divine power and\nsanctity: it must insist upon the recognition of this its high sanction.\nIf we could conceive an age or country where religion should entirely\ncease and be forgotten--where not only all positive faith and\nrevelation, but even the universal belief in a Divinity above them,\nshould die away and perish among men--the light of all higher and\nheaven-directed thoughts and aims should become extinct--that echo of\neternity and of eternal love which the inmost feelings of the human soul\nspontaneously gives back, should be hushed forever--then and there at\nthe self-same moment would all high art be withdrawn and disappear.\n\nIn our own age the state of things is the direct contrary to that which\nwe have been supposing. While from the universal prevalence of\nfreethinking in politics--a natural consequence of the reign of\nreligious skepticism--the whole of life, and especially public life, has\nceased to be regarded and understood in its symbolical character and\ndignity; while the little of religious sentiment that still survives is\nmore or less distracted and secularized by sectarian controversy, and\nscarcely one inviolable sanctuary is left for a simple and undoubting\nfaith to shelter in--art and the beautiful are for a certain portion of\nthe educated classes the only fresh oasis of divinity amid the\nsurrounding desert of worldliness. It is the last treasure left to them,\nand, indeed, prized by them as such, and regarded as the true palladium\nof a higher intrinsic life; but this, in its isolated state and by\nitself, it never can be.\n\nIn this respect the present age may be likened to a noble house, fallen\nfrom its primitive wealth and magnificence into decay and ruin. Its\nrevenues dissipated by misfortunes, mismanagement and extravagance; its\nmansion and domains mortgaged or encumbered with debt, nothing remains\nto it but the family jewels. These time-honored heirlooms of better days\nare all that it still retains of its former opulence. And even in these\nmany a false stone has been introduced among the old genuine diamonds;\nmuch spurious metal has been substituted for the sterling gold of\nantiquity. Apparently, however, the whole are still preserved as the\nlast relic of a former splendor, and of a wealth which once seemed\ninexhaustible. In the same way the present generation supports its inner\nand higher life on the mere external treasures of art, while the great\ncapital of ancient faith, to which among other excellent fruits that\nornament of beauty owed its existence, has by the great majority been\nlong squandered on the \u201c_spirit of the age_.\u201d\n\nBut the symbolical dress that religion every where assumes constitutes\nbut one half of its external form. The other consists in the vital and\nintrinsic union of all the members and professors of the common faith.\nReligion can not by any means be isolated and solitary. It is impossible\nto think of it as existing only for the individual. In a word, there is\nno such thing as religion in a proper sense without a community. Two or\nthree must at least be united in a common faith, that its power and\nefficacy may be visible among them. And this association is one vital\nthroughout--an inmost bond binding souls together by a spiritual\nattraction, and, as it were, enchainment of the several members.\n\nAs the electrical shock traverses instantaneously the entire chain of\nthe connected links, and the spark which enters at one extremity flashes\nthe next moment at the other--as a single loadstone will by contact\nconvert any number of needles into magnets, and elevate them into a new\nand higher relation to the whole globe--so is it also in religion. A\nliving communication from the first origin runs through the whole\ncommunity. As in the voltaic pile, composed of alternate layers of two\ndifferent metals, one chemical element of the telluric energy or of the\nvital principle of the air or atmosphere is emitted or set free on one\nside and the other on the opposite; so is it here also in the spiritual\nchain of faith and in its living reciprocal action of the different\nmembers of this soul-chain--between those who are active ministers and\nconductors, or instruments by which it works, and the others, who in a\nsomewhat passive relation only imbibe the invisible life. By the one the\ndivine blessing of sanctification and holiness is set in action and\nbrought to light--developed and confirmed; while by the others grace is\nreceived as the effectual power and gift of salvation.\n\nOne remark, however, seems particularly called for in this place. It\nappears, from what has been already said, that even revelation and the\ntrue religion itself invariably puts on and is invested with that\nsymbolical garb which is so consonant and agreeable to the state and\nnature of humanity. This being the case, it becomes extremely difficult\nto form a general standard by which we may unfalteringly determine what\nsymbols are not essential, as only serving for the external garb of\nreligion and an intelligible vehicle of its communications. For this, it\nis evident, must be governed by the diversity of individual wants and\npeculiarities, and must consequently assume a variable and personal\ncharacter. If, however, a symbol proceeds immediately from God, then it\nmust necessarily be essential. It is not only a type, but an actual\nsubstance. To suppose otherwise would be even almost parallel to\npresuming to regard the eternal Logos, who is the source of light and\nlife, of all knowledge and of all being, as a word merely, without\ninnate energy and substance.\n\nMost natural, therefore, is it (that is to say, most consistent with the\nnature of the thing, which however in itself is supernatural,\nincomprehensible, and surpasses all conception), that the highest symbol\nof the faith, that which forms the principle of communion and the living\ncenter of unity of all Christendom, should have such a character as to\nbe at once a symbol and also the veritable reality of the thing itself.\nFor inasmuch as on the altar of this religion of divine love, since the\none oblation has long ago been perfected, no other fire shall again be\nkindled but the flame of prayer and of a will directed to and in unison\nwith God; therefore, the act by means of which that communion of souls\nwhich constitutes the essence of all religion, is maintained and carried\non, consists simply in this, that the essential substance of the divine\npower and of God\u2019s love to man is given and received as the wonderful\nseal of union with Him.[52]\n\nAs to the altar itself, how rich or how simple its ornaments ought to\nbe, is a question which I have already remarked, does not easily admit\nof any general solution. If, however, we should attempt to think of\nChristianity without an altar, or desire and attempt to establish such a\nscheme--what indeed among the vast variety of human conceits and\nreligious theories has only occurred to a very limited number, and never\nhas and never will exercise any lasting and decided influence--a\nChristianity thus divested of symbols and mysteries would be degraded\ninto a mere philosophical view and opinion--or at the very best, a\nschool of the kind--any thing, in short, rather than religion. Even the\nstudy of the Bible, if in spite of so sad a state of things it should\nstill survive, would sink into a mere matter of erudition, on a level\nwith any other favorite pursuit of antiquarian lore and research. And\nif, on the other hand, rising perhaps somewhat higher than a mere\nphilosophical opinion or the favorite pursuits of erudition, a religious\ncommunity, having no altar at all, should pretend to rest entirely on\nprayer and spiritual teaching or preaching, such a scheme must\npresuppose an immediate inspiration, communicable to all and continuous\nthroughout time. But such an hypothesis invariably proves the easy and\nnatural transition to the most frightful fanaticism, of whose pernicious\nand evil effects those only who are acquainted with the domestic history\nof Mohammedism, among whose modern and ancient sects this idea is\nrampant, can form a clear and adequate conception.\n\nIn religion, therefore, and that entire union of the inner man and soul\nwith God which it demands, or at least hopes and desires to bring about\nas essential and necessary, and which the higher philosophy of\nantiquity, no less than revealed religion, strove and longed to attain,\nthere lies a something inconceivably sublime and beautiful. Nay, we\nmight almost call it an impossible result, similar in some degree to\nthat which is involved in the higher and more intricate of algebraic\nequations for which there is no solution, or which, at least, appear to\nhave none till it is actually discovered. Now this finite, changeable,\nand in all respects incomplete and in no one point satisfactorily, or at\nleast not perfectly defined (_a_) of our own individual self, with which\nwe are wont to commence the whole of our thought and life, is to be\nbrought into communion with, or, in other words, to be equaled to the\nwholly incomprehensible (_x_) of the incommunicable Godhead. How is this\npossible? By what means is it to be accomplished?\n\nProperly, indeed, our Ego is no such (_a_), and can not be defined as\nsuch in the wonderful algebraic equation of our inmost life and highest\npursuit. For nowhere does man feel himself to be _a first_; all things\nprove him to be secondary and derivative, wherever it may be that he is\nto take or seek his beginning. And not only does the alphabet of our\nlife carry us beyond itself and toward its end in this incomprehensible\n(_x_), but it is also defective at its commencement, and wants a\nbeginning and the first (_a_), which ought to form its very opening. And\neven the (_b_) (could this satisfy us) is nowhere distinctly and clearly\nto be found such as it is in and by itself, or such even as it was\noriginally. It is invariably mixed and involved with something else\nequally unknown. We have, therefore, in this equation of our life, to do\nwith two wholly unknown magnitudes--with the incomprehensible (_x_), and\nwith the (_y_). For by the latter sign we will at present designate that\nwhich every where meets and opposes us. For the fact of such an inborn\nand connatural obstacle every one will admit, even though he may refuse\nto explain it by the evil principle and may be unwilling to receive the\nexplanation which revelation gives of it.\n\nHow, now, is this our (_b_) to be carried back to its original (_a_)?\nHow is it to be set free from this evil (_y_), and brought into union\nwith the highest (_x_)? The answer and solution to this apparently\ninsoluble equation can only be obtained by one method. In attempting it,\nwe must keep steadily in view the principle so recently advanced, that\nthe essence of religion consists in the effectual communication of a\nhigher and living power, which, emanating from the first and original\npoint, traverses the whole spiritual chain to its farthest link. But, in\norder to illustrate completely this principle, and the idea which arises\nfrom it, of a satisfactory solution of this problem, I will indulge\nmyself in a brief but episodical explanation of the Egyptian\nhieroglyphics, as furnishing the most suitable example for my purpose.\nFor, inasmuch as the symbolical nature and constitution of the human,\nand, indeed, of all mortal existence, was the main subject which opened,\nand has occupied our present consideration, it may be regarded as the\nnatural complement and keystone to the whole discussion, if, in addition\nto what has preceded, we go on briefly to examine how and in what sense\nthe oldest writing and earliest method employed by men for the\ncommunication of their ideas was symbolical.\n\nOf the languages of Western Asia, at least, and of the alphabets derived\ntherefrom, the Hebrew, viz., the Ph\u0153nician and the Greek, it may\nwithout hesitation be asserted, that they were derived from\nhieroglyphics, and are, without exception, of hieroglyphic origin. This\ncan not be asserted as decidedly of the Indian alphabet, which differs\nso totally from all those previously mentioned. Still I shall not allow\nmyself, simply on this account, to come over hastily to any conclusion\nas to the comparative antiquity of the Hindoo and the Egyptian modes of\nwriting.\n\nNow, according to all that we know of the hieroglyphical mode of\nindicating objects, it rests on a very simple principle. The discovery\nwhich was in so remarkable a manner reserved to our own age, is not\nindeed complete, and leaves much still to be explained. The fundamental\nprinciple, nevertheless, is well established. From this it appears that\nthe hieroglyphic system of Egypt, although entirely symbolical,\ncontains, notwithstanding, the germ of alphabetical writing. As the\nprinciple of hieroglyphical writing is equally applicable to modern\nlanguages as to the Egyptian, a German word will serve us as well for an\nexample, and for the purposes of our illustration, as any other.\nPreliminary, however, it is necessary to observe, that in this mode of\nnotation the leading characters and essential elements of the radical\nsound are alone indicated; such vowels and consonants as are quiescent,\nor servile, are omitted, and being without any special signs are left to\nbe mentally supplied.\n\nTo take, then, a German word for our example. The word _Leben_ (life)\nwould be signified by its three principal characters. Now, the first\nletter would be indicated by _Licht_ (a flaming light), because this\nword also begins with L, _Baum_ (a tree) would stand for B, while N\nwould be represented by any kind of _Nass_ (fluid), by a rapid\nwaterfall, for instance, or by a waving line, as a type of its moving\nand undulating surface. A light, then, a tree, and an undulating\nsurface, will, by means of the initial letters of our German terms for\nthem (_L_icht, _B_aum, _N_ass), stand for the word _Leben_, _i.e._,\nlife.\n\nNow, from this example, which I have purposely chosen, it will appear\nthat this hieroglyphical mode of notation and writing, while it was\nfundamentally alphabetical, had, nevertheless, at the same time, a\nsymbolical significance. For a light, or light-giving flame, the tree\nwith its growth, as well as the flowing stream with its waves or\nripples, aptly express and typify the intrinsic character of life, with\nits several characteristics and elements. And it is even this addition\nof symbolical coloring and signification which in the otherwise\nequivocal, and, consequently, inconvenient, representation of objects by\nan hieroglyphical alphabet, constitutes the peculiar difficulty, but, at\nthe same time the mental attraction of this kind of writing.\n\nThis mode of hieroglyphical representation is not, however, the most\ndifficult to be understood. Another, so far as it has as yet been found\nout, and as progress has been made toward deciphering it, appears to be\nfar more abstruse and enigmatical. For to understand or to interpret the\nlatter in any degree, it is almost indispensable to know beforehand what\nis the object indicated or intended. In this mode of hieroglyphical\nnotation the image of an object is made to stand for any other whose\nname begins with the same letter, as the word does that designates the\nformer. Thus, to employ the same instance as before, the picture of a\nflaming light would by itself stand for the word and idea of life. This\nis, if we may so say, a bold play with algebraic equations, between\nenigmatical emblems, which are at most but imperfectly indicated, and\nwhich nothing but the intelligence of one well versed in the system can\never hope to comprehend. Any other, even with the greatest pains, will\nscarcely be able to decipher it with any degree of certainty. And this\nleads me back again to our former and still unsolved equation, involving\nthe riddle of human life, and which this simile of the hieroglyphics was\nintended to help us to solve.\n\nThe hieroglyphical mode of writing is, according to the explanation we\nhave given of it, a symbolical representation by means of the initial\nletters of words. In it and through it even that which is the most\nordinary and common assumes a mystical character, and passes into this\nwonderful, imaginative, and emblematical sphere. Now the solution of\nthis general problem lies even in this: that this (_x_)--this\nincomprehensible (_x_)--as the eternal Logos of the incommensurable\nGodhead, became also (_a_) (that is to say, took on Him a human life and\nnature), and is even now fully and really such. For thus the beginning\nand the initial letter of the whole alphabet of human existence, which\nwas so long wanting, although from the very first it was implied in and\nwas the foundation of the (_b_), was given anew to it by God. And now\nthis (_b_), and every other of the following letters, can attach\nthemselves in due order and connection, be united with it and even be\nequated to it, and being thus equalized, inasmuch as _x_=_a_, it also\nbecomes capable of apprehending the otherwise unattainable (_x_). And at\nthe same time it can be entirely set free, at once and forever, from the\nrestlessly opposing and destructive (-_y_); since this (_y_), as opposed\nto the (_x_), is merely a negative quantity, and as such vanishes.\n\nBut however we may attempt by means of this or any other scientific or\nfigurative illustrations to apprehend or to express the ineffable, the\nfact, and above all, a living faith in that great verity, that the\ndivine (_x_) has become a human (_a_)--that the eternal Logos actually\nand really took upon Him the nature of man, and still retains it, is the\npoint from which a new and higher life commences. It is the ring which\nholds together the whole human family--the first link in the chain of\nspiritual life, to which all must be referred and from which all is to\nproceed.\n\nThus, then, beginning with the emblematical representations of the fine\narts, and developing the idea through several other spheres of its\nmanifestation, I have carried the symbolical significance of human life\nup to the highest hieroglyphic of all existence. And as in the three\nprevious Lectures I have considered the eternal Word, simply and\nprincipally in a scientific point of view, as the fundamental law of\ntruth, it now remains for me to exhibit it as the word which shall solve\nall difficulties in the problem of human existence, and shall prove an\nunerring guide in the conflict of life and in all its most important\nrelations and perplexities. And to this subject the three last and\nconcluding Lectures will be devoted. And in these we shall consider all\nthis in its reference to the external and public life of man in society\nand the state. For not only does it hold true of the higher pursuits and\ninmost being of individuals, but it has also a universal application;\nfor this highest of all hieroglyphics, which is the beginning of a new\nlife, forms also the foundation of the state in its sacred character.\n\nAnd because the application of Christian truth and of the fundamental\nidea of Christianity is in general so greatly mistaken, I have thought\nit necessary to remount somewhat higher in my investigations, to draw\nfrom a deeper source, and to connect them with a higher principle, in\norder to arrive more steadily and more certainly at the result which I\nhad in view. And this result may be thus summed up: The Christian state\nis nothing less than symbolical, and even thereby historically\nsanctified--whereas the mere polity of nature or that of reason, which,\nhowever artistical and consummate in its constitution, remains all the\nwhile false and unsanctified, is either purely dynamical or else\nabsolute.\n\nIn human life and society there are three species of power, which\npossess a symbolical significance and a sacred character as resting on a\ndivine foundation. And these are parental authority, the spiritual or\npriestly power, and the kingly or whatever may be the supreme authority\nin the state. The affectionate care and anxiety of an earthly parent\npossesses but a faint analogy to the goodness and providence of the\nomniscient and eternal Father of all, and is scarcely more than a type\nof it. Moreover, the parental authority and a father\u2019s rights over his\nchildren, founded on his relation as the loving and affectionate author\nof their being, admits not of being set forth and comprised in any exact\nand positive formularies. And even if the social community occasionally\nsteps in to determine by legislation the limits, and in certain points\ngives its sanction to the domestic rights and authority of a father, as\nfounded on love and feeling, this is only done, nevertheless, with a\nview to guard against and to remedy the possible abuse of so natural a\nright and relation. When, however, as was the principle of the old Roman\nlaw, power over the life and death of his offspring is conceded to the\nfather, we feel at once that this is an undue extension of the paternal\nauthority, and that the provinces of the three different powers are not\nkept duly distinct and separate. A parent who should avail himself of\nsuch a privilege would but prove himself devoid of the ordinary\nfeelings of nature. On the other hand, by a natural sentiment, common to\nthe savage and barbarian, as well as to the most refined and civilized\nnations, respect for and reverence of parents is held to be something\nmore than an ordinary and conventional duty and obligation. It is\nuniversally regarded in the light of a duty in every sense sacred and\nholy. And the divine moral law of the Old Testament completely agrees\nwith the universal feeling of man\u2019s nature in this ascription to it of\nholiness. But, on the other hand, the rights of the Christian limit the\nparent\u2019s authority on the side of the spiritual domain, wherever it\nwould trench upon the freedom of belief and liberty of conscience.\nSpecial circumstances, again, such as the dotage of old age, mental\nweakness, faults of character, or offenses against society, may, in\ncertain cases, tend greatly to limit and control, or otherwise modify,\nthe parental dignity and authority. But still, in the very worst case,\nthe most respectful behavior and the tenderest delicacy, on all points\nconnected with this relationship, remains forever an immutable law of\nduty to the child, which, as it is deeply founded in the moral sense of\nman, makes itself heard throughout the whole habitable world. The mutual\ntie of parental love and filial duty has, it is plain, its foundations\ndeep in nature itself, and out of it proceeds the sanctity of the very\nnotion of domestic life, and of all its relations, as well as of the\npeculiar authority of a father and a parent.\n\nAs for the spiritual and priestly power: wherever religion recognizes\nthe priest in his true character--_i.e._, not simply as the preacher and\npromulgator, but also as the living channel for dispensing and\ncommunicating the divine grace, he is, in so far as his office is\nconcerned, and in the discharge of his sacerdotal functions, a\nvicegerent of God--not so much, perhaps, of the everlasting Father, the\nCreator and Lawgiver of nature, as of the Son who came down into the\nworld to ransom and redeem the human race. The priestly or spiritual\npower, therefore, has a divine foundation on which it ultimately rests.\nBut inasmuch as that bond of communion which unites our souls with God\nmust be sought and attained by faith and in the spirit of faith, so this\nauthority, however holy in itself, is, nevertheless, by its very nature,\nconfined to the province of spirituals.\n\nThe judicial function, also, where it is recognized as dogmatic, is at\nleast subordinate to that other character whose office it is to carry\nout the work of redemption, to dispense the divine grace, and to bless.\nFor an arbitrary judicial power, where internal caprice is the rule of\njudgment, and where the execution of its decrees depends on the\nindividual, does not in strict truth deserve this appellation. With as\nmuch reason might the anointed head of the state claim, by virtue of\nthis consecrating and anointing, to exercise the functions of the\nspiritual office.\n\nFurther, we may observe, all these sacred offices possess a certain\nanalogy and affinity one with the other. This fact, however, does not in\nany way militate against the essential and necessary duty of preserving\na precise and accurate separation of their several functions. The\nprivacy of home, the family circle, and the relations of domestic life,\nare by the laws of most nations regarded as a sanctuary which the\nexternal power of the state ought not lightly and without grave\nnecessity to violate or profane. On the other hand, in ordinary language\npaternal titles are ascribed to the other two powers. But as regards\nspiritual personages, this is a mere mark of respect, while, as applied\nto the head of the state, it serves to indicate a special character of\ngoodness and clemency in the government. It is not by any means\napplicable generally to the functions of government as marking its\nspecific nature and essence. For it may not be, nay, perhaps, we should\nrather say it can not in all cases be simply and purely paternal.\n\nStrict impartiality, for instance, is a primary requisition in the\njudge, but is it possible, nay, would it properly be just, to require\nthis in every case of a father? The judicial character, however, is the\npredominant element of political government, and the supreme judicial\nfunction is its essential aspect, with which all the other distinctive\ncharacteristics or exclusive prerogatives of sovereign power are most\nintimately connected. And on this account, while the paternal authority\nrests primarily on that tie of souls which consists in the reciprocal\naffection of parents and children, and while the priestly power is\nlimited to the sacerdotal and spiritual domain, the supreme judicial and\nsovereign power in the state, which is responsible to God alone, as the\nhighest and paramount of these three sacred and venerated powers,\nembraces the complete whole, if I may so say, the bodily reality of\nman\u2019s public life. And in this sphere of historical reality it will be\nmy endeavor to trace the further development of these three ideas as\nthey manifest themselves in the busy conflict of life and the age. And\nto this subject I propose to devote the three following Lectures.\n\nIn concluding our present disquisition I will only add one remark. All\nthese three powers, as founded on nature, on divine revelation, and on\nhistorical rights, are alike holy and sacred. The good, that is to say,\nthe prudent and affectionate father, the pious priest, and the righteous\nking, are each and all, though in different ways and degrees, and with\ndifferent powers and rights, visible and acting vicegerents on earth of\nthe invisible God. The last, in truth, is not merely the representative\nbut the unlimited dispenser of divine justice. And this divine\nfoundation of these powers, which claim and present an inviolable\ncharacter of sanctity, forms the practical part of that symbolical\nsignification of life which in its highest phase has formed the theme of\nthe present Lecture.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XIII.\n\nOF THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH AND LIFE IN ITS APPLICATION TO POLITICS, OR OF\nTHE CHRISTIAN CONSTITUTION OF THE STATE AND THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF\nJURISPRUDENCE.\n\n\nThe Asiatic custom of deifying their earthly rulers by addressing them\nas King of Kings, Lord or Spanner [_Umspanner_] of Creation, the\nEffulgence of the Deity, and the like, have ever been and very naturally\nmost repugnant to the moral sense of Christian Europe. The Christian\nnotion and axiom, that all power is of God, is founded on a very\ndefinite idea and well-considered principle. And this principle is\nnothing less than this, that the supreme head of the state has to\ndispense the divine justice. And while this constitutes the peculiar\ndignity of his office, he is, in the exercise of this his highest\nfunction and authority, responsible to God alone. If, however, we should\nany where meet, either in the present times or the history of the past,\nwith a state in which, by the principle of its constitutions, the\nnominal possessor of supreme authority and the executive is responsible\nto another body, then is the latter in fact the sovereign power, and not\nthe former, which really is subordinate to the other. The Spartan\nconstitution will serve to illustrate my meaning. Here, to judge by that\nstrict definition of the sovereign authority and its peculiar character\nand distinctive criteria, it evidently lay in the Ephori rather than in\nthe possessors of supreme executive power, who were called kings, and\nwhose office was hereditary. The very fact that two kings reigned\nconjointly is of itself subversive of the very notion of sovereign\npower. But still more fatally was this undermined by their\nresponsibility in certain cases to the censorship of the other Spartan\nmagistracy. To the other ancient republics, whose constitution was based\nnaturally enough on a very artificial division of powers, and the\nmaintenance of a certain antagonism and accurate balance between them,\nour notion of a supreme and sovereign political authority is scarcely\napplicable. It is found far more fully expressed in a special character\nof inviolable sanctity and dignity attaching to certain judicial\nfunctions and magistracies, such as that of the Areopagus in Athens and\nof the censorship at Rome in the days of the Republic, than to the\ntransitory tenure of the executive power, over which those judicial\nauthorities possessed and exercised in certain cases a control.\n\nThe proper and _de facto_, or personal division of power, is essentially\na republican principle. In notion, however, or in idea, it is perfectly\nlegitimate to make a distinction between the several functions and\nelements of the whole sovereign authority. Now, in such a case, the\njudicial power--the supreme judicial power we would emphatically say--is\npre-eminently the characteristic sign and specific distinction of\nsovereignty, from which all its other prerogatives and properties are\noriginally derived or flow from it as its necessary and natural\nconsequences. The noble prerogative of pardon and mercy, for instance,\nis, as it were, the natural attribute of the supreme judicial power.\n\nWith respect to legislation, however, and the legislative authority, an\nimportant co-ordinate power may, according to the existing constitution\nof a particular state, be vested in the other correlative members of the\nbody politic. The preliminary deliberation, the first sketch or the\ninitiation of a law, may not, perhaps, proceed in every case from the\nsupreme head of the community. In other states, again, the law must\nemanate from the free choice and individual will of the monarch, or at\nleast the introduction of it, since he can not of himself alone make and\ncarry out the whole. This is a point, consequently, on which it is\nextremely difficult to draw the boundary line, which must in no case be\ntransgressed or deviated from--in so far, that is, and so long as there\nis no question about any thing more than a simple co-operation or\nco-ordinate deliberation upon the proposed laws. But still in every case\nthe final sanction, by which a law becomes properly the law, or by which\nit is annulled or repealed, must be reserved to the royal prerogative,\notherwise the monarch ceases at once to be supreme.\n\nEven the prerogative of proclaiming war and of concluding peace is, if\nperhaps we may be allowed so to say, a judicial function on a large\nscale, and applied to the external relations of states. It is, in short,\nnothing less than a judicial act. And in this light it will appear to\nevery one who does not regard it as a mere act of arbitrary caprice.\nThis, however, it never ought to be. For it is, as it were, a verdict\non the existing relations of right and wrong between two neighboring\nstates. But in as much as both parties, in point of right and law, are\nin so far equal, that they refuse to recognize in common any higher\njudge, an absolute state of violence necessarily ensues, a struggle of\npower follows, until at last, in the change of circumstances, the\nrelations of justice are restored by mutual consent. The party that\nfirst proclaims war becomes, in this process of trial by battle, the\njudge of its own cause. And if by the fearful issue of the combat it is\ntaught to see its own injustice, then must it either make due\nconcessions, or, at very best, by calling in the mediation of a third\nand neutral state, it must constitute it the judge by whose decision it\nis ready and willing to abide.\n\nThe usual insignia of the kingly dignity, the scepter and the throne,\nare only the signs of judicial power, as it were, promoted one degree\nhigher, and can be historically traced up to the judge\u2019s bench and\nstaff. The crown alone remains as the peculiar and exclusive symbol of\nthe highest earthly dignity. And rightly is it called a splendid burden.\nFor while it exalts him who is called to wear it above all earthly\ndependence and responsibility, and exempts him from all the ordinary\nrelations of human life, the heavy weight of this splendid ornament\nreminds the wearer of the grave reckoning and the strict account he will\nhave to render to God, as the Supreme Judge of all--who is the source\nand sum of all justice and righteousness. For this serious and solemn\nresponsibility is received from God, together and at the very same time\nwith the crown.\n\nQuite different in signification was the symbolical ensign of the old\nemperors in the middle ages--a sword pointing to the four winds or\ncardinal points of heaven. It alluded to the peculiar idea and the\npeculiar constitution of that dignity. For in this respect it was not\nsimply a distinction of power, of rank, or of title, between the\nimperial and the kingly dignities. It involved a total and essential\ndifference between the ideas and objects of these sacred and anointed\npotentates--between the elective emperor and the hereditary king, duke,\nor prince, although it was from these alone that the former could be\nduly and regularly elected. For the emperor was looked upon as armed\nwith the sword of all Christendom to be the defender of the whole system\nof European states. Accordingly, as the representative of the union of\nseveral states, he bore this ensign of his imperial office.\n\nTo this ancient idea of a Christian empire we shall again have occasion\nto revert in the further examination of the idea of a political state\nand its Christian community. We shall meet with it once more in that\nsection of our inquiry which will be occupied with the ruling principle\nof right and polity in a system of states as a body, and also in the\nmutual relations of its several members. In this section we shall also\nshow that this principle must be either absolute, that is, one where one\nor more of the several members of the union exercises a superior and\npreponderating influence, or one artificially constituted and dynamical,\n_i.e._, a system of the so-called balance of power. And here will\nnaturally arise the question whether, for such a confederacy of moral\nand civilized societies and nations, a less imperfect and higher, but\ncommon principle of Christian justice might not be found and\nestablished? For any system of mutual confederation, whether absolute or\nfounded on the artificial relations of the strength of its respective\nmembers, is in any case defective and imperfect, whatever may be the\nground of union, whether founded on the internal constitution of the\nstates, or derived from the physical consideration of their geographical\nposition and neighborhood.\n\nAccording, then, to that divine principle and Christian foundation of\nthe state which I have attempted to derive from the symbolical\nsignification of life and the symbolical destiny of man in his relation\nto God, the highest authority of the state--the king, or generally the\nmonarch, as well as the spiritual functionary, or the priest--are the\nvicegerents of a highest and divine power, whom they represent on earth.\nThe only difference between them is, that the latter has chiefly to\nrepresent and to set forth God as teaching men, but at the same time as\nwarning and commanding them in this revelation of His will, and as\npromising and as livingly dispensing to them His grace, while the former\nis the representative of the Omnipotent Lawgiver and Judge, who governs\nthe world with justice, and will by no means clear the guilty.\nAccording, therefore, to the true Christian notion of these two powers,\nboth of them--the civil no less than the spiritual--possess a\nrepresentative character, which, however, deviates very widely from the\nordinary notion of the representation and a representative constitution,\nor, rather, forms a decided contrast to them.\n\nAnd what contrast can, in fact, be more decided than that which such a\nrepresentative power and dignity as belongs to the ministering of the\ndivine grace to the soul and spirit, or the dispensing of divine justice\nto the whole earthly life, forms with that thing of horrible memory,[53]\nwhich has been called a representation of the people, or the systems\nwhich have been similarly designated? But even if it could be\nsatisfactorily proved that a people, like the invisible essence of the\nDeity, could be represented, it is open to very grave doubt whether this\nis really possible in the method usually adopted. According to the\nprinciple of this kind of popular representation, where the whole adult\npopulation are entitled individually to vote, the election becomes, as\nit were, a lottery, and even the political winners thus determined, or\nthe ballotted members, become so many influential units in one branch of\nthe legislative body and for a limited period. In respect, however, to\nthe principles and sentiments, the predominant character and spirit of a\npeople, those who are thus chosen are the representatives not so much of\nthe whole nation as of the reigning passion of the moment, or the spirit\nof the times in its restless agitation. For when thus resolved into its\nconstituent atoms and numbered off in succession, a nation is reduced to\nan elementary mass. But like all that is thus elementary, when thus\ndecomposed, and fermenting in its process of dissolution, it assumes a\ndestructive tendency and turn. At least it ceases to form an organic\nwhole, an individual. It is only when a state or a nation historically\nlives on, further develops and vitally maintains itself in its organic\nmembers, _i.e._, in its several estates or essential corporations, that\nit can be said to form a living whole, and to be, as it were, one great\nindividual.\n\nIt is only in this sense that there can be true representatives of a\npeople, who, if the expression is allowable, are its true historical\nmen. It is in them that the spirit and character, the general leaning\ntendency, the peculiar style of feeling, sentiment, and thought of a\nnation, in any definite period or periods, finds its most decided and\nloudest expression. Rarely, however, is this attained in a system of\nelective deputies or representatives, which is liable to many passing\nand accidental influences, and, indeed, in and by itself has no\nconnection with it. Scipio and Cato would be representatives of the\nRoman character and spirit, even if they had never been invested with\npublic authority and had lived their whole lives in exile. And in the\nsame manner purely intellectual natures may often stand for such\nhistorical characters and representatives. Horace and Tacitus most\nassuredly occupy the same relation to their respective ages as the two\nformer did to theirs, and this, in truth, quite independently of any\nsubordinate rank or political dignity and influence which either the one\nor the other possessed in peace or war. Cicero, indeed, would have been\nall this in an equal degree, and, perhaps, still more so, if, keeping\nentirely aloof from the civil contentions of his day, for which he was\nlittle suited, he had devoted himself to the acquisition of a purely\nintellectual and literary influence.\n\nHowever, it is not every famous author or every brilliant political\nspeaker that can in this sense be justly regarded as historical\ncharacters. Besides that energy of talent which creates an epoch, and\nwhich is, indeed, the primary and essential condition, certain other\nproperties of character are required, certain sentiments and principles\nvividly carried out and realized in life and action. But this is a\ncombination which is rarely found. A peculiar sphere of practical\ninfluence does not form an immediate, nor, indeed, a necessary\nqualification of such a character. Still it is evident that a writer who\ntruly merits such an appellation must be something more than a mere man\nof letters or an artist. The effects he produces on the minds of men\nmust be both truly national and historical. Such alone are truly and\nproperly the historical representatives of a people--the men of their\nnation.\n\nAs for those other elective representatives already mentioned, it is\nonly when they belong to a particular estate and corporation, and\nrepresent it, that they can promote the permanent interests of this\norganically constituted whole. For it is out of such organic members\nthat the national existence gains its true, _i.e._, its historical\ndevelopment. But this is impossible whenever they are chosen by the\nindividual votes of the entire population. Such a splitting of the whole\npolitical body, as it were, into its constituent atoms, is either in\nitself an elementary decomposition or must eventually lead to it. Even a\nrepublican constitution, if it be well and wisely ordered, will be based\nprincipally on corporations or organic division of estates, rather than\non any principle of numerical majority and equality, which, taken as a\ngeneral element, invariably proves, as history testifies, sooner or\nlater, a positive source of anarchy.\n\nNot only would it be an exaggeration, but even a gross error, were we to\nregard the republican polity as excluded from the Christian principle,\nthat all sovereignty is of God, or as irreconcilable with it and even as\ndirectly contradicting its spirit. On the contrary, the duty of\nobedience and the actual dependence on the existing and _de facto_ head\nof the state, is not less binding on all who, through the accident of\nbirth or their own free choice and voluntary obligation, belong to such\na community, than on the subjects of an hereditary monarchy. The utmost\nthat can be safely asserted is, that the Christian state principally\ninclines to the latter form of polity, without, however, formally\nrejecting, or unconditionally excluding the former. Historical\nexperience has shown this, and the whole of modern history will furnish\nabundant testimony to its truth. When the responsibility of the supreme\npolitical authority is in an endless circle shifted from point to point\nof a mere human sphere, then the sacred character of the divine\nfoundation of the state exhibits itself with least distinctness. It is\nmore immediately manifest in an hereditary monarchy, where, by a single\npoint, as the first link which holds together the whole community, this\nresponsibility is attached immediately to God and the divine justice,\nbefore whose tribunal it has alone to answer. And this more immediate\nmanifestation forms the ground of that preponderating tendency and\npreference of the monarchical constitution by the Christian principle.\n\nBut in another respect, also, is it easier to give a religious meaning\nto political life in an hereditary monarchy, and to discharge its duties\nand to maintain it in a religious spirit, than in a republic. Since all\nthat is human is subject to change, fluctuation, and imperfection, it\nwould be something wonderful if the case were different with political\nmatters, and if the state were to form a singular exception from the\ngeneral rule. Such an expectation would, indeed, be strange, and\ncontrary to the nature of things, as well as to reason and common sense.\nFor, to take an instance from that people whom God so specially and\nimmediately led and directed; after a wise Solomon has long and\npeacefully occupied the throne, with prosperity at home and splendor and\nrenown abroad, the reins of government may fall into the weak hands of\na minor, when, even without any personal culpability, all hostile\nelements come to an outbreak, and lead to the most fearful political\nconsequences. And even Solomon, with a wisdom which, in many respects,\nwas more than human, was not secure from all mistakes and errors. For\ninasmuch as, after receiving this illumination from above, this wisdom\nlent to him from God, he still remained a free agent, he might, as he\nactually did, pervert it to an evil use. Like every thing else that is\ngood, it was liable to abuse by man. Generally it does not lie in the\nnature of things that in long succession and change of times one reign\nshould be equally mild and paternal as another--equally prosperous and\nsplendid--and equally wise and successful.\n\nThis, indeed, is a matter which does not depend invariably and\nexclusively on the personal qualities of the sovereign. It is governed\nmuch more by the peculiar circumstances of the age, and the general\nrelations of the political world. We should err greatly if we were to\nsuppose, or feel inclined to assert, that this change, from happy and\nprosperous to adverse or less fortunate times, is less frequent in\nrepublican states, or that the latter are entirely exempted from such\nfluctuations. History furnishes numerous instances to refute so absurd\nan idea. On the contrary, such changes are far more generally the rule\nin republican states, and their ruin advances with a more rapid and\ncertain progress. For the growth of a republic in external power and\ninfluence, and the consequent multiplication of its relations with\nforeign powers, is invariably accompanied with great internal agitation,\nleading to sudden and violent changes. The greatest and most important\ndifference, however, lies in this, that in an hereditary monarchy the\nchange from a distinguished to an unfortunate and less prosperous reign\nis distinct, and has an assignable cause, which, by a natural and just\nsentiment, is received as a divine visitation, and wherever any sense of\nreligion still survives and prevails in men\u2019s views of life, will be\npatiently endured as such. Accordingly, besides its mere legal sense,\nthe maxim that all authority is of God now assumes the further\nsignificance of a divine dispensation. And it is clearly manifest that\nthis Christian maxim and principle was intended to convey this second\nmeaning, and that it embraces such a religious view and estimate of\npolitical matters and events.\n\nNow, it is true that the providence of God extends to all events and\ncircumstances of the world. Every permission, therefore, of evil,\nwhether in a greater or less degree, every misfortune and calamity that\nhappens to us, must, from this point of view, be regarded either as a\nwell-merited punishment or as a severe trial, as a wholesome pang and\nconflict or as a painful transition to a higher degree of perfection.\nThis, at least, will be our feeling, in proportion as we entertain and\nfaithfully follow a religious view and estimate of our own life and\nfortunes, as well as of all mundane events, in a firm and unshaken faith\nin the Divine Omnipotence and Wisdom. Even for the preservation and\nhealth of his physical life, man stands in need of pain and privation,\nbut still more so for his moral improvement.\n\nNow, notwithstanding that this principle of a divine providence is\nequally applicable in every case, still, even the religious estimate,\nnot to say a simply human mode of judging of political events and\nrelations, is in republics subject to the following important and\nessential modification. In such a constitution, all hangs, or is made\ndependent, on the choice or the caprice of men, or, if such terms be\npreferred, their merit and intelligence. Consequently, the entire blame\nof every error or miscarriage in government, whether real or imaginary,\nand however great or little, is forthwith ascribed to its human\nadministrators. But an injury at the hands of man invariably provokes\nbitterness, revenge, and opposition. On the contrary, a misfortune which\novertakes us from God, and which, as being unable to impute the blame of\nit to any human individual, we feel and recognize to be a divine\nvisitation, awakens in us wholesome and salutary reflection. Thus it is\nfounded on the very nature of things, and on a right and sound state of\nhuman feeling, that a change from a year of plenty to one of want and\nbarrenness should be borne with patience and resignation. But if, on the\nother hand, a general scarcity and dearth, or any similar affliction and\ndisproportion between the supply and demand of the necessaries of life,\nshould occur among a trading or manufacturing population, of which the\nsource should really or apparently lie in some erroneous measure or\nselfish policy of those on whom the administration of the state\ndevolved, all minds would immediately be in a state of excitement and\nuproar. And, in fact, the words of the pious king in Holy Writ: \u201cLet us\nfall now into the hands of the Lord, for His mercies are great: and let\nme not fall into the hand of man,\u201d[54] are quite in unison with the\ngeneral feelings of human nature.\n\nAccordingly, throughout the sacred history of the old world, and in all\ntimes where religious sentiment is not quite dead, such calamities, and\neven an unfortunate, not to say a wicked reign, are looked upon as the\ndeserved visitation of God\u2019s wrath, and as a time of heavy trial. And\nthe chastisement of Heaven will be borne, by all right-thinking persons,\nnot out of fear of man, but as is fitting, in reverent submission to the\ndivine will, with manly patience and resignation. On the other hand,\ninnumerable instances of a contrary course might be produced from\nrepublican times and histories. How often, in such states, has a false\nstep in government, trifling, indeed, in itself, but still in fact and\nin truth, a blunder in one party, been the occasion of an opposition and\nresistance of another, and of a general feeling of discontent and a\nviolent reaction, which have proved a hundred times more fatal and\npernicious than the first occasion of popular murmurs. How often has a\nmerely human oversight, trivial enough in itself, and running counter to\npublic opinion in some little trifle, led to the most fearful\ncatastrophes, amid which the first exciting cause is lost sight of and\nentirely forgotten, and finally all is involved in one general ruin.\n\nIn this respect, and in this degree, it may safely be affirmed that the\nChristian principle of the state is more favorable to an hereditary\nmonarchy than to a republican constitution. But at this point the\nproposition must be left purposely indeterminate. For a rigorous\nexclusion of all republican states, as if, properly, they could never be\nright and legitimate, would most assuredly not be accordant with the\nChristian principle of a state and the fundamental religious conception\nof all political relations and events. On the contrary, it would,\nundoubtedly, go directly counter to all proper feelings and ideas on the\nsubject. For the Christian principle of justice respects all that has an\nhistorical existence, and leaves even the imperfect in the undisturbed\npossession of its rights. In this respect it is entirely opposed to the\nrevolutionary spirit. For the latter, in its inmost essence, is\nanti-historical; its first step being the refusal to recognize the value\nand the claims of all that comes down from, and has been established by,\nthe past. And, moreover, the Christian idea of justice, with all its\nstrict rigor, involves a principle of equity. For, in truth, every\nChristian sentiment embraces the whole of life, and its several\nrelations, with a loving mildness, and pays a due regard to all really\nexistent though subordinate circumstances. And it is this exactly that\nconstitutes the very notion of equity. Lastly, the doctrine of\nChristianity, and the idea of human life which it gives rise to, is\nhighly favorable to true liberty. But, then, it is liberty, in a large\nand exalted sense of the term, in which, first and before all, a\nspiritual and moral freedom is meant as necessary to be firmly\nestablished within men before the external liberty in social and\npolitical life can be hoped for. For most true is the sublime\ndeclaration, \u201cIf the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free\nindeed.\u201d[55] To every one for whom this sentiment possesses a meaning\nand significance it would be superfluous to add, what, indeed, is so\npalpably evident, that the Son makes no one free except in the way that\nHe Himself was, viz., by obedience--a perfect obedience which brings the\nwhole man, with all its passions and affections, as a free-will offering\nto the Father.\n\nThe predominant tendency of modern Christendom to a monarchical\nconstitution, as most accordant with the Christian principle of the\nstate, is abundantly evinced in history. The fact is so generally\nadmitted, that it is almost a work of supererogation to adduce instances\nof it. Not only within the memory of living men, but also two centuries\nago, a great Christian monarchy, fanatically possessed and inflamed with\nthe idea of absolute liberty and equality, lapsed for a while into a\nrepublic. But in both cases this passing fever of fanaticism soon worked\nitself out by its very violence, and the foreign and diseased matter was\nthrown off by the political body. It was out of this crisis, however,\nthat the much-lauded constitution of England arose, with its dynamical\ntheory of the division and nicely-adjusted balance of power, which has\nreached at present so great a height of practical excellence. Moreover,\nit is almost superfluous to notice the fact how a second-rate maritime\npower, which in its very origin was entirely republican, gradually\napproximated to, and has at last entirely adopted, a monarchical\npolity.[56] Another state, monarchical indeed, but which, from the fact\nthat its sovereigns were elective, deserves rather to be called a\nrepublic, and in some respects was really so, amid the anarchy of party\nand the feuds which arose out of the elections, soon lost its ancient\ngreatness and splendor, and even its existence as an independent nation.\nIn short, in the whole of Christian Europe, but a few small and\nuninfluential communities have retained a republican form. As for the\nrepublics which have sprung up out of the colonial states in the New\nWorld, the very oldest of them are of too recent an origin to allow us\nto pass upon them any judgment which could be justly and truly called\nhistorical. On the other hand, however, the modern Christian era\nfurnishes one remarkable phenomenon of a republican state on a large\nscale, and of a wholly peculiar kind. And we may adduce this instance as\na proof that such a constitution is by no means excluded from the spirit\nof a Christian polity or its legitimate and historical principle.\n\nI am alluding to the ancient German, or the Christian Roman Empire of\nthe middle ages, during a period of many centuries, and in the time of\nits vigor and splendor, when it led, not to say, formed, the great\npolitical world.[57] As an elective empire, but still monarchical in the\nunity of the whole, it possessed so far a republican tendency and shape.\nAnd this it preserved even long afterward, when, by a long succession\nof emperors of the same house, the imperial crown had in fact become\nalmost the hereditary right of a single family; for the solemn sanction\nof an election was still indispensable, and this gave rise to more than\none exception or interruption to the otherwise historically confirmed\nlaw of succession. Moreover, this great system or confederation of\nstates embraced many smaller and principally republican states; at least\nin its members were comprised every possible form of political\nconstitution. The four great dukedoms, who in the imperial diet were the\noriginal representatives, together with the other hereditary powers\nwhich subsequently attained to the electoral dignity, formed, as it\nwere, the monarchical element in the whole body, retaining, however, at\nthe same time, its national and popular character. Alongside of these\nthe spiritual princes, as entirely dependent on choice and election for\ntheir dignities, formed an aristocracy, not only of birth, but of\nscience and the intellectual culture of the age--in short, an\naristocracy of merit. Lastly, the trading and manufacturing free towns,\nwith their imperial privileges and charters, formed, among the other\nmembers of the Empire, a true democratical element, in the highest and\nnoblest sense of the term. For we must not understand thereby any mere\nuniversal equality, leading to the usual popular anarchy, but\ncorporations, with well-defined rights, of the burgher classes, as they\nattained to historical importance and influence. The very name of the\nHanse Towns is sufficient to remind us of the vast and important part\nwhich the latter played, even in the declining times of the Empire.\n\nThus free and republican in its spirit was the old Christian monarchy of\nthe German Kaisers. It had no doubt to undergo many convulsions from\ndomestic faction, and, finally sunk beneath them. Still this political\nconstitution of the middle ages, in their best days, must forever remain\na remarkable and singular phenomenon. Its full and deep significance and\ngrandeur are little recognized, and still less perfectly understood, by\nthe modern science of politics. Peculiarly Christian in principle, in\nits kingly administration as vigorous and successful as any other state\nin the most brilliant eras of the history of the world, while in the\ninternal development of its republican members and constituents it was\nmore rich and varied, and, in truth, much freer than even the most\nlauded among the mixed constitutions of modern times. For historical\nexperience, that great teacher of political science, distinctly proves\nthat in those _dynamical_ states, which are based on the principle of\nthe division and nicely-adjusted balance of power, the ministry and the\nopposition usurp between them all the functions of authority, while the\nsacred cipher of an hereditary monarch is nothing more than a mere\nshadow, beneath which they can sit at ease to carry on their endless\ndisputes.\n\nThe Christian view, then, of the world, and of the state, as we have\nalready remarked, does not exclude or reject any form of political\nexistence. On the contrary, it recognizes whatever possesses an\nhistorical cause and foundation, and allows it to stand in its proper\nplace, and in its true and original significance and rights.\nAccordingly, it admits the validity as such even of the dynamical form\nof polity, even though it feels it impossible to agree with partial and\nenthusiastic admirers in considering it as perfect. Nay, it does not\nreject even an absolute despotism, notwithstanding that it sees clearly\nenough all its imperfections and great inferiority. It is only by a\ncomplete view of history that their existence can be explained and\nunderstood. And in this they will appear either as a necessary evil in\nits mildest form, _i.e._, as the less pernicious and dangerous, under\nexisting circumstances, or as a remedy for some more fearful disorder,\nby which alone the social frame can be restored to a more healthy\ncondition.\n\nThe usual transition and natural issue of popular anarchy, when it has\nlasted long enough to exhaust its own fearful violence, is a perpetual\ndictatorship or despotism in some shape or other, but devoid of a higher\nand diviner sanction. This form of government, or (since, strictly\nspeaking, it is not a form) this political condition, must be carefully\ndistinguished from a long-established, legitimate, and hereditary\nmonarchy, with which its whole character has nothing in common. No doubt\nwhen the revolutionary evil has reached its greatest height, and when a\nsuccessful and prudent usurper, like the much-lauded Augustus in ancient\nRome, without being personally answerable for the overthrow of the\nprevious constitution, appears pre-eminently in the character of\nmediator between parties and a general pacificator, the world is ready\nto accord to him its applause. Gradually his authority is more and more\nwidely acknowledged. Although at first he is recognized conditionally\nonly and relatively, nevertheless, if he remains faithful to his better\ntendencies, and continues to the last to confer important benefits on\nhis people, he may often give a permanent and historical foundation to\nhis dynasty. But if, on the contrary, under his usurped power,\nrevolution, phenix-like, only renews itself out of its own ashes, and\nthe old anarchy from below revives in another form from above, as a\nmerely military despotism, which, in its resistless and annihilating\nlust of conquest, honors nothing, but throws the whole world into\nconfusion, then is the second evil worse than the first, which it\npromised to remedy. By such a course it loses its only moral foundation,\ninasmuch as it was to the better promise it held out that it owed its\ntemporary and conditional recognition. Such an instance has been brought\nclosely enough before our eyes in the history of very recent times, to\nenable us at once intuitively to understand its whole character. More\nslowly, and in a more organized method, and, consequently, with more\nlasting and historical results, did such transitions shape themselves in\nthe ancient world, and especially in the Roman constitution. The ancient\ndevelopment, therefore, of this phenomenon, and its special form, is\nhighly instructive and pre-eminently calculated to throw a clear light\non our whole theory.\n\nModern history at no period presents to us such a vast system of\nrepublican states as we meet with in the annals of antiquity, which\nexhibit this under the most various forms, as the predominant\nconstitution of the whole civilized world, not only in its infant, but\nin its maturest and most flourishing development. Not only the Grecian\ncommunities, Carthage, Rome, and the Italian municipalities, but also\nall the independent nations of central and northern Europe, possessed a\nmore or less perfect form of republican polity. This portion, therefore,\nof ancient history furnishes to political science a phenomenon which in\nthe highest degree demands its attention. However greatly its freedom of\ninquiry and high intellectual culture, its splendid examples of\npatriotism and its noble characters and heroic deeds, may prepossess us\nin its favor, on the whole we are forced to confess that experience has\ndecided against such a system. This great teacher shows it to us as\nutterly impracticable, and ill adapted to promote the real progress of\nhuman development, inasmuch as with whatever of brightest promise it may\nbegin, it invariably terminates in barbarism and disorder. In all of\nthese states we trace early enough the same evil tendency to political\nlicense and anarchy, which, developing itself with ceaseless rapidity,\nsoon paves the way to the indeterminate condition of absolute power.\nAlmost all the great thinkers and political writers of antiquity,\nwithout exception, set themselves to oppose the democratic element of\ntheir national constitutions, and foresaw and predicted the ruin of\ntheir country from this source, without being able in any way to prevent\nit. It will be enough to mention Plato in Athens, and in a different\nmanner and degree, Cicero in Rome, who was himself drawn into the vortex\nof political strife. The remedy and counterpoise for the evils of this\ndemocratical spirit was sought by the political thinkers and\nphilosophers of those times, in a doubtlessly noble but still very\nimperfect form of an aristocracy--a remedy which is as little consonant\nto our feelings as it is unlikely to satisfy our scientific convictions.\nA just and clear idea of an hereditary and well-regulated monarchy was\nat that date almost entirely unknown, since in its essential features,\nin its true and perfect character, it is entirely of a Christian origin.\nIn the ancient world, at most, a few and faint outlines of it are\noccasionally to be discovered.\n\nThe internal and external dissensions of the republics of Greece, and\nthe consequent loss of their independence and subjugation by the\nMacedonian monarchy, or the half-Asiatic half-Grecian powers which\nsprung out of it, affords a sufficient confirmation of the law that the\nrepublican constitution, in the times of moral degeneracy, invariably\nterminates in popular anarchy and ruin. The same transition in the Roman\npolity presents us with interesting considerations of a higher but\ndifferent kind. For in this instance the change was effected with clear\nideas, definite views, and well-digested principles. After a long and\nunparalleled succession of bloody civil wars, and an equally fearful\nseries of foreign conquest and aggression, which were almost\nindispensable as an outlet for the wild and ambitions passions of men,\nthe catastrophe which forecasting minds had long foreseen at last came\nabout. And instead of continuing a hopeless resistance, it was now the\nfirst object of the wise and prudent to convert the new military power\ninto an instrument of peace, and by investing the modern but absolute\nauthority with all the old and hallowed forms of dignity, to bring it as\nnear as possible to the character of an hereditary monarchy. It is to\nthe tendency to improvement which forms the germ of these ideas that we\nmust look for the apology, while in the course of history at this\nperiod there lies whatever there can be of reason and justification for\nsuch absolute despotism as prevailed at this era in the political world.\nIn itself, however, it can not be too often repeated, it is altogether\nformless and full of imperfection. A true family succession and\nhereditary dynasty, however, was scarcely possible, so long as there\nexisted no limit to caprice in adoption or divorce, and when all the\nrelations of marriage and the family were undermined by the universal\ncorruption in morals, which the better emperors sought in vain to check\nand restrain.\n\nBy the ascription to the imperial dignity of priestly offices and titles\nbelonging to the popular religion, it was indeed attempted to give it a\nmore sacred character and sanction. This, however, secured to the\nemperor no real accession of power. Such was the state of decay and\nweakness in which religion, no less than morals, was sunk. The\nheathenism of those days consisted in nothing but some poetical legends,\nexternal rites, and ceremonial pomp, which occasionally found a\nphilosophical interpretation, but without a proper intrinsic substance\nand coherence, and an organized priesthood--all which are to be still\nfound in the ancient religion of the Hindoos. And it was only a natural\naddition to the other numerous inconsistencies--it only rendered the\nwhole drama the more revolting, if, after an inhuman reign, and after\nbeing at last put out of the way in a very human, and, at the same time,\nvery _un_human way, the hated tyrant was in conclusion placed among the\nnational gods. And if under Aurelius and the Antonines better days\nappeared, still they were but brief and transitory, since they did not,\nand in truth could not, possess any historical confirmation and moral\nbasis like that of the hereditary monarchy of Christian times and\nstates.\n\nIn jurisprudence, not only as a science, but in its practical\nadministration, the Romans have in all ages, and even modern times, been\njustly famous. One reason, perhaps, of this was the fact, that all who\nstill retained the least sense of right and justice, withdrawing from\nthe dangers of political life and honors, retired to the still inviolate\ndomain of law, and devoted themselves to the development of the old\njuristic principles. But when the whole social frame, and the very\nprinciple of civil existence has become in its inmost essence\nunrighteous, and based on injustice, a few just laws about property, and\nrobbery, and fraud, and murder, and the like (offenses which, generally\nspeaking, are, for the most part, essentially the same in all times and\nplaces), can profit little. Equally unavailing, too, are the shrewdest\nand most sagacious of juridical treatises on such topics. To extol the\nRoman Empire on this ground would be tantamount to praising one of the\nworst and most pernicious systems of philosophical error, or excusing it\nbecause it does not violate, or, rather, because it necessarily\nobserves, the ordinary rules of logic, which, however, does not by any\nmeans lessen or remove the error, but, on the contrary, aggravates it;\nsince by rendering it so much the more specious, it does but gain for it\na more ready acceptance among men.\n\nIn the later epoch of the Christian renovation of the Roman Empire in\nthe German, the better elements of the old Roman jurisprudence were rich\nin valuable and beneficial results. Still the Christian principle of the\nstate accords better with the old Teutonic laws than with the civil\ncode, inasmuch as by the old German usages a greater regard is paid, and\na higher influence allowed, to the rights of equity. No doubt but the\nRoman jurisprudence has most acutely defined and developed this\nbeautiful notion; but it is chiefly as an exception from strict right\nthat it recognizes it at all. For such was the Roman law from its\ncommencement; and it was regarded and established as the proper province\nof equity to moderate and to soften its original sternness and severity.\nBut, according to Christian law, equity and strict right ought to be in\nevery instance intimately associated and blended together, as is,\nindeed, implied in the very idea of Christian sentiment and feeling.\n\nHerein lies, consequently, the great and essential distinction between\nRoman and Christian law. And this is the principle on which a thorough\nand systematic development of Christian jurisprudence must proceed, and\nin such a spirit alone can it be consistently carried out. A second\ndistinctive mark of Christian law and of its very conception consists in\nthis, that beyond all others, it is founded on historical rights. No\ndoubt in its simple and natural character the Germanic custom invariably\ntends toward an historical legislation, both for the burgher and for the\nprivate individual, and is so far perfectly reconcilable with the\nChristian principle of right and justice. But in the full and extensive\nsignification of the term, as it embraces the state, and all such\npowers of the civilized world as are brought by geographical contact\ninto political relations with each other, it is only the Christian\nprinciple of right that can be truly said to be historical; for none but\nthe Christian view of the world really embraces in its plans and\nconsideration the whole of mankind.\n\nHad man not fallen from the very first into dissension and discontent\nwith himself and his fellows, with nature and with God, society would\nhave stood in no need of a constraining force, or of the state to\nconstrain it. For what else is the state but an armed neutrality for the\npreservation of peace--a sword of justice against wrong, whether from\nindividuals or communities, a fortress and a bulwark against unjust\nattacks and the violence of war? And whence but from that only perfect\nsystem--the system of Christian truth and the first opening of\nrevelation--can we derive the explanation of that which is but the\npropagation of the old evil and the primal curse? Does it not furnish,\nin the first wrong and the first fratricide, the historical derivation\nand origin of the state, accounting for it as the divinely-appointed\nprotection against man\u2019s inborn tendency to injustice? And if in any\nother history or tradition a tolerably clear and definite allusion to\nsuch ideas exist, it was, without doubt, originally derived from the\nsame source.\n\nIt is, however, as in my last Lecture I have already endeavored to show,\nin the second and new divine commencement of the human race that we are\nto look for the true sanction and foundation of the state; for it is in\nthis renovation of mankind that their true intrinsic and higher peace\nwas first proclaimed and offered to him. Not, however, perfect peace,\nfor that is to be the fruit and reward of having \u201cfought a good\nfight.\u201d[58] Still it is, in the mean time, a sure and everlasting basis\nof future peace, and an ever-growing germ of tranquillity even in the\npresent. Viewed in this light, then, every human peace which is not\nmerely specious and pretended, but honestly intended, and in so far\nChristian, however imperfect and partial, forms, nevertheless, a step in\nthe great scale of progression--an approximation and a preparation to\nthat universal and all-embracing peace of God which is higher than all\nreason, and all the disputes which arise out of or about it.\n\nIf injustice and wrong should ever disappear totally from the earth--if\nthe peace of God were actually established thereon, then would the end\nof law be attained, and all institutions for its accomplishment would\nbecome superfluous. Law presupposes a condition of struggle, and is\nintended to endure as long as it lasts. It is itself nothing less than a\nstruggle against wrong. The Christian view, accordingly, and theory of\nlaw, is far higher. In a scientific point of view, too, it alone is\nsatisfactory on this account, that it recognizes a higher principle as\nthe source of right, or as right itself, and that it alone contains in\nitself the historical key for the whole, and embraces at once the\nbeginning and the end. But now the Christian idea of right is thus\nhistorical, not merely because it furnishes a complete explanation of\nthe first beginning of wrong, and gives an historical derivation of the\ndivine sanction of the state; but also in this sense, that in obedience\nto the principle of equity, as extended to the wider relations of\npolitical life, and to the law of toleration founded on this feeling, it\nrespects even the imperfect and inferior degrees of right, whenever, at\nleast, they are the unavoidable results of a previous course of things,\nand possess an historical foundation, and are established as less evil,\nand at least as comparatively good. And this explains, what is otherwise\nincomprehensible, how the Christian sense of right could reconcile\nitself to the absolute form, or, rather, formlessness of the later Roman\nworld, and being gradually associated and fused therewith, led to its\ncomplete renovation in the exalted phenomenon of a Christian empire.\n\nThis peace-loving and tolerant recognition of imperfect political\nconstitutions and forms of state is only applicable, however, where the\nabsolute and the pernicious had its foundation in some historical\noccasion, and where, by a natural course of development, the evil has\nfollowed as the result of some previous defective condition of the\npolitical body. It has no place where the evil is radical and of\nspontaneous growth, as in the empire of Mohammed, and of his immediate\nsuccessors; for a fanatical lust of conquest was introduced in the first\ngerm of this dynasty, and indeed formed its foundation and its animating\nand vital principle. The brilliant success and personal talents of the\nfirst caliphs may indeed win our admiration and chain our imagination,\nbut still in the very worst times of the old Roman world absolute power\nnever presented itself in so unmitigated a form as it does in this\nempire of deadly fanaticism. This is the calm judgment of history. In\nthe former case the evil sprung chiefly from the personal caprice of\nindividual tyrants; in the latter, the pervading principle was\ndespotism, which, on the whole, remained unchanged in the most famous\nand greatest characters. For such immutability is an essential principle\nof despotism whenever the spiritual and the temporal power are held by\nthe same hand, and are united in one common center and sovereign.\n\nIn another point of view also, that, viz., of the moral estimate, the\nhistorical comparison between the old Roman and the Mohammedan empires\nturns out to the disadvantage of the latter. In the latter times of the\nRoman Empire, the family relations, and the sacred ties of married life,\nwere no doubt greatly disturbed and perverted by the prevailing tone of\nimmorality. But among the Mohammedans they were entirely overthrown by a\nfalse religion. Even in this respect, therefore, it is evident that\nthere could be no place in the latter for that moral foundation of a\nlong-established family unity, such as a civilized state like the\nChristian monarchy requires. It is nothing strange, consequently, if in\nthe times of the Arabian dynasty, the Mohammedan state stood in more\ndecided opposition, and proved less reconcilable to the Christian polity\nthan ever heathenism did in the days of ancient Rome. But,\nnotwithstanding this, we find, on the other side, the Christian\nprinciple of peace extending itself even to the historical phenomena and\npolitical relations of the Mohammedan world. For the most part (and in a\ngreater degree with the advance of time) these events have been judged\nin that mild spirit of historical justice which, in its complete and\ncomprehensive estimate, allows a due consideration to every motive and\ncircumstance.\n\nMoreover, a high principle of toleration has extended to them the\nbenefit of the international laws of Christian states--a policy which\nonly requires to be rightly understood to be pronounced in no ways\ndeserving of blame or reprobation; for the evil can only be radically\nextirpated by the complete triumph of Christian truth over the false\nfoundation and leading idea of this fanatical delusion.\n\nBut, however improbable it may seem, regarded merely in an historical\nlight, that the Mohammedan races will ever adopt Christian sentiments,\nmorals, and principles, still in the great course of mundane things, or,\nin other words, in the counsels of Providence, nothing, however it may\ncontradict human expectations, can rightly be held to be impossible.\nAnd, indeed, recent times furnish many speaking indications of a growing\ntendency to such an approximation. Many signs might be pointed out,\nwhich, while they bear witness to a widening and deepening feeling of\nits desirableness, encourage us to entertain higher and better hopes. To\npromote, and indeed to co-operate in bringing about so great and divine\na consummation, so long as it can be done without violating higher\nduties and principles, does not appear to go in any degree beyond the\nsphere of a truly Christian and pacific policy, or to interfere with the\nrelations which it is right to observe in regard to non-Christian\nstates. On the contrary, the worst violation thereof, and one that most\nsurely menaces danger and mischief, is for a Christian state, in direct\nopposition to its natural principle and vocation, to be seized and\nactuated by a fanatical lust of conquest similar to that which animated\nthe Saracens. Such a subversion and confusion of all moral ideas, and of\npolitical life, was publicly manifested, for the first time in the\nChristian world, during the French Revolution. Breaking out with furious\nviolence, in the brief period of its duration it developed itself with\nfearful rapidity. How many, or, rather, how few steps it would have\nrequired, had its reign been longer, to convert it into a military\ndespotism, thoroughly heathenish, such as the Revolution indeed was from\nbeginning to end; into a despotism which, like that of the caliphate\nalready mentioned, should unite in the same person all spiritual, as\nwell as temporal authority, we need not here further investigate. The\ndreadful possibility of such a contingency has been brought only too\nclosely home to our fears.\n\nThe essence of despotism, as I said before, lies in the union in one\nperson of the civil and spiritual powers--or in a most anomalous state,\nwhich is, by a rare and faulty combination, at once spiritual and\ntemporal. And since the distinction between the two powers is involved\nin the very notion of a Christian state, it is of the highest importance\nthat the state should carefully observe and respect the boundaries\nbetween the two domains. It is extremely difficult to establish any\ngeneral standard for all the cases of collision between the two that\neither have actually occurred or are conceivably possible. For it is\nevident that this contingency must be modified in an infinite number of\nways, by existing treaties, the local circumstances and political\nconstitution of the different states. The chief point is the general\nspirit and feeling. The question turns principally on good will and\nhonest intentions; but pre-eminently on a right conception of both\npowers, as alike possessing in their respective spheres a higher\nsanction, a divine foundation, and a sacred character. This must be\nrecognized in every case and time, and all circumstances belonging to\neither sphere must be treated accordingly.\n\nMany and serious cases of such collision between the church and the\nstate have occurred and are perpetually recurring. Many and grave errors\nhave been committed on both sides. But for the most part they have been\nunfairly judged, or, rather, misjudged, through ignorance both of the\ntimes, and of the actual circumstances of the case. The day is not long\ngone by when in this respect it was the habitual rule to subject certain\nof the early popes especially to an unqualified vituperation and\ncensure. And it must be told, to the praise of German impartiality, that\nProtestant writers were the first, by their historical researches, to do\njustice to and to form a fair estimate of these, in their day, truly\ngreat and eminent characters. Still we do not by any means pretend to\ndeny that both in these and later times grave blame rests with many of\nthe popes individually. On neither side, however, and at no time, were\nthe limits which divide the two powers overstepped so far as they were\nby Henry VIII. of England, that absolute monarch in temporals, and who\nwished also to be equally supreme in spirituals. The most despotic\nsovereign that ever sat on the throne of England, by founding [the\nindependence of] the Anglican Church,[59] became undesignedly and\nunconsciously the true author of that much-lauded constitution of\nEngland, which, essentially resting on this foundation, furnishes the\nonly instance of a dynamical polity, as the only remedy of an otherwise\nincurable tendency to division and anarchy, attaining to a highly\nperfect shape and development. As for the schism in the faith, which in\nthese latter times has in so many Christian countries made the problem\nof religion only the more difficult, and its relation to the state more\ndelicate and liable to aggression, it has in England, through this\nroyal reformer, assumed so complicated a shape that, unsolved as yet, it\nappears to many, judging of it in a merely human light, totally and\nforever incapable of solution.\n\nWe must reserve to the succeeding Lecture the enumeration of all the\nresults which flow from these premises, and this first outline of a\ntruly Christian justice, which as such involves the principle of equity,\nand is even truly historical.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XIV.\n\nOF THE DIVISION OF RANKS, AND OF THE RECIPROCAL RELATIONS OF STATES\nACCORDING TO THE CHRISTIAN IDEA.--OF SCIENCE AS A POWER; OF ITS\nCONSTITUTION, AND OF THE RIGHT REGULATION OF IT.\n\n\nWhenever philosophy, setting up any conceit of its own as a principle,\nintrudes either into the domain of religion or of politics, such an\nintrusion is, in every case, an aggression. And if the aggressive idea,\nonce formed and entertained, is, nevertheless, externally and in\nappearance held in check and restrained--if, from ulterior\nconsiderations and for the sake of some remote object, science\naccommodates itself to the established system of law or religion--then\nis the case only so much the worse. The deep and pervading hostility of\nsentiment is but concealed beneath the external servility of language,\nand the rankling wound has but skinned over the surface. The influence\nof evil is far from being checked and destroyed; or, to say the least,\nthat of good is nipped in the bud, not being allowed fully to expand\nitself. And at the same time the dignity of science, which can only be\nmaintained by its independence, is fatally and irretrievably endangered.\n\nUnder this conviction, I strongly protested, at the very opening of\nthese Lectures, against all such intermeddling of philosophy with\nmatters foreign to it; and I trust that, for my part, I have hitherto\nduly observed the spirit of that protest. But now, the end which\nphilosophy strives to attain to is a right estimate and full\nunderstanding of its own nature, and that of man, both in the internal\nproperties of his mind and in his external existence relatively to God\nand nature, and also to the world and society. In pursuit of this\nobject, having once found and acknowledged the center of the inner life,\nsuch as it is given to us, and setting out therefrom, philosophy can and\nmay, with perfect propriety, submit to investigation the highest ideas\nof life, and judge them after its own method, and from its own peculiar\nposition. But still it will do this in the hope rather of explaining\nwhat actually exists, than of establishing any self-devised ideal of\nits own, or of setting up impracticable laws for a merely conceivable\nstate of things under the most arbitrary assumptions--for a wholly\nvisionary world.\n\nConsistently, then, with this notion of philosophy, and under this\nlimitation, I have not, I think, deviated in the latter Lectures from\nthe law I originally laid down. Inasmuch, however, as the exposition of\na philosophy of life must necessarily be _vivid_, and consequently\nrequires to be interspersed with historical views and examples, I must\nrequest you, looking principally to the ideas which form the essential\nfoundation of these discourses, to judge the latter by the pervading\ntenor and connection of the thoughts rather than by the several\nallusions and instances which I have introduced for the mere purpose of\nillustration. All that is merely personal in the interpretation passed\nupon those events will, I trust, be looked upon as the private opinions,\nindeed, but still the unprejudiced conclusions, of an individual.\n\nIn the course of these Lectures I attempted, first of all, to establish\na firm foundation for the human soul, considered both in its own proper\nnature and with regard to its most essential relations in life to nature\nand to God. In the next place, by investigating the order of the divine\ndispensations in nature, and in the realms of truth and history, it was\nmy endeavor to obtain for it a wider and more solid basis. Lastly, I\noccupied myself with tracing the course which the Spirit of Eternal\nTruth pursues in science and in life, and the shapes which in its\nprogress toward perfection it successively assumes. Accordingly, I have\npointed out to you, first of all, how this Spirit of Eternal Truth is\never one and the same in the highest science and in divine faith; then,\nhow victoriously it comes forth out of the conflict between faith and\ninfidelity; and, in conclusion, I showed you that, far from being\nconfined to the narrow region of science, it may and rightly ought to\nenter with an earnest influence into life itself. How the latter duty is\nactually fulfilled we endeavored to show, by considering the symbolical\nsignification of life, and, as derived therefrom, its higher sanction\nand divine foundation, especially in public life and the state. And\nherein the idea of a universal Christian and truly historical justice\nfound a closer application and wider development. And this formed the\nsubject of our last disquisition.\n\nI there sought to elucidate this idea solely and entirely from history.\nFor this purpose I endeavored, by means of historical instances, to set\nin a clear, discriminating light the opposite and divergent notions of\nan absolute and of a dynamical or limited monarchy, so far at least as\nregards the essential features and characteristic constitution of each.\nAs instances of the former, I pointed to the old Roman world and the\nempire of the caliphs, while the latter was elucidated by the English\nconstitution, in which, as yet, it has attained to its highest and most\nperfect development. This is, no doubt, a master-piece of political\nwisdom, wherein an intractable spirit of opposition being adopted, as it\nwere, into the very constitution, is thereby rendered legitimate and its\nevil tendency is held in check. Still the principle of it can not\nrightly be viewed in any other light than the wise procedure of the\nphysician who, in the case of an inevitable epidemic, resolves to\ninoculate the disease in order to be able to control it the better, and\nby watching more closely its crisis, to regulate its course and issue.\n\nIn its true historical place, therefore, this constitution finds its\nsatisfactory explanation and justification; or, rather, deserves our\nhighest praise, the fullest acknowledgment of its merits, and even our\nadmiration. But inasmuch as every feature of it is thoroughly historical\nand national, and since the slightest local diversity in the character\nof a people or nation might with different relations and circumstances\ngive rise to wants and difficulties little expected or dreamed of, we\nmust be cautious how we seek to introduce it elsewhere. In the arts it\nis ever a sorry business to imitate great works of original genius. By\nsuch a course little but _manner_ is multiplied. So it is rarely a\nfelicitous idea to suppose that a constitution, though copied from ever\nso lauded a model, must be suited to all nations alike, and must prove a\nuniversal and unfailing source of political felicity--a tree of liberty,\nwhich we may transplant at pleasure, or, as it were, a constitutional\nbill of exchange, which, once endorsed we may put in circulation.\n\nBut if the true Gordian knot in that master-piece of polity, the English\nconstitution, remains still an unsolved problem, since that war of\nreligious opinion, which seems at every moment to be threatening an\noutbreak, is as yet, with consummate skill and prudence, kept under and\nrestrained within its recognized limits, we may see in this fact a\nfurther confirmation and justification of the encomiums we recently\npassed upon the religious peace which has become for us in Germany as\nit were a second nature, and which, in the place of such a constitution,\nis to us the guaranty of mental freedom and the pledge of a higher unity\nthan one simply political. It is not a mere dead letter, but it is a\nliving power enshrined in the minds of men. And if occasionally some\nrash expression in a great and influential writer, or any grievous act\non the part of a powerful and leading political character, may seem to\nmenace violence to this religious peace, the general feeling soon\npronounces itself against such indiscretion, and the single note of\ndiscord is quickly brought in unison with the general harmony, or else\ndies away without producing any deep or widely-prejudicial consequences.\nNot, indeed, that the existing differences in religious opinion are a\nthing desirable--we mean any thing but that by our encomiums on the\nreligious peace. What we really mean is, that in the present state of\nthings such a peace is of the very highest value, and one whose great\nblessing can only be appreciated fully by those who enjoy it. And\nnothing but a comparison with other civilized nations in this respect\ncan enable us to understand and to form a full estimate of its value.\nAnd if every ordinary treaty of peace between states, whenever it is\nsettled on true and lasting foundations and sincerity of purpose, has an\ninfluence on the inward development of mind or spirit in the course of\nhistory, and affords, as it were, a calm presage of a higher and a more\nuniversal peace of God, how can we look upon this peculiar and internal\npeace between men\u2019s minds in any other light than as a token of a richer\nand fuller future, and as a symbol of ultimate perfection and unity?\n\nIn our notice of the schism in the faith we made allusion to the\npossibility of a collision between the two highest and most sacred\npowers, the civil and the spiritual, according to the distinction\ninvolved in the very idea of the Christian life. In order, therefore, to\navoid every possible misconception, it seems to be necessary, or, at\nleast, not a superfluous task, to add one brief remark on the extreme\ncase when, in such an unfortunate collision, right and justice are\nopenly violated and set at defiance. If the civil power be the party\nattacked and unduly interfered with in its legitimate province, it has a\nperfect right to defend itself, as, indeed, in our days, it is quite\nable and knows well how to do. The only thing that apparently remains to\nbe desired is, that in the exercise of this right it should observe, as\nindeed becomes the stronger side, the greatest moderation. But if, on\nthe contrary, the aggression proceeds from this side, and the spiritual\npower is attacked, then it ought to bear in mind that its legitimate\nopposition to the civil power ought to assume a material character. Its\nresistance must never be public and open violence, nor, either directly\nor indirectly, by means of what we may call _machinations_, for such a\nproceeding would undermine the sacred foundations of public confidence,\nand shake the whole edifice of moral order and society. In the case of\nsuch an aggression, religion would deprive herself of her duly-acquired\nposition in the state. But this, so long as the latter remains\nChristian, religion itself never can and never will do, as neither will\nthose whose duty it is to guide and to minister it in a truly reverent\nand pious spirit.\n\nThe only opposition, therefore, that the spiritual power can rightly and\njustly make to the aggression of the state must be of a passive nature.\nIt is not necessary to lay down any elaborate and rigorous distinctions\nfor such an emergency; for such definitions rarely meet the complicated\nvariety and special character of every possible or even every actual\ncase. A few historical examples, which readily present themselves, will\nserve briefly and perspicuously to illustrate the view of duty which we\nwish to enforce. In the unfortunate case of a great and public collision\nbetween the Church and the State, the model of a just and legitimate\nresistance on the part of the spiritual power has been furnished by the\nconduct of that venerable old man,[60] whom half of Europe regarded as\ninvested with the highest priestly and apostolical dignity. With calm\nfortitude, even in bonds, he refused to yield to the military despot,\nand won the personal esteem and admiration likewise of that other half\nof Europe which denied his spiritual authority. Or, to take an example\nfrom a more limited sphere, and of a more personal nature, we may appeal\nto the history of the patron saint of Bohemia, which, at least, can not\nbe classed among the legends, and which, in any case, will afford a\nbeautiful and simple example of a noble, perfectly-allowable resistance\nof a spiritual party against the injustice of the political head of the\nnation. By such passive resistance, and by such alone, did Christianity,\nin the earliest centuries, though so unattractive and so lowly at its\nfirst commencement, gradually attain a secure external foundation, and\nbecome the religion of the whole civilized world. A public outbreak, and\neven a secret feeling of discontent between the spiritual and the\ntemporal power, between Church and State, is, at all times, and in every\ncase, a great evil, threatening and bringing danger and ruin on both.\nFor the state, as being ultimately founded on a religious basis,\nundermines its own foundation by assuming a hostile attitude toward\nreligion. No financial difficulties, or any such partial calamities,\nwill ever ruin a people so long as any moral energy still exists in the\nwhole body, and it is consequently sound at the core. Political\nskepticism, which is the immediate and necessary consequence of\ninfidelity in religion, is the true cause and origin of the decay of\nnations. These two vital principles of human society, therefore--these\ntwo powers, however essentially and necessarily distinct--must work\ntogether in perfect peace and unity. For the one can only flourish where\nthe soil has been rendered morally fertile by the other, while the\nlatter can not exercise its full influence except under the sanction of\nthe political power. If religion were at unity in itself, and totally\nfree from party and controversy, and the state, as the public life, were\nin perfect harmony with it, and thoroughly pervaded by its life-giving\nspirit, humanity would, by such a consummation, have made a great step\nin advance toward that divine peace for which every human pacification,\nhowever imperfect, is the expression of a profound and imperishable\nlonging--of a pursuit which, though ever attaining, is still never\nwholly abandoned.\n\nHowever, the alienation and separation of the civil and spiritual powers\nseems to belong peculiarly and essentially to, or, rather, to be a\nnecessary law of, the present condition of humanity, still involved in\nstruggle with evil, and not yet having attained to the end of its\nendeavors. It is much older than men think. It must have existed in the\nfirst ages of the world, and in the earliest stage of the Gentile\nreligion. For among the Hindoos, who, as they are the most ancient\npeople that we are acquainted with, are also the most authentic monument\nthat remains of the primeval condition of the human race, we find this\nseparation formally and definitely established. It there forms an\ninsurmountable barrier between the regal and the sacerdotal dignity. On\nthis point it would not be advisable to direct our attention exclusively\nor even principally to the condition of the priestly class among the\nGreeks and Romans, since, in the later epochs of these nations,\nGentilism had greatly degenerated, and in the more civilized days of\nthese people had lost all its essential forms, and its true spirit had\ndisappeared. But, with that still more ancient people of the Hindoos,\nthe same unchanged law still exists in these days as in the very\nearliest times. A Brahmin who should attempt to ascend the throne or\nusurp its powers, or a rajah who should wish to be as a Brahmin, or to\nsuppress and annihilate the Brahminical caste, would be universally\nregarded as an abomination. The attempt, on either side, would appear an\noffense against human nature and divine laws. For a mixture or confusion\nof castes signifies to the Hindoos the very abomination of anarchy; and\nby this term, in one characteristic word of their language, they\ndesignate all revolutionary times, even though, we must observe, such\nperiods among the Hindoos were never more than brief and transitory, the\nwaves of anarchy breaking harmlessly against the everlasting rocks of\nthis ancient and solidly-compact system.\n\nBesides the many other traces of family affinity between the Indian and\nTeutonic races, another is furnished by the Germanic constitution, which\nforms the political basis of most European kingdoms. In India the noble\nclass who most especially are bound to military service forms also the\ncaste of the lords of the soil; and from their latter character they\nalso derive their name as a class.[61] Some of the most general and most\nancient features of the feudal system have likewise been discovered\namong them, though not, indeed, its more artificial and complicated\nsystem, to which feudalism was in later times developed among European\nnations. To this landed nobility belong the nabobs and even the rajahs.\nFor it was left open to the fluctuating fortunes of different families\nto rise or to fall from the summit of political dignity. Between the\nseveral grades of honor accessible to a particular caste no\ninsurmountable barrier was raised; all were open to all the members of\nthe same rank or caste.\n\nThe democratical writers of a recent era, in obedience to a sentiment\nnatural enough to their false system, have expressed a deep horror and\nstrong aversion to this institution of castes among the Hindoos,\nstamping it on every occasion with the strongest marks of reprobation.\nViewing it, however, in an historical light, I for my part am disposed\nto think that it is to this ancient and hereditary institution, however\nmuch of imperfection it undoubtedly involves, that this great and\npopulous country owes that firm stability of its laws and customs, and\nthat indestructible prosperity which the various conquests it has\nundergone both in ancient and modern times have been unable to shake or\nto undermine. No doubt the Indian gradation of ranks wants the stamp of\nperfection and mildness which belongs to Christian politics. And in this\nrespect the comparison is especially instructive. It serves to draw\nattention to, and strongly illustrates the fact, that a Christian\ndivision of ranks is, in some points, different in its principle, and\nthe very opposite to the correspondent state of things in the old world,\nas yet unrefined and purified by this divine element. For, first of all,\naccording to the Christian idea, the spiritual class can not depend upon\nbirth; it must possess a higher and peculiar vocation. This order,\nconsequently, can not recruit itself merely by birth, but must derive\nits members from the other classes which are hereditary. But in\nconsequence of this principle, the partition-wall, otherwise impassable\nand absolute, between the other ranks, which, taken on the whole, are\nhereditary, is so far removed, that exceptional cases occur when these\nbarriers are opened to merit or other important considerations. It is a\nself-evident fact, requiring no elaborate argument for its proof, that\nthe Christian sentiment, or, as we have here expressed it, that\nprinciple of equity so universally and essentially interwoven with the\nChristian idea of justice, demands that every alleviation of their\ntoilsome and oppressive lot should be afforded to the industrious\nclasses. To those on whom the accident of birth, as the world speaks,\nor, as we should prefer to say, a higher and a divine Providence, has\nlaid all the hardships of life, it is but just that every privilege\nshould be conceded that does not militate against the general welfare,\nor the private rights of individuals. And in the same spirit, every\npolitical constitution that is organically arranged and founded on a\nChristian, and, consequently, modified separation of ranks, will\nattentively observe and engraft into its old constitutional stock every\nnew historical shoot. A great and instructive example of the kind is at\nhand. In the Teutonic constitutions of the middle ages, and especially\nin the Germanic Empire, cities and trades, which at an earlier period\nhad formed a very immaterial and comparatively insignificant element in\nthe whole--in short, the growing burgher classes were, at their very\nfirst appearance, understood humanly and politically--received a great\norganic development, and taken into a living combination with the old.\n\nIn all probability our own deeply-agitated times, which assuredly\ndeserve not to be called unfruitful, even though, together with the good\nfruit, they may also produce many a false blossom, give birth to much\nthat is new indeed, but which is, nevertheless, or at least may\neventually become, historical. The phenomena of the present, therefore,\ndemand our most careful consideration, lest any negligence in this case\nshould inevitably involve us in disaster, and bring on us a natural\nhistorical retribution. An exclusive and narrow aristocracy, or, if we\nmust say so, one senselessly insisting on its privileges, such as in the\nearlier part of the last century was probably to be met with in a few\ncountries, is, to the true friend of the ancient order of things, the\nmost painful phenomenon. It is its own greatest enemy--since, by an\nhistorical law of antagonism and reaction, one extreme inevitably calls\nforth the other sooner or later. Hereditary monarchy, as it is the\noldest form of polity in history, so, if it is maintained in the mild\nand moderate spirit of the Christian state, is likely to survive all\nothers, and to be the last in force among the human race; for a state\nwhich is founded and established on the Christian principle of an\nequitable distinction and division of ranks, must, in every calm and\nunprejudiced judgment, deserve the preference over the artificial\nconstitution of a dynamical balance of powers; for the necessary\nequipoise is liable to be disturbed by the restless agitation to which\nthe latter form of polity is exposed. And it is only, therefore, in\ncomparison with an absolute despotism that the dynamical theory can\nappear desirable and win so many adherents, while the former, on the\nother hand, as the only remedy for popular anarchy, if administered with\ntalent and energy, becomes not only tolerable, but acquires even an\nhistorical justification.\n\nEach of these two extremes, the absolute and the dynamical, admit,\nhowever, of a wider application than merely to single states and their\ndifferent forms, according to the fluctuation of the times between\nprosperity and adversity. For the entire system of Christian states\nthroughout the civilized world may in their mutual relations and\nconfederations depend principally on the absolute preponderance of some\nleading power which holds the others in subjection or rules them. But\nthis is an authority which all are ready to throw off, and is never\nwillingly acknowledged or submitted to. Or, perhaps, the whole political\nworld may, on the dynamical theory, be based on the balance of power,\neach state being held in check by the rest. This was the reigning system\nof the eighteenth century, and at its first foundation was admired as\nthe perfection of a wise policy. In experience, however, it has proved\ninadequate and practically untenable. The only case where it seems to\nadmit of application is that of a division embracing the whole globe,\nbut based on geographical relations; but even in such a case it could\nonly serve to check mutual injury, and not to promote any salutary end.\n\nIn the middle ages, as soon as the German Empire, having fallen from its\noriginal purity, had become totally false to its Christian principle, it\nfound, according to the spirit of the times, a salutary check and\ncounterpoise in the Church. And that iron character of the Ghibellines,\nwhich was exhibited no less strikingly in individuals and morals than in\npolitics and counsels of state, affords the best justification for this\nantagonism, as well as for the opposite great party of the Guelphs, with\ntheir milder bearing and sentiments.\n\nBut now that this ancient division and conflict of the spiritual and the\ntemporal powers is in these enlightened times a bygone thing, and in the\nolder sense is extinct forever--since it seems mankind can not do\nwithout antagonism of some kind, we have, instead of it, an elementary\none between land and water. A political schism variously manifests\nitself between the ocean and the continent. In fact, that great Island\nKingdom which traverses and rules the ocean, and by founding colonies\nand settlements wherever it listeth or thinketh profitable, puts forth,\nas it were, the feelers of universal dominion, is properly an empire of\nthe sea. For in contradistinction from a kingdom we may call every\nmonarchy an empire which comprises in itself several other peoples and\nnations of divers races and political constitutions. In such a sense we\nhave contrasted this maritime empire with the Continent. But although\nexperience has shown the possibility of such a division of the whole\nworld and political alienation of the two elements of land and water\nthroughout the globe, it has also established a conviction that though\nthese two divisions might do incalculable injury and mischief to each\nother, no permanent or decided supremacy of either would follow,\ninasmuch as a medium for maintaining the dependence of either is\nwanting. And as it is only in some urgent need of the times to find some\ncounterpoise to absolute power, or an apprehension of it, that a\ndynamical state or the tendency to it finds its justification, so it was\nonly during the transient reign of a despotic lust of conquest, and as a\ncheck to it, that this maritime power could have risen so high as it has\nin the opinion of the Continental states.\n\nSince then, however, the great powers of Europe have had a different\ninterest to pursue, and their political counsels have been directed to\nthe preservation of peace rather than to selfish aggrandizement. For\nthey have all had to contend with a common enemy in the restless spirit\nof the age, which is yet very far from being conquered and subdued. If,\nthen, an absolute preponderance of a single state is hateful to all, and\na dynamical balance of power in the general state-system is either\ninadequate for such an end, or else does not admit of application, is it\nnot at least conceivable that a higher principle of Christian justice\nmight be substituted for these which are equally defective? Might not a\ncommon point of moral unity be found and established for the European\nstates? Must this sublime idea ever be nothing more than the noble\nenthusiasm of a magnanimous character? And is it to be regarded as\nimpossible merely because it is imbedded in difficulties? But is not all\nthat is great also difficult? Still, inasmuch as this exalted political\nunity must have a purely spiritual basis in the sentiments of men, a\nprecipitate or violent attempt to bring it about must inevitably\nmiscarry. It would not only militate against, but also corrupt the\noriginal purity of the very idea. It must be universally recognized\nbefore it can, in the contest with the evil principle of the day, become\na salutary power of good, or furnish for the political relations a\ngeneral basis of Christian justice. The one extreme of political Europe,\nwith its absolute polity, which moreover has fallen very low from its\nformer preponderance, seems excluded by the very nature of things from\nthe idea of such a unity. But if it be true that it is gradually\nbecoming more and more European, a character in which, until very\nlately, it has rarely been regarded, then a modified kind of subordinate\nconnection with such a general principle of association among European\nstates, does not seem necessarily inadmissible or inconsistent. The\nother extreme of Europe, with its dynamical constitution, had, in an\nopposition, moderate indeed in form and conditionally, more than half\nrenounced this idea. In the opinion, however, of many competent judges,\nthis renunciation is much more decided, and must exercise a great and\nunfavorable effect on the harmony of the whole. The moral want of our\nage, judged by this or some similar idea, is the necessity which was so\nkeenly felt upon its deliverance from the general yoke of a military\naggression, of a moral and intrinsic regeneration of Europe. And this\nunity is not to be derived from and set up merely in science, but must\nbe felt as a living energy in life itself. But how is such an inner\nrestoration to be brought about and effected in Christian states, but by\na complete renewal and invigoration of their religious foundation? And\ninasmuch as this want actually exists and is felt, the problem which is\nto supply it must be regarded as an historical one; and consequently the\nhistorical development of the times--abstracted from the accidental form\nof the first essays at its solution--will sooner or later carry us to\nall that is most essential in the idea.\n\nFormerly, in the medieval times, the German Empire claimed to be this\nChristian center of unity for the states of Europe--although, in truth,\nit was far from embracing the whole system of European states. Latterly,\nin the new political theory, the mutual relation of nations has become\ngradually republican. And this new form has consequently been\naccompanied with imperfections and difficulties and almost inextricable\nperplexities. Is it, then, probable that in the commencing or\nrecently-commenced era of history, a firm, compact, but vast corporation\nof states, founded on a principle of Christian justice, can be\nsubstituted for and gradually evolved out of the two previous ones,\nwhich are now found wholly inadequate for the ends they were designed to\nmeet? As a mere historical probability we may well allow this idea to\nstand.\n\nTotally different from those idle speculations of an endless peace,\nwhich, for the sake of mere intellectual amusement and discussion,\nphilosophy was used to advance in the schools, is this thoroughly-practical\nthought of a confederation of states based on the principle of\nChristian justice and vitally connected with religion as the most\ngeneral center of humanity. And the latter must be regarded as the\nessential condition of its internal consistency and permanence.\nAt least we may safely advance the following as the result of a\nphilosophical consideration of history. An exalted and universal\nreligious peace of this kind, and proceeding from such a principle, in\nwhich, by a peaceful approximation, not only the two parties in the\nfaith should be reconciled and finally united, but also the spiritual\nand the secular powers, the Church and the State, should be allied\ntogether in the profoundest harmony, is, properly speaking, the very\nthing which mankind most stands in need of. But this desirable result\nnever can and never will be attained until all shall be united in\npervading harmony with religion and with life, especially with public\nlife or the state, so that all these three principles or fundamental\nelements of human existence may work together with one aim and purpose.\nSuch a state of profound internal peace would be something more than\na simple political peace, with its transient blessings. It would be a\nsacred peace of God and the higher spirits, or at least the precursor\nand the best initiation thereto. This, however, is not to be effected\nby diplomatic skill no more than by scientific hypotheses. It can only\nbe brought about by the immediate operation of God, and by that divine\nenergy which from the beginning has sustained and still sustains the\nsystem of the universe. Philosophy, accordingly, must content itself\nwith pointing to this end and this sustaining power, and also with\ncalling attention to all the traces historically furnished which tend\nin the same direction. And since the great conflict of the age draws\nall powers into its vortex more violently than ever, it may be allowed\nto be sufficient for us to have hazarded a glance toward this glorious\nconsummation; and we now will turn our attention to the development\nof intellect and intellectual powers as at present involved in the\nas yet undecided conflict. Thus much at least must be clear, that if\nscience, religion, and the state, and the several powers, parties, and\ninfluences belonging to each of these domains, is, as hitherto, to\npursue each its own way in opposition to the rest, then will all hasten\nagain with rapid strides into a state of chaotic confusion. It may,\ntherefore, well be permitted us to endeavor to hold up before men, in\nas strong a light as possible, this better hope, and to furnish them\nwith every possible confirmation of it both from science and history.\n\nIf our age be as yet far from healthy--if it be still in a sickly state,\nif the first fearful crisis has not totally expelled the diseased\nmatter--if, on the contrary, the general European body in many of its\nmembers is still infected with the virus which has penetrated into the\ninmost and secret marrow of life--if the source of the malady lie in\nfalse ideas, or the total absence of right ones, or, in other words, in\nphilosophical error, which has spread in indefinite vagueness and\nendless hair-splitting over the whole of public and private life, and in\na skepticism no less political than religious--then, since the external\nrefutation rarely avails any thing, our first object must be\nintrinsically to conquer and to banish this error by truth, and the\nspirit of truth in that higher science which is genuine and lawful and\ndirects itself to divine things.\n\nThe restless anarchical spirit of the times, or the perverted absolute\nspirit--for they are essentially one and the same, is yet a spirit--it\nmay be a superficial, shallow, sensual, and negative one, but still a\nspirit, and therefore can not be overcome by any mere negation, but on\nthe contrary only struggles against it with renewed bitterness and\nconsequently more vigorous resistance. As opposed to the divine spirit\nof truth, however, it appears an unsubstantial nullity, and soon\nvanishes into its own vanity.\n\nA direct controversy with error entails one disadvantage. By such a\ncourse the latter is unduly acknowledged for a positive power of evil.\nBut in reality it only becomes so conditionally, through the atomistic\nsplitting and diffusion of false ideas, and by the mass of its\nfollowers, when once every thing is resolved into elementary\ndecomposition. Moreover, one extreme of exaggeration, whenever in\ncontroversy we enter into it and get involved in it, easily introduces\nits opposite, which then again is on its side carried too far--or which\neven, though strictly and literally it be right enough, is yet asserted\nwith too little of limitation, and applied with unsalutary rigor. It is,\ntherefore, a lamentable mistake if men of great and deserving talents,\nwho from a scientific point of view have devoted themselves to the great\ntask of morally regenerating the age, have adopted a too decidedly\npolemical tendency. For it is partly through exclusively following such\na course that their influence for good has been so narrow and limited,\nand has not met with a more general and more unqualified success.\n\nIf men would only, first and before all things, endeavor to set forth\nwith all possible vividness the intrinsic unity which subsists between\nhigher science with a divine faith, and develop it for its own sake,\nwithout passion or interest, the further results on life of applied\ntruth would follow spontaneously. From this simple and pure source they\nwould continue to flow in ample and widening streams over the whole\ndomain and all its relations. God is truth, and simply on this account\nthe spirit of truth in a good and true science must even be divine. Its\nproper aim is, accordingly, directed to the divine; and on this account\nthere can not be such a thing as an indifferent science. For every\nscience which is not directed to the divine is shallow, superficial,\nsensuously negative, and idly rationalizing. On this account it is\nfalse, and must consequently prove, in its external effects, nothing\nless than evil, injurious, and destructive.\n\nIt is in regard to all this that I have classed science, together with\nreligion and a Christianly-regulated state, as the third power of good.\nAlthough merely intellectual [_geistige_,] it is of great moment in the\nconflict which all have to wage against the destructive principles which\nso fearfully menace our age. The power of science, it is true, can only\nproduce an effect in an intellectual sphere, but this intellectual\nsphere is of itself of great influence on every other circle of human\noperation. Religion has for its immediate object the soul and its\nsalvation, or its union with God; and this is its peculiar region; but\nstill it comes in various ways in contact with the higher science, and\npenetrates deeply into actual and also into public life. But it is the\nstate, as the organic form of the latter, by which the divine as law,\nand as a higher idea of justice, modified and completed with that of\nclemency and equity, is first introduced into reality of actual and\ncorporeal existence, and this historical and sensible world. But the\nstate itself has no other than a religious foundation. It is built upon\nreligion, but also requires the support of science.\n\nBy the visible relation, and that parallel similitude which\nspontaneously suggests itself between these three great moral powers in\npublic life--philosophy, religion, and government--and that original\ntriple principle of the human consciousness, as consisting of body,\nsoul, and spirit, as the simple but fundamental idea of Christian\nphilosophy (however the latter may insist on this basis in confirmation\nof its utility in living application), we do not for one moment mean to\nmaintain, or propose, a total separation or estrangement of these three\nspheres. This would be quite unnatural. For in a political, as well as\nin a psychological sense, these three primary principles must co-operate\nand be intimately blended together to produce a complete and perfect\nresult in the sphere of any one individually.\n\nIf, as we are perfectly justified, we have been considering science, at\nleast that which is true and divine, as a power of a higher kind, we\nmust still remember that it is not so in the same way as religion or\ngovernment. The latter rests on a divine foundation of eternal justice;\nand therein lies the source of its vital efficacy. Religion is the\nlegitimate form of a living dispensation of the divine strength and\ngrace. True science is the mind\u2019s lofty pursuit, in a Godward direction,\nof perfect knowledge; and this direction forms the characteristic\ndistinction between it and false science. In the state, in like manner,\nits loftiest character lies in the sacred foundation of justice. It is,\ntherefore, a very wrongful and a most pernicious error to look for the\ninmost essence of the state, or the true source of political prosperity,\nin any external form or formula. For this external form is in many cases\nnothing but the shape in which the national mind displays itself--the\ntheater which it erects for its political manifestations. But, in\nanother point of view, also, the form of the state is subordinate to the\nessence and its foundation of right. In the legitimate state, an\nhereditary monarchy, _i.e._, the act of crowning, is, no doubt, a very\nbeautiful, highly significant, and, indeed, an essential sacred right.\nBut, with the exception of certain special cases and positive\ninstitutions in some existing constitutions, the monarch\u2019s right is not\ndependent thereon, but even before the anointing he is truly and fully a\nsovereign. Far different is the case, however, where the political\nauthority is only delegated and vicarious, as with an ambassador or a\nplenipotentiary deputed to negotiate a peace, or other treaty. For in\nsuch cases there is no authority but what is derived solely and entirely\nfrom the delegating source, and on the legal act by which the right or\npower was delegated. Without this, it is absolutely null and void. This\nremark extends to every case and every sphere of legitimate transference\nof a higher authority, even though the latter be of a divine origin. And\nit is simply on this account that in religion, as the proper sphere for\nthe dispensing of divine strength and grace, the form is so highly\nimportant and so thoroughly essential--even as much so as the matter\nitself--or the imparted light of the spirit, and properly is inseparable\nfrom it.\n\nThe position of science is quite different. For this rests on what is\nthoroughly human and inborn in man--the passion of longing; which,\nhowever, if it be maintained in its purity and perseveringly carried\nout, may, without doubt, pass over into a divine pursuit. Even the form\nof communication in science is human throughout, since it employs\nlanguage as the intellectual medium for setting forth the truth. If,\nthen, in this higher tendency, the full center of living and divine\ntruth be attained, according to man\u2019s utmost powers and ability, then,\neven here, a higher and divine power may, undoubtedly, intervene and\nco-operate therewith. But still, for such a case, no strictly-defined\nform, or external sanction and consecration, exists, and from the very\nessence of the thing, it is not to be looked for. That which is divine\nin science must, from its nature, move freely, and be devoid of all such\nforms. As a higher power, it must operate immediately, and must seek to\nestablish its own law for itself, intermediate between religion and the\nstate, or even in each of them alike, though still in a peculiar way of\nits own. Wherever it is genuine and unadulterated, then it will in no\ncase come into collision with the actual laws either of one or of the\nother, even because truth is one and every where the same. But if\nscience, in its external form, and in its social and political\nexistence, should become entirely blended with religion and the\nspiritual class, being confined and restricted thereto, as was the case\nwith the institution of castes among the Hindoos, which we have already\nnoticed, and with the Egyptian priesthood, then we must fain admit that\nfreedom, which the scientific spirit requires for its growth and\ndevelopment in the sphere assigned to it, would be too closely limited\nand checked by narrow and partial considerations. But if, on the other\nhand, it be possible for a false science to arrogate that spiritual and\ndivine right of free action, which, unquestionably, is in a certain\nsense the prerogative of heavenly truth in its invisible kingdom, which\nthe latter can neither misemploy, nor ever impede in its course, then\nsuch a supposition would account for the prevalence of error. It would\nalso, at the same time, serve to illustrate the mode by which such a\nprejudice as the arrogated right of an unrestricted freedom of thought,\nor, rather, of the free and unchecked communication thereof, could ever\nhave struck so deep a root in the human mind. But this is a claim which\nwe can in no way recognize, or allow, as really founded in right and\njustice. Since, wherever, as is the case in this sphere of purely\nintellectual operation, all is immediate and without a definite form of\nexternal sanction, there any thing like right must at most be indefinite\nand individual.\n\nIt forms, perhaps, one of the most important problems or questions of\nour day, whether the entire sphere of science, the whole republic of\nletters--not only the mere elementary instruction of the schools, but\nthe whole domain of education in general, embracing under the latter\ndescription literature and the fine arts--might not, in obedience to the\nrequisitions of the age, be brought into a more organized and\nwell-regulated form. For if this were possible, it might be made to\napproximate more closely to the other great spheres of public life in\nreligion and the state, and confined within its proper limits, according\nto some greater and more comprehensive ideas than those current among\nus, or than those which have come down to us from antiquity, which are\neither defective in themselves, or else are no longer adapted to\nexisting circumstances. Those which the present age has advanced, are,\nfor the most part, crude and ill-digested, and scarcely ever\nconsistently carried out. But, after having reflected for many a long\nyear on this question, so deeply interesting to myself, I have arrived\nat the conviction that, for the present at least, a radical change in\nthis department would be premature and scarcely desirable, as promising\nto afford no very advantageous results. Every thing in this sphere is\ntoo isolated; whatever is good, and especially what is best, is too\nindividual and too formless to allow of its being as yet, without great\ndifficulty, reduced in all parts and in every point to a firm rule and\ndefinite shape. In all probability, by attempting unseasonably to\nintroduce organic order and law, we should cramp rather than assist and\ndevelop the good. In the present chaotic state of science, it is only\nthe vicious and profane that possesses a systematic coherence. All\ndetrimental and dangerous, as well as futile and indifferent ideas,\nmixed with a few good and useful ones, are atomistically diffused and\nspread in every possible shape and quarter. And if against this\nboundless dissemination of evil thoughts--this elementary decomposition\nand chemical analysis of the human mind, and the whole body of human\nthoughts, a negative barrier be set up as a preventive measure of\ndefense, and as a temporary substitute for a better and higher state of\nthings, murmurs and reproaches immediately rise from all sides. But,\ntaken on the whole, and in so far as principle is involved, these\nremonstrances are neither just nor well founded. For in almost every\nstate where, owing to peculiar circumstances, such precautionary\nmeasures have not been taken, the most dangerous disorders and jarring\ndiscords have affected the whole of public life, as the inevitable\nconsequences of its absence.\n\nBut let us turn our eyes from the insignificant controversies, with its\nhost of ephemeral publications, the interest of which seems little\nlikely to outlive even that of a daily journal, and let us look to the\ngreater and more historical phenomena amid them, which, in all\nprobability, will mark an epoch in the development of mind. From these\nit is distinctly apparent that science is a real and actual power. In\nproof of this fact, we need only appeal to the great talents and\nabilities which, not only in recent years, but also throughout the last\ncentury, have exercised in the domain of science what, without\nexaggeration, we may well term a world-embracing influence. Only we must\nadmit that in this period they have taken more or less a destructive\ntendency, and one that threatened in this scientific burrowing to\nundermine the foundations of everlasting truth. But if we will take a\nstill wider survey, so as to embrace all the several periods of the\nworld\u2019s history, and the course of the human mind therein, then,\nundoubtedly, we may discern the higher might of divine truth,\nmanifesting itself as an influence for good, as a pure and genuine\nspiritual theocracy of science, to whose domain above all others the\nidea of an immediate and higher supremacy of mind and divine power is\npeculiarly applicable.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE XV.\n\nOF THE TRUE IDEA OF A THEOCRACY; OF THE MIGHT OF SCIENCE, AND OF THE\nFINAL RESTORATION AND PERFECTION OF THE HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS.\n\n\nThe idea which the adverse party, or opposition, in the political\ndomain, and in the scientific theory of politics, usually form of a\ntheocracy, is for the most part incorrect. By the adverse party I mean\nall those who either openly assail, or privately call in question, the\nreligious foundation, the higher sanction, and the divine authority of\nthe state; in short, those in general who are hostile to the religious\nsentiment. The latter apply the idea of theocracy and employ the term to\nsignify the rule of the spiritual power, such as the Egyptian priesthood\nmay, perhaps, or, at least, such as they suppose them to have\npossessed--or a polity where the supreme temporal authority works in\nunison with the sacerdotal class.\n\nAnd even by the defenders of the good cause--by men of higher and better\nprinciples, the idea is frequently taken in too inaccurate and\nindefinite, not to say incorrect, a sense. They seem to understand by it\nnothing more than the divine authority of the state and of the Church,\nand their mutual support and dependence, and their co-operation. But\nnothing can be more erroneous than such a notion. For the kingly\ndignity, no less than the priestly, as respects the divine authority,\nwhich is inherent in both, is not immediate, but vicarious and\nrepresentative.\n\nWhen, however, we turn to its original source--to the historical basis,\n_i.e._, to Christian revelation, and derive therefrom the true idea of a\ntheocracy, we shall find it to be very different from the assumption\nwhich each of these parties tacitly advances as self-evident. The idea\nof a theocracy can only be properly determined from the instance of the\nJews. The history of that nation will not only enable us fully to\ndevelop it as an actual form of polity, having an historical origin and\nexistence, but also in the clearest and readiest way to illustrate it.\nNow the passage from revolution, civil war, and anarchy, to absolute\ndespotism, in its genetic progress, can be most clearly and most\nprofitably traced in Roman history. The true nature, moreover, of the\ndynamical polity can be learned from the historically originated and\nhistorically preserved exemplification of it in England, far better than\nfrom any theory, or from any scheme of a constitution propounded for the\noccasion of some state experiment, for all such experiments require the\nlasting test of a few generations, or at least of half a century before\nany decided opinion can be passed on their success and historical\npermanency. And just in the same way the peculiar character and essence\nof a theocracy can be deduced from no source so clearly or so fully as\nfrom the Jewish history. Or, rather, the true idea of it can be acquired\nfrom no other channel, since among this people only has a theocracy ever\nexisted as a real form of national polity. And here it continued in\nforce for nearly four hundred years.\n\nHowever poor may be the part which the people of Israel played in the\ngreat drama of the world\u2019s history, in comparison with that of the great\nconquering nations, the Persians, Greeks, and Romans, still the\nprophetic people (whose importance must be sought only in this\ndesignation, or, in other words, their continual relation to the\nfuture), possesses, even in their peculiar code of laws and form of\ngovernment, a remarkable interest for the historian. For in the true\nhistorical estimate of things mere extent of power can not pass for the\nexclusive standard of greatness and importance. And this has been\nalready the judgment of many writers of history, who, as far as regards\nthis particular subject, and the general question of religion, must\nundoubtedly be pronounced free from either prepossession or prejudice.\nThe way, too, in which this ancient people have survived the destruction\nof their national government, and for nearly two thousand years since\nhave uniformly remained separate from all other nations, has been more\nthan once confessed to be a very striking phenomenon, unparalleled in\nthe history of the world.\n\nMoses, from whom that theocracy first emanated, or, rather, with whom it\ncommenced, was not himself the High Priest. His brother Aaron enjoyed\nthat dignity. He neither wished nor had a title to hold it. He had no\nhereditary claim to it, neither was he elected to it by the people. And\nyet he stood in no man\u2019s place, nor did he forcibly dispossess any one\nof his right. And so even, if for a while we dismiss the theological\nview entirely from our regard, and, forgetting it for a moment, judge\nof the matter by the strictest juristic notions, we can not call him a\nusurper, even in that sense of the term which comprises the demagogue\u2019s\ncharacter. At an earlier period of his life, he appeared likely to\nbecome a mere liberator in the usual sense of the word. In this\ncharacter, however, he does not appear unjust, even though he allowed\nhimself to be hurried into an act of violence against a petty tyrant\namong the oppressors of his countrymen. And at a later period, when he\nhad received his call, we can not in his conduct toward the Egyptians\ndiscover any trace of injustice, even judging him by the strictest legal\nnotions. Now, the authority which Moses exercised over his own people,\nwhile he led them through the wilderness, rested on the immediate\nexercise of the divine powers which were lent to him from above, and\nwhich were immediately acknowledged as such, and nowhere met with any\nconsiderable resistance. And, accordingly, properly speaking, no\nquestion was ever raised against a right which was based entirely on\nthose imparted powers, although they were totally devoid of any formal\nor distinct act of legal sanction. The office he held was prophetical.\nBut by this term I do not mean merely according to its later and more\nobvious meaning, the function of warning or promising, of teaching or\npredicting, but all this, and something more--a higher and divine power,\nwhich vividly and persuadingly displayed itself in life and deeds.\nLooking at it in a general light, and as applied to a case which, at\nleast, we can think of as not impossible, of the Almighty having sent,\nor purposing to send, a second Moses to some other people, then the\ncircumstance we lately mentioned, that this Moses forcibly dispossessed\nno one of his rights, and had made no unrighteous revolution, must be\ntaken into consideration, even if it might not simply by itself serve as\nthe characteristic or distinctive test of the genuineness of the\nvocation in question.\n\nFor a power emanating from God, and truly divine, would never violate or\nforcibly subvert any established right, whether essentially sacred or\nhallowed only by prescription. It will respect the least privilege of\nequals and inferiors no less than the greatest prerogative of superiors.\nI have introduced these remarks in order to determine more precisely the\nright point of view for an historical comparison of Moses with every\nother character that sets himself before the world in the same light,\nwhether the parallel be made with Mohammed, or that still earlier Indian\nMohammed who is usually called Buddha, although this is only an honorary\nepithet, and not the name of any historical person in particular. And\nthe same standard will hold good for our judging of any other reformer\nof the world who makes religion the instrument of his ambition, to\nwhatever age he may belong, or any modern Mohammed, in whatever part of\nthe world he may arise.\n\nAs regards the religion itself, or the matter of the pretended\nrevelation, there is another characteristic mark by which we may\ndistinguish a genuine from a spurious mission from God. Although it is\nboth external and negative, still, as being historical, it deserves to\nbe here adduced. It is this: a genuine revelation is, in the doctrine\nwhich it promulgates, at the same time both old and new. It is new in\nregard to its novel application to life and in its fulfillments, and\nalso to its animating force and spiritual awakening; but old in so far\nas invariably referring to an earlier revelation and to a still older\nsource of light, it remounts up to the pure fountain of eternal truth.\nAnd such is, throughout, the case even with the Mosaic revelation. It\ncontinually leads the inquirer back to some higher and remoter\nsource--some deeper spring of everlasting light. And on the same\nprinciple it also has been acknowledged as such by the Christian or\ndivine philosophy of the Spirit, and Moses has been recognized and\nhonored from all time as its founder. In the domain of religion, to be\nabsolutely new is equivalent with being false or groundless, namely,\ntotally detached from the old and everlasting foundations, without\nconnection therewith, and, consequently, isolated and arbitrary.\n\nIn reference to, and as contrasted with, the above characteristics of\ngenuine revelation, there is for the most part in systems of imposture\nas little really new as actually old. This is especially the case with\nthe doctrine and Koran of Mohammed, however much it may have been lauded\nfor its poetry, or on account of the rhetorical art and vigor which it\ndisplays. Its subject-matter and doctrines are not really new, since\nthey are but recasts of Jewish and Christian ideas, which it has freely\nborrowed, mixing them together and adapting them to an obvious end and\ndesign; and yet not old, since it does not go back far enough or deep\nenough, and never remounts to the first beginning of nature and of man,\nfar less to the threefold fountain of divine life.\n\nNow, with respect to Moses: an historical judge of the ordinary kind,\nwho could not enter into the religious view of his character and office,\nmight say, \u201cThis is quite a strange world to us, a very remote period;\nmuch is there in this history difficult to explain and extremely\nobscure. This much, however, seems to follow from the whole history: the\nman possessed extraordinary mental powers for his times, and an equally\nuncommon strength of character; no wonder, then, if he bore down all\nobstacles, and by the force of genius carried every thing before him.\u201d\nSuch an estimate, however, reduces every thing to the force of genius in\nan heroic character, instead of a higher and immediate operation of\ndivine power and the prophetic office founded thereon. Superficially\njudging this false view, eluding, or, rather, perverting, the divine\nillumination, admits of an application, though delusive and specious\nenough, to Moses, on account of those ample powers of genius which, no\ndoubt, he possessed, or even on account of the sublimity of his style,\nwhich the very heathens could appreciate and admire. Still, it is in no\nway applicable to that line of men, for the most part of the very\nsimplest character, who succeeded him, and during the period of the\ntheocracy down to the time of the kings, held what was immediately a\ndivine or prophetic rule. It was not by any hereditary title or formal\nchoice that they ruled; neither were they priests any more than Moses.\nCalled immediately by God to the dignity of judge, they suddenly stood\nbefore the people, to be instantly and without opposition acknowledged,\nand thereupon their mission and authority were at once established,\nwithout any external sanction or solemnities, or any form of legal\nrecognition.\n\nThe general condition of the Jewish people under the Judges was that of\na noble and not uncivilized nomadic race. We must not confound this\ndescription, however, with the so-called natural state of a wild and\nbarbarous people, but rather think of it as resembling that of the\nArabians generally before the time of Mohammed, or of a few tribes still\nsubsisting in the most retired parts of Arabia, where, under their most\ndistinguished leaders, as shepherd princes they lead a roving life of\nhereditary freedom. Similar, or at least not very different, was the\nmode of life and state of society that prevailed among the Hebrews in\nthe interregnums which occur in this long period of the Judges. Toward\nthe close of this period, judges first arise who are invested with the\npriestly as well as the judicial dignity. These form, accordingly, the\ntransition to the regal government and the epoch of the kings. For when\nthe people at last demanded a king to rule over them, like the\nneighboring Gentiles, every sanction that could exalt, and every\nsacerdotal inauguration that could be thought of, was conferred upon the\nappointed tribe and the kingly house. But at the same time the priestly\ndignity was guarded strictly and jealously from encroachment, and the\ntemporal power was rigorously kept free from all union and confusion\nwith the sacerdotal authority. But that wild and tumultuous demand of\nthe people, or, I should say, of _public opinion_, which at that time\nwas in favor of a monarch with the same pomp and splendor as the Gentile\nsovereigns displayed, as in more modern times it directs itself to the\nno less heathenish attraction of liberty, was imputed to them and\ndepicted as a grievous fall and religious infidelity. For in the\nprevious times of the direct theocracy, Jehovah Himself had been their\ntrue but invisible king, while, as is expressly asserted, the judges and\nleaders were only His embassadors or plenipotentiaries. Under the first\nkings we may discern, in the historical description of the sacred books,\nmany traces of that higher power, and its immediate exercise and\neffects. Subsequently, however, it totally disappears; and after the\ndivision of the two kingdoms, the contrast in the personal powers and\ncharacter of the later sovereigns, and the consequent fortunes of the\npeople, so accordant with the political history of other Asiatic\ncountries, becomes most decided.\n\nThe preceding remarks will, I hope, be sufficient to throw out, in\nperfect distinctness, the true idea of a theocracy, such as it has been\nhistorically developed. For inasmuch as in the present age, and amid the\nparty disputes which mark it, this idea has been employed in so many\nvarious acceptations, and mostly in a false or partial sense, I thought\nit expedient, in the present place, not to omit to sift the question to\nthe utmost. Now, in a very remarkable manner, a single element, from the\nearlier and original theocracy of the olden time, still survived among\nthe Jews in the period of the monarchy. It formed no longer indeed the\nsupreme power of the state, for this was held by the kings, but\nconstituted formally and avowedly an antagonism to them, as a\nwell-defined opposition, which, so long as it confined itself within its\ndue limits, was altogether righteous and justifiable, and which we may\njustly designate as legitimate and divine. In this light we must view\nthe position of the later prophets, who, without, however, being\ninvested with any special political dignity or power, dared to raise,\nbefore a vicious government--or, since in those simple days of old every\nthing was more or less personal--before a wicked king who had forgotten\nhis high vocation, the voice of warning or denunciation. This peculiar\nform of a political opposition, and, as such, recognized to be\nlegitimate and allowable, this remnant of the once exclusive theocracy\nand a complete supremacy of the prophets, which still survived in the\ntime of the kings, forms a phenomenon as highly remarkable as it is\nsingular in its kind. And those who have no admiration but for\nopposition, might, perhaps, if they could disentangle themselves from\nthe forms of their own days, or the notions imbibed at school, find here\nan object altogether worthy of their praise. They might probably find\nthe duties of an uncompromising and yet justifiable and lawful\nopposition to the state discharged by an Elijah with equal, if not\ngreater intelligence, strength of mind, and energy of character, as well\nas sense of justice, as by the Ephori in Sparta, or a Demosthenes in\nAthens during the Macedonian ascendency, or by the most virtuous of the\ncensors, and the most upright of the tribunes of the people in old Rome;\nor even by the parliament of England. It was only in the last period of\nthe total decline of the Israelitish nation, and shortly before and\nduring the first days of the Roman dominion, that the regal dignity and\nthe office of High Priest were united in one family (for even here they\nwere not invariably associated in the same person), in such a manner as\nto correspond with the notion that is at present usually understood by\nthe term theocracy.\n\nFar otherwise, however, was it, in this respect, with the Christian\nworld. The first apostolical preachers of the new doctrine of grace and\nfounders of an era which was truly, and in a divine sense, new,\nundoubtedly did not possess less of that immediate miraculous power than\neven a Moses or an Elijah. But the only use they made of it was to\npromote the diffusion and to set forth the glory of religion. Once only\ndid the first of the Apostles, for the sake of preserving the\nhierarchical authority, and the purity of the community which professed\nto give up itself and all that it had to God, make a retributive use of\nthe divine authority committed to him. He who for the love of money was\nfalse to the cause of God and of truth, was struck dead by the avenging\nglance of him who in will was united with God as the everlasting Judge.\nNever did the Apostles employ their power against the state, or avail\nthemselves of it in opposition to its decrees. And yet the despotic\nmeasures of the Roman Government toward the degraded nation it had\nbrought, by force of arms, under its oppressive yoke, might seem, at\nleast, to justify such an interference with its unlawful usurpation. Not\neven in self-defense, or to escape from afflictions or bonds, did they\nonce employ the theocratic powers committed to them.\n\nThe idea of a theocracy which is entertained in the present day is so\nloose and shifting, and its application generally so erroneous, that it\nis necessary to show, at length, how little the common views of it are\nfounded on truth. There exists no foundation for them in the view or\ntheory of a Christian state in its first and simple origin. And as\nlittle is it the case with the succeeding epochs of Christianity. Such\nextraordinary powers, as were manifested from time to time and intrusted\nto particular individuals, have ever been employed for the diffusion of\nthe faith, its internal development, or to glorify it before\nunbelievers, or for a new confirmation of old truths, but never for the\npurpose of founding a temporal power or political influence.\n\nThe true theocracy, however, such as it has actually manifested itself,\ndoes not depend on any particular theory, but, as an immediate power and\nauthority from God, is regulated by the divine will alone. It would,\ntherefore, be precipitate, if judging of it, _\u00e0 priori_, by any\narbitrary principle, we should unconditionally pronounce its recurrence\nto be impossible. Generally, the wonder of a theocracy must be judged of\nhistorically in the light in which its own history exhibits it. A mere\ntheory can lead us to no stable determination regarding it. The\nfollowing seems its relation to the natural history of man, or, even, we\nmay say, to the usual course of external nature. Viewed generally, and\nin its principle, whatever is, comes from God, as its first cause. The\npermission of evil, however, whether in the realm of nature or of\nhumanity, when, after their first divine impulse, they are left for a\ntime to pursue their own course of internal development, is clearly\nsomething of another and peculiar kind. Peculiar, too, are the higher\nauthorities which exist in the latter, and which are ultimately founded\non a divine law and right, and somewhat different is the case with their\nimmediate divine operation and miraculous agency. As, therefore, the\ncourse of the world, on the whole, is natural, and whatever transcends\nit as a singular or rare exception, does but interrupt the regularity of\nthe ordinary laws of nature; so, too, the course of universal history,\nin ordinary times, is agreeable to man\u2019s nature, as regulated and\nmodified simply by historical circumstances. At most a few theocratical\njunctures, a few eminent moments of a more divine working and\ndevelopment of power, may be noticed at distant intervals. And these\ngrand and pregnant epochs, in which all the existing relations of the\nworld assume a new and unexpected form, are generally, in the first\nmoment of its triumphant result, or scarcely-hoped-for emancipation,\nrightly and thankfully regarded and acknowledged as interventions of a\nhigher and a divine agency; though, alas, the enthusiasm of man\u2019s\ngratitude to God, even when it does take a passing hold on man\u2019s heart,\nis wont to evaporate, even more rapidly than any other of his ardent\nfeelings.\n\nOur own age has afforded a very remarkable instance of this kind. To\nthis it is sufficient to allude, without entering into any further\ndisquisition concerning it. But it is not only in such wonderful changes\nfor good or happy deliverances from the power of evil that these\nremarkable divine moments or theocratic junctures announce themselves in\nthe history of the world. We may even recognize them in every\ncommencement of a truly new era in history, which, in the favorable\ncrisis, is suddenly and triumphantly effected by a some higher impulse\nand divinely-imparted power. Many instances of the kind might easily be\nadduced if this were the proper place for it, or time allowed. The first\ntriumph of the Cross and Christianity that was public and extended to\nthe whole world, under Constantine the Great, belongs to this class. As\na second instance, I would mention that beginning of the Christian\nEmpire in the West under Charlemagne, which was afterward to receive so\nhappy a development. Superficial inquirers, who judge by the mental\nexternal coloring, are in danger of confounding these creative\nbeginnings--these turning-points of a higher intervention--with the\nordinary event of a revolution, or the rapid and decisive step of\nenergetic usurpation. But to the eye of patient observation and deep\npenetration they are distinguished from the latter by their profound\nhistorical causes and their attendant circumstances, and by a peculiar\nstamp of purity and grandeur. In short, in their essence they are\nentirely different.\n\nThese observations must have made it evident in what sense I spoke of a\ntheocracy of science. The power of truth in that good science which is\ndirected toward God, is in its influence of a lofty and even divine\nnature. But it is this simply, in its immediate energy of operation,\nwithout depending on any external sanction, or even form thereof. In the\nsame way error also, in its evil effects, is most unquestionably, and in\nthe fullest sense of the term, a power; and that not merely in a\nsensuous and materialistic, or relatively to the mind in a purely\nnegative sense, but a demoniacal power of evil with a most embarrassing\nand perverting influence, such as it has been often and in our own times\nmost undeniably exercised. The great degree in which science actually\nmanifests itself as a power is not apparent so long as we limit our\nconsideration to the history of the human intellect in our own circle of\nobservation and the ordinary sphere of European civilization.\n\nAmong the Greeks, for example, rhetoric became the mere slave of an\nextremely corrupt government, and followed it in all its disorders.\nPoetry, indeed, was the handmaid of the heathen worship and its\nreligious legends; but still, as being an art and the sport of fantasy,\nit moved with a considerable degree of freedom. Accordingly, in the best\nand purest and greatest of the poets of antiquity, a profound and\nsignificant symbolism of life lies under, and occasionally appears on,\nthe surface of their works, which, as considered from a right point of\nview and in a liberal spirit, is neither totally repugnant nor directly\nopposed to a higher, or even the highest, _i.e._, Christian truth. But\nstill such notes of a divinely-inspired feeling, which in the\ninspiration attains to a clearer perception of the divine nature, is\nvery far from amounting to the power of an idea, and its actually and\ndetermining influence on life. The philosophy and science of the Greeks,\nfrom its beginning to its close, stood in decided opposition both to the\npopular religion and to the state. Accordingly, they either exercised no\ninfluence at all on life, or, at least, no uncontested one. At any rate,\ntheir effects were very trivial. All that can be justly said of the\nsubject of Grecian science or the ideas of the Greeks applies, with a\nslight modification and in a less general sense, to those of the Romans.\n\nThe remarks we made above on ancient art and poetry hold good, though in\na somewhat different application, of the romantic portion of the middle\nages, its legends, namely, and poetic fictions. However important the\nnobler aim which fancy here pursued to influence morals and life, still\nthe idea of the power of science can scarcely come in here. As for\nscience itself, the medieval mind was divided in its pursuit of it. On\none hand there prevailed a strong desire after what was forbidden--or at\nleast was supposed to be forbidden--the old heathen philosophy; on the\nother, as soon as it appeared impossible to get rid of it altogether, an\nanxious endeavor to come to an equitable compromise with it, or at least\nto make a rationally Christian application of it, and especially of\nAristotle, who, in the judgment of those days, ruled as supreme monarch\nover all the sciences. Under these circumstances, and confined by these\nchains of authority, it was impossible for Christian science to put\nforth its full power and might, or to exercise any material influence on\nthe age or on life. On the contrary, agreeably with the very principle\nof the Christian life, the latter shows itself only in writers like St.\nBernard, who did not belong to the schoolmen. For in the genuine\nscholastic philosophy, as having its origin in a perfectly heathen\ndialectic, neither the method nor the forms of thought could be purely\nChristian.\n\nHow great the power of science has shown itself within the last century,\nand especially in our own age, is a frequent topic of remark. And at the\nsame time the fact has not been overlooked, that this power has\ngradually assumed a more pernicious direction, or at least has become\ninvolved in a great and violent struggle, which as yet is undecided,\nbetween a destructive tendency of mind and the power of goodness and\ntruth exerting itself in an effort of restoration. And it is, perhaps,\nonly to the latter, in its conflict with the evil principle of unbelief\nand the denial of all that is divine, that the idea of a theocracy of\nscience and such a higher power of truth is really applicable. For this\nalone seems likely to secure to it the victory in this contest, which,\nso far as numbers are concerned, is most unequal.\n\nIf, now, we turn our looks to a more distant point, and take into\nconsideration the older Asiatic nations, though chiefly and in generally\nwith respect to the religious aspect of their science and scientific\nmonuments, here, more than elsewhere, we shall meet with much that\ncorresponds with this idea, and has on its front a strong theocratical\nimpress and signature. It will, therefore, pre-eminently serve to\nelucidate this idea. The whole edifice of scientific thought among the\nHindoos, though in its form of sacred laws, systems, and authentic\ncommentaries thereon--of history, legends and poetry, it is not less\nrich and diversified than the literature and philosophy of the Greeks,\nforms, nevertheless, a whole where every part is of one piece and one\nmold. In all its manifold forms, it rests and is supported on the same\nfoundation, which is regarded and venerated as divine. And therein lies\nthe secret of its incalculable power, to which it owes its unshaken\nstability through so many tens of centuries, as well as its great\ninfluence on the whole of Indian life, which has derived from it its\nunchanging form and duration, so that we might almost say, Here has\nscience, or at least this elevated system of thought, become the\nanimating principle of life and a second nature.\n\nTo the many and great errors which are mixed up with the Indian system\nof faith and thought, I am not disposed to ascribe this indestructible\nprinciple of vitality and permanent influence on life. At least, if\nsomething must be ascribed to this source, a vast deal more must be\nassigned to the influence of the truth that is also contained in it, and\nwhich, though variously adulterated and falsified, still, in its leading\nfeatures, has been distinctly preserved from the sacred traditions of\nprimeval times and the first progenitors of the nation. And yet even\nhere, in this edifice, otherwise so uniform, many a book and many a\nsystem has been introduced from the opposition, even though the latter\nexerted its antagonistic principle far more weakly and far less\npertinaciously here than among the Greeks, or on any other domain of the\nEuropean mind. For it was chiefly in the southeastern peninsula that the\nfounder of that purely intellectual and ideal, but yet demoniacal and\ntherefore truly anti-Christian sect of philosophy and religion, who\nlived about as many centuries before the Christian epoch as Mohammed\nafter it, and whose followers, numbering nearly a third of the whole\npopulation of the world, spread over the southeast of Asia, and Tartary,\nand China, found adherents in India. Still the old and proper India did\nnot remain totally free from the pernicious tenets of Buddhism, which,\nof all religious or philosophical sects and errors, is the most fatal\nand destructive that ever has been or ever will be.\n\nLet us now glance at the sacred writings of the Jews, though not,\nindeed, in so far as they are to be regarded as the divine law of faith\nfor that nation, and for all others who should come in the future and\nlatter times of Christianity (a law, we must observe, which is expressed\nin a language so thoroughly individual, and in so national a spirit,\nthat it often becomes thereby highly obscure and difficult to\nunderstand), nor, indeed, generally in a theological light. For\notherwise the example we have chosen for the illustration of the\ntheocracy of science would be identical with the matter it was intended\nto illustrate. We must here consider it simply as the written record of\nthe origin and descent of the nation, both in its legal and historical\nexistence, combining therewith its distant promises and expectations of\nthe future--in short, as the history, poetry, literature, political\ninstitutions and hopes of this singular people. Viewing it, then, in\nthis light, merely in its human, national, and historical aspect, its\nfirm and lasting impression on the Jewish mind, and its indestructible\neffects, which survive all the changes of time, form a most remarkable\nphenomenon. For by means of it this ancient people, so miraculously\nscattered among all the nations of the world, is to this\nday--three-and-thirty centuries from the original composition of its\nfirst sacred books--still one, amid all its dispersion, and, we might\nalmost add, even in spite of its half unbelief in itself.\n\nIn modern history, which commences with the second epoch of revelation,\nthe four holy Gospels, with various didactic epistles, and the great\nprophetic book at the close of all, forms the deep focus of\nillumination, to which, however, I do not now immediately refer, lest,\nas I observed in a former case, the illustration and the illustrated\nmatter should prove identical. Out of this first germ of light, as it\nwas carried forward in a living transmission through the first five or\nsix centuries, was gradually raised an edifice of Christian science and\nthought. A new literature was formed in every branch of doctrine or\nhistory, of eloquence or controversy, which, composed in the two\nhighly-cultivated languages of classical antiquity, has exercised the\ngreatest possible influence not only on the succeeding generation, but\non all subsequent times. Occasionally, no doubt, and especially in the\nearlier centuries, a deviation from, or, rather, opposition to, the\nprevailing system, whether as private opinion or positive error,\nintruded itself into the midst. Still, notwithstanding these little\ndiscords, scarce perceptible in the entire mass, the whole forms, as a\nsystem of thought, an intellectual power whose effects have been so\ngreat that its authors, or, rather, its spokesmen, have with perfect\njustice been styled the Fathers or the earthly creators and founders of\nthe Church, _i.e._, of this new era and of the truth which is\ntransmitted in it, without change, indeed, but with a stream which\nwidens as it flows.\n\nI have chosen all these examples from well-known matters, in order to\ndirect your attention to the fact that the idea we have advanced of a\ntheocracy of science, or a divine power of truth therein, does not\ndepend for its final triumph and the total extinction of error on any\nindividual force of genius, however great, but on a common and joint\noperation of a system of forces--on a vast and comprehensive edifice of\nthought, various indeed in its composition and mental character and form\nof expression, but still perfectly harmonizing as a whole. One thing,\nhowever, is indispensable--a divine tendency must predominate in it. The\nfoundation on which it rests and is supported must be divine. The one\nray of light, even though in itself it be ever so pure and bright, and\ntruly deserve to be termed divine--one stroke of the sword, though ever\nso sharply and keenly struck--the one confining limit, though set up and\nmaintained by ever so comprehensive an intelligence (which term I use to\nconvey something more than mere _prudence_)--all these will avail\nnothing against this new flood of error and infidelity, and of Godless\nideas--thoughts, that is, which are entirely without God, and making no\nreference to Him, proceed from impious and demoniacal delusion. Against\nthe inroad of atheism, which is threatening life on all sides, the\ndivine might or theocracy of true science can alone furnish a defense.\nIt can only raise a new ark to save the age from perishing in the flood\nof spiritual wickedness. But with this view the most essential point is\nthe building of a consistent and compact whole, while those who wish to\nco-operate in the good work must, like the builder of the ancient ark,\nhave their regards turned chiefly to the future, looking far beyond the\npresent, and its minute and frequently most trifling controversies.\n\nThis true theocracy of science, resting on a divine tendency in man,\nwhich, though it is inborn, is seldom found pure, and still more rarely\nretains its purity to the end, must look to the state to secure its\nexternal stability and unimpeded action. To this end it is necessary,\nhowever, that the state should understand and recognize its own divine\nfoundation, and look to that heavenly grace and strength which religion\nalone vouchsafes to it as the true source of its vitality and\npermanence. Individuals can at most do nothing more than co-operate in\nbringing about this desirable consummation. They must not attempt to go\nbeyond the true relation of this co-operative character. The moving\npower must come from above; it must proceed from the fountain of all\ngoodness and all truth.\n\nPhilosophically viewed, indeed, science and its divine tendency rests on\nthe good and genuine aspirations of the human consciousness. And it is\nonly by the restoration of man\u2019s mind to the perfection in which it\noriginally came from the Creator\u2019s hands that science can attain to its\nperfect state. Now that the consciousness in its present state is\nimperfect--or, rather, that as compared with its condition when, in the\nfirst fresh energy of life and in full and unimpeded action, it came\nimmediately from the Creator, it is no longer uncorrupt, unconfused, or\nunimpaired, as it was almost our opening remark, so it has been kept in\nview throughout the present series of Lectures. The most natural\nconclusion of our labors, therefore, is to consider the possibility of\nrestoring it to its original divine perfection, as being the only method\nwhich can secure to science a stable foundation and enable its Godward\ntendency to attain its proper end.\n\nIn a cold, dead, and abstract understanding--in a passionately blind and\nabsolute will--in a reason which loses itself in dialectical disputes or\namuses itself with dynamical theories, and, consequently, never reaches\nits true object--in a fancy which is ever longing after and pursuing its\nown imaginations, living on and lost in a dreamy and imaginary world of\nits own--in these severally faulty forms of the human consciousness, as\ncorrupted by the influence of sin, and the consequences of the Fall\n(even though the objects of this vitiated thought and will may, in\nthemselves, appear perfectly innocent, indifferent, unselfish, and even\nintellectual), lies the original fountain of all perverted and deadly\nthinking. The soul, in the center of this fourfold source of false\ncogitation and false volition, is torn and distracted many ways,\nimpeded, and, as it were, crippled and deadened. But still it remains\neternal and immortal. Accordingly, the soul must be the point from which\nthe restoration and reawakening of life must proceed. But this\nrestoration of the human consciousness to perfection is to be called\ndivine, on this account, because it can only be reached by the soul\nattaching itself exclusively to what we formerly called the second new\nand divine starting-point of human existence. For the more that the\nsoul, created for immortality and loving, and in love embracing that\nwhich is in itself immortal, adopts this great and new word for man,\nthis second beginning in God, and is impregnated with it, in the same\ndegree do reason and fancy cease to be at issue with each other and to\nbe independent, isolated, and clashing faculties; and, finally, they\nbecome altogether merged in the one thinking and loving soul. Then, too,\ndoes the soul cease to be dead, cold, and abstract, and becomes,\ninstead, a living and wakeful spirit, _i.e._, one which in its new life\nworks freely and energetically. And the will, too, is no longer blind,\nno longer passionately absolute; but, restored to sight, becomes one\nwith the internal sense, as the third member of the human consciousness.\nAnd by this union the will is, as it were, fully armed and equipped. For\nthe external sense, which hitherto has been thoroughly passive, as soon\nas the will is restored to sight, assumes by its means an active and\nliving operation; and the inner moral sense, which before was merely\nsubjective, acquires a power of external discernment.\n\nThis is the end of perfection. And it is only on this road of a divine\nrestoration of the human consciousness, according to its established law\nof progress, that the divine tendency of science can attain to\nperfection. With the attainment of this end an entirely new era will\ncommence. But the intricacy of the problem which our own age has to\nsolve arises simply from this circumstance, that a truly new era and a\nfalse one are engaged in mortal conflict. The former can only spring up\nand flourish when the latter decays and is got rid of. To this end the\npresent false spirit of the age, which is but a perversion of the true\ncosmopolitan spirit, must die the death. And this must be brought to\npass by the sword of the Word or of eternal truth, which pierces even to\nthe joints and marrow, and divides asunder soul and spirit. For the\nimmortal, God-created, and God-devoted soul requires to be separated and\ndetached from the so-called spirit of the age, which is mixed up and\ncompounded of so many dim, false, imperfect, and evil spirits. And the\nspirit of the age must itself be entirely converted and be brought to a\nknowledge and open confession of its error, and when once whatever in it\nis totally dead has been adjudged to eternal death, it will itself be\nrenovated and purified in the fiery floods of the truly new times.\n\nIn this divine restoration, however, of the human consciousness, or\ntheocracy, man\u2019s part must be wholly passive. It is enough if he does\nnot hinder or retard it; for in a certain sense he can at least\nco-operate in bringing it to pass. Even that final consummation toward\nwhich that true new era, which as yet is entirely hidden and, as it\nwere, choked by the false, longs and yearns--that peace of God, of which\nthe highest and best religious peace is but a foreboding symbol, and, as\nit were, the first weak grade, or step, can not be brought about by\nhuman art and power. It is not by any diplomatic courtesy, which in this\ncase would be highly culpable--not by any amalgamation, which in the\npresent sphere is contradictory to every notion of right, that that\npeace can be brought about, in which, according to no vain or unmeaning\npromise, there is to be one fold and one Shepherd. Its accomplishment\nmust be reserved entirely to Him who, from all eternity has been, and\nstill is, the good Shepherd of all His creatures.\n\nHere, then, at this point, having, by means of the idea of a restoration\nof the human consciousness to its original divine perfection, arrived at\na close, I will pause a few moments to take once more a rapid survey of,\nand to throw a clearer light on, my past labors. And herein I shall\npurposely refer to the division of philosophy, and the designations of\nits several parts usually given in the schools. The first five Lectures\ntreated of the human soul in the wide extent of its original relation,\nnot only to life but also to nature and to God, and formed consequently\nof psychology, though in a wider sense than the science which is usually\noccupied with this subject. The three next, as discussing the divine\norder of things, contained a species of natural theology, though treated\nof in a perfectly living method and relation, and entering historically\ninto individual, no less than universal, life. Of the last seven\nLectures the first three were devoted to the investigation of truth. We\nhere examined its fundamental principle of the unity of the highest\nscience and divine faith, the discrimination of truth in the struggle\nbetween faith and skepticism, and the final conclusion in the unity of\nthis higher science and faith with the true life and its influence\ntherein. This higher logic, in so far as it considers the true essence\nof things, might even be designated an ontology. And, indeed, since it\nderives every thing from a divine principle, it might not inaptly be\ncalled an applied or mixed theology, in the same sense as this\ndesignation is employed in the mathematical sciences, viz., as the first\npart of such an applied theology. In this sense the second part thereof\nwould be formed by the metaphysics of life, as the science of that which\nis above nature, whose province it is to indicate all higher and\nsupernatural principles in the whole sphere of existence and the actual\nworld, so far as it is given to man to know them. Employing the old\nphraseology and division of the schools, we might term this a cosmology,\nin a moral and intellectual sense, and with a regard to what human\nphilosophy can attain to. The symbolical energy of the divine\ncommunication in religion, the divine foundation of the state, the\nGodward tendency of science, and the restoration of the consciousness by\nGod, form, as it were, the four poles or summits of all these\nprinciples, which transcend and overpass the merely natural.\n\nConcerning the accomplishment of perfection in man\u2019s divinely-restored\nconsciousness, and also in the whole of existence, or in nature itself,\na few words yet remain to be added. And thus this last section,\nconsidered as a cosmology, is based on a divine principle, so far as\nthis is attainable by man.\n\nNow, the first consequence of the perfection of the human consciousness,\nas accomplished by God, will be the restoration of the divine image and\nlikeness in man. The soul, now purified and made complete again, becomes\nonce more spiritually fruitful, and in this internal productiveness,\nwhich even the pure spirits do not possess, is rendered similar, though\nat an infinite distance and in a very secondary sense, to the Creator in\nHis productive energy. The livingly operative spirit in the creature is\nlike to that in the being who is increate and from all eternity, while\nthe livingly active sense, as the third member or element in the\nperfected consciousness, is similar and correspondent to the divine\noperating word. And lastly, in this livingly quickened and completely\nrestored consciousness, man reassumes his original true and distinct\nrelation to nature. By the soul, first of all, he is reunited to God; in\nhis spirit, now restored to true life, he enters into a living and\nclear communion with all other kindred spirits; and by his will, now\nclearly seeing and working in God, he assumes once more his original\nrelation to nature as her first-born son and her legitimate lord.\n\nBut nature, as the creature that groaneth and travaileth in pain\ntogether, waiteth in earnest expectation for its perfection and\nrestoration. And this is the only view of it that is either founded in\ntruth or really Christian. And in this idea of creation groaning and\ntravailing in pain lies a fullness of prophetic intimations for nature.\nWhile she seems on the whole to be deeply slumbering, this alone excites\na hope of a great and general awakening; whereas it is scarcely a\ngeneration and a half, or two at most, since physical science first\nbegan to awaken out of the grave of its own dead notions, when in nature\nitself, no less than in the science of it, all seemed sunk in death.\n\nWe need not, therefore, be surprised if this Christian view of nature\nand a dynamical physiology evince so little of agreement. For the latter\ninvariably regards the system of nature as something absolute and as\nperfect and complete in itself; but this it evidently is not. And indeed\nmany an eloquent theological essay on the proofs of design in nature and\non its indications of the goodness of the Creator, sets out on a\nsimilarly defective hypothesis, that nature, in its present condition,\nis exactly the same as God originally created it. But this is directly\ncontradicted by the promise so expressly and distinctly made to the last\ntimes, of \u201cnew heavens and a new earth.\u201d For this not merely implies,\nbut rather asserts, that nature stands in need of a grand renovation,\nwhich it transcends the ordinary course of its proper powers of\ndevelopment to accomplish, and which, consequently, is only conceivable\nas brought about by the immediate operation of divine power, or of a\ncelestial theocracy for this purpose, in the time of the universal\nregeneration.\n\nWe are far more ready and disposed to assign to the powers of evil a\ngreater influence and a wider field of operation in the world of man\nthan in the system of nature. But it is, perhaps, more conformable to\ntruth to see in the present condition of the latter a state of truce\nwith the evil and destructive powers which formerly raged more\nfiercely--an interval during which the conflict is confined within\ncertain limits, rather than as a complete and perfect peace. Its\nexternal influences, as they affect man, must not be taken for the\nstandard in this case; for they may be merely accidental; just as the\nordinary inundations belong to the economy of the balance of the\nelementary forces of nature, and as the storms and tempests, which\noccasionally are fearfully destructive, are, nevertheless, it is clear,\na process necessary for the purification and salubrity of the\natmosphere. But, on the other hand, many facts of medical experience and\npeculiar phenomena of disease, or even births of faulty or defective\norganization--as well as the lothsome generation of insects in the\natmosphere or on the surface of the earth, and many diseased states in\nboth--when viewed simply and elementarily, and apart from the usual\nprinciple of epidemic contagion, appear to point rather to some\nintrinsical evil and originally wild demoniacal character in the sphere\nof nature, even though they only occur as exceptions to these general\nlaws. How deadly even sidereal influences may prove is at least\nestablished by the fact of lunacy. In those fields of celestial light,\ntoo, and those brilliant hosts of heaven, which, as nature\u2019s more\nretiring and lovelier charms, become visible only by night, and display\nthemselves to the calm and tranquil soul, all is not in such perfect\nunison and harmony as the first impression would lead us to suppose. A\nnote of discord arises from the irregular orbits of those eccentrically\nrevolving stars, which, though rare in their appearance, seem to be\npretty numerous--exercising either a watery or an arid influence on the\nterrestrial atmosphere, and whose paths astronomy has indeed calculated,\nthough her calculations have not always been verified. All our\nknowledge, too, and recorded observations of the rest of nature, _i.e._,\nin this sense of the earth itself, does not go beyond the\nsurface--consequently to only one portion of it; and yet perhaps that\ninternal part, which is hidden from us, is the very one that is most\ndeeply significant, and more nearly akin to the eternal. Nature, in her\ninterior and reality, may perhaps possess little resemblance to what we\nsee of her externally. At every step we stumble on some new proof of our\nignorance, and much also that gives an intimation of a new and unknown\nworld.\n\nNature in general may, for us, be compared to a towering pyramid of\nhieroglyphics heaped together at random, from which, with our utmost\npains, we can scarcely succeed in bringing together and deciphering two\nor three at most, while we have not the key for interpreting the\nmeaning and order of the whole; for we must not, as under a very\nerroneous idea is often done, seek this in nature itself, but entirely\nin its divine principle; for in this must all that is unintelligible\nfind its solution. Now, in that one part of nature which we are best\nacquainted with, its surface--after that law of sexual distinction which\nreigns not only in the animal but also in the vegetable world, and\nwhich, moreover, in a certain sense prevails in the very atmosphere and\nits elementary organs of life--no other law of nature is so universal as\nthat of death. But if it be true that through that spirit and power of\nevil who first revolted from God, death came into the world, and also\ninto nature, then must the earthly and now natural death have proceeded\nfrom the author of eternal death.\n\nVery questionable, in this case, would it appear to be, whether the\nfirst and original creations of nature were other than immortal. If He\nwhose essence is omnipotence thinks hieroglyphics, then are they living\ncreatures; and can we, judging of Him in Himself, and His proper nature,\nsuppose that He would conceive of or create aught else than what is\neternal and immortal? The old curse still hangs over nature, wherein the\nfirst author and inventor of death has contrived to root himself so\ndeeply. And that malediction was not removed by the first man; on the\ncontrary, it was deepened and confirmed by him. And even at the divine\nrenewal of the human race, the same anathema was again pronounced upon\nthe natural tree of an earthly life, condemning it to wither still more\nand more under the baneful dominion of death. The victory over death is\nonly to be gained together with the perfection of man. And then shall\nfollow a theocracy and divine renovation of nature, under which all that\nis therein shall again become immortal. A perfect harmony shall thereby\nbe restored to the whole of creation.\n\nEND OF PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE.\n\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE OF THE GERMAN EDITOR.\n\n\nIn these pages we give to the world the philosophical Lectures which the\nlate F. V. Schlegel delivered last winter, at Dresden, to a numerous and\ndistinguished auditory--the last monument of his life and mind. To many\nof his personal hearers they will probably be welcome, as enabling them,\nin the perusal of what their own ears so lately heard, to realize more\ndistinctly the matter of the Lectures, and the whole person of the\neminent individual who was so unexpectedly taken away from among them.\nBut to a still larger circle of the friends and admirers of Schlegel,\nthis publication will, no doubt, be acceptable, especially since, under\na pervading reference to language, it throws much light and more fully\ncarries out the views advanced by Schlegel in the Lectures delivered two\nyears before, at Vienna, on the Philosophy of Life. In this rich and\nimportant fragment, Schlegel\u2019s whole idea of philosophy stands out far\nmore clear and distinct, though, for its complete elucidation and\nexposition, it was his intention, had he been spared, to add at least\none more series of Lectures to the three already given to the world.\n\nThe present publication is eminently calculated to show what in these\nthree connected series of Lectures it was the author\u2019s first object,\nboth as a thinker and teacher, to accomplish, viz., to convey the living\nwords of his inmost mind, rich with the fruits of many years\u2019 study and\nresearch, to all who possessed a sensibility or disposition likely to be\nroused and animated thereby to pursue or promote some kindred inquiry or\nobject. It would, therefore, be a proof of grave misconception to make\nsuch requisitions on these Lectures as are incompatible with this end\nand with the character which they most covet, of being, in the higher\nsense of the term, a living discourse; for, to satisfy such demands was\nneither the design or wish of the author. It was not his purpose either\nto take some single abstract notion, and by detailed elucidation to make\nit clear and obvious, nor to set up some rigorously limited system of\nnotions, with its definitions and arbitrary terminology, whose great\nmerit should be made to consist in such regularity of plan and faithful\nexecution, as should every where command the notice and the wonder of\nthe reader. In short, it was not his object, in some partial speculation\nof the reason, exclusively to set forth a long series of abstract\npropositions as a model and precedent for such essays. Those, however,\nwho, to use Schlegel\u2019s own words, look upon these Lectures as a series\nof questions to which their own hearts, silently, indeed, give a\nconcurrent answer, or find therein the satisfactory solution to many\ndifficulties suggested by their own reflections on the life and mind of\nman, will not be able to get rid of a just and righteous sorrow, to\nthink that the voice from which they still looked for many such\nquestionings, and much similar instruction, is suddenly silenced, and\nthat none remains who, as inheriting the spirit of the departed, or as\nhis favorite and intelligent scholar, is able to supply what is still\nwanting.\n\nWith this heavy feeling of sorrow, it seems perhaps inconsistent to\nexpress a passing regret that the author has not been permitted himself\nto superintend this edition of his Lectures, and to make those\ncorrections which here and there might have appeared to him desirable. A\nfew passages, noticed thus (\u2020) in the text, were marked by Schlegel\nhimself, either for emendation or enlargement, and the loss of these\ncorrections we can not but miss and regret.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE I.\n\n\nBy philosophy--and this term best expresses the historical and original\nconception as it was understood by the Greeks, who so variously and\ningeniously developed it--I understand man\u2019s innate and natural\ncuriosity, so far as it is universal in its scope, and not from the\nfirst limited to any one specific end or subject.\n\nThis natural curiosity, consequently, stimulated by the mysteries of\nexistence, whether in the external world or of its own consciousness,\nwould fain make all these enigmas clear, to itself, and by attaining to\nan inward illumination, would discover the true signification, or, if we\nmay so call it, the all-explaining key-word of life. And, indeed, there\nis no reasonable doubt but that the possession of this revivifying and\nliving key-word would give to life, both individual and universal, a\nmuch more exalted energy. For nothing less than an internal light of\nintellectual brightness, or of the spirit made clear to itself, is that\nsearch after truth and knowledge, by which we discover the key-word and\ntrue signification of life, as a whole. By it all the powers, qualities,\nand faculties of the soul are strengthened anew, inwardly elevated, and\naugmented in force and fertility. And if any would prefer to give the\nname of science to this highest and earliest speculative knowledge or\npursuit of internal certainty and divine truth, we object not, so long\nas it is admitted that it is not a science precisely in the same sense,\nand still less in exactly the same or similar form, as the other\nsciences, which are directed to one specific aim and limited to one\nsubject. Free as life and the free-formed spirit itself, ever new,\nwonderful, versatile, and infinitely varied, both in internal structure\nand external manifestation, are the ways of man\u2019s thinking and\nspeculative spirit. A ready and apposite illustration will clearly\ndemonstrate this peculiar freedom and manifold variety in the methods,\nspecies, and developments of philosophy. At any rate, if it do not place\nit vividly before our eyes, it at least suggests the idea of it. The\nwritten dialogues of Plato--that great master of philosophical\nexposition and of the thinking dialogue of science, with its\never-living and changing play of thought, and earnest spirit of\ninvestigation--are perhaps not less diversified in their course; not\nless wonderfully manifold and exuberant with all the riches of genius;\nnot less peculiar in their general conception, as well as external\ndevelopment; not less exquisite in the finish of the several parts and\ndivisions, than the poetical productions of the greatest and most\nadmired of dramatists.\n\nThose who are best acquainted with the art and the intellect of the poet\nand of the thinker, will be least inclined to dispute the justice and\naccuracy of this comparison. We appeal to the instance of Plato with\ngreater confidence, not only because he stands alone, as inimitable for\nbeauty of exposition, and for fullness and grace, as well as spirit and\nvividness of style, but also because (as is apparent from the numerous\nand varied compositions which he has bequeathed to posterity) every path\nof inquiry previously opened, as well as every road and by-way of\ndialectic subtilty still conceivable or possible, were perfectly\nfamiliar to this lofty intellect. There was, in short, no field of\nspeculative thought and investigation, however high or deep, that\nremained unexplored by him. From any one of his most perfect\nmaster-pieces, consequently, we might perhaps, by a precise and\nexhaustive analysis of the art and skill that lies hidden in it, gain a\nmore correct notion of the true and profitable method of speculative\nthought and investigation than from many or most of our compendiums of\nall absolute ideas and metaphysical chimeras, or from the systems at\npresent in vogue of unconditional logical negation.\n\nIn order, however, to establish this view of a true philosophy of life,\nwhich in its very form is also living, it is unnecessary to appeal to\nany single example, even though it be one so splendid as that of the\nSocratic school in general, or of Plato, the greatest thinker it has\nproduced. For in fact, the whole history of philosophy, from its\ncommencement to its close, will serve as a proof and confirmation of its\ntruth. In various ways does it teach and convince us that in this lofty\nstruggle after truth the most divergent, and even apparently\ncontradictory methods and tendencies may, however, and actually do lead\nto similar conclusions, nay, to one common result. It shows us that,\nhowever various may be the paths, the end of knowledge--the\neagerly-sought jewel of truth itself--is by no means always and in all\ncases tied to any immutable and exclusive rule of one fixed form and\nsolely felicitous method of thought, as to a magic charm on which all\ndepends, and from which all success must flow. The history of\nphilosophy, I said, for, understood in its full extent, in its correct\nsense and spirit, and in its deepest significancy, what else is this\nthan the internal reverse of the picture of man?--the intellectual half\nof humanity, in its development through all the peculiar and remarkable\nprocesses which in the pursuit and cognition of truth--that noblest\nexercise of man\u2019s powers and faculties--he has at any time had recourse\nto. And in tracing this gradual progression, we may easily discern an\ninvisible guidance which shows itself, especially in the more remarkable\nepochs or transition-points and decided periods of the struggle. In the\ngeneral exciting cause, and the new directions which the inward\nintellectual development occasionally took up, and the law it followed,\nan entirely distinct order of things manifests itself to the glance that\nlooks beneath the surface, of a far higher and more exalted nature than\naught which is comprised and established by the insignificant rule of\nour ordinary school methods, or which is only estimated and judged\nthereby.\n\nIt is by no means my wish to set aside the usual scholastic form in the\nacademical exposition of scientific philosophy, or in any way to\ndepreciate it when it is effectively carried out on strict principles.\nIn its right place, and when the occasion demands it, we must\nacknowledge it to be indispensable. It is not to be neglected with\nimpunity. This is especially the case in that period of our life which\nis more particularly and exclusively devoted to the study of the\nsciences, when philosophy naturally takes its place among the rest in\nthe academical course, and also in the systematic mode of instruction\nassumes a form similar to the other sciences. It is involved in the\nalready advanced but briefly and imperfectly developed idea of the\nspiritually free and ever-varying, ever-shifting form which belongs to\nthe very nature of philosophical thought and knowledge, that when\ncircumstances predispose, and its external relations afford the\nopportunity and occasion, philosophy should adopt and appropriate the\nlimited and less absolute form of other sciences, or, as I would rather\nexpress it, may and can condescend to assume them. But this is only a\nspecial application for some collateral purpose, a deviation and\nexception from, and not the rule itself, if we thereby understand the\nnatural rule, or that which is essential and original, and consequently\nthe simplest and highest.\n\nAs regards, however, the philosophy which pretends to be the science of\nlife, and not merely of the school, this principle follows from the\nfact, that when taken as a whole, and when the question is not of any\nspecial application to a particular view and object, its form also must\nbe free and vivid. Consequently, even when classed and associated with\nthe other sciences, it justly lays claim to the first place among them,\nas being of a different nature and origin.\n\nIt is far, therefore, from being requisite that philosophy, following\nthe mathematical sciences as a handmaid, should endeavor servilely to\ncopy them, as has been so often erroneously done, and, in spite of\nexperience of its impracticability, over and over again attempted.\nStill, with a true view of a living philosophy, mathematical science,\nhowever dead in itself, and even fatal to a higher spirit, attains under\nprofounder apprehension to intrinsic significance, and becomes elevated\nand ennobled. The true method (that, namely, which alone deserves to be\nso called, the method of truth) is based on the simple process of\nthought and its living development, in which one thought springs and\nunfolds itself naturally from another, and rigidly excludes all that is\nforeign and repugnant. The true method does not move in paragraphs and\nnumbered propositions, making an outward parade of an apparently strong\nchain of evidence, in which, however, a rigid scrutiny often detects\nsome specific link in the chain totally valueless and without illative\nforce, or at least weak and far from cogent, or placed in a false\nposition, to which it has properly no reference, and only in appearance\nfilling the void it covers. Thus it is also with what we call system, or\nsystematic. We are indeed accustomed to employ this word in a twofold\nsense--either to convey praise, or in an evil and deprecatory\nsignification. In the latter use we say, \u201cThis or that work is nothing\nbut a system,\u201d or, \u201cAccording to this or that system.\u201d But by such\nphrases, when criticising any comprehensive theory of scientific\nthought, we do not mean that the work is entirely without foundation,\npurely and absolutely imaginary. For in such a case it would hardly be\nworth while to spend more words upon it. Our meaning rather is, that\nwhile containing something that is true, and much that is excellent,\nundue importance is ascribed to the system, or too much is inferred\nfrom it, every thing being forcibly made to agree with it, and itself\ncarried beyond the limits of sober truth: in a word, that the systematic\ncoherence is only external and specious, and the result of much labor\nand art. In reality this is very frequently the case. This course is too\noften pursued in the theories and discoveries of modern science,\nespecially in those branches which stand in the closest relation to\nphysical life and its preservation, and are consequently most influenced\nby the fashionable ideas of the age. Some happy thought, bearing the\nvery stamp of genius, some ingenious idea or entirely new view is\nstarted; on this foundation a system is forthwith raised, either by the\nauthor himself or his followers and disciples. Embraced with the ardor\nof enthusiasm, the novel theory is further extended and promulgated, and\nbecomes the watchword of a sect or party, until, degenerating into a\nmere fashion, and being borne up awhile by the eddies of the moment, it\nsinks at last into insignificance, and is swallowed up by the vast\nstream of time. When once the matter has reached this point or this\nstage in the pathology of human thought and opinion, then that first\nidea and original invention may be considered as good as defunct, or at\nleast is, as it were, buried alive, and the true vital principle which\noriginally animated it is no longer perceptible.\n\nBut in a good and legitimate sense we may characterize a scientific work\nor a scheme of thought as systematic, or as forming a system in itself,\nand as such approve of it, if only it possesses the virtue of internal\nconsistency, and the spirit of unity pervades and animates it. And if\nthis consistency of idea be really intrinsic and spiritual, and at the\nsame time living and natural, it will be easily recognized in its\nperspicacious simplicity of form and expression. It will need neither\nthe external display of systematic precision and prolix demonstrative\nargumentation, nor the apparently rigid concatenation of paragraphs, in\nwhich, however, the forced connection and the panoplied array of\npropositions form but a poor device to conceal the deficiency of\nintrinsic life and unity.\n\nThe case is precisely the same with the science of human thought and\nphilosophy, as with external life and daily experience. Nothing is more\nhighly estimated in society, business, or politics, than an active and\nconsistent character. Properly speaking, this example is not so much a\nsimile as the very thing itself, or the same subject viewed from another\nground or in a different relation. But this high and rare property of a\ngenuine consistency of character does not depend on the delivery of a\nmultitude of philosophic adages in and out of season, or the specious\nthrusting forward of moral maxims, but rather manifests itself amid\ngeneral reserve and silence, by its straightforwardness of action, or\nwhen it speaks, by the clear simplicity of its language. So is it also\nwith consistency of idea in philosophy. The intrinsic and vital unity of\na comprehensive system of thought--the systematic coherence which\nresults from a reigning idea of the whole, reveals itself and is to be\nknown by a simple and familiar form of expression, not unlike that of a\nfriendly conversation, and is not exclusively confined to any\nprescriptive or preconceived formula of the schools or artificial\nmethod.\n\nBut in respect to academical instruction, and the position which\nphilosophy either may or ought to occupy therein, I have one remark to\nadd. If I may judge by my own experience, or by what I have at times\nobserved in others, either when as a youth I was an academical student,\nor when afterward, as a visitor at several of the German universities, I\ntook part in the scientific pursuits, and occasionally as a lecturer\npropounded my own views and opinions, a decided and striking division\nseems to subsist between philosophy and the peculiar scientific studies\nproper to the future wants of life. This is, however, less the case with\nthe study of medicine, which, being founded on, and conversant with, the\nscience of nature, stands in a close relation to philosophy. Still even\nthe prosecution of this natural science proves distinctly enough that\nthe interests of general science follow entirely different paths from\nsuch as are most eligible, and more especially conducive to the\nacquirement and collection of particular information. Still more does\nthis apply to that numerous class who devote themselves to civil\nprofessions, and whose future life is to be employed in political\ndepartments. By them philosophy is pursued as a mere collateral and\nsecondary object of study, as a half-superfluous intellectual luxury.\nBut this she nowise admits of; she demands an earnest and devoted\naffection, and must be embraced with the full ardor of love. It is in\nthis very earnestness of purpose, and this genuine attachment and\nenthusiasm, that it has its source and being. Hence we may often observe\nmany a studious youth attracted by the general question as to the\nnature of the human soul, and by these sublime investigations into the\nmysteries of existence. Under the influence, as it were, of some magical\nspell, he is absorbed in them so as completely to forget and lose sight\nof the studies appropriate to the calling he has chosen, or at least to\nneglect them, viewing them as comparatively secondary, while others of\nmore practical tendency steadily devote themselves to the study of their\nprofession, and confine themselves exclusively to its pursuit. Rigidly\nrejecting the metaphysical charm and seduction of system, as a dangerous\nlure, they care little, if at all, for the contempt with which the other\nclass, whom dialectic speculation has bewitched into forsaking its\nproper object of study, looks down upon them as incapable of rising to\nthe height of its own exalted argument. Now, if I might venture to\nhazard a suggestion for the removal, or at least the accommodation, of\nthis alienation from, not to say opposition to, philosophy, which exists\nin the tone of our German universities, and if it be not out of place\nhere to enter into this matter, my first desire and advice would be,\nthat the study and course of philosophy should be kept entirely distinct\nfrom that of the profession or the particular science which is learned\nwith a view to future avocations in life. In such a case philosophy\nmight most advantageously be taken up by the student after the\ncompletion of his other studies, in short, at the conclusion of the\nwhole academical course, setting, so to speak, the crown upon it, and\nforming the last step which the pupil must take before he enters upon\nthe realities of life.\n\nMoreover, there is no leisure for idle meditation during the years of\nacademical study--that period of preparation which few have a second\ntime afforded them, and which, being entirely practical, ought to be\nspecially devoted to the perfect mastering of the special sciences which\nin after-life are to occupy us. It is rather in our later and maturer\nyears, after the acquirement of the particular professional knowledge,\nand even in the midst of the active business of life, that leisure,\ntogether with a convenient opportunity, or a natural occasion, is\nafforded for that meditation with which philosophy ordinarily begins,\nbut which in its results remains no idle speculation; or for that\napparently superfluous inquiry, which, however, investigates a subject\nmore necessary and more essential to man than all else.\n\nSo much--if it has not been indeed too much--I believed it requisite to\nsay concerning the form of philosophy, not so much to justify or to\nexcuse that which in the present case I could alone adopt, as rather\nfrom this point of view also to establish the independent position, and\nto depict the lofty aims of philosophy. For if philosophy is nothing\nless than the actual science of life (and the skeptical query whether\nsuch a science be either possible or attainable by man, will in nowise\naffect the question; for if the doubt concerning the nature of life, or\nlife itself, is suggested by life, and consequently is living and real,\nit amounts to the same thing, and the objection applies alike to the\ndoubt or the certainty)--if, I repeat, the object of philosophy be the\nsublime conception of our inner life, struggling to unravel the mystery\nof its own being, how can it be right, or how could a wish arise to\nexclude from it one half of humanity, or society, or of civilized life?\nThe proper sphere of philosophy, no less than of art, is the whole\ncivilized public. This is the body in which it must circulate, and to\nwhich its action must be applied. The specious ground for such an\nexclusion can only be looked for and discovered in the ordinary school\nform, which indeed, as I have endeavored to show, is by no means\nessential to it, but rather a mere accident, which is so far from being\nnecessary, that it is not even of universal application.\n\nIf, therefore, the subject-matter of philosophy is the whole inward life\nof man, if its end is the solution of the ever-recurring questions of\nthe speculative consciousness, and the reading of the enigma of\nexistence, or however else we may choose to characterize and express it,\nit is assuredly something of a distinct and more exalted nature than any\nof the preparatory sciences which make up the academical course of study\nfor the specific objects of some limited calling and profession. The\nphilosophy of life, as it sets out only with one simple position--life,\nviz., man\u2019s inner life--is restricted to no particular sphere, but\nembraces them all in their fit season and occasion. When, indeed, in the\nyouthful, not to say childlike spirit, standing on the threshold of\nexpectation, this inward feeling of life or consciousness has not as yet\nshaped itself into an ardent speculative curiosity, or a grave and\nmelancholy questioning, or when at least, it has not passed through the\nfirst stage of thoughtful wondering, then it is as yet too early for the\nawakening of philosophy--that inward search after truth and meditation\non the nature of our existence and consciousness, that self-examination,\nthose half-doubting yearnings after an unknown love. Youth,\ninexperienced and undeveloped, may reasonably be supposed to be excluded\nfrom a participation in this natural field of philosophical speculation,\nalthough even in this, as in every other case, it is extremely difficult\nto define the precise limits. It would also be idle to repeat the remark\nso often insisted on by the sages of antiquity--that where life is\ntotally absorbed in the business or pleasures of life, or distracted by\nthe cares of avarice or ambition, so that, strictly speaking, no voice\nfrom within is heard, no soul-cherished feeling or sentiment, nay, even\nscarcely a thought purely spiritual, still survives, or finds a place in\nthat world-engrossed bosom--there philosophy finds no ear for her\nsublime revelations of the inner life, nor dares hope for a responsive\necho to her high-soaring meditations, and that profound emotion from\nwhich it draws her own birth.\n\nPhilosophy, I said, takes nothing for granted but life--an internal\nlife, that is. The more perfectly, the more manifold the aspects, and\nthe more comprehensively within the given limits under which this life\nwhich it supposes is viewed and studied, the more easily will it fulfill\nits object, the sooner will it attain to that which constitutes its\nproper end and aim. For this aim is to render clear and intelligible,\nboth to itself and others, that higher life, whose existence it assumes\nas the necessary basis of its speculations. But how would this primary\npostulate, this natural basis of philosophy of life, be restricted and\nlimited, if the sex which is so pre-eminently marked by strong and deep\nfeeling should be entirely excluded from the sphere of its inquiries.\nIndeed, according to a more liberal, comprehensive, and enlarged point\nof view, such as is most consistent with the true nature of things,\nyouth, with its enthusiasm and quick sensibility for the beautiful--its\nfirst and most exalted love--is not to be exclusively given up to the\nfine arts. As the latter are elements of life, and very important\nelements too, they can not be excluded from the sphere of philosophy,\nbut, on the contrary, form no inconsiderable portion of its general\nproblem. The objection, however, might be raised, that these, the best\nand fairest of the gifts which nature dispenses with a liberal and\nbenignant hand, are but transitory, and that they wither and disappear\nbefore the first rude touch of external circumstances that limits their\nfree play; so that, to judge from appearances, they scarcely can abide,\nor be steadily kept up to the gravity of philosophical contemplation.\nOften, it may be urged, some unpropitious destiny, some sudden storm of\nfate, overwhelms and destroys them, stripping the youthful tree of life\nof all its leafy honors before it has properly put forth its blossoms.\nThis, no doubt, is perfectly true. In most cases, however, the\ndestroying principle does not come from without. Fortune and external\ncircumstances have little to do with it. It lies rather in the inner\nimpetuosity of passion, in self-will, or some other dark shade of\ncharacter, perverting and bringing jarring discord into the most exalted\nfeelings of the soul. Would it not be well and especially advisable to\nplace from the very first these tender and delicate flowers of youthful\nfeeling within the influence, and under the action of an inward\nillumination and reflection, as the only probable means of imparting to\nthem greater hardihood and durability, and thereby to convert the fair\nbut ephemeral flowers of youthhood into the mature and enduring fruit of\nsincere benevolence, of a generous activity and inward harmony? There\nis, in truth, no easier or more simple mode by which man can hope to\narrive at this end. It is only by means of such inner light, and purity\nof sentiment and luminous meditation, that we, can hope to work our way\nto the key-word of existence which shall reconcile every difficulty,\nclear up every doubt, and attune to harmony every discord. For hereby\nalso will the power be gained which alone can sustain and protect this\ninner life from every destructive influence. This enlightenment,\nhowever, is nothing else than the philosophy of life, and therein\nconsists its essence.\n\nNow, in order to place before us the very center of the entire question,\nand at least to notice beforehand that which must more perfectly develop\nitself as, step by step, we trace the natural process of thought, both\nin life itself and the science of life, one remark is necessary. The\nsoul is nothing less than the faculty of love in man. For this reason,\nalso, the loving soul (if I may here make such an application of the\nwords of a great teacher) is the clear mirror in which we gaze upon the\nsecrets of divine love either reflected or symbolically figured as so\nmany enigmas, which, nevertheless, serve us as light-giving and guiding\nstars amid the darkness of this earthly existence. And in this pure\nmirror of our soul we plainly behold the eververdant and immortal\nplants or hidden flowers of nature, like the dark bed of the deep\nthrough the clear waters of a still sea. In this mental mirror nature\ngreets us with features less strange and unknown, and with familiar\naspect seems to claim at once a kindred sympathy.\n\nIn these slight and passing remarks, I have touched briefly upon many a\ntopic of which the full development must be reserved for our subsequent\nLectures. Still, though thus limited, they contain the grounds which to\nmy mind fully justify my adhesion to the opinion which, more than thirty\nyears ago, in the first commencement of my literary labors, I advanced\nwith regard to the question of the propriety of excluding one half of\nmankind from this region of speculation. And although, in maintaining\nthis sentiment, I have to stand alone in, or even am opposed to, the age\nin which I live, still on this point I prefer to take as my guide and\nprecedent the ancients, the Socratic school, and, above all, the great\nmaster, Plato. And were it necessary, and the present place admitted of\nit, I might easily, both from ancient history and modern times, adduce\nauthorities enough, both in number and in weight, to refute the opposite\nopinion, or, rather, prejudice.\n\nThe sphere, therefore, and field in which philosophy has to move, or to\nwhich it has to apply itself, is no narrow one, hemmed in and confined\nby any unwarrantable exclusiveness. On the contrary, it must, so far is\npossible for aught that is human, be complete and perfect. And for this\nreason also, she must not, as indeed she can not, take her rise in a\nconsciousness artificially parceled out and divided, and, in short, but\none half of its true self, and which, being biassed and visionary in its\nviews, is divorced from real life. It can originate only in the mind\u2019s\ngreatest perfection and in its full and most undivided entirety,\ninasmuch as to make this consciousness clear to itself and to others\nconstitutes even its proper function and entire aim.\n\nIn the latest period of German philosophy many an ingenious path of\ninvestigation has, no doubt, been here and there struck out. By a\ncritical comparison of different views, systems, and opinions,\ndialectics, as a preparatory course of study, has been improved,\npsychological research advanced, especially the philosophy of nature\nenlarged. Still, on the whole, a purely abstract mode of thinking,\ntotally estranged and separate from actual life, is almost universally\nheld to be the only right road to a profound philosophy. This so-called\npure and abstract thinking takes nothing for granted, and allows of no\npostulate or axiom; it acknowledges none besides, and generally has no\nfoundation save itself; it starts from itself alone, and in so far has,\nstrictly speaking, no proper beginning. Consequently, without proper end\nor aim, it goes on continually revolving around itself as a center, and\nwithin its own charmed circle. Assuredly, where the dialectic art and\nsystem moves within this narrow range of thought, and restricts itself\nthereto, employing a language which, while it is sharply abstruse,\nmetaphysically recondite, and pre-eminently abstract, has at least the\nmerits of clearness and distinctness, and ingenious classification, then\nthe very first result of such an exercise of dialectic art is\nprofitable, although merely negative. For it establishes the fact, that\ntruth and knowledge are not to be attained by this method; that thus it\ncan not profitably be either sought or found. It shows, too, that this\ndialectical preludium itself in nothing more than a preliminary exercise\nthat at most does but serve as an introduction to another more lively\nway of fruitful thought; though even as such it is suited, not indeed\nfor all, but simply for those who enter upon it with this view of its\nnature.\n\nHuman language, with its wonderful suppleness, can adjust itself even to\nthe consciousness which is parceled out and abstractedly divided, so as\nperfectly to copy and reflect it in its ever-movable mirror. It is able\nto give a perspicuous order and an artist-like shape even to the mere\nlogical thought which has no subject-matter. It only fails when the\nlogical conceit of mere empty thought contemptuously rejects in the\ngiddy whirl of supreme abstraction, as its last earthly defect, the laws\nof grammatical art, and refuses to add to its abstract style the merit\nof perspicuity, in order that, as a metaphysical chimera, it may in the\ninaccessible darkness that shrouds the obscure of the high-enthroned\n\u201cEgo,\u201d soar higher and higher, and withdraw itself as much as possible\nfrom the eyes of man. A confused terminology, perfect unintelligibility,\nare the never-failing companions and peculiar characteristics of a false\nphilosophy, which dreams of finding the inestimable jewel of truth and\nscience in a never-ending and elaborate division of the consciousness.\nIt places perfection in an abstraction carried continually higher and\nhigher in its emptiness. But in truth it is only in the living unity of\nthe full consciousness that we can properly understand the pure logical\nforms of thought, such as they are inborn in the human mind, or are\nengraved thereon as the first directive traits and principles of its\nintellect and rational activity. They must be judged of according to the\nplace which they occupy in the whole, and relatively to the manner in\nwhich they act in or influence it. It is thus alone that their true\nsignification can be determined and truly conceived.\n\nAs often, however, as from that self-styled pure, but in reality empty\nand totally abstract mode of thinking, which is divorced from life and\nthe realities of things, it is hoped to raise or to evoke, as it were,\nby spell, a real system of true knowledge, we have a repetition of the\nold history of the Babylonian tower, with its consequent confusion of\nlanguage. Every new system of this kind is nothing more than an\nadditional section of or an appendix to that ancient confusion of\nspeech, as well as of views and opinions, so ancient in the history of\nthe human mind. Each of these builders in the edifice of endless error\ncommences with pulling down the fabric that his immediate predecessor\nand all before him may have commenced, while in the space he has thus\ncleared for his own labors, he founds and rears the imaginary tower of\n_his own_ knowledge and science. He has at least the firm intention to\nraise it still higher--nay, far and far above the height that all before\nhim have attained. But one man understands another just as little as\nhimself. More and more entangled and obscure, consequently, becomes this\nnew confusion of ideas, till at last nothing remains but the anomalous\nruins of crumbled and abraded thoughts, which even when entire were only\nso many lifeless stones--mere abstractions, soon either wholly\nforgotten, or if surviving, becoming daily more and more\nunintelligible--since the original lexicon or alphabet, or the\nall-explaining key to these rare and singular characters, can be\nrecovered only with the greatest difficulty.\n\nA true and living philosophy can not choose and pursue this method of\never-advancing abstraction; much less can it recognize it as the only\nright one. It proceeds rather from life itself and the feeling of life,\nand, in truth, from a feeling and consciousness of it, which strives to\nbe as complete as possible. Far is it from dreaming that it is in any\nartificial and elaborately-worked-out division of the human mind, that\nit must seek its success or hope to attain its aim--the end of all true\nknowledge. Without that, it feels that man\u2019s consciousness, in its\nexisting state, at least, is already too much rent and distracted by\ndivision, and being by means of this dismemberment checked in its\nnatural action, and weakened and impeded.\n\nAnd this even is the point on which all turns. That philosophy of\nso-called pure, but properly empty thinking, separated and abstracted\nfrom actual reality, without end and without beginning, without ground\nas without aim, knows nothing of our postulate of life, in the full\nextent and sense of this word, so far as any thing is full and complete\nfor man. The thinker, once entangled in the meshes of such a philosophy,\ncan not admit of such an hypothesis, will allow to it no value, or,\nrather, knows nothing of it, and would never be able to make any thing\nof it. And yet, notwithstanding, in this very philosophy an hypothesis\nis started, or, rather, assumed beforehand--one, however, which in truth\nis entirely arbitrary, and which, when examined more closely and with\nrigid scrutiny, betrays at once its utter baselessness. It depends on or\nconsists in assuming that the human mind, as it exists at present, is in\na perfect state, and has remained entire and complete, and altogether\nunaltered from its original constitution. It holds that nothing is\nwanted for the attainment of truth, beyond a careful and skillful\nanalysis of man\u2019s self-consciousness, and a correct and appropriate\nclassification of its several members. But, on the contrary, whenever we\nyield and give ourselves up to the feelings of our inward consciousness,\nand try carefully to understand it simply as it is, the first thing that\nstrikes us most forcibly is a discord and opposition subsisting not only\nbetween ourselves and the external world, but a strife with one\u2019s self\nraging in the inmost center of the mind, so that it seems to fall\nasunder and to rend itself into absolute unconsciousness and\nirreconcilable contrarieties.\n\nNow, is it probable that strife would form the original state or the\nproper destiny of the human or even of any other being? can this, in\nshort, have been the case from the first?\n\nStrife, it is true, prevails every where in human life. It has its\nparties and divisions in the present no less than in the past, in the\nfree intercourse of private as well as in political life, in the family\nas well as in the faith, in knowledge as in thought and opinion.\nWherever these act upon life, or in any way affect it, they invariably\ninvolve it in hostile opposition and sectarian animosity.\n\nBut the immediate question here is not of this strife of the passions,\nor of the moral corruption of the inner character, which is excited by\ntheir indulgence, although, in truth, the external strife of human\nnature, which comes forward, as it were, in a visible and bodily shape,\nand its earliest source in the hidden contentions of the inmost soul,\nwhich arise from its entire constitution and the present condition and\nstate of our faculty of thought.\n\nJust a little also do we refer to any view taken of the sad mutilations\nof the human consciousness resulting either from some faulty\norganization and disease, or from those defects which proceed from\ndefects of character or weakness of intellect. The conditions which,\nrelatively speaking at least, we call physically and morally sound, as\nbeing free from all remarkable deficiencies or disorders, are,\nnevertheless, not to be regarded on this account as perfect, and endued\nwith full living energy, and possessed of their original completeness.\nOn the contrary, in the general mind, such as on the whole we find it at\npresent, and which, in this respect, we may look upon as being in its\ntrue and proper state, there is much that is evidently perverted from\nits right object, much that has fallen a prey to disorder. And indeed we\nare naturally led to take the same view of it when we discover most of\nthe several constituents of the mind for the greater part extremely\nweak, and as it were in a crippled state, and its different faculties\nseldom if ever maintaining a deep pervading harmony, and keeping in\nperfect unison with each other. It is to this internal opposition and\noriginal dissension of the thinking consciousness that I here would draw\nyour attention, as psychologically manifesting itself between thinking,\nfeeling, and willing. In this dissension, so deeply rooted in our inmost\nbeing, intellect and will are, even independently of the effect of human\ninstitutions and observances, but seldom in harmony; while reason and\nimagination, if not always opposed, are at least greatly estranged, and\nseldom maintain a mutual good understanding.\n\nThis is man\u2019s first and ever-recurring, ever-renewed perception of his\ninward life. Careful observation of self is ever impressing on him a\nconsciousness of what we might almost call an inborn, or at least\nhereditary, discord and division in the human mind. This intellectual\nfact, which is one purely psychological and totally independent of the\ndisturbing influences of passion or disease, may in truth well carry us\nto the conclusion which, independently of it, so many other moral\nphenomena and historical traces appear to point at. It leads us on\nalmost irresistibly to embrace that exposition of it which has been held\nin common by almost every ancient people; the doctrine, namely that man\nat the very onset fell from his original state of harmony into\ndissension and disunion, and has since sunk many degrees lower and lower\nfrom the dignity which belonged to him on his first creation. But as\nthis primitive obscuration and degeneracy went to the inmost root of\nman\u2019s being, under its influence, not only his relations to the external\nworld, but also in himself, in his pure internal thinking, feeling, and\nwilling, all is deranged, discordant, and fragmentary, so that very\nrarely indeed do the three co-operate effectually in a living and\nenduring harmony. And it is doubtless because the prevailing theories of\nthe human mind overlook the fact of this great change that they are so\nutterly unsatisfactory and generally so tame and superficial. The\ndetermination, however, how far this event is to be regarded as an\nhistorical fact and rests on authentic tradition, is a question which\nlies beyond our present purpose, and belongs rather to a purely critical\ninvestigation. The immediate and specific aim of philosophy is simply to\nanalyze and clearly understand the psychological fact of the discord and\ndissension which subsists between the several faculties of soul and\nspirit, and to exhibit it just as it is. Having accomplished this, it\nwill then proceed to indicate the point or position from which the work\nof restoration must be commenced, or by which at least the way which\nleads to it may be discovered; the path, namely, of return to the\noriginal harmony of the soul. In other words, its ultimate object will\nbe to discover the means of restoring a living and perfect\nconsciousness, and of bringing about a more harmonious co-operation of\nits hitherto divided powers and faculties, whether of soul or spirit.\n\nNow, even in ordinary experience, certain propitious combinations of\ncircumstances do occur, when this inward strife and innate or hereditary\ndiscord between the understanding and the will, the reason and fancy, is\nhappily overcome. Under their influence the faculties, which previously\nwere separate and divided, or hostilely arrayed against each other, are,\npartly at least, and for one individual life in all its incidents,\nactions, and productions, brought into profitable agreement and\nharmony. These rare occasions are furnished by extraordinary energy of\ncharacter, unrivaled artistic genius, or other high and rare mental\nendowment. These, therefore, form not only so many experimental proofs\nof the possibility of restoring the now discordant elements and the\nisolated organs of the inner man to completeness of unity and entirety\nof life, but also furnish stable points from which to start again, and\nto carry on the work of restoration. Such instances, however, are but\nexceptions from the general course of things. Fortunate and rare\nexceptions they are, no doubt, but still, even as such, they only serve\nto establish more surely and incontestably the predominance of the rule,\nand the universal fact of the internal strife among the faculties of the\nhuman mind.\n\nNot unnecessarily to distract your attention at the very outset, I shall\nfor the present omit to consider many subordinate and derivative, but\napplied and complex faculties of our mind and soul, such as memory, the\nexternal senses, the various instincts, and the conscience. Restricting,\ntherefore, myself immediately to these four principal powers--understanding\nand will, with reason and fancy, which we may regard as the four poles\nof the internal world, or as the quarters of the human consciousness, I\nshall consider generally the opposition which displays itself between\nthese elementary powers of man\u2019s mind. This fact is so universally\nrecognized, and so generally predominant, that it displays itself even\nin the experience and incidents of every-day life. To what amounts the\nopinion so commonly expressed of many men, nay even the greater part\nof distinguished characters, \u201cthat their judgment and will are not in\nunison?\u201d \u201cWhat extensive learning and comprehensive views does he not\npossess,\u201d is said of one man; \u201cwhat acuteness, excellent judgment! What\nmight he not accomplish if he had but the will; but he is so changeful,\nyou can never depend upon him, so inactive, so void of energy of\ncharacter, that he does not himself know rightly what he wishes.\u201d Now\nin such passing estimates of men, it is deserving of remark, that it\nis not the passions, or of passionate transgressions of the moral law,\nthat come in question, but rather some internal defect and weakness.\n\u201cHe has the best will,\u201d is said of another, \u201cis always active,\ncapable of any sacrifice and devotion, and of a firm and undaunted\nresolution; but at the same time he is so narrow-minded, so unbending\nand short-sighted, and possessed by such inflexible prejudices, that\nnothing can in truth be made of him, and every enterprise is sure\nto miscarry that he has any thing to do with.\u201d The discord is not\nindeed in every case so strongly marked and distinct, still every one\nwho at all observes his own consciousness may easily determine, and\nsatisfactorily answer the question, whether this opposition between\nthe understanding and the will, or at least the disposition thereto,\nis not deeply fixed and rooted in our inmost nature, and on the whole\nuniversal. Whence else springs the high estimation in which steadiness\nand consistency of character are generally held, but from the fact that\nit is a rare exception for will and understanding--the inward thought\nand the outward practice--to be in perfect harmony and agreement?\nAnd in truth consistency, thoroughly carried out in the whole life,\nsteadfast unison of idea and practice--in short, power--immediately\nenforces our respect and admiration, even though we may not be able to\nagree with the motive and principles on which it acts, and moreover\nremark much in the whole line of conduct deserving of blame, when\nmeasured by the highest ideal standard of moral justice and perfection.\nHow often do we feel this to be the case in the historical judgment\nand estimate of great and celebrated men, where our admiration by no\nmeans implies or carries with it a full and perfect approbation of\nevery trait in their character or actions. Another mode of view and\ncomparison will perhaps serve to set in a still clearer light the\ncharacteristic feature of the human mind in its present broken and\ndiscordant condition. Man usually directs his glance downward to the\nbrutes, in order, by pointing out its difference from the animal world,\nto determine the peculiar essence of his own being and nature. In this\ncomparison, after much and painful investigation, man discovers that\nalthough his physical organization and the principle of life, the\nblood-soul, as the source of vital heat, is of the same kind and nature\nwith that of the brutes, he nevertheless possesses a rational soul,\nwhich they do not enjoy.\n\nMore instructive would it be, occasionally at least, to raise our\ncontemplation to things above. By this method, many characteristic\nqualities of the human mind might be briefly but distinctly set forth in\nsharper contrast by comparison with other created things, or, as the\npoet calls them, \u201csuperior spirits, with whom we share our\nknowledge.\u201d[62] Leaving this belief in the existence of purely\nspiritual beings, which was common to all nations of the old world, to\nrest on its own deep foundation, and passing over the doubts which might\nperhaps be raised against it, I shall simply take for the basis of my\ncomparison the general idea of these angelic essences, such as from the\nvery first it has been long and widely entertained. Now, from this point\nof view I should be at least justified, were I to point to that\nfickleness and inconsistency, or weakness and even defect of character,\nwhich I have above mentioned and depicted as forming the ordinary\ncondition and the specific characteristic of man, which according to our\nhypothesis does not belong, either in the same degree or at all, to the\npure spirits. With them understanding and willing are altogether one,\nand every thought is at the same time also a deed, every fact perfectly\ncomprehended and carried out, with a design perfectly understood. Their\nactivity is ever one and the same living and uninterrupted operation,\nwhatever be its direction, in a bad as well as a good sense. And thus it\nis that with these spirits knowing and willing are one; so that a living\nand effective intellect is even a very spirit, and equally so is a\nperfectly self-conscious will. But a spiritual being like man, in whom\nintellect and will are not one, is, as contemplated from this point of\nview, a spirit divided and distracted, and one that has fallen into\ndisunion with itself, which only by means of a new and higher aspiration\ncan be again raised to its full energy and living unity.\n\nStill more obvious, and even more striking than the general and\nuniversally prevailing discord between the understanding and the will,\nis the opposition and division which holds both the fundamental\nfaculties or opposite poles of the inner world of consciousness, namely,\nbetween reason and fancy. The fancy is the fertile, and, properly\nspeaking, the inventive and creative faculty of man; but she is blind,\nand subject to many, or rather, we must say, innumerable delusions. This\nis not the case indeed, at least not in the same degree and manner, with\nthe reason, as the faculty of calm prudence in man--the internal\nstandard of the moral equilibrium of his nature. Still, actually to\nproduce, truly to bring forth or to create, is, with all its reasoning,\nutterly beyond its power; and if at times, as is the case with the false\nphilosophy and mere dialectical thinking, it does make the attempt, it\ngives birth to naught but lifeless abortions and mere thought-created\nphantoms of abstract nothingness. It will hardly be necessary to track\nthis opposition between reason and fancy farther, and to follow it into\nthe great arena of public life, or to prove by a lengthened discussion\nthat the men endowed with the best reasoning powers are not at the same\ntime or especially endowed with the fire of genius, or that the most\n\u00e6sthetical and artistic natures are not always the most logical. True\ngenius, however, forms a rare exception to this rule, because in him the\nfaculties of soul and spirit, which are usually found isolated and\nopposed, are happily united and effectually co-operate in an harmonious\nunison. In other words, we have in such a case a union of the creative\nfancy, which in the productions of genius is the most essential point,\nand the acute, discerning sagacity, as also the distinctness of sensible\nshape and order, which can not be absent from any real production of\nart. And yet, for all this, the understanding of the artist is something\nquite distinct from practical reason and logical acuteness. There is,\nmoreover, another state, or, rather, quality of the soul, wherein the\nelse divided reason and fancy are intimately associated and entirely\nreunited. This is a natural, pure affection, and the very faculty of\nlove, which is itself the soul and the peculiar essence of man\u2019s\nspiritual soul. For example, a mother\u2019s love for her child, which is the\ndeepest and strongest of the natural affections; no one can call this\nlove irrational, although it must be judged by an entirely different\nstandard from the reason. At least it does not arise from any\ncarefully-weighed process of the reason, for it is over it that it gains\nits greatest triumphs. In love both halves of the soul are united. For,\ntaken separately and apart, reason is only one half of the soul, and\nfancy the other. In love alone do both concur, and the soul is there\npresent totally and perfectly. In it both halves, which otherwise are\never apart, being again united, restore a perfect state of the\nconsciousness.\n\nAnd in the same manner there is also a means of reunion for the\nunderstanding and the will. And that, too, is a pure, strong, and\nmorally regulated love. Whenever, proceeding from the very depths of\nman\u2019s being, it has become, as it were, a second nature, and having\nreceived a higher and diviner consecration, it forms the still and\ninvisible, but ruling soul of life, then is it the best and surest road\nfor attaining to the reconciliation of the otherwise inveterate and\ndeeply-rooted discord between the intellect and the will. By such a love\nthe inmost man may be restored to peace and harmony with itself, and the\notherwise distracted consciousness, regaining a full and perfect unity,\nis enabled to exercise its best and highest energies.\n\nThe following are briefly the results of this our first psychological\nsketch, so far forth as they are necessary for the purpose and object\nbefore us. The ordinary state of the human mind, such as, in its present\ncondition, it exhibits itself to our internal apperceptions, is one of\nfourfold discord and distraction. Or, rather, if we may so speak, it is\na quadruply divided consciousness, as being a prey to the double\ncontrariety between the understanding and the will, and between reason\nand fancy. But the mind, when restored to its full and living\nperfection, is threefold, or, if the expression be here allowable, it is\na triune consciousness--the soul restored to unity in love--the mind or\nspirit requickened by the energy of a consistent life, and, lastly, the\ninternal sense for all that is highest and divine--which third member,\nas the external medium and the ministering instrument of the other two,\ncan not interfere with or disturb their profound harmony. Now, the\nreturn from the mind, checked and limited in its operation by its\nexisting divisions and discord, into a living triple or triune\nconsciousness, is the very beginning of a truly vital philosophy, and,\nindeed, of a renovated and enhanced vitality.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE II.\n\n\nWhen man is considered relatively to his external existence in the\nsensible world and nature, to which by his body he belongs and forms a\nconstituent part, then the three elements of which, as regarded from\nthis point of view, his whole being or essence appears to consist, are\nbody, soul, and spirit. Now, not even from these are schism and conflict\nexcluded. There is little or no harmony between the higher and spiritual\nprinciple of the inner man and the outer world to which properly his\nsensuous faculty belongs. The natural wants and the organic laws of our\ncorporeal life are at issue with the moral law of the inward\nfeelings--with the exalted requisitions of the soaring thought and the\nprofound desire of the pure spirit. The struggle between these two\ndistinct laws or ordinances of life, the higher and the lower, forms,\nperhaps, the chief problem which in his moral destination on earth man\nhas to solve. At least it constitutes the first beginning and step\nthereof. No doubt, the external frame of the human body, with its\nwonderful organization, presents in the prime of its development the\ncorporeal image of a more exalted and more spiritual beauty. In its\nhighest and happiest expansion--in its noblest forms--in many a bright\ngleam, for instance, of animated expression on the countenance of\nyouth--we read the graceful reflection of a more than earthly\nloveliness. The stamp of man\u2019s heavenly origin is not quite extinct or\ncompletely defaced even in his frame. But on the other hand, it is\nexposed and subject to innumerable injuries, sufferings, diseases, and\ncorruptions; so that we feel at once the truth of the Apostle\u2019s words,\nin calling it the \u201cbody of this death.\u201d Added, then, to the other two\nelements of man\u2019s being, spirit and soul, the organic body forms the\nthird constituent, in which, however, is contained the ground and\noccasion of conflict and strife. In the inner man, indeed, taken by\nitself, and in soul and spirit, as the two constituents of his higher\nlife, there is involved no absolute element of discord. No doubt even\nhere the harmony is liable to many disturbances, and perfect unison,\nperhaps, is very rarely to be met with; but still the discord has not\nits ground in the essential constitution of these two principles of\nsoul and spirit. The contrariety between reason and fancy, understanding\nand will, though existing in the fourfold consciousness of man in its\npresent state, prevails not there by any law of necessity. It is not a\nresult of their essential constitution. Simply, the spirit is the more\nactive faculty of the whole higher principle and of its internal life,\nthe soul the more passive one. I have designedly employed the expression\nthe _more_ active, and the _more_ passive, while thus speaking of soul\nand of spirit; for perfectly passive, and entirely devoid of liberty,\nthe feeling and loving soul is not, as neither, on the other hand, is\nthe spirit perfectly active and independent. The latter stands in need\nof the fellowship of the soul and of the life-giving feeling to kindle\nand to expand it. To a certain degree, both spirit and soul, or at least\nthe preponderance of the one or the other, are dependent on the\norganization and organic differences of sex. In general, we may at least\nassert and admit this much: that, viz., spirit or thought predominates\nin man, but spirit or soul in the female sex. But even here (so\nincalculably great is the diversity of human character and disposition,\nso various are the methods and forms of education and moral culture)\nmany exceptions, either by way of complication or deviation from the\noriginal simple relation, are found to subsist. In no case, moreover,\ncan this preponderance of the reigning element be taken or understood as\na total isolation or severance from the other. On the contrary, there\nare manifold transitions and fusions in the reciprocal action of soul\nand spirit. In the same way that there are peculiar modes of thought, a\nspecial kind of intellect, which, by a happy divination, goes infallibly\nto the point and the truth, and is entirely the judgment of feeling--the\nissue, in short, of the _feeling_ soul; so, too, there are many\nimpressions on the feelings (an ardent love, for instance, and a purely\nintellectual enthusiasm), which take their origin immediately out of\nsome thought, or generally from the understanding. And, in fact, the\nvery separation of the two generally does but lead to their more\nintimate union, and furnish a new bond of unity. Thought and feeling\nstand reciprocally in need of each other. As thought gains new life and\nanimation from the rich feeling, with its facile, tender, and profound\nemotions, deriving therefrom its vital nourishment and sustenance, even\nso the feelings are not unfrequently first awakened, and very often\nstrengthened and elevated, by the lofty flight of thought in its bold\nand searching investigations. It is even this that constitutes, in part\nat least, the attraction of social intercourse, the charm of love, and\nthe happiness of a well-assorted union, which does but become more close\nby years--the one party finding in the other the intellectual or (if the\nterm be preferred) the psychological complement of his own being and\ncharacter.\n\nBut now a similar complement for the void and deficiency which, even in\nthe most favored dispositions, enjoying the highest advantages of\nlearning and culture, still remains in man\u2019s consciousness and internal\nexistence, may be found in yet another wise, and by a far superior\nmethod. We may, for instance, seek this consummation of our nature in\nthat Being who contains in Himself the fullness of all might and of all\nexistence--of all life and of all love--and out of whom both soul and\nspirit proceed and take their beginning. Now, if we should wish to form\nan idea of the heavenly state of supreme felicity, such, at least, as in\nforecasting hope we may suppose it to be, and indeed are justified in so\ndoing, then we may doubtless think of it as such that in it both soul\nand spirit, sunk in the abyss of eternal love, will rest perfectly\nsatisfied. Or rather, in a living communion of thought and feeling, they\nwill most intimately sympathize in this ineffable majesty, being\nabsorbed in the never-failing stream of the infinite plenitude of\ndivinity. In this state of bliss, the body will be dissolved and no\nlonger existent. At least transfigured and changed, it will remain\nnothing more than the pure, luminous veil [_Lichth\u00fclle_] of the immortal\nsoul and the spirit, now totally and freely emancipated. For it will no\nlonger be possible, with any propriety, to think of the body as separate\nand distinct from the soul and spirit, as in truth and fundamentally it\nwill not be separate from them. Now, for this blissful state of perfect\nunion with the supreme essence, no less than for those single and rare\nmoments of mental ravishment, during which, even in this earthly life,\nman occasionally, though transiently, does, by vivid thought, transport\nhimself to such a state, the third element, which as the connecting link\nmust accrue to these two fundamental energies of man\u2019s inward being and\nexistence, in order to complete and perfect it, is God Himself. For it\nis here even as in the external world of sense; there must be a third\nelement. There, however, it is the body, which, as no less essential\nthan the other two, completes the existence of the total man. Merely\npsychologically regarded, and when we adhere and limit ourselves to the\ngiven sphere of the internal consciousness, the triple principle of\nman\u2019s being is neither God, soul, and spirit, as in the higher blissful\nstate, nor even body, soul, and spirit, as in this material world, but\nsimply spirit, soul, and sense. These are the three elements of the\nmind, which as such immediately concern us at present, and form the\nessential basis of the following considerations.\n\nMuch is there that attaches itself to this principle, or follows from\nit. It would consequently only lead to confusion were we at present to\ntake a full survey of all these cognate matters and consequences, and\nlay them before you at the outset. Many of them will arise much more\nnaturally afterward. Even the treating, and the elucidation, of the\nrelation in which the senses, as the third element of the human mind,\nstands to the other two, and the place which it holds among them, will\nhereafter come more appropriately before us. And this is especially true\nof a question which, however, has an important bearing on the matter\nbefore us--the question, viz., whether or not some particular faculty,\neither of soul or spirit, is to be regarded as an internal sense, a\nmoral instinct, or an immediate perception and intuition of the highest\nand best. And, connected with this inquiry, is the remark, that even in\nthe usual outward senses there lies a spark of higher spiritual\nperception--such, for instance, as the artistic eye for beauty of form\nand color, and for grace of motion, or the musical ear for lovely sounds\nand measures; so that even the senses are not so purely corporeal, so\ntotally material and grossly sensuous, as at the first glance they\nappear. But there is another topic which here enforces itself on our\nconsideration, and which, for the correct apprehension of the whole\nmatter, is even still more important than that of the relation which\nsense holds to the other two elements of man\u2019s consciousness. And this\nis to determine whether these two, soul and spirit, are really\ndifferent, or whether it be not probable that, as the active and the\npassive powers and aspects of a higher principle in man, they are, on\nthe whole, one and the same, and consequently ought not, in thought\neven, to be unduly separated and distinguished. But however this\nquestion is to be answered, even though in man they be really and\nnecessarily united, still a relative distinction of them is justified by\nthat preponderance of one or the other which manifests itself at\ndifferent times and in different relations of life. But a weighty reason\nexists for supposing that they are essentially two elements. A fair\npresumption that, after all, soul and spirit are not perhaps one and the\nsame under two several sets, arises from a comparison of man with other\ncreated spirits, if only it be allowed us to make a further application\nof a parallel which, on a certain hypothesis, we have already hazarded.\nFor, however problematical at most the results of such comparisons may\nappear, still in such cases as the present they are often very useful.\nThey tend, at least, to give a sharp and precise determination of the\npeculiar and characteristic features of man\u2019s consciousness. Now, the\nfree and pure spirits far surpass man in energy of will--in activity and\npower--and, secondly, in rapidity and clearness of apprehension,\npossessing as they do an intellect immediately intuitive. In these\nproperties, as contrasted with the mutability and weakness of man\u2019s\nvacillating will, the slowness of his groping and erring intellect, the\nangels have greatly the advantage of man. But, on the other hand, the\nhuman mind or spirit possesses in its peculiar creative fertility a vast\nprerogative, which can not--not, at least, in the same degree--be\nascribed even to the pure creatures of light. And, in truth, it is on\nthe soul, which is not merely receptive or sentient, but also inwardly\nproductive, lovingly creative, and ever giving new forms and shapes to\nthe old and common, that the creative faculty of invention, so\ndistinctive of man, ultimately rests. At least, it forms the inner\nfoundation and root out of which it springs and rises. Fancy, indeed,\nwith its external shape and visible manifestion in art, is only one\nportion of it. But still the other part also of the soul, viz., the\nreason, when directed to its right end, and so long as it remains within\nits natural limits, is a faculty of endless intellectual development,\ninfinite advance, and perfectionment. And, in truth, the position is by\nno means new, that perfectibility or the faculty of endless improvement\n(which, however, is associated with an equally great and no less\ninfinite faculty of deterioration), is the essential and wholly peculiar\nprerogative of man. It is his characteristic property. With regard to\nthe other aspect or portion of the same property, the productive fancy\nnamely, and its creative productions, a similar view to our own--and,\nindeed, under the same parallel and hypothesis--is expressed in the\npoet\u2019s assertion already quoted--\n\n    \u201cThy knowledge thou sharest with superior spirits;\n     Art, oh man! thou hast alone.\u201d[63]\n\nOnly the term \u201cart\u201d must here be understood in a wide and comprehensive\nsignification, so as to take in language. Or, rather, language itself is\nthe general, all-embracing art of man. For nowhere does art evince its\npeculiar, internal, and intellectual fertility, its creative faculty of\ninvention, so striking as in this wonderful structure of human language,\nwith its many compartments. Man, we might well say, in general terms, is\na production of nature that has attained to the perfection of language.\nIn other words, he is a spirit to whom, before all other creatures, the\nword explanatory and declaratory, the guiding, the communicative, and\neven the commanding word, is lent, imparted, committed, or conveyed, and\neven therein consists his original, marvelous, and high dignity, so far\nsurpassing the ordinary standard of creation.\n\nOn this account, therefore, it is only natural and consistent, _i.e._,\nagreeable to man\u2019s nature and dignity, that the comparative\njuxtaposition and parallel which is to lead to a more correct\ncharacterization of the human mind, with its peculiar faculties and\nproperties, should, as I said, be directed upward, rather than, as is\nusually done, downward to the brutes, and to the animal consciousness,\nif, indeed, we may justly ascribe such to them. Now, in this method of\ncomparison I would go a step farther, for by so doing I hope to promote\nthe more perfect understanding of the whole, and also to arrive at a\ncorrect and accurate notion of the several faculties of man\u2019s spirit and\nof the powers of his soul. Which, then, of man\u2019s faculties or powers may\nbe rightly attributed to the Deity, and which not? To answer this\nquestion, however, it is not my intention to enter into any very\ndifficult and abstruse investigations, such as would neither be very\napposite to this place, and perhaps (to speak generally) would be\nabsolutely without and beyond the limits of the human understanding. It\nwill be sufficient for my purpose throughout to take for granted what,\naccording to the universal feeling of mankind, is generally admitted,\nand which is even as generally intelligible, as it is easy of\napprehension and clear. But when I thus without hesitation take for\ngranted a universal belief in the existence of a divine principle,\nnotwithstanding the doubt which in the human mind springs up against\nall else, so also against the highest object of faith, I do so with a\ndeliberate view and purpose. For I shall reserve the solution of this\ngrave problem to a later period of my sketch and exposition of the\nthinking consciousness and of a true living science. It is there, in\ntruth, that it will find its most natural and appropriate place. Here,\nhowever, for the purposes of our intended comparison, which, as the\ninstance itself will prove, is likely to be highly instructive, it will\nbe sufficient if I confine myself to a single remark. The little that we\nknow or can with certainty predicate of God may be comprised almost in\nthe few words, \u201cGod is a spirit.\u201d It is by virtue of this proposition\nthat we ascribe to Him an omniscient intellect and an all-mighty will.\nBoth these attributes or powers of God, are, it is self-evident, in the\nmost perfect harmony, and can scarcely be separated from one another;\nwhereas in man they are frequently widely divergent, at times even\nhostilely oppose each other, and at best do but check and limit their\nmutual action. Here, however, arises the question whether in strict\npropriety we may venture to ascribe to the Deity any of the other mental\nfaculties and powers which man is conscious of, though on a greater and\ndifferent scale, and in a very extended sense?\n\nNow, in the creative energy of God, there is, in truth, comprised the\nplenitude of all fertility, and, if it be allowable so to speak, an\ninexhaustible source of all invention.\n\nBut still, as every one must at once feel, a productive faculty of\nimagination and a creative fancy can not on this account be ascribed to\nHim; for, were we to do so, we should step at once into the domain of\nmythology with its fabulous gods. And even as little, in strict\npropriety and accuracy of language, can we attribute to God the faculty\nof reason, which, in man, is the opposite of fancy. Reason is the\nconnecting, inferring, discursive faculty of thought. But all this, with\nits graduated series of ideas or conceptions, is not applicable to the\nDeity, for in Him all must be thought of as standing at once and\nimmediately before the divine mind, or, rather, as directly emanating\nfrom Him. Consequently, in a strict sense, and following a rigorous\nprecision of a thoroughly correct designation, we may indeed ascribe to\nGod an immediately cognizant and intuitive understanding, but not\nreason; since, by this term, it is only by a violent abuse of language\nand a total conversion of ideas that a faculty of intellectual\nintuition can be understood. One kind alone, or branch of reason, is\nimmediately intuitive; and that is the conscience, or the moral\ninstinct, for the appreciation of whatever is good or evil, right or\nwrong. This might not inaptly be called an applied reason; viz., a\nreason applied to the will and to its inmost motives, and to its just\ncommencing, still inchoate determinations, out of which external actions\nultimately issue. But even because conscience is an immediate perception\nof right and wrong, a moral instinct for good and evil, and,\nconsequently, in form, wholly distinct from that function of reason\nwhich infers and deduces consequences, I am indisposed to give it such a\nname, and would rather regard it as a peculiar faculty of soul or heart,\nsubsisting by itself, and intermediate between will and reason. In any\ncase, it would be superfluous to observe how highly inappropriate it\nwould be to designate by this name that warning or punitive judicial\nvision with which God looks through and penetrates the inmost heart,\neven though we must seek here the root and origin of the lucid oracles\nand simple revelations of the human conscience. As a property, however,\nit can only be ascribed to those beings who, like man, behold the law of\nGod far above them, but by no means to that Being who is Himself the sum\nand source of all moral laws. But let us now revert to our first\nquestion of the predication of reason to the Deity. If, in our present\nreigning systems, and especially in the latest German philosophy, reason\nis, notwithstanding, ascribed to Him, or, rather, the eternal,\nunconditional, and absolute reason is itself called God, and rationality\nis made to be His essence; this is but the immediate consequence of the\npredominantly pantheistic tendency of these systems, in which the Deity\nis identified with the mundane All, and resolved into the universal\nessence. For, inasmuch as it was felt that it could not be merely the\nall-producing and all-absorbing--the all-bearing, infinite, vital power\nof the heathen systems of nature--and, since a more scientific\ndesignation was required, nothing remained for the totally abstract\ndesignation of the one All, but the name of that faculty which even in\nthe human mind forms the principle of unity.\n\nNo doubt, in the preceding centuries, one or two great teachers have\nemployed very similar, if not identical expressions, in reference to the\nDeity; still this, to my mind, appears an exception from the general\nrule, to be explained and justified only by individual terminology and\npoints of view. And, at any rate, it is much safer to follow the ancient\nusage on this point. Accordingly, I have made it a law scrupulously to\nobserve it throughout. But if people will at once subvert the ancient\nmodes of speech, and completely interchange and confuse the ordinary\nsignification of the terms reason and understanding, then all must\nnaturally turn on the thing itself and the internal thoughts and the\nproper meaning which lies at the bottom of them. And then, by a due\nconsideration of these, a mutual understanding may perhaps be eventually\narrived at, notwithstanding the different modes of speech. With most of\nthe writers and philosophers of the present day this, perhaps, is\nscarcely to be hoped for. The grave question, however, here (and which,\nas it lies at the bottom, must ultimately decide on this difference of\nphraseology), is this--whether philosophy in general is, according to\nthe rationalistic way of thinking, a mere philosophy of reason, or a\nhigher philosophy of the spirit and of spiritual revelation, or, indeed,\nof a divine experience.\n\nFurther, whenever, in the olden phraseology, there are ascribed to the\nDeity, memory and even desires, not to say impulses, which, viewed\nnearly in the same light as man\u2019s appetites and passions, are designated\nby the same terms, all this is to be understood in the same way as the\nexpressions concerning His all-seeing eye, His ear, and His mighty arm.\nThey are merely figurative and symbolical phrases. In the use of them\nthere is no pretension to scientific accuracy, with which understanding\nand will are universally and actually ascribed to Him. They are devoid\neven of that apparent probability which gives rise to the question,\nwhether imagination and reason can, with the same propriety as the\nformer two, be attributed to Him. With as little truth can a soul be\nascribed to Him. For this is, exclusively, a passive faculty; whereas,\nin God, all is energy and activity. The expression, however, of a soul\nof God, is found, by way of exception from the general usage, in a few\namong ancient writers.\n\nA more correct mode of indicating what is meant by this term would be to\nsay that God is love, and that love is even His essence. Or the same\nidea would be well conveyed by speaking, under the form of a living\nforce and property, of God\u2019s fatherly heart as the center of His being,\nof His omnipotence and omniscience, and of the infinite love which\nresults from the two. No doubt even this expression of God\u2019s fatherly\nheart is merely figurative and symbolical. Still it is one of high\nsignificance, and, as such, it is not a mere figure without meaning.\nFor, the higher and profounder spiritual philosophy, from Plato down to\nLeibnitz, has ever purposely employed such symbols and figures to\nindicate that which properly is inexpressible. In fact, it has always\npreferred them to the abstract notions employed by the rationalizing\nsystems of our own lifeless metaphysics of naught, which, as they are\nvoid in themselves, so do they in reality say nothing.\n\nThus, then, has the very first step in this comparative psychology\ncarried us, at once, to the utmost limits of what is knowable by man.\nStill it has tended, in passing, to place in an eminently distinct light\nmany important matters and essential properties and faculties which\nbelong to our present sphere of psychological inquiry. It is now,\nhowever, necessary for me to turn my regards back to the point from\nwhich we started. In order to commence our philosophy of life with the\ncenter of life and of man\u2019s whole consciousness, we set out from a\npsychological fact, which immediately impresses itself on the awakening\nconsciousness. This fact is the perception of the discord which reigns\nin our entire self, and especially of the deep-rooted dissension which,\nin their usual state, divides the four principal faculties of the\nconsciousness, according to the twofold contrariety of understanding and\nwill, and of reason and fancy. I will here merely add the remark, that\nfurther still, another essential property of man, and a state equally\ncharacteristic and peculiar to him, is closely associated with, and,\nindeed, is grounded in this internal discord, viz., the freedom of the\nwill and the state of doubt. Now, this freedom of will which belongs to\nman is very different from the freedom of God, or even from that of the\npure spirits who were first created. The notion of free will, however,\nis so deeply and firmly grounded in our inmost feelings, that man\u2019s\nuniversal conviction of it can never be wholly undermined by any doubts\nof the reason, however subtilely advanced, and, in appearance,\ndemonstratively urgent. No objection or difficulty can totally\nextinguish and annihilate the persuasion of its truth within our breast.\nFor even after the greatest shock which our faith in ourselves may\nsustain, either from reflection or from subtilely refining on the\nsubject--after what, apparently, is a complete refutation of its truth,\nthis divine and inborn prejudice (if I may so term it) of our intrinsic\nfreedom still springs up again. As the inextinguishable vital flame of\nthe spirit, it rises anew from the expiring embers of those deadening\ndoubts, which are themselves nothing more than the dead notions and null\nphantoms of a false semblance of thought. Now this freedom of will is a\nliberty of choice, _i.e._, a will long vacillating between two different\nseries of ideas--of opposing grounds and reasons, and, at last, deciding\nfor one or the other. This volition, however, is, by its nature, so\nlittle decided, and frequently finds so great difficulty in coming to a\ndecision, that even when externally it has already concluded its\ndeliberations, it often becomes again undecided and begins anew to\nhesitate. Or this freedom of choice in man may otherwise be described\nand thought of as a decision of the understanding, which compares\ntogether two different volitions, carefully weighs the conflicting\ngrounds in favor of each, and, at last, in its final judgment,\nrecognizes the preference to one or the other. Consequently, this free\nwill and choice, so peculiar to man, depends intimately and essentially\nupon that controversy between understanding and will, which, if not\ninborn, has become, at least, a second nature to him. I have spoken of\nthis freedom of will as peculiar to man, since it is not necessary, and\nrather would be a most arbitrary hypothesis, were we to go so far as to\nassert, that, assuming the existence of other free but created essences,\nour own special kind of freedom is the only possible and conceivable\none. Still, for our present purpose, it is allowable to make such a\npurely hypothetical simile and comparison, if (a point on which the\nexperiment itself must decide) it be likely to render our own peculiar\nform of consciousness more intelligible and conceivable. In this sense,\nthen, we may go on to say, that we must conceive the liberty of the\nblessed spirits as being in its essence very different from that of\nman\u2019s. As such it belongs to beings who have long passed beyond the\nprobation of the still undecided choice, or who, at the very beginning\nof their existence, were, by the design of the Creator, withdrawn from\nit, and have, consequently, attained to eternal freedom, together with\nundisturbed and undisturbable peace in God, who is the sum and\ninexhaustible source, as well as the unfathomable, of all freedom, no\nless than of all life.\n\nBut even irrespectively of this freedom of choice for actual life and\nits particular objects and motives--irrespectively, also, of the freedom\nwhich is conversant about external actions, and of the inward moving\ncauses of the will which contain the first ground and hidden germ of the\nformer, and of that state of uncertainty which follows therefrom, and\nwhich not unfrequently long vacillates between one side and\nanother--there are, also, in pure thought, simply as such, a similar\nstate of internal hesitation or doubt--_i.e._, of a thought hostilely\nattacking, undermining and destroying, denying, and annihilating even\nconsciousness and cogitation itself. Left wholly to ourselves, when,\nclosing our regards to the external world, and without any definite\nobject, we calmly commit ourselves to the stream of purely internal\nthought, we soon become sensible of this fact. On the one hand, there\ncrowd on the mind the impressions of the outward senses, and the\nmanifold creations of the peculiar, never-resting faculty of cogitation,\nseeking to gain the mastery over and to carry it along with them. On the\nother side, the distinguishing and discerning reason comes in with its\nquestions and doubts, and chemical analysis, to resolve every thing\nfinally into naught, and to explain all the conceptions of the mind as\ngroundless and unsubstantial, as so many pure illusions of the senses,\nconceits of caprice, prejudices of a limited understanding, and mere\npictures or creations of fancy. Thus, then, the ever-swelling flood of\nthought in man\u2019s inner being and cogitation is not any calmly-flowing\nstream, in which wave quietly follows and succeeds to wave, as through\nrich and fertile plains it pursues its course from some distant source\nto the wide and open sea. The fearful conflict of thought is rather some\ndouble current, where, amid the crags and rocks, the pent-in waters,\nconfining one another, beat up into foaming breakers--or, still more\ndangerous, beneath their apparently calm and smooth surface, they form\nthe tearing whirlpool with its bottomless abyss, which, at the least\nincautious approach, hurries, irresistibly, into its vortex the tossing\nlittle boat of man\u2019s brief existence. For the most part it is only in\nnatures originally, at least, highly endowed and noble, that doubt and\nthis internal struggle of thought rise to the height of despair. These\nalone are finally driven, by the rejection of all belief in themselves,\ninto utter ruin both of soul and spirit. The tendency, however, to a\nstate of struggle and doubt is universal. It seems to be nothing less\nthan a characteristic property of human nature, and to have its\nfoundation in the dissension subsisting between reason and fancy, which\nhas so firmly established itself in the mind of man. It may happen, no\ndoubt, that in a mind whose opinions are settled both in theory and\npractice, no instability will be found to subsist in the plans which\nguide and regulate life, but that, on the contrary, they are, on the\nwhole, followed out with fixed resolution and decided energy. And yet,\neven in such a case, particular doubts will occasionally arise affecting\nmany matters (which, although subordinate to the fundamental laws of\nlife, are, nevertheless, far from being unimportant), so as to force\nupon us the remark, or even to extort the confession that, in general,\nsuch a state of immovable determination does not belong to human nature,\nand that this internal conflict forms one element of that warfare of\nlife to which man is called. The predisposition to this I have referred\nto the discord between reason and fancy, and, for brevity\u2019s sake, I have\nemployed, throughout, the latter designation for it. I must, however,\navail myself of the present occasion to observe, that fancy is not\nlimited merely to poetry and the fine arts, and their respective\ncreations, but inasmuch as all productive thought belongs to the\nimagination in the same way that the negative does to the reason, it\nalso co-operates more or less with science. It is, therefore, chiefly in\nthis latter and larger sense that we here employ the term, since it is\nfrom the contradictions of the productive and negative thought that the\nstruggle and state of doubt arise.\n\nThe first truth, then, that psychology arrives at, is the internal\ndiscord within our fourfold and divided consciousness. Having commenced\nwith a slight characteristic sketch of this fact, I have attempted to\ngive a further and deeper grounding, and to invest it with a higher and\nprofounder significance. To this first perception we appended, as the\nsecond member in the series of our philosophical investigation, the idea\nof a triplicity of consciousness as restored to its perfect and living\naction. According to this view, the simple division of the mind is into\nspirit, soul, and sense. And this will, in all our subsequent Lectures,\nform the basis of our psychological reflections on the human mind. It\nwill also serve as the transition from the ordinary state of the\nconsciousness in discord with itself, and with its fourfold division, to\nthe reunited triple consciousness. We shall make it the starting-point\nand first step in this philosophy, which, as it sets out from life, is\nalso to lead to a higher life.\n\nBut now, even in the mind\u2019s ordinary state there are many such\nbeginnings of a higher order of things--many moments of a more\nconcentrated energy, which bespeak a joint operation of the otherwise\ndivided faculties and powers of soul and spirit, and have for their\nresult a partial restoration, at least, of harmony to this otherwise\ndismembered whole. Among these I would mention, first of all, that inner\nfixity of character, where thought, will, and conduct are consistent\nthroughout; secondly, a true artistic genius in the creations both of\npoetic and plastic fancy. Lastly, there is that ardent and disinterested\nlove, with its magnanimous self-sacrifices, which, though it surpasses\nall the limits of reason, can not, nevertheless, be looked upon as a\nmere imagination or illusion of fancy, forming as it does a profound and\nnatural energy of the human soul, and constituting in truth its true and\nproper essence. No doubt the external phenomenon and effect of this\nelevated principle of the soul is often tarnished and lessened by the\ndull admixture of earthly ardor, and the bewilderment of passion. A true\nand perfect manifestation of the feeling, consequently, is no less rare\nthan the truly felicitous creations of real artistic genius. Still it is\nto it that we must look for the first principle of a higher living\nthought and the true science thereof. The truly loving soul needs only\nthe excitement and guidance of a mind or spirit ripened and matured in\ndivine experience. Accordingly, the consciousness thus restored to unity\nand completeness of perfection becomes actively operative in its triple\nenergy. And in the same manner the spirit striving with most ardent\naspiration after the divine, requires nothing but such an animating\ncontact with the loving soul, in order to attain fully and effectually\nto its desired end.\n\nIn the series of combining elements or principles of union for the\notherwise divided consciousness there is yet another phenomenon, both\ngreat and comprehensive in itself, and which also reveals itself as such\nin actual life and experience. And this phenomenon is furnished by\nlanguage, with its wonderful variety and yet truly artistic uniformity.\nFor it is the vital product of the whole inner man. All the faculties\nboth of soul and spirit, however discordant generally, combine each, in\ntheir full share and measure, to perfect this their conjoint production.\nAnd yet, after all, many traces of inherent imperfection are visible\ntherein. It is only in the highest creations of artistic genius,\nmanifesting itself either in poetry or some other form of language, and\nthen only in the brightest and happiest moments of inspiration, that we\nmeet with the perfect harmony of a complete and united consciousness, in\nwhich all its faculties work together in combined and living action.\n\nIn language, all the four principal powers have a nearly equal part and\nshare. The grammatical structure, the rules for the changes and\ndeclensions of words, and their syntax, are furnished by the reason.\nFrom the fancy, on the other hand, is derived whatever is figurative;\nand how very far does not this reach, extending as it does into the\nprimary and natural signification of words, which often no longer\nexists, or at least is rarely traceable? Lastly, the clear and distinct\narrangement of the parts, the nicely-finished and beautiful shape of the\nwhole of any composition, whether poetical or rhetorical, civil or\nscientific, are the contributions of the understanding. And so, also,\nwhatever is truly characteristic--whatever, in short, goes beyond the\nmere instinctive cry of animal nature, and the childlike, oft-times\nchildish imitation of external sounds--in short, that deep and spiritual\nsignificance, that characteristic meaning which, in the original\nstem-syllable and radical words of some rich old language, invariably is\nregarded as a beauty, must be ascribed to the understanding, which so\nprofoundly seizes and precisely designates whatever is peculiar, unless,\nperhaps, it is preferred to assign it to an immediate feeling, which\nwonderfully harmonizes with or responds to it. Moreover, the magic force\nof a commanding will, which carries all before it by its intrinsic\nenergy, is at least noticeable in those few brilliant passages of\nhighest inspiration or perfect poetic delineation, from whose clear and\nperspicuous language, the apparently ineffable, shining forth like an\nelectric spark, kindles and influences every sensitive and kindred mind.\n\nBut before I go deeper into the question of the origin of language, and\nexamine the correct idea of this all-embracing and wonderful faculty of\nspeech, as man\u2019s most remarkable and peculiar property, I would call\nyour attention to the intimate connection subsisting between thought and\nspeech, which is throughout reciprocal. For as speech must be regarded\nas a thinking, outwardly projected and manifested, so, too, thinking\nitself is but an inward speaking and a never-ending dialogue with one\u2019s\nself.\n\nJudging, from all appearances, the consciousness of animals, so far as\nwe are justified in ascribing it to them, is perfectly simple, but sadly\ndefective and limited. But even here, however, the several melodious\ncourses of irrational and seemingly unconscious sounds appear like so\nmany echoes of a better foretime--lost traces of ancient memory, and\nwhich, together with the moving and mournful cry of deep, painful\nlonging, seem to make tolerably clear to us the notion of the creature\nwaiting and groaning for its emancipation. Highly simple, too, but in\nquite a different respect, is the consciousness or thought of the free\nspirits in their pure activity, such as we may and ought to represent it\nto ourselves--like the ray of light which in its rapid descent\npenetrates all space. But marvelously intricate, on the other hand, and\nhighly complicated, is the so manifoldly rich, and, at the same time, so\nversatile and changeable consciousness of man. Such, at least, is the\nimpression which a serious and searching glance into the unfathomable\ndepths of our inward man enforces upon us. And, indeed, just as in the\ntriple operation of the consciousness, when restored to the full\nperfection of life, we may trace a certain faint signature of man\u2019s\npristine likeness to the Creator, so also a slight vestige of the same\nkind is, we might fancy, discoverable in its unfathomable depth, which,\nhowever, now reveals itself in quite a different form from its original\nnature, and appears to be converted into its opposite. How often does\nthe thought that seeks to penetrate the mysteries of nature--the hidden\nthinker within man--believe that he has completely solved the riddle of\nexistence, and is able to explain and rightly interpret the many-meaning\nbut obscure words of the sphinx within us! And even then, when he most\nflatters himself with his own ingenuity, this miserable \u0152dipus of his\nown destiny is stricken with even more fatal and incurable blindness\nthan the old Theban, and can not discern the abyss of error into which\nhis whole life has been hurrying, and into which it is at last plunged\nheadlong and precipitated. Ever laboring to seize the changing Proteus\nof its own self, our Ego may, perhaps, often arrive at a rare amazement\nat the enigma of existence, and also is even seized many a time with a\nlight terror. Never, however, by itself, let it think and seek as it\nmay, will it be able, without some other guide, to find the object of\nits longing, and, in its tragic blindness, to discover the clue of the\nlabyrinthic mazes of its own thoughts, and at last to arrive at harmony\nwith itself.\n\nSo profound, moreover, and lasting is this our intrinsic dualism and\nduplicity--(and I use the term here, not in its usual moral sense, but\nin a higher signification, which is purely psychological and\nmetaphysical)--so deeply is this dualism rooted in our consciousness,\nthat even when we are, or at least think ourselves alone, we still think\nas two, and are constrained, as it were, to recognize our inmost\nprofoundest being as essentially dramatic. This colloquy with self, or\ngenerally, this internal dialogue, is so perfectly that natural form of\nhuman thinking, that even the saintly solitaries of bygone centuries,\nwho, in the Egyptian deserts or the Alpine hermitages, devoted a half\nlife to meditation on divine things and mysteries, were often not able\notherwise to indicate the result of such meditations, to invest it in\nanother dress, to bring it into any other form of exposition than that\nof a dialogue of the soul with God. And in all religions, what properly\nis true prayer but a kind of dialogue, a confidential opening of the\nheart to the universal Father, or a filial solicitation of His\nbenevolence?\n\nBut to pass over at once to the directly opposite aspect of the matter:\neven in the classical works of cultivated antiquity, at a time when\nthese depths of a loveful feeling were not yet so widely developed, nor\nso completely revealed and unveiled, we meet with this same phenomenon\nin another form, and one indeed of the highest intellectual clearness\nand brilliancy--in the graceful ornament, viz., of a truly exquisite\ndiction. I am alluding to the characteristic distinction of the\ndiscourses and teaching of Socrates--that peculiar irony, such as it is\nfound in the Platonic dialogues, and of which only a very slight trace\nis to be found in the works of some of the earliest poets. For what else\nis this scientific irony of the inquiring thought and of the highest\ncognition, than a consciousness which, while it clearly perceives the\nsecret contradictions which beset the mind, even in its most earnest\npursuit of the highest aim of life, has attained, nevertheless, to\nperfect harmony with itself.\n\nI must not, however, omit to remind you that this term in modern\nphraseology has fallen very far below its primary meaning, and is often\nso taken as to designate nothing more than a mere playful mockery. In\nits original Socratic sense, however, such as it is found in the whole\nseries of the thought and the internal structure of Plato\u2019s dialogues,\nwhere it is developed to its fullest measure and proportion, irony\nsignifies nothing else than this amazement of the thinking spirit at\nitself, which so often dissolves in a light, gentle laugh. And this\nlight laugh again oftentimes beneath its cheerful surface conceals and\ninvolves a deeper and profounder sense, another and a higher\nsignificance, even the most exalted seriousness. In the thoroughly\ndramatic development and exposition of thought which we meet with in the\nworks of Plato, the dialogical form is essentially predominant. Even if\nall the superscriptions of names and persons, all forms of address and\nreply, and, in short, the whole conversational garb, were taken away\nfrom it, and we were merely to follow the inner threads of the thought\naccording to their connection and course, the whole would, nevertheless,\nremain a dialogue, where each answer calls forth a new question, and the\neddying stream of speech and counter-speech, or, rather, of thought and\ncounter-thought, moves livingly onward. And unquestionably this form of\ninner dialogue is, if not in every case equally applicable and\nabsolutely necessary, still it is all but essential, and at least highly\nnatural and very appropriate to every form of living thought and its\nvivid enunciation. And in this sense even the continuous unbroken speech\nof a single person may also assume the character of a dialogue. Yes, I\nmust confess that as it is my first object to attain to the greatest\npossible perspicuity of a vivid development of ideas, I should then most\nconfidently believe that I had gained my end, if the present Lectures\nshould in any degree make the same impression on you as a dialogue\nwould--if they should appear like a series of questions, to which some\nof you, if not throughout, yet here and there, should in your heart give\na tacit answer and assent--or even (and in this case still more so,\nindeed) if, in the whole context of these Lectures, you should find and\nbelieve to discover for many questions which your own hearts, your own\nreflections and life itself suggested, if not a full, satisfactory\nanswer, yet at least one directly meeting the difficulty, and full of\nsuggestions for its solution.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE III.\n\n\nTrue irony--for there also is a false one--is the irony of love. It\narises out of the feeling of finiteness and one\u2019s own limitation, and\nout of the apparent contradiction between this feeling and the idea of\ninfinity which is involved in all true love. As in actual life and in\nthe love which centers in an earthly object, a good-humored raillery,\nwhich amuses itself with some little defect of character, either\napparent or real, is not inconsistent with sincerity--not, at least,\nwhen both parties have no doubt of each other\u2019s affection, and its ardor\nadmits of no increase--but, on the contrary, lends to it an agreeable\ncharm, even so is this true of that other and highest love. Here, too,\nan apparent, or it may be an actual, but still only insignificant and\ntrivial contradiction, can not destroy the idea on which such a love is\nbased, but, on the contrary, serves rather to confirm and strengthen it.\nBut only there where love has reached the highest purity--has become\nprofoundly confirmed and perfect--does this appearance of contradiction,\nwhich is thrown out in an affectionate irony, fail to alloy or weaken\nall higher and better feeling. And what other foundation could a\nphilosophy of life well have and recognize as legitimate than the idea\nof such a love? And this is even that supposition of life, viz., of the\ninner life, of which I formerly said that it is the only one which\nphilosophy requires, and from which alone it must set out. Only it is\nrequisite that this love should be personally experienced or inwardly\nfelt, and the notion of it derived from immediate experience.\n\nDirectly opposed to those arbitrary systems which compose the reigning\nphilosophy of the day, the philosophy of life is a science of internal\nspiritual experience, which, as it proceeds from, so it every where\nrests on facts; though indeed the facts on which it is grounded, and to\nwhich it has invariably to refer, are in many respects of a high and\npeculiar kind. On this account philosophy may even be called a science\nof divine experience. If man had never, and, in short, were incapable of\nhaving any experience of divine things, what could he know of the Deity\nwith certainty? A knowledge devoid of experience would be but the\narbitrary creation or illusion of his own mind--an inward fancy, or the\nmere reflex of his own reason--consequently an absolute nullity. And for\nsuch a knowledge the task would ever be difficult to get rid of a mere\nidealistic conception of the Divine Being, or at least to repel the\ndoubt whether He be actually any thing more than what such a conception\nrepresents Him. And, in fact, in most treatises and elaborate\ndevelopments of that system of thought which makes man\u2019s self the\nexclusive principle and standard of truth, the manner of treating the\ndivine nature is extremely superficial. Such purely formal and empty\nnotions on this subject are advanced, that we are often justified in\napplying to these speculations on the highest topic of human language\nand thought, the remark that applies too often to lower scientific\ntreatises: \u201cThus it is that men write who have no real knowledge of the\nmatter.\u201d \u201cHere we at once see there is a total want of personal\nobservation; the work is not based on any solid foundation of actual\nexperience.\u201d\n\nNow the philosophy of life, in its highest range at least, is a divine\nscience of experience. This experience, however, is throughout internal\nand spiritual. It is therefore easily conceivable that it can enter\nreadily and easily into all other experimental sciences, and into those\nespecially which more immediately relate to man, as, for instance, most\nof the branches of natural history, and still more into philology, with\nwhich at present we are most immediately concerned. And this it does, in\norder to borrow such illustrations and comparisons as may tend to\nelucidate or further to develop its own subject-matter, or else to\nfurnish applications to individual cases in other departments of life.\nHowever, in thus proceeding, philosophy must take heed lest it overpass\nits own proper limits or forget its true end and aim. It must not go too\ndeeply into particulars, or lose itself among the specialities of the\nother sciences. On the contrary, it ought carefully to confine itself to\nthose points which more immediately concern man, and especially the\ninner man, and, adhering to the meaning and spirit of the whole, seek to\nelucidate and throw out this pre-eminently.\n\nThe question as to the origin of language, or, more correctly, the\nquestion how man attained to the capacity for this wonderful gift or\nfaculty of speech, which forms so considerable and essential a part of\nhis whole nature, if it is to be taken merely as a matter of historical\nresearch and philosophical learning, lies out of the circle which we\nhave marked out to ourselves. A discussion exclusively confined to this\nspecial branch of philology has little in unison with speculations\ninvolving the inner experience of life and psychological observation.\nThere are two opinions pretty generally diffused on this subject: the\none maintaining that there is one primary and original language, from\nwhich, as a stem, all others have branched forth; and the other, that\nseveral were cotemporaneously formed. These opinions, as unfavorably\naffecting the right understanding of the essential connection between\nlanguage or speech and thought, I would wish to keep out of view, and\nconsequently I shall dismiss them with a few passing remarks.\n\nThe one is founded on an erroneous hypothesis, and is itself false. It\nis in open contradiction to facts, as we now know them with tolerable\ncompleteness. As for the other, even if it be not in itself truly and\nproperly false, it is, nevertheless, based on a great misconception, or\nat least, as it is commonly propounded, involves one.\n\nThe former theory consists in this, that language generally, or, rather,\nseveral cotemporary languages, as fundamentally distinct from each other\nas the several races of men, who, as this view asserts, sprung up out of\nthe earth, and its primeval slime, were formed spontaneously by a\nperfectly natural process. To the mere animal cries and various\ninstinctive exclamations, either of joy and grief, of passion and want,\nwere associated the deliberate imitation, together with a childlike\nmimicry of different sounds, similar to what we may even now observe in\nchildren, with whom such mimic intonations and mocking word-play is a\ncommon and favorite amusement. From such sensuous beginnings, it is\npretended, a language might have grown up, gradually and slowly, indeed,\nto the height of rationality and grammatic form and order. That these\ntwo elements--the animal cries of nature and the mechanical imitation of\nsounds--have contributed to the development of language, is a position\nthat needs not and can not be controverted. This element, however, is\nnot found in all languages in equal measure. It is strongest in those\nlanguages which stand at the very lowest grade of development. Among\nothers, again, which having attained very rapidly to maturity, and\nhaving at an early period branched off into several others, appear, in\ntheir most ancient state, highly intellectual and significant, it is\nscarcely traceable. But a fatal objection to the hypothesis as\nexplaining the universal and complete principle of the phenomenon of\nlanguage in all its ramifications, is the fact that the noblest and most\ncultivated languages are found, upon investigation into their earliest\nstate, to possess, even at this date, the most artificial form, and to\nbe manifoldly rich, and at the same time highly regular and simple. And\nthis is pre-eminently the case with the Sanscrit or Indian, in\ncomparison with the Greek, Latin, and other kindred languages of the\nWest and North. In those, on the other hand, which appear to be at the\nvery lowest grade of intellectual culture (and generally these stand\nquite isolated from all those in the midst of which they are found), we\nfrequently observe, on a closer acquaintanceship, a very high and\nelaborate degree of art in their grammatical structure. This is\nespecially the case with the Basque and the Lapponian, and many of the\nAmerican languages. In the Chinese, this excessive and inappropriate\nexpenditure of art has been directed to a very peculiar and complicated\nsystem of writing. There was no place for it in the language itself,\nwhich is extremely poor, being in its basis excessively, not to say\nchildishly, simple, and quite ungrammatical. Its whole verbal treasury\ndoes not, it is said, contain more than three hundred and thirty words,\nwhich form the same number of single syllables. These, however, acquire\na different signification by means of accents, of which there are no\nless than eighty thousand; and even though, as competent judges and the\nlearned aver, not more than the fourth of this large number are really\nnecessary and made use of in practice, still the liability to mistake\nmust be very great, since the entire language is founded on this\nartificial system of writing, much more than on its living and spoken\nsounds. Hence, not unfrequently, when even learned Chinese talk\ntogether, they misunderstand each other. This, indeed, is occasionally\nthe case in other countries also. But the difference is, that in the\nformer the source of misconception lies in the language itself; and it\nis only by writing down their words, that the Chinese can be sure of\nintelligibly conveying their real meaning.\n\nModern and experienced philologists have, in consequence of these\ndifficulties, given up that view of language which would derive it\nentirely from the imitation of animal cries. Plain facts, indeed, speak\ntoo decidedly against it. And, in truth, the chief point to be guarded\nagainst amid the great variety and the immeasurable richness of the\nphenomena of language in general, is the explaining them all by any\nsingle hypothesis, or the deriving them from one origin.\n\nAs to the other opinion respecting the origin of language: the view and\nassertion that God himself brought language to man, and taught it to\nhim, can not properly excite any opposition, in so far as all that is\ngood, and man\u2019s best and original prerogatives, must in reason be\nderived from God as their first author. But when it is supposed that the\nlanguage which on this hypothesis the first man spoke in Paradise, and\nwhich, as such, is the source of all other later and derivative\nlanguages, may still be found, and is to be recognized in any one now\nextant, as, _e.g._, the Hebrew--this assuredly is a great error. It\ninvolves a total misconception of the immense interval which separates\nus from the first origin of the world. Of the language which may have\nbelonged to the first man, before he lost his original power,\nperfections, and dignity, we are not, with our present organs and\nsenses, in a capacity to form an idea. Indeed, we are no more able to do\nthis than to judge of the nature of the language employed by the eternal\nspirits for the immediate interchange of their thoughts, which on the\nwings of light fly instantaneously through the wide expanse of heaven,\nor of those words, ineffable by any created being, which are uttered by\nthe Deity in His inmost being, where, to use the words of the Psalmist,\n\u201cdeep calleth unto deep,\u201d and where the fullness of infinite love\nanswers to Eternal Majesty.\n\nBut now, to descend from this unattainable height to our own level, and\nto consider the first man as he really was: then in the simple statement\nof the first authentic records of mankind, that God taught man language,\nthere is nothing, if we adhere to its obvious meaning, which is in any\nway revolting to man\u2019s natural feelings. For why should it make any such\nstartling impression on us, if, as it ought, this whole matter be\nunderstood somewhat in the light of a mother teaching her child the\nfirst rudiments of language?\n\nStill, together with this simple and childlike signification, it (like\nevery other part of this divine book, thus written on the inside and the\nout) possesses also a far deeper meaning. That name by which each living\ncreature is called by God, and designated from eternity, must embrace\nthe sum of its inmost essence--the key of its existence--the reason and\nthe explanation of its being. As, indeed, generally in the Holy\nScriptures, so here, also, a high and holy import is combined with the\nnotion of the name. Interpreted, then, by this profound sense and\nsignificance, this brief narrative, as I previously pointed out, conveys\nthe idea that by this communication to man by God Himself, of the names\nof all living things, the former was set up as the lord and king of\nnature, and even as God\u2019s vicegerent over the terrestrial creation. And\nindeed this was his original destination.\n\nIf, then, no existing speech or language can afford us an access to this\nveiled original, now become inaccessible to us, still the idea of one\nprimary language, or, perhaps, of several such, is certainly any thing\nbut devoid of an historical foundation. At least it is a very natural\nhypothesis, and founded in some degree on facts, which must not be\nforthwith rejected, but requires to be tested by further inquiry. It is,\nhowever, of no light importance to the maintenance of this hypothesis to\nform a right conception of the difference between derivatory and mixed\nlanguages, and, above all, to take a comprehensive survey of the whole\nof human language, in its nearly boundless wealth, so far as such a\nsurvey is serviceable to our present object of arriving at a true\nknowledge of man. And how can such a profitable application and\napplicability be well doubted? For the genealogical tree of human\nlanguages, in its manifold ramifications--the growth of language\nshooting forth from epoch to epoch, with all the vast riches of art,\ndoes but hold before us, as it were, a written monument and memorial of\nthe thinking consciousness assuming, so to speak, a bodily shape, and\nvisibly presenting itself before us, but still on a grand historical\nstandard, and according to dimensions which reach over the whole\nhabitable globe. That, _therefore_, the history of the thinking\nconsciousness stands in most intimate connection, or at least in very\nclose relation to the science of living thought, is surely a point which\nrequires neither lengthened investigation nor an express demonstration.\n\nIn the attempt at this juxtaposition, I shall only project those points\nwhich either are of importance for the right understanding of the whole,\nor of interest in themselves. For this purpose I shall avail myself of\nnothing but the most certain and clearly demonstrated results of modern\nresearch into the nature and history of language. All that may appear in\nany way uncertain, or would lead us too far into the special branches of\nphilology, will be left unnoticed.\n\nA simile from physical science will perhaps lead us by the quickest and\nshortest road to the object we are in pursuit of. And, indeed, the\ngeological branch of natural history may well be considered cognate to\nthe inquiry before us. For what geology properly investigates is the\nantiquities of this terrestrial planet, and the primal condition of the\nmountain ranges, observing and seeking to read the long-hidden memorials\nthat are daily brought to light of pristine convulsions, and to number\nthe successive epochs of gradual change and decay. But it was not at\nonce that geological science made any progress beyond the mere\nacquaintance with the surface of our globe. An insight into its primary\ninternal constitution and subsequent process of formation was not gained\nuntil observation had enabled us accurately to distinguish between the\ntwo kinds of rocks--the alluvial and the secondary, with their\nfossiliferous strata of chalk and clay--and the primary, unstratified\nrocks of granitic and similar structure, and by patient and accurate\nobservation of the superficial phenomena of the earth in different lands\nand climates to establish this classification as a general law. Now this\ngeological distinction admits of application to language. Those\ncomposite languages which have been formed out of a mixture or\naggregation of several, may be compared to the diluvial rocks which\nbelong to the secondary formation. As the latter have arisen out of or\nhave been formed by floods and inundations, so these mixed languages owe\ntheir origin to the great European migration of nations, or perhaps were\nformed by the East by similar Asiatic migrations, at a still older\nepoch, and in primeval times. Those languages, on the contrary, which,\nat least as compared with those which are manifestly mere derivatives\nfrom them, we may call primary. In this class we may mention the Roman\namong those of Europe, and the Sanscrit in those of Asia. These, then,\nstand on the same line and dignity with the so-called primary rocks. No\ndoubt, even in these further investigation will discover many traces of\na mixture, no less palpable indeed, but one, however, in which the\nconstituents neither were originally so heterogeneous, nor since have\ncontinued so totally unchanged. For in the same manner, granitic rocks,\nand others of the primary order, are also found to be composite in their\nmineral constituents. These likewise point to a still earlier convulsion\nof nature, to which they owed their first production. Unquestionably,\nhowever, the primary mountains form the first line and earliest\nformation among the several epochs of revolution which the present earth\nhas undergone. But it would be an error were we from this simple fact at\nonce to draw any inference as to the interior of our globe; for this\ngeological and mineralogical distinction of the two classes of rocks can\nnot be proved to hold good beyond the mere surface and coat of the\nearth. To this alone is man\u2019s observation and experience confined.\n\nIt is impossible to penetrate very far into the interior or the central\nmass of our planet, and investigate its internal constitution, and\nconsequently this ring of rock can not be regarded in any other light\nthan as analogical to the thin covering and epidermis of the organic\nliving creature. And just so is it with the science of language. There\nare undoubtedly languages which, in a certain sense, we may term\nprimary. Only in so doing, we must not think that in any one of them we\nhave discovered and possess the long-hidden original of all existent\nlanguages. If, for instance, from this correct geological classification\nof rock, any bold speculator should go on to assert that the whole\ninterior of the earth, or at least the center of it, is a mass of\ngranitic or other primary rock, we feel at once that this would be a\nbaseless hypothesis. And it would be as grave an error, in the domain of\nphilology, were we to go on and draw a similar conclusion. The Sanscrit,\nfor instance, holds unquestionably the foremost rank, as the oldest\namong those which belong to the same family, and, as compared with\nthese, may undoubtedly, in a precise but limited sense, be regarded as a\nprimary language; but it would be an idle assumption were we therefore\nto consider it in the same light that Hebrew was formerly, and to look\nupon it as the universal original, the first source and mother of all\nother languages on the surface of the earth.\n\nBut not even the historical prerogative of a high antiquity--no, nor\neven the merit of having preserved a primary form in greatest purity,\nhowever valuable a quality, is the sole standard of excellence in a\nlanguage, nor that which alone determines its perfection. The English\nlanguage affords a ready illustration of our remark. To it, beyond all\nothers, the designation of being a mixed language applies; indeed it\ncorresponds altogether to this character. It furnishes at the same time\na striking proof of the height of excellence which even a mixed language\nis capable of attaining; meeting as it does, all the requisitions of a\nsolemn and nervous poetry, the earnest appeals of eloquence, and the\ncalm flow of descriptive prose. And yet, on analysis, it presents to the\ngrammatical eye the somewhat heterogeneous compound of two wholly\ndifferent elements, whose originally chaotic mixture has been reduced\ninto a rare and happy proportion. For into its original High-Dutch, or\nAnglo-Saxon basis, many words have been introduced from the Latin or\nNorman-French, which among the living roots of the former appear so far\naliens and foreigners, as, being little capable of grammatical\ndeclension or derivation, they do not, like the others, form so many\nfruitful verbal stems, from which new forms and compounds shoot forth.\nOf Asiatic languages the Persian is in this respect of a similar\nconstitution to the English. Here also the essential foundation and\nliving root of the whole is some peculiar and old national language,\nclosely akin to the Sanscrit and Gothic-German; but its Arabian\nadmixture is as great in degree as the Latin-French of the English, and\nindeed both were brought in by a similar political revolution. Still the\nPersian is generally, and with good cause, praised as a noble language,\nabounding in lively poetical ornament, and moreover, like the French in\nEurope is adopted throughout Asia as the general language, of business\nand conversation. Those derivatory languages also which stand next in\norder to the mixed, and in part also belong to them, and which have\nrather softened down than abolished the stricter grammatical forms,\nhaving rounded them off as it were for greater convenience of use, do\nnot necessarily stand inferior to the mother-tongue in grace and vigor\nof composition. On the contrary, in respect of style, they are often\nvastly superior to them. Thus the Italian appears softer and more\nflexible for lyrical verse, and perhaps for every creation of the poetic\nfancy, sweeter and more graceful than its Roman mother-tongue. The\nFrench, too, at least as the language of society, moves with an\nunequalled freedom, while, for precision and distinctness of expression,\nits prose has attained to an unparalleled height of excellence. The\nSpanish also, besides being praised for the excellence of its prose, as\nadmirably suited either for the dignity of serious narrative or the\ningenious play of wit, is in poetry distinguished above most of its\nsister dialects by a wonderful richness and peculiar grace in the\nplayful sallies of the fancy. And yet it is a derivative language, and\ncompounded of the most heterogeneous elements. For not only it is highly\nprobable that the Gothic-German admixture is even greater in this than\nin any other of the romance dialects which sprung up out of the Latin,\nbut the Arabic also forms a very considerable element in it.\n\nBut it was not to descend into the grammatical specialities of\nphilological erudition, or to heap up a mass of purely \u00e6sthetical\nremarks, that I have alluded to these pregnant instances. What I chiefly\nhad in view was to remove, if possible, all erroneous notions from the\nconception of the primal language. It was, in short, my object to bring\nbefore your minds its origin and growth, according to that continuous\nprocess which may even still be seen going on in any spoken language.\nAnd although in our own neighborhood it is only in a few partial\ninstances, and these far from definite, that we can trace this living\nprocess, still they are not on this account to be neglected, since they\nfurnish much instruction, and are calculated to throw much light upon\nthe whole matter.\n\nNow, as regards the historical origin, not only of language in general,\nbut also of its several extant dialects, and especially those which\nrelatively to such as are derived and compounded out of them may pass as\nprimary, there is one essential point toward a right understanding of\nthe matter. We must not attempt to account for their origination and\ndevelopment merely by a mixture and derivation from many individual\nparts, but rather endeavor to set them before our minds as productions\nsimilar in nature to that of a poem or any other piece of art. For the\nlatter are severally the result of a conception which, from the very\nfirst, was a whole--they never could have been produced by any\nsuccessive agglomeration of atomistic parts. In this view of language we\nmust, in thought, place ourselves at a very different epoch of mind from\nthe present. Now we can not well hesitate to allow that, in the primal\nperiod of the human race, and of nations individually, the productive\nfancy would manifest itself in the creation of words with far more of\ninventive genius and fertility than would be likely to be displayed at\na subsequent period of mental culture, when the analytical reason had,\nstep by step, succeeded in gaining the preponderance.\n\nCommonly, indeed, men speak strangely enough of the origin of languages.\nThey talk of the matter somewhat in the same fashion as it would be to\nsay of a picture, that it had its origin in ochre, lake, ceruse,\nasphalt, and such like coloring substances, together with the addition\nof oil, which holds here somewhat the same place that in language the\nreason does with its grammatical arrangement and logical combinations.\nOf these motley materials, it might be said, one little particle after\nanother is laid on the canvas, till, gradually, long streaks appear,\nwhich again swell gradually into fuller and deeper outline, until, at\nlast, a complete form and figure stands forth, to which, at last, there\naccrues an expressive physiognomy. And so, at last, the picture is\nfinished. But in all this description it seems totally forgotten, that\nunless the ideal conception--the picture as a whole--had, from the very\nfirst, been present to the mind of the painter, it would never have\nattained to such a realization, thus growing up, step by step, under the\nhand of the artist. At least, without this it would not be a true\nartistic work of genius, since this is, in every instance, the result of\nsome foregoing conception of a whole.\n\nNot piecemeal, therefore, and fragmentarily, did language arise. It came\nforth, rather, at once, and in its totality, out of the full inner and\nliving consciousness of man. We shall have no difficulty in thus\nconsidering it, if only we can succeed in ideally transplanting\nourselves to that foretime when the thinking faculty was more creative,\nand when, in the designation and expression of its ideas, it moved more\nfreely and with the elasticity of genius. But if speech answers to\nthought, and if language itself is but a true copy, a shifting diorama,\nas it were, of man\u2019s inward self, then (to make use of that oldest\nrecord of the human race, which, as it is better and more natural than\nall others, so it also furnishes the best clew for unraveling the\nriddles of olden tradition), we might well ask whether the language of\nCain, the accursed vagabond wandering over the face of the earth, could\nhave been the same as that of the pious patriarchs and saints of the\nprimeval world, some of whom, under other names, but in equal honor,\nare found mentioned in the traditions of the ancient Persians, and the\nsacred books of the Hindoos and other Asiatic nations? Or could it well\nhave been the same with that of Noah, the second progenitor and the\nrestorer of the human race, whom, likewise, the earliest traditionary\nrecords of every people recognize and mention. The family of the\nCainites holds no inconsiderable place in the earliest history of\ncivilization, and the first working of metals, and the invention of\nseveral useful arts, is expressly ascribed to them. But still their\ndifference in language from the other families of the antediluvian\nworld, and generally in their whole civil constitution, must have been\nvery great and palpably noticeable. And this favors the hypothesis,\nwhich, in itself, is any thing but impossible, and deserves rather to be\ncalled highly probable, of several primary languages, or, at least, of\ndifferent epochs in the primeval speech of the earliest foretime, which,\nmoreover, serve to indicate so many natural sections in the progression\nwhich the mental development of the aboriginal family of man observed,\nand the shapes which its mode of thinking successively assumed.\n\nNow, if I may venture to suggest the course in which some such\nprogression may, in idea at least, be projected and traced in the entire\nsystem of the vast multitudes of languages which exist on the face of\nthe earth, I would set out with the Sanscrit. For this is the best known\nand understood of the whole Hindoo family, among which it holds the\nforemost rank as the oldest and most complete. To the same class would\nbelong first of all the old Persian, the Gothic-German, and the\nScandinavian, all of which are most intimately related to the former;\nthen the Greek, and the Latin with its many derivatives; and lastly,\naccording to the opinion of competent judges, nearly the whole of the\nSlavonic dialects. All these languages, each in its measure, and in\nproportion to the cultivation it had enjoyed, are marked, especially in\ntheir earliest stages, by a very artificial structure and a beautiful\ngrammatical arrangement, but pre-eminently by a highly noble poetic\nshape, combined with an equal degree of scientific precision. This,\nhowever, is but one family among many others which make up the whole\nsystem. The latter, however, stand at a far lower grade of development\nand perfection. Among those which, like the Tartaric-Chinese and the\nAfrican, belong to the latter class, the highly remarkable dialects of\nAmerica occupy an important and characteristic place. The traveler[64]\nbest acquainted with the American races and dialects has described the\nformer as singularly remarkable for the degradation to which their\nmental faculties have fallen below the original standard, while he\nspeaks of the latter as resembling the relics of some great ruin or\nmighty devastation. On this expression of the famous traveler, which\nagrees so accurately with the idea I am here developing, and with the\nresult of my own investigation into the course of the human mind since\nthe old and primal times, I am disposed to lay very great stress. For\nwith him it was the conviction impressed upon his mind by personal\nobservation alone, unbiassed by any preconceived opinion or hypothesis\nfavorable to my views. This character of deep degradation belongs,\nperhaps, to the better class of languages, since they present but little\nanalogy to each other in their material elements, and admit scarcely of\nany classification. At least it forms a distinctive mark of them, and\nawakens a melancholy impression.\n\nThe Egyptian, which, since the partial deciphering of its hieroglyphics,\nis no longer totally inaccessible, belongs, I think, to this second\nclass. In it, however, it holds a very important place, and is eminently\ndistinguished. For its hieroglyphical mode of writing, by combining the\nalphabetical with the symbolical mode of indication, gave it,\nconsequently, great liberty of choice among the different phonetic\nfigures which might stand for the same alphabetic character, so that the\nphonetic word was, as it were, invested with a symbolical garb, and all\nalike assumed an hieroglyphical tone. Some of the Greeks regarded the\nhieroglyphical as the oldest of all human languages; and, indeed, that\nsomber melancholy which seems to reign in all the monuments of ancient\nEgypt, might well be regarded as a silent witness to the great event of\nthe ruin of a primeval world.\n\nIn order to complete our subject, the Hebrew still remains for a general\nnotice in that brief review which alone our limits admit of. We must,\nhowever, give such a characteristic view of it as will enable us\ncorrectly to determine the place which it is to assume among the rest.\nApparently, it stands isolated by itself, belonging altogether to\nneither of the two classes we have described. It seems to favor the\nconjecture, that a new and peculiar class is necessary to embrace all\nthe phenomena in this first and oldest epoch of language. This, then,\nwith the two already considered, will form three classes. In its radical\nwords, the Hebrew exhibits only a slight relationship to the\nIndo-European family. This, however, on further examination, will\nprobably be found to be still more considerable. For it is often\nimpossible to recognize it at once beneath a totally different\ngrammatical form and structure, and it is, moreover, withdrawn from\nimmediate notice by the difference of its predominant mental tendency.\nWe know, however, as an historical fact, that the Ph\u0153nician, which\ndiffered from the Hebrew only as one dialect from another, was not\nwithout some connection with the Greek, on which it exercised no\ninconsiderable influence. Now, with respect to the peculiar character of\nthe Hebrew, every thing in it is directed to the attainment of the\nhighest vividness and profound significance. This is even the case with\nits grammatical principle, which makes all its other terms, whether\nnames of objects or qualities, subordinate to the verb. The triplicity,\nalso, of the roots, which, with very few exceptions, consist of three\nletters--which again, for the most part, constitute as many\nsyllables--was, assuredly, not without a significant design, and\npossessed, collaterally, a certain mystic allusion. In its profound\nsignificancy and compressed brevity--in its figurative boldness and\nprophetical inspiration, far more than in any chronological precedence\nof antiquity, consists the peculiar character and high prerogative of\nthe Hebrew. On the other hand, it is somewhat inferior to many others,\nas, for example, the Greek, in poetical forms and shape, in richness and\nvariety of development, and in precision of scientific diction. In its\nessential character, the Hebrew language is prophetical, like the people\nitself, even in the present evil days of their dispersion--the people in\nwhom the living word of the twofold ancient prophecy, now that the Jews\nhave handed it over to the Gentiles, has first attained its perfect\naccomplishment.\n\nThe whole system of the languages of man is but the external and visible\ncopy and true mirror of his inmost consciousness. The different epochs\nof their ancient production are but so many terms in the progression\nobserved by the human mind in its development. Consequently, language in\ngeneral, as the clew of memory, and tradition, which binds together all\nnations in their chronological series and succession, is, as it were,\nthe common memory and organ of recollection for the whole human race. It\nis only in this relation, which is certainly important, and also\nessential to the problem before us, that I have thought it allowable to\nenter upon this episode. Many of the particulars may perhaps have been\nunattractive enough. Still I trust that the general result, as throwing\nlight upon the origin, or, rather, the historical rise and oldest\ndevelopment of language, has proved universally interesting, even though\nat most it has but suggested matter for future meditation.\n\nThis result may be expressed or briefly comprised in the following\nwords: on our side of that obscure interval or great chasm which\nseparates us from the hidden and inaccessible history of the first\nformation of language, the first grade in its growth is indicated by a\ndeep state of decline and a melancholy sense of the fact. And yet even\nfrom this state a highly significant art is not altogether excluded,\nsince we see it expressing itself in the beautiful symbols of the\nfigurative language of Egypt. The second step in the further development\nof human speech is formed by the lofty flight which the poetic spirit\ntook in the ancient languages, which greatly excel all others in beauty\nof form and perfection of structure, in richness of poetical ornament,\nand perspicuity of scientific precision. Some of the oldest fragments in\nthose languages are also marked with a peculiarly beautiful tone of\nsarcerdotal solemnity, as is the case with many a relic from the\nearliest period of the Latin.\n\nBut the fuller and higher initiation in divine lore, and a bold,\nreligious enthusiasm, form another and a peculiar grade in the\nhistorical development of language; and this was the third step that it\ntook in this earliest and primeval time. And, as a proof that the\ncharacteristic just alluded to is not derived solely from the spirit and\ntone of the holy writings of the Hebrews, and that I have not, without\nfurther corroboration, transferred it at once to language in general, I\nwill add one more remark, tending to show that in some degree it has its\nfoundation in the very nature and grammatical structure of human speech\nitself. In the Arabic, which in many other respects is closely akin to\nthe Hebrew, many of these characteristic properties may likewise be\ntraced, even though the Arabians at a very early date, turning aside\nfrom the simple faith of the old patriarchs, gave themselves up to the\nsuperstitions of magic and astrology, and, since the times of Mohammed,\nhave been animated with an inextinguishable and fanatical hatred of a\nprofounder truth of godliness and the religion of love.\n\nI called language in general--as being the store-house of tradition,\nwhere it lives on from nation to nation, and as being the clew of\nmaterial and spiritual connection which joins century to century--the\ncommon memory of the human race. Now, it is this faculty of memory which\nI would here seek to give a more precise characteristic of. For the\npresent seems its appropriate place in our series of psychological\ninquiries, according to the relative position which it holds in the\ngeneral system of the mental faculties. Before entering upon this topic,\nhowever, the position that language must not be thought of as being in\nthe first instance produced piecemeal by the concretion of several\natomistic and unconnected parts, but as molded in one cast, and in its\ntotality, similarly to a poetical or other creation of art, requires\nproof and corroboration. For this purpose, then, I would bring to your\nremembrance a fact or phenomenon which is closely connected with the\ninvestigation into the nature of memory, though it involves a marvelous\nleap of the memory, or at least of its usual method of operation: I am\nalluding to what, by an old phrase, is called the gift of languages--or\nthat natural gift by which certain individuals seem enabled to enter all\nat once into the spirit and structure of foreign languages, and that not\nmerely in the case of very simple ones, but even the highly-cultivated\nand artificial languages of modern Europe.\n\nThis phenomenon of the soul transporting itself, or, as it were,\ntransported all at once into a language previously quite strange to it,\nso as to understand any spoken or written composition in it, is\ncertainly not one of ordinary occurrence; and, in truth, whenever it\nmanifests itself strongly and decidedly, it closely borders on the\nmarvelous. Still it is a fact sufficiently well known, and neither\nunheard of nor rare. On the other hand, the higher and active case of\nthe same phenomenon, which is marked, not merely by the understanding\nbut also by the speaking of a language never before learned, and which\nwas meant by the gift of tongues in the old sense, is certainly a really\nmiraculous fact. But even this is acknowledged and believed, and there\nis no sufficient reason for calling in question the ancient witnesses\nto the fact, merely on account of the nature of it.\n\nI called this fact a wonderful leap of the memory. For however\nsubordinate this faculty may in other respects appear relatively to\nthose which every where make prominent claim to the spontaneous burst of\ngenius, still, even in the case of memory, its first spring and origin\nis often veiled and inexplicable, and it presents many points of view\nleading to profoundest questioning, and suggesting grave investigation.\n\nIn our psychological survey of the whole human mind, we set out with its\nfour leading faculties, as arranged under the two contrarieties of\nunderstanding and will, of reason and fancy. Besides these four leading\nfaculties, there are several, perhaps, just as many others, derived\nindeed from the former, but still not so much subordinate to them (for\nin another relation they appear equally important and not less essential\nthan them) as rather co-ordinate with them and having a peculiar\nfunction assigned to them. Of these I have in my former Lectures\nanalyzed and described the conscience as the moral instinct for right\nand wrong, when I named it the reason applied to the will, or, rather,\nas I preferred to consider it, as a peculiar and independent faculty,\nintermediate between reason and will, and being an immediate feeling and\njudgment as to what is good and evil in human desires and actions. Now,\njust as conscience is a mean between reason and will, so is memory\nintermediate between reason and understanding. With both of them it is\nclosely connected. Memory, on the one hand, is the treasure-house of the\nunderstanding; indeed, it is the understanding hitherto acquired and\nworked out, now laid and stored up. On the other hand, as the clew and\nthread of recollection, memory furnishes that ground and principle of\nassociation in the consciousness, on which reason itself and its\nexercise is dependent. So entirely is this the case, that the partial or\ntotal loss of memory, from sickness or old age, though producing no\nderangement of the reason, is, nevertheless, followed by a partial\ndecline and slowness of rational thought, which occasionally amounts to\na general deadening and extinction of the rational faculty. The close\nconnection between memory and understanding is especially visible in\nchildren, in whom the first faint opening of intellect is generally\nsimultaneous with the first apperception of self and retention of\nexternal impressions or signs. The understanding is that thinking and\ncognition of individuals, which is even the act of intellection.\nConsequently, the individual mark and characteristic sign in the\nfunction of memory belongs to the understanding; but the combining link\nbetween these individual conceptions or signs--their permanent\nassociation--is the reason\u2019s share in memory; for the latter is the\nknowing and consciousness which, in the coherent whole of associated and\nillative thought, is conversant about general notions.\n\nAnd here arises a question similar to that which we started in our\ninvestigation of language. Must we assume, at the first awakening and\nhidden spring of memory, a divine impulse, so to speak, or a higher\nfoundation for it from before the beginning of this terrestrial\nexistence? Or, indeed, since on this subject many theories have been\nstarted of old, and are ever springing up, to retain a place among the\nworld\u2019s floating opinions, what are we to think of these views tested by\nthat knowledge of our inmost consciousness which the observation of life\nfurnishes? How far do our feelings and reflections justify or limit\nthem? Among these opinions is the hypothesis revived by Leibnitz, of\ninnate ideas, or, rather, according to the most recent exposition of it,\nof certain forms of thought essential to the reason, existing,\nantecedently to experience, in its fundamental scheme, and, as it were,\nengraven in it. Now all such opinions, whatever variations they may\npresent, arise, without exception, from the Platonic notion of the\n_anamnesis_ possessed by the soul from a previous existence, and,\nmoreover, they agree with the dogma of the metempsychosis, which, Indian\nin its origin, is, however, widely diffused among other nations also.\n\nA real and actual pre-existence, however, of the human soul, as it does\nnot admit of any historical proof, so is it not easily reconcilable with\nour own feelings, nor with our general sentiments on the relation we\nstand in to God, and the divine economy in the government of the world.\nAnd as for the ancient belief in the migration of souls, it can not,\nhowever remarkable for its wide diffusion, be regarded in any other\nlight than an arbitrary creation of fancy and a kind of mythology of the\nsoul. Moreover, with regard to the theory of essential forms of thought\nimpressed on the reason antecedently to all experience and prior to the\nfirst awakening of consciousness, it is based on a view of the reason\nwhich would make it a universal receptacle of the thought, divided into\ngreater and less chambers and compartments. It is thus made the residuum\nor dead precipitate of the natural functions of the living cogitation,\nand of the law of life which rules therein, which, thus arranged in rank\nand row, are placed before us, like the dried specimens of an herbarium,\nor like the butterflies pinned to the entomologist\u2019s case, from each of\nwhich, however, amid the mechanical arrangement, the true, delicate,\nlight-winged Psyche has long since flown away. And since in philosophy\nour first object must be to seize, if possible, the living thought in\nits very life, and to give to it also a living expression, or at least\nto paint it after the life, it is not easy to see to what end this so\ncircumstantial procedure is to lead. The whole hypothesis, in short,\nseems useless and superfluous. As to the principle or hypothesis of\ninnate ideas, which in truth requires to be kept perfectly distinct from\nthe one previously considered, it is quite conceivable that it may be a\nright method for the artist, who is ever in pursuit of the ideal, and in\nsome cases also for the thinker, to present to his mind the object of\nhis conception, and which he is seeking ideally to manifest, such as\nwith a similar end it would appear before and be contemplated by the\ndivine mind. At any rate, such a mode of thought would greatly\nfacilitate the execution of his ideal conception. But if what is meant\nby this theory is an antecedent intellectual intuition of the pure ideas\nin the divine mind, then we are brought again to the difficult and\ndebatable hypothesis of an actual pre-existence. Moreover, when we go\ninto details, and attempt to apply this theory to particular instances,\nwe are at once involved in the greatest perplexity. For what, even in\nthe department of art, are we to understand by the inborn idea of a\nnoble, wide-spreading tree, of a beautiful flower, a grand and\nwell-proportioned architectural edifice, or other monument? or a\nvigorous animal, or noble human form? and what meaning, in the domain of\npractical life, would it convey, to talk of the innate idea of a\nskillful general, or of a wise financier? We can not, indeed, imagine to\nwhat good end this hypothesis can serve or lead, and, consequently, as\nsoon as it is taken for any thing more than a mere figure of thought, it\ninvolves us in new, if it does not entangle as again in the old,\ninextricable difficulties.\n\nThe question, however, admits of a more general sense. Without\nsupposing that there is, inborn in the human soul, a whole system of\nnotions and forms of thought--a whole world, in short, of all possible\nideas--may there not have been imparted to it from above a higher gift,\nwhich, naturally, is only called into action simultaneously with the\nawakening of the rest of the human mind, or of the mind generally? If\nso, would it not appear to the soul in the form of a memory; and, in a\ncertain sense, be really such, though, indeed, not so much a memory of\nthe part as of eternity? This is a question which, advanced in this\nsense, can not, I think, be absolutely negatived; not that any essential\nnecessity or actual ground exists for it; but that, carefully guarded by\ncertain limitations, it is an hypothesis that may, without hesitation,\nbe assumed or conceded. Can it, in truth, well be doubted that every\nspiritual being, created by infinite love, has had imparted to him a\nshare in the source of eternal love, which is to remain his forever, or\nso long, at least, as the connection with the supreme source of his\nbeing is not violently broken and rent asunder? If, then, such a portion\nis to remain forever the property of every created spiritual being, it\nmust assume a definite place in his consciousness, and, in the\ndevelopment of the latter, manifest itself in its due place. As regards,\nindeed, the human soul, this supposition can, with less justice, be\ndenied, the more universally and pre-eminently the prerogative of a high\ndegree of resemblance to the divine image is ascribed to it.\n\nNow, this participation in God, as the primary source of eternal love,\nwhich abides forever in the human soul, and which becomes extinct in one\nextreme case alone--this divine endowment of the human consciousness\nfrom above--can only be thought of and described as the recollection of\neternal love; and this, moreover, is the only innate idea in the human\nmind which it is possible or allowable to assume.\n\nThe thought of an original recollection in man--which, properly, is not\nof a mere foretime, but of eternity, but which, in all propriety, still\nadmits of being termed a recollection--has brought us to the notion of\ntime and eternity, and to the question of their reciprocal relation--of\nwhich the true and correct view is probably very different from that\nwhich commonly prevails. But this is a topic which, for its further and\ncomplete elucidation, demands a special investigation.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE IV.\n\n\nThe idea of a pre-existence of the soul in an earlier and different\nstate of being from the present, is a delusion and groundless\nhypothesis, arbitrarily tacked on to Plato\u2019s doctrine of the anamnesis\nor of innate ideas. As such, it is calculated to involve us in\ninnumerable difficulties. I have, however, endeavored to show that the\ndoctrine itself is distinct, and can be kept separate, from this\narbitrary admixture. Stripped of all extraneous additions, the essential\nparts of this Platonic doctrine of a higher memory have always possessed\na powerful attraction for many deep thinkers and noble minds. From its\nfirst authors down to Leibnitz, it has made a deep and lasting\nimpression, which has ever enabled it from time to time to recover its\nascendency. In its purer sense and more simple and legitimate view, we\nmay, I asserted, understand by it no completely lifeless and mechanical\nsystem of all the possible ideas which reason may evolve in the human\nmind, antecedently arranged and classified, but an idea of his divine\norigin innate or implanted in his mind, which can not be otherwise or\nmore simply indicated than by the expression we have chosen to designate\nit--of a recollection of eternal love. But this recollection, I\naffirmed, is not so much the remembrance merely of some special past,\nwhich would again lead us to an actual pre-existence of the human soul,\nas a remembrance of eternity; and it is in this light that the whole\nidea must be regarded, if it is to be allowed any force. Now, this gives\nrise to and calls for a closer investigation into the mutual relation\nand whole conception of time and eternity.\n\nThis faculty of remembrance is of an entirely different kind from the\nordinary exercise and function of memory. This state, this quality or\npower of the soul, or whatever else it may be called, might be\nappropriately termed a transcendental memory, if it were not out of\nseason, or if any advantage would be gained by renewing the already\nhalf-forgotten and involved terminology of the philosophic schools of\nthe last generation. Yet this would but be a change of name for the\nself-same idea and object, which at best could only serve to exhibit\nmore distinctly and clearly, and from many points of view, whatever is\npeculiar in the nature of such an unusual idea, or its new and unusual\nsense, as well as the proper and difficult focus of inquiries and\ninvestigations of this nature. But the point upon which depends the\ndecision of the whole matter, or, rather, from which alone its right\nexplanation can and must proceed, is, as already stated, the mutual\nrelation between time and eternity, and a just conception of both.\n\nUsually, or at least oftentimes, eternity is explained and understood as\nbeing the entire cessation, the perfect nonexistence and unconditional\nnegation of all time. But this would involve at the same time the\nnegation of life and all living existence (+),[65] so that nothing would\nremain but an absolute negative, which is a void entity and perfect\nnullity.\n\nIn place of the endless contradictions to which all negation generally,\nand especially the absolute negation of time, can not but lead--in place\nof that to which the English poet\u2019s phrase of \u201cdarkness visible\u201d is\napplicable, I would offer a description of the idea of eternity, which\nmay, perhaps, render it less incomprehensible. Eternity, as I should\ndefine it, is the all-embracing, completely complete time, which is\ninfinite, not only \u201c_a parte extern\u00e2_,\u201d _i.e._, ever-passing, yet\neverlasting, without beginning and without end, but also infinite \u201c_a\nparte intern\u00e2_;\u201d so that in the endlessly living, thoroughly luminous\npresent, and in the blissful consciousness thereof, the whole past, and\nalso the whole future, are equally actual, equally clear, and equally\npresent to us as the very present itself. For can we form any other\nconception of a state of bliss? Nay, is not this idea of the fullness of\ntime entirely one and the same, and exactly coincident with that state\nwhich at least we are able to think of, and indeed can not well avoid\nthinking of? and is not this also the only form of existence applicable\nto the divine consciousness, on the assumption and belief not of any\nmere divine essence, but of an actual living and self-conscious Godhead?\nThat, at least, the idea of time is not absolutely excluded from the\nlife and essence or the operations of the living God of revelation,\nthere exists in the latter abundant indication, testimony, and proof.\nAlmost all the expressions there chosen for this matter allude to that\nfull and divine time, in which yesterday and to-morrow are as to-day,\nand \u201ca thousand years as one day,\u201d and many others which convey the same\nidea, but in no ways apply to the false notion of eternity which makes\nit the absolute negation of all time. The very Hebrew name of God\nfurnishes a confirmation of this assertion. And I may here indulge\nmyself with producing it, since we shall be able to accomplish this\nobject without entering into an analysis of the language itself, and its\nsense can be made perfectly clear according to the sense of our own\nlanguage, without any circumlocution or periphrase.\n\nIn the sacred volume of the Old Testament, two names are used to\ndesignate the Supreme Being. The one is perfectly general, and signifies\nthe idea of God or the Deity absolutely, being also applied to the gods\nof the heathen, and occasionally employed simply to signify angels and\nspirits. The other, however, is exclusively given to the true and living\nGod of revelation. This word is derived from a Hebrew root, which\nsignifies \u201cto be,\u201d or, rather, since we can hardly expect to find in\nthese ancient languages, and in the primary significations of the\nradical words, the idea of a simple abstract existence, it means life, a\npositive living existence. In one place this name, which is made up of\nfour letters, is explained and interpreted as signifying \u201cI am that I\nam,\u201d or, more accurately, \u201cI am that I shall be.\u201d Now, this is as much\nas to say, the true and living God of revelation, He who from the\nbeginning has manifested forth His glory in creation, and who ever since\nis continually manifesting Himself, internally, at least, to the whole\nhuman race and to each individual, though, in truth, often unattended to\nand little regarded, and who will still more gloriously reveal Himself\nin the end of time, that is, of this earthly duration and period of\nchange, or, as it is expressed in Sacred Writ, in the fullness of time,\nor when time itself shall be accomplished.\n\nNow, here it is evident the idea of time is not absolutely excluded from\na conception of the essence and operations of God. On the contrary, this\ndescription involves the idea of full and complete time, which lasts\nfrom eternity to eternity, and to the height of which, when the hour\nshall have come, that is to say, at the final consummation, this our\nearthly time, in whose fetters this our world of sense is now held,\nshall be raised and glorified.\n\nThe question, therefore, is properly to determine whether there exists\nsuch an absolute opposition between time and eternity that it is\nimpossible for them to subsist in any mutual contact or relation, but\nthe one necessarily leads to the negation of the other, or whether, at\nleast, there is not some conceivable transition from the one to the\nother. Now, in the former view, since the absolute, universally, and\nmost especially thinking as well as absolute willing, forms the\ndestructive principle in life, there lies, perhaps, the first source,\nnot only of false systems, but also of the metaphysical prejudices which\nman\u2019s intellect nourishes, and especially of all the deeply-rooted,\ninborn, or hereditary errors of the reason. On the other hand, according\nto the theory on which our present speculations are based, both time and\neternity are not incompatible with or in hostile and irreconcilable\nopposition to each other. Their ideas do not mutually destroy each\nother. Certain definite connecting-links and points of contact and\ntransition exist between them. The contrariety is not an\nincomprehensibly absolute one of eternal negation, but rather a living\none, similar to the distinction between life and death, or that between\nevil and good. So long as we believe in a great and irreconcilable\ncontrariety between time and eternity, such as at the first delusive\naspect they present themselves, we can not hope to extricate ourselves\nfrom the labyrinth in which external things and our own internal\nreflections involve the mind. This can only be effected by the idea of a\ntwofold time, such as it is our purpose accurately to define and bring\nbefore you. And this notion of a twofold time arises from the difference\nbetween the one perfect and blissful time, which is naught else than the\ninner pulse of life in an overflowing eternity, without beginning and\nwithout end, and that other time which is prisoned and fettered in this\nlower world of sense, where the stern present alone is prominent, and\nlords it over all else with despotic sway--the past being lost in\ndarkness and sunk in the night of death; while the future, now\nadvancing, now receding, hovers like a shadow, in an obscure,\nglimmering, and deceptive twilight, until the now brilliant present\npasses away, and in its turn becomes as nothing, being buried in the\ndarkness of death, which shrouds all past and former existence. And as\nthere is a twofold time, so also may we, in relation to God and the\nworld, distinguish a twofold eternity. Let us, for this purpose,\ncontemplate the whole creation, including not only this visible world\nof sense, but also the invisible world of spirits, either in its\noriginal perfection, which it possessed when it issued unsullied from\nthe hand of the Creator, or even in that state of perfection, which,\nglorified and perfected, and become imperishable, it is to enjoy when\nthe course of earthly time shall have run out, and when there shall be\nno more death.\n\nNow, relatively to either its original perfection or that to which it is\nfinally to be restored, we can not better designate the universe than by\nterming it the created, while God is the uncreated eternity. The world,\nhowever, according to what we know of it from revelation, is not\nabsolutely such. It is eternal only from one point of view, that,\nnamely, which looks forward to its everlasting, continuous, and blessed\nduration, and not from that of its first origin. For the world (if it\nwas, as we are taught, created out of nothing) had a beginning--a\nprecise beginning--which took place in time. And this fact, again,\nsuggests and confirms the remark how the idea of time, which is\nunquestionably involved in that of the beginning of the universe, is not\nabsolutely excluded from the essence and operations of the Godhead, at\nleast of the living and personal God of revelation. On this point,\nhowever, I would wish to say no more than this: here is the decisive\npoint--two distinct, opposite, or diverging paths lie before us, and man\nmust choose between them. The clear-seeing spirit, which, in its\nsentiments, thoughts, and views of life, would be in accordance with\nitself, and would act consistently to them, must in any case take one or\nthe other. Either there is a living God, full of love, even such a one\nas love seeks and yearns after, to whom faith clings, and in whom all\nour hopes are centered (and such is the personal God of revelation), and\non this hypothesis the world is not God, but is distinct from him,\nhaving had a beginning, and being created out of nothing; or there is\nonly one supreme form of existence, and the world is eternal, and not\ndistinct from God; there is absolutely but one, and this eternal one\ncomprehends all, and is itself all in all; so that there is nowhere any\nreal and essential distinction; and even that which is alleged to exist\nbetween evil and good is only a delusion of a narrow-minded system of\nethics, or of conventional prejudices, that man allows to pass as such,\nand holds externally in honor, but which intrinsically, and as tested by\nthe rigor of science, has no real and substantial import. Now, the\nnecessity of this choice and determination presses urgently upon our own\ntime, which stands midway between two worlds. Generally it is between\nthese two paths alone that the decision is to be made, since all the\ndoubts and opinions which branch off between them are nothing more than\nthe still unsettled oscillations, assuming in appearance a fixed\nscientific shape, or a vague mixture of narrow and imperfect views,\nwhich are just as far from having taken any precise form or\ndetermination. But the choice between them must be perfectly free. No\none\u2019s conviction can be forced to adopt either one or the other. For\nthat which is to constitute the inmost sentiment and thought of a man,\nor the first, last, and deepest foundation of all his sentiments, does\nnot admit of being imposed upon him extrinsically as the condition of\ncontroversial defeat, without his own internal consent and agreement. It\ncan not enforce his assent as easily as a mere process of calculation.\n\nBut now, if eternity is nothing else but time, vitally full, illimitably\nperfect, and blissfully complete, who, we may ask, first of all caused\nor produced this earthly, fettered, and fragmentary time, which seems\nbut the great bond-chain of the whole world of sense--and what, then, is\nthis time itself? I might answer this latter question by the words of\nthe poet, that it \u201cis out of joint.\u201d[66] For although originally\nemployed of a particular period of history, they admit, I think, of a\nmore extensive and universal signification, and possess an entirely\nmetaphysical application. And what, in short, is metaphysics, or what do\nwe name metaphysical, but that which transcends our ordinary nature and\nthe earthly and limited world of sense? And man can not abandon or get\nrid of all hopes, all prospects of eternity, in short, the thoughts\nwhich, partly, at least, outrun these narrow limits. For if so, he must\nat the same time be willing to cease to be a man, in the full, and true,\nand highest sense of the word. Consequently, as often as he adventures a\nbolder flight of thought and inquiry into that elevated region, then his\nwords and phrases must also transcend the familiar sense and ordinary\nuse of language.\n\nI would not, however, be understood as asserting that the language of\nphilosophy, in its descriptions of supersensuous things and ideas,\nshould anxiously avoid all living expression and every thing lifelike\n(+). For, in strict rigor this is neither possible nor practicable, and\nin any case would lead to a mere abstract nothingness. On the contrary,\nthe more vivid, the more striking, and apparently startling, the more\nboldly figurative and rare are the terms or forms of expression\nemployed, the more pertinently and clearly do they often convey our\nmeaning, and the more happily chosen and to the point do they appear.\n\nIn proof and confirmation of this assertion, I would appeal to the\nlanguage of Holy Writ. Most, if not all its descriptions of matters\nbelonging to the invisible world, and the supersensuous regions of\nthought, or metaphysical subjects, if we could still recall or still\nexperience the first fresh impression, would at once be confessed to be\nthe boldest that language has ever ventured upon. Long familiarity,\nhowever, has made them seem ordinary and tame. And it is necessary to\ncontemplate them long and intensely, if we would revive their original\nfullness and peculiar significancy. In a very recent epoch of science,\nthere prevailed a somewhat similar view of this subject. In Lessing\nespecially it is traceable. For, as often as he entered this region of\ninquiry, he for the most part designedly employed a free and bold style\nof language, similar to that which occasionally I have attempted myself\nto adopt. Now, if it be allowable in this way to apply to time poetical\nphrases, similar to the one above quoted of \u201cTime out of joint,\u201d giving\nthem at the same time a more universal and entirely metaphysical sense,\nI would, in the further consideration of the whole question as to time,\nadvance the following remarks.\n\nIf eternity is essentially nothing else than the fullness of time, which\nconsequently is in itself complete and blissful, then the time which is\n\u201cout of joint,\u201d the deranged and distracted time of sense, is naught but\neternity fallen or brought into a state of disorder. Here, then, the\nfurther question presents itself, \u201cWho can have plunged it into\ndisorder, and perpetrated this jarring interference with the primeval\nharmony, disturbing the inner pulse of the world\u2019s universal life, which\nwas originally so sound?\u201d According to one of these two views which I so\nlately spoke of as lying before men to choose between, all this is but a\ndeception--a mere illusion, produced by the imperfection of our senses.\nEven pain and misfortune, equally with what is called evil, exist only\nfor the poetical purpose of creating, by the skill and spirit with which\nthey are treated, transient, overpowering impressions, which are\nultimately to give place to more elevating emotions. But in the other\nview, which is here adopted as our fundamental conviction, the answer is\neasily found. Or, rather, it is one long since given, and generally\nknown. Since all the elementary forces and original powers in creation\ncan only be regarded as spiritual, therefore the power or might which\nthrew both time and existence, universal life and the whole world, into\ndisorder, could have been no other than the spirit of absolute negation\nwhich rose in revolt against the primary source both of itself and of\nall. The power and influence of this spirit of eternal contradiction and\nendless destruction, which in another place I designated the inventor of\ndeath, can not be rightly deemed either slight or insignificant, if he\nbe with justice entitled \u201cthe Prince and Ruler of this world.\u201d By this\nterm we can not understand any so-called \u201cspirit of the age.\u201d Not, at\nleast, in the ordinary sense of the term, in which it signifies the\nspirit which has originally arisen out of the age itself, and in its\nsphere brilliantly predominant, but which at the same time transcends in\nsome way that sphere, either blending itself with some equally great, if\nnot still more exalted, past, or with some new and future era. For with\nall its excellence of greatness, it is still perhaps partial and narrow\nin its views; and in any case, so soon as the particular age shall be\nover, it too will finally pass away and decline with it. It is, rather,\nthe very spirit that originally introduced the whole of that disjointed\ntime. It is, therefore, the author of this fallacious world of\nsense--the supreme ruler and universal king of all the several periods\nand eras which belong to it, and are so linked together, that as one\nsucceeds and passes into the other, all of them in succession are\nfinally absorbed in the general abyss of eternal nothingness.\nConsequently is it the supreme lord; all these so-called spirits of the\ntimes which are derived from the primary and supreme spirit of the age,\nbeing, so to speak, his absolute subjects and ministers. Now, the belief\nin such a spiritual power of evil, and even the idea of it, simply and\nnakedly as in other times it is presented to us, is almost wholly lost\nsight of in the present day. The expressions of a former faith for what\nit is now the fashion to call \u201cthe spirit of the age\u201d have become\nantiquated, and make but little impression, being for the most part\nscarcely even regarded, or else ingeniously explained away, if not\nderided from the height of a superior enlightenment. Amid the killing\nmonotony of a sleepy skepticism into which men\u2019s views of the world and\nthings had fallen, and as contrasted with a philosophy, neutral from its\norigin, and finally indifferent to every thing, the celebrated English\nauthor of _Cain_ makes a gratifying exception by his vigorous and vivid\nlanguage, giving, at least honor where honor is due, and calling things\nby their right names. Accordingly, he paints to the life the king of the\nspirits of the everlasting abyss and the ruler of this world, in all his\nmajesty of darkness, so that we often wonder whence he could have\nderived all the tints and touches of truth, and are almost tempted to\nask whether this striking portrait, thus executed with a genius and\nfidelity surpassing all similar poetical delineations, does not owe much\nif not all its truth to a personal acquaintance.\n\nBut, however, this deadly spirit of absolute negation, though the name\nbe now scarcely ever heard except in poetry, has not therefore lost, as\nyet, his dominion over this world of time and the science thereof. On\nthe contrary, in the baseless and arbitrary systems which the philosophy\nof the day propounds, he is acknowledged more than ever, though it be\nwith an unconscious reverence. As the idol of absolute rationalism, most\nhighly is he lauded, not to say deified. It is, in fact, remarkable\nthat, in many of the most extreme systems of absolute reason, the whole\nsection of theology is exclusively confined to the negative view of the\ndivine truth. Almost the whole of it, if only a few slight changes be\nmade in the more important phrases, may far more consistently apply to\nthe primal antagonist of eternal love and of revelation, than to that\nbeneficent Being himself.\n\nAnd even in those systems of rationalism which are less spiritually\nperverse and less extravagant, but still equally subversive of a right\nknowledge of the highest truths, the divine nature is frequently if not\nalways confounded with that nothing out of which He has created the\nworld. Or, perhaps, in some more tragic view of the universe, that rigid\nlaw of time which operates on the world of sense, and which gives it up\nas a prey to misery, is, at least poetically, deified as the blind fate\nof an iron necessity. Now, if eternity is in itself and originally\nnothing more than the living, full, and essential time, which is still\ninvisible(+), and if our earthly shackled and fettered time of sense is\nbut an eternity \u201cout of joint,\u201d or fallen a prey to disorder, it is\neasily conceivable that the two do not stand apart and have no mutual\ncontact. On this hypothesis they may possess many a common point of\ntransition from one sphere into the other. At least such a point of\ntransition is in general experience afforded us by death, which is\nmostly looked upon and regarded in this light. Trivial as may sound the\nsentiment so commonly uttered of the dead, that they have changed time\nfor eternity, still we can not well question the correctness of the\nnotion on which the expression is founded. Now, these questions about\ntime and eternity nearly concern, and in many ways interest, every\nthoughtful mind, not only by their connection with life and death, but\ngenerally with all existence and consciousness. I can not, therefore,\napprove of the wish to exclude them entirely from the philosophy of\nlife, as lying beyond the ordinary range of the practical intellect,\nand, therefore, with all similar matters of unprofitable disputation, to\nbe abandoned to the theologian and the student. On the contrary, I have\nfelt it to be most agreeable to the position which I have taken up, and\nthe view which it opens out, to hazard at least an experiment, and to\ntry whether it be not possible to express these subjects, and to set\nthem forth in language at once appropriate and generally intelligible.\n\nReligious people often speak of death, sometimes generally as a\n\u201creturn,\u201d at others with a further addition as \u201ca return home.\u201d Such\nmodes of speaking, I admit, merely as such, and especially when they are\nuttered as so many empty phrases, unaccompanied with real feeling, and\nrepeated without discrimination, in season and out of season, are not,\nperhaps, calculated to make a very deep impression. Still a very\nbeautiful but grave meaning is, nevertheless, contained in them, and one\nwhich throws out very strongly the purely spiritual aspect of the\nmatter. But here, then, a difficulty immediately presents itself. The\nquestion arises, how can we be said to go back or return to a place\nwhere, in fact, we never were before, or how can that be rightly called\nour home, which in our present life we first seek, and are to find and\nlearn to consider as such. In short, the difficulty recurs in the same\nmanner as the somewhat similar questions which are involved by Plato\u2019s\nnotion of an _anamnesis_, so long as it is conceived, not (as we would\nunderstand it) as a recollection of eternity, but quite literally as\nthat of a former state of things. But if, agreeably to a vivid\nconception of time and eternity, a less absolute distinction prevails\nbetween these two ideas, and many points of contact and transition from\none to the other may be found, of which death is one, all the difficulty\nis removed, and every thing in our view and hypothesis becomes easily\nintelligible and self-evident. It is, at least, one aspect of death, and\na cheerful one too, which exhibits it as a transition from time into\neternity, or out of a fettered and distracted time into that which is\ntrue, perfect, and blissful. In truth, however, much more is involved\nherein. For death, in general, is no simple event, but a very\ncomplicated phenomenon. No doubt that feature which stands out most\nfearfully in the whole event, throwing into the shade and obscuring its\nother higher and more spiritual elements, is the sufferings of disease,\nwhich are often so agonizing--the pang of dissolving and decaying\norganization in the last awful struggle of nature, as it tears itself so\nreluctantly from life. But even in the midst of all this, occasionally,\nat least, another and a better state intervenes. A cessation of all\nphysical pain seems suddenly to occur, and to be followed by an almost\njoyous, or, at least, composed state, which may be often regarded as the\nharbinger of approaching dissolution. Medical experience, moreover, has\nrecorded many special cases (the explanation of which, however, I leave\nto others) of idiotcy and madness, which had arisen either from sad\ndefects and derangement of the thinking faculty, suddenly disappearing\nat the approach of death, and of the full, perfect consciousness\nreturning with extraordinary clearness in the few brief moments which\nprecede the instant of decease. There is yet another remarkable element\nor feeling in death; and it is one totally independent of the organic\npain of dissolution in its various modifications, or the striking\nphenomena which may be observed in individual cases. I allude to the\nfeeling which shrinks at the thought of the decisive transition and\nforcible passage into an entirely new sphere, which, however, must not\nbe confounded with an unmanly fear of death. In many instances, too, it\nhas no connection with any troubled thoughts or anxious cares for near\nand dear ones to be left behind, nor yet with any inward doubts of a\nrestless and disturbed conscience. By no such feelings alone by\nthemselves can it be interpreted or explained. All this is entirely\ndistinct from that which I have at present in my mind, and which may\nvery simply be termed a slight mental shrinking before a wholly unknown\nstate of being, which is, at least, natural to all men, and affects\nevery one, more or less, if the change comes upon them in the full\npossession of their faculties. But in those whose contemplations have\nlong been directed to this closing event of life--in whom a profound and\ndeep acquaintance with the thought of eternity, and the sublime\nenlightenment of a confiding faith, have taken the place of a dark\nuncertainty, and who also, between the last struggle of organic life and\nthe final pang of dissolution, enjoy for a brief interval the last\nquickening breath of the departing energy of nature, there death is seen\nin its bright aspect. For such it unquestionably does possess. How\noften, on the very countenance of the departed, does a calm and\nbeautiful death like this leave its touching trace behind! How often do\nwe see with astonishment a sweet smile, like that of a sleeping child,\nlingering on the well-known face, but in whose very sweetness is mingled\na slight though scarce perceptible trace of some faint recollection of\nprevious suffering. He who has once seen some dear friend or\nacquaintance so die, or beheld the beloved countenance after such a\ndeath, will assuredly cherish forever the remembrance of this soothing\nexpression. Nothing less than a blissful presentiment of eternity seems\nto have preceded or impressed itself on the dying features, breaking\nthrough the shackles of time before its full course was ended. And it is\nonly in this light that I have mentioned it as being one of the points\nof contact or moments of transition which facts clearly establish\nbetween time and eternity, since this final crisis of our consciousness\nforms an important element for the psychological and perfect\ncomprehension of the human intellect and its development.\n\nBut even during life itself there also occur many phenomena and\noccasions in which, for the brief continuance at least of such moments\nof intense existence, the limits of time seem to be broken through or\nremoved. To this class belong those brief intervals of rapture which are\nenjoyed in the midst of deep and earnest devotion--or of proper ecstasy,\nwhich, so far as it is genuine and real, we can not but consider as an\ninterval of eternity in the midst of time, or as a fleeting glance into\nthe higher world of full and unchecked spiritual life. Even the inward\nworldless prayer, in so far as it is preceded by a real emotion of the\nheart, profoundly agitating its inmost feelings, is, as it were, a drop\nof eternity falling through time into the soul. Genuine ecstasy, in so\nfar as it is real and actual, is often on its organic side accompanied\nby a beginning, which indeed is little more than the appearance, though\na highly delusive feeling, of dying away, which precedes the higher\ngleam or echo from the world beyond the grave. Such phenomena, however,\nrequire attentive examination before we can draw from them any precise\ninference. The general idea of them may be distinctly traced in the\nhuman consciousness. The recognition of their existence is therefore\nessential to a full knowledge of the latter. It is, however, often very\ndifficult to form a judgment of individual instances, which are often\nmore or less doubtful. On this account it will be sufficient in this\nplace if, without entering deeply into these necessary distinctions and\nmanifold doubts to which all of such phenomena are liable, we simply\nnotice the fact, as forming one of the most intimate points of\nassociation at which time and eternity come in contact and mutually\nintermingle.\n\nOf such points several still remain to be noticed. One of the least\nastonishing, and one which in its operation on the soul is no less\nuniversal and beneficial than it is generally intelligible, is that\nwhich is found in true art and the higher kind of poetry. For here also,\neven beneath the earthly shell of sensuous phenomenon and the temporal\nincidents of figurative poetry, the eternal brightens over all. And it\nis on this mighty influence of the eternal, which gleams through its\nexternal investiture of ornament, that the exalted dignity and\ndistinctive charm of true art and the higher branches of poetry depends.\nEven here, however, as elsewhere, a strict distinction must be made\nbetween the true gold and the worthless \u00e6sthetical tinsel and mere\nmannerism of fashion. For such a distinction is necessary in every case\nwhere the heavenly and eternal comes into close contact with the earthly\nand transitory.\n\nThat recollection of eternal love, which is implanted, communicated, or\ninnate in the human mind, and which here swells out from its hidden\ndepth (and this is the true original subject-matter of Plato\u2019s notion of\nthe _anamnesis_, which, as I have endeavored to show, thus cleared from\nall foreign admixture and corrupting additions, is quite\nunexceptionable), is not merely a principle of the higher life. Rather\nis it one of the great vital arteries of true poetry and art, of which,\nhowever, there are many others equally essential and no less rich and\nprolific. Such, for instance, is the longing after the infinite, whose\nhopes and aspirations are directed more to the future than is the case\nwith that remembrance of eternal love, which, as such, clings more\nclosely to the past, and is often also lost and absorbed in the historic\nperception of some actual past. On the other hand, the true inspiration,\nboth in art and in life, is exclusively devoted to a something divine in\nthe present, which may be either real or what is at least held to be\nsuch, being most intimately bound up with a feeling of such a divine\npresence, and with a belief therein. Thus, then, these three forms of\nthe highest sentiment in man\u2019s nature, as it yearns after the infinite\nor swells forth from the eternal source, and longs to receive the\ndivine, are in their different tendencies tied again, not unnaturally,\nto the three times, or rather, the different categories of our\nearthly-divided time.\n\nThe recollection of eternal love, as far as regards its influence on\nart, is in truth nothing but a feeling or an inborn idea, if some will\nso call it. And yet its influence may be universal, and extend itself\nover the whole field of man\u2019s consciousness. For all other sentiments of\nthe inner man, all the thoughts, conceptions, and ideas of the thinker,\nand even all the images, shapes, and forms--in short, the whole ideal of\nthe artist--are now forthwith imbued with this one fundamental feeling\nof eternal love, being, as it were, bathed in a sea or stream of higher\nlife, spiritually refined, and exalted and transformed into a purer and\nhigher degree of beauty and perfection. And thus it is that this ideal\nview of the world becomes at once conceivable and perfectly clear, to\nall at least who can enter into and sympathize with Platonic sentiments\nand ideas, and especially in its close relation to science and the\nplastic arts. And thus, understood in this correct sense, within its\nproper limits, and in that place of the human consciousness to which it\nreally belongs, may well be admitted, and even extended to a wider\napplication.\n\n(+) In order, however, to be able to assign their fitting place in the\nwhole consciousness to those other two exalted feelings which are\nimplanted in man\u2019s breast as so many suggesters of eternity, the\nlonging, viz., after infinity, and a vitally energetic enthusiasm, it\nwill be necessary still further to prosecute and complete our\npsychological review, so as to take in the whole range of faculties\nbelonging to it, and to exhibit their mutual relations.\n\nIn my sketchy outline of man\u2019s spiritual life and consciousness, I set\nout, you will remember, with the four elementary faculties,\nunderstanding and will, reason and fancy, as the four opposite and\nextreme poles of the inner world. As conscience and memory presented\nthemselves to our consideration in the progress of our inquiries, they\nwere characterized as mediate and collateral faculties of the reason,\nsince the conscience stands midway between reason and will, and the\nmemory between reason and understanding. In a similar way I would now\nattempt to explain man\u2019s instincts, especially in that peculiar form in\nwhich they belong only to man, as distinct from the brutes, and\nsubsequently become passions. Afterward I shall proceed to explain why,\nin those instances when they appear to be exaggerated into passions,\nthey must, to preserve analogy with the view hitherto maintained, be\nheld to be nothing else than movements of the will, or as a will which\nhas yielded itself to the illimitable range of fancy, and thereby lost\nits inner equilibrium, and finally all liberty, or at least its actual\nexercise. This intermediate position of the instincts between will and\nfancy, and the fatal and pernicious influence which both these\nfundamental powers exert in that height of passionateness and sensuality\nwhich constitutes them faults of character, are also especially manifest\nin what are properly the natural instincts, as enjoyed by man in common\nwith the brutes, and the evil of which arises always, or at least\nprincipally, from their excessive indulgence and undue excitement. It is\noften possible for this excess to reach such a height, and to become so\ndeadly injurious, as to destroy the health, corrupt the whole soul, and\nto debase the mind to such a degree that it is felt to be almost\ninjustice to compare such a human being, thus degraded by his own fault,\nwith the nobler animals, whose simple instincts and their gratification\nalternate almost as regularly as day and night or the rising and setting\nof the stars in heaven. In such cases, however, we may easily discover\nwhat was the first cause of such aberrations.\n\nIn the better case, at least, the corruption, _i.e._, of what was\npreviously a noble disposition, it is invariably, in the first instance,\nsome false charm of fancy or imagination which has overmastered the mind\nwith magical power, and subsequently carried it away captive to its\nwill. In every case, however, it is some perverted apprehension, or\nillusory power of the infinite, which causes a man who has once fallen a\nprey to any strong passion to devote all his energies, thoughts, and\nfeelings to the one object, or to surrender himself, heart and soul, to\nthe despotic tyranny of some ruling habit or favorite pursuit. How else\ncould there ever have been any talk of the delusions of fancy, which,\nhowever, exercise so wide and fatal an influence on human life, and\ngenerally in the world, unless a distorted fancy had lent a hand and\nco-operated therein? Even such emotions and impulses as fear and anger,\nwhich are not directed merely to the gratification of the wants of\nnature, but to self-preservation and defense, and which, consequently,\nbelong equally to the brutes--these also admit of being carried, by\nunrestrained indulgence, to the height of passionateness. This is\nespecially the case with anger. Wherever long indulgence has made it a\nruling habit, and if, moreover, it is associated with envy, hatred, and\nrevenge (which, indeed, are not properly natural instincts, and in this\nform can scarcely be ascribed to the brutes, but rather faults of\ncharacter in a demoralized rational being), its outbreaks of passion are\nfearfully violent. Under their combined influence the wild outbreaks of\nman\u2019s evil principle often run into fury and madness. But even in\navarice itself, it is also some false and strangely-perverted charm of\nfancy, which in its highest degree approximates very closely to the\nnature of a fixed idea, that furnishes the first ground and deepest root\nof this unblessed passion for the earthly mammon. And here, again, in\nthis insatiable love of riches, we meet with a false force of the\ninfinite, and one which can never be satisfied.\n\nA further ethical investigation into these erring instincts does not lie\nwithin my present limits. The context of our psychological inquiries\nonly brought them before us for a limited consideration, with a view to\ndetermine the position they occupy in the whole consciousness. And here,\nas in my former instances of comparative psychology, I do not wish to\ncast my glance downward longer than is necessary, but rather, as quickly\nas possible, to raise it upward again. In the present case this can\neasily be done. For, for our present purpose, the simple remark will\nsuffice, that the power of infinity in itself, and the pursuit of the\ninfinite, is properly natural to man, and a part of his very essence.\nAll that is wrong in it, and the source of all its aberrations, is\nsimply and entirely boundless excess. Above all, we must blame that\nquality of absoluteness, which in every time and place exercises a fatal\nand destructive influence, both on thought and practice, or, perhaps,\nthe fault may be laid to a false direction of this pursuit toward the\nsensible and material objects of this earthly and transitory existence,\nwhich, for the most part, are utterly unworthy of it. For man\u2019s natural\nlonging after the infinite, even as it still shows itself in his\npassions and failings, can not, wherever it is still genuine, be\nsatisfied by any earthly object, or sensual gratification, or external\npossession.\n\nWhen, however, this pursuit, keeping itself free from all delusions of\nsense, and from the fettering shackles of earthly passion, really\ndirects its endeavors toward the infinite, and only to what is truly\nsuch, then can it never rest or be stationary. Ever advancing, step by\nstep, it must always seek to rise higher and higher. And this pure\nfeeling of endless longing forms, with the recollection of eternal love,\nthe heavenward-bearing wings on which the soul raises itself upward to\nthe divine. This, indeed, has been felt and perceived by Platonic\nthinkers in all ages. From the earlier centuries to the present many a\ndeeply-significant sentence might easily be selected and quoted on the\nidea of this longing after the infinite. And this testimony is not\nconfined merely to the comparatively modern philosophy of Europe and the\nWest. The sacred writings, also, of the Hebrews contain a beautiful\nsentence on this head. Thus a certain prophet, as endowed with more than\nordinary power, as chosen for a high and divine destination, or mission,\nis expressly called a man of longing [desires],[67] as by a title\npeculiarly suited to him, and most clearly indicating the natural\npreparation for all higher spiritual and divine avocations. And, in a\nsense borrowed from, if not exactly identical with, the above, a\nsomewhat similar title has been given to the richest and profoundest of\nhis works by a French philosopher of our own days, to whom, while I can\nnot adopt unconditionally all his principles and sentiments, I must\nconcede the highest praise for the zeal with which, in all his writings,\nhe has maintained and promulgated a high and lofty tone, both in\nintellectual and divine things, and that, too, in the midst of\nrevolutionary times, when the prevailing tone of thinking was decidedly\nmaterial, and, indeed, had assumed a thoroughly demoralizing and\natheistic tendency. At a former epoch, now more than twenty years ago,\nwhen I attempted, in French, to set forth to a friendly audience the\nprinciples of the Philosophy of Life, so far as I at that time\ncomprehended it, I thought that it was indispensable to make this pure\nidea of an exalted longing the primary position from which the whole\nview of life must be developed. This, however, was too exclusive, and,\nfor that reason, unsatisfactory. It is, therefore, my present wish to\nembrace all higher elements of conscience, however manifold they may be,\nand however different in kind they may appear, and, taking a\ncomprehensive view of them, to unite them in a whole.\n\nEven for poetry and art there is more than one such primary fountain or\nvital artery of higher sentiment. If, then, the recollection of eternal\nlove must be recognized as one of these, who can well doubt that the\npure longing after the infinite, which holds so deep and firm a root in\nman\u2019s bosom, also forms another? In poetry, the former is distinctly\ntraceable under the form of elegy--at least in the first simple poesy of\nfancy\u2019s earliest and youthful days. It sounds forth here a mournful\nrecollection of a faded world of gods and heroes--as the echoing plaint\nfor the loss of man\u2019s original, celestial state, and paradisaical\ninnocence, or, lastly, in a still more general and higher sense, as the\nfaint and dying notes of the happy infancy of the whole creation, ere\nyet the spiritual world had been divided by dissension, and before the\nfirst outbreak of evil, and the consequent misery of nature. Viewing it\nin this light, and designating poetry in general analogically to an\nexpression which we before made use of, we may term poetry the mind\u2019s\ntranscendent recollection of the eternal. For the first and most ancient\npoetry, as the common memory of the human race--its higher organ of\nremembrance--passes on from century to century, and from nation to\nnation; and though ever dressing itself in the changing fashion of the\nday, yet, through all time, it refers us back to the primary and\neternal.\n\nMusic, on the other hand, is eminently an art of longing. To this it\nowes all its ravishing enchantments--its magic and irresistible charms.\nIn music, however, as in every other form of art, the higher and the\nearthly--the soul, as it were, and the body--the heavenly longing and\nthe terrestrial are often blended together in the same note and tone, so\nas scarcely to be discriminated. It is this mingling of feelings and\nemotions--where from amid the half-unconscious earthly longing a higher\nand more heavenly aspiration gleams out, that in youth, when man\u2019s\nsensibility is first developed and expanded, gives to newly-waking love\nits peculiar magic charm, the inner grace of the youthful soul\ncontributing as much if not more than even the bloom of corporeal\nbeauty. The question, indeed, whether in this youthful longing really a\nhigher love of eternal duration, as an inner light, which is continually\npurifying and perfecting itself, be inclosed within the earthly\nveil--whether this first love of youth be even the true love, or whether\nall may have been nothing more than the transient and flickering flame\nof a delusion--this question can be alone determined from its results;\nin other words, by the life which proceeds and follows from it. It must\nbe proved by the unwavering truth and fidelity--I might almost say, the\ninward truth of the heart and the outward character of the whole life;\nand, in short, of a higher love in its every species, whether human or\ndivine.\n\nNow this longing holds a most important place in man. Not only is it the\ncrisis of transition from childish, shall we say consciousness or\nunconsciousness, into a more mature development--not only is it the\nthreshold under which youthful expectation enters on a fuller and more\nperfect life; but also still surviving uninterruptedly to the end, it\never remains the first, strongest, and purest impulse of the inner man.\nThe light of its never-dying flame, growing purer and stronger, lights\nhim on his way to a higher and better existence. It seems, therefore,\nnot out of place to add here the remark, how deeply hope, which is so\nclosely associated with this longing aspiration, is interwoven into the\nvery being of man, so as almost to form the characteristic peculiarity\nof his inner life and whole state.\n\nThe lost spirits, we are told, \u201cbelieve and tremble.\u201d[68] Love, too, is\nthe essential property of God, and even his very essence, and in a\ncertain sense, also, it is common to all beings created by eternal love.\nEven in the hidden veins of life, through all animated nature, beats\nthis pulse of universal love. Hope, however, can not be ascribed to God,\nfor in Him all is full and perfect. Nature can only sigh and bemoan\nitself; and even though it be not hopelessly wretched, yet, properly, it\ncan not hope for aught, by its own power, at least. To man, above all\nother created beings, belongs the prerogative of hope. We might almost\ncall him an immortal spirit, subjected to the condition of hope. And so,\nbefore the rest of creation, he is destined and chosen to be the\nevangelist of divine hope.\n\nAs the third of the inner life-springs of true art and higher poetry, I\nspoke of a true enthusiasm and inspired feeling of the divine. Now,\namong the various arts, I would especially appropriate this to the\nplastic art--in that widest and justest sense of the term, in which it\ncomprises, also, the higher architecture. For, in enthusiasm and\ninspiration, the divinity with which it is imbued is not viewed and\ncontemplated in the remote distance either of the past or the future. It\nis embraced at once as something actual and present. And this holds good\nboth of the enthusiasm of art, and also of that which, in moral and\npolitical life, often creates for itself an epoch, shaping and bringing\nforth whatever is truly new and original. Now, the divine in beauty must\nbe actually present to the mind, at least, of the artist. It must have\nstood vividly before his mental eye before it could have come forth in\noutward and visible form. Since universally the perfection of art\ndepends on some antagonism and the artist\u2019s triumph over it, it is\nself-evident that even here the most exalted enthusiasm must be\nassociated with a thoughtful sagacity and persevering steadiness of\nexecution, if any great and perfect work is to be produced. Moreover, it\ncan scarcely be necessary to remind you that the arts, even though,\nperhaps, in each of them there is a predominance of some peculiar kind\nof higher feeling, or some spirit of higher life swells out in it, are\nnot, therefore, rigidly limited on all sides and irrevocably confined\nwithin these narrow limits. On the contrary, one branch of art often\npasses over into the domain of another. And this interference is not\nalways a misconception, owing chiefly to some confusion of essential\nmatters, and, therefore, in the highest degree erroneous and\nprejudicial. Poetry, especially, often springs up indigenous in other\ndomains of art, being the most universal of all. And if in poetry itself\nthose ancient and primitive poems or epic songs of sublime recollections\noccupy the first place, who, therefore, would exclude from it the deep,\ninner, ardent longing--the oracular faculty of divination for exalted\nlove and eternal hope, with all its music of the feelings, forming, as\nit does, the spiritual contents, the animating principle and distinctive\nessence of the lyrical art? Who, too, would dare to censure poetry,\nbecause, striving to give another and a newer expression to all that, in\nthese divine remembrances and longing anticipations, constitutes its\ninmost soul, it attempts, by dramatic representation, to portray the\nessential features of its inmost being, with all the vivid reality and\ndistinct completeness of the present? For does it not, in this respect,\napproximate, so far, at least, to the plastic arts, and begin to assume\nmany points of affinity with them?\n\nIt is, however, necessary to guard here against a possible\nmisunderstanding. Not without good cause, I believe, before all things\nis the rigid discrimination insisted on which must separate true poetry\nfrom a spurious semblance. Poetry which condescends to minister either\nto the passions or to fashion, or even to prose, or any mere prosaic\nends, can not deserve the name. But it is another thing when the poet\nworks his poetical view of things (and this is that which constitutes\nthe poet, and not the mere outward form of poetry alone) into the\nprosaic reality of some present time, or some historical subject. So,\ntoo, is it when in some consistent and artistic imitation of life he\ntakes for his theme the maze of human passions, by no means for the\npurpose of prolonging it, and still less of inflaming it, but rather\nbecause he clearly sees through its complications, to unfold and\ndisentangle them. This we might call--employing a term belonging to the\nmathematical sciences, though in a different but still analogous\nsense--mixed or applied poetry; and to this class belong many of the\nhighest productions of art in different ages and nations.\n\nThe different arts, or, rather, the different directions of one and the\nsame art, in the several epochs and ages of the world, or among nations\nvariously divided by language and manners, as well as by the style and\ncharacter of their thought and intellect, may be considered as merely so\nmany varying dialects of one and the same language, which have a common\norigin and are nearly related. For they possess a common meaning, which,\ninterpreted by a profound and noble perception of art, will be found to\npervade all centuries and all people, uniting and enchaining them all by\nthis soul-binding tie of a loving and love-kindled fancy. These eternal\nand fundamental feelings of the human breast, the remembrance of\neternity, an innate longing and high-soaring aspiration, stand in the\nmost intimate connection with each other, even though we can not take a\nfull survey of it, and often feel it profoundly rather than are able\nperfectly to explain it. They are like so many stem-words and radical\nsyllables, and form together, as it were, one common language. And if,\nas I before remarked, we should in vain seek for that common and\noriginal language, from which all those now spoken on the face of the\nearth can be derived, both ethnographically and geologically, may we not\nstill find in art a universal language intelligible to all men? Is not\nthis language (as I may term it) thus enveloped in the garb of art,\nthrough which, however, a profound significance gleams brightly forth,\nan original language of a higher and intellectual order, and at the same\ntime intimately akin with our own nature? Do not its echoes, however\nfaint and broken, when reawakened by true art and sublime poetry, strike\na chord of unison in every human breast?\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE V.\n\n\nThe general notion of the inner life formed the point from which we\nstarted in this attempt to portray the whole spiritual man. I\nmaintained, you will remember, that the philosophy of life proceeds on\nthe simple assumption of this inner life. Now, in the preceding\ndiscourses it has been my endeavor to unfold this general idea into a\nmore fully-developed and more definite conception of human\nconsciousness, both in its several principles and total coherence. And\nthis almost completes the first division of our whole sketch. For fully\nto complete a knowledge of ourselves, and of life in general, a few\nparticulars only remain to be added, and a comprehensive review of the\nwhole once more to be taken. And this, in the natural order of this\nsimple development of thought, forms the next subject of our labors. By\nreason of the close vital connection which subsists between thought and\nspeech, language served in the first instance for an external basis of\ncomparison, which in the next place art enabled me to carry still\nfarther, inasmuch as the latter may also be regarded as an inner\nlanguage. For, however fragmentary and incomplete may be our collection\nof languages and the science thereof, notwithstanding all the\nenlargement it has received from modern observation and research, it is\nstill possible, by a rigorous distinction of the derivatory and mixed\noffshoots from the more ancient and purer branches, to gain at least an\ninsight into the history and progress of language, and thence to trace\nthe probable course of its development, even while its origin, no less\nthan the equally incomprehensible phenomenon of its first exercise,\nremains veiled in impenetrable obscurity. And when we called art a\nlanguage, we did not mean this merely in the same sense that poetry has\nbeen styled--and indeed has even herself assumed the title of--a divine\nlanguage, on account of the ornamental figures of its external form;\nneither was it because of the allegorical shapes and allusions, nor of\nthe symbolical garb which plastic art so often puts on. The so\ntransiently advanced metaphor was intended to convey the idea that art\nin general, not merely in its outward form, but in its inmost essence,\nand in all of its forms and species alike, is a language of nature of a\nhigher and spiritual kind, or, if the term be preferred, an inward\nhieroglyphical writing and original speech of the soul, which is\nimmediately intelligible to all susceptible natures, and to every one\nwhose sensibilities a taste for any form of art has rendered open and\naccessible to its appeal. For the key to it lies not in any arbitrarily\nestablished principle, as is the case with that ingenious and beautiful,\nbut still merely conventional invention of the East--the symbolical\nlanguage of flowers, but in the feeling and the soul itself. For the\neternal and fundamental feelings of the soul are awakened, or, rather,\nreawakened, in these inner-soul words of true art, which, in the same\nsense that we speak of the riddle of life or of the world, making its\nsolution the object and aim of philosophy, we may likewise term a riddle\nof hope--of that hope, in truth, which is eternal and divine. But high\nart, like life and the world, remains a riddle, and must ever appear to\nus as such, simply because in reality, or at least for the greater part,\nit is only a few detached notes, without the full and coherent air, that\nit allows to reach us.\n\nThere is, then, an intrinsic connection between thought and speech,\nbetween language and consciousness. Moreover man, to judge of him by the\ncollective sum of his characteristic and essential properties, is\nnothing else than the _created word_, the faint echo and very imperfect\ncopy of the uncreated and eternal, and stands amid the rest of creation,\nmidway between the world of nature and that of spirits. For these\nreasons, then, in the further exposition of his inner life I shall\ninvariably make use of the idea of language, and even many of its\ncharacteristic properties or peculiarities, as the external basis of a\ncomparison calculated to throw light upon much that in the inward\nthought of man it is otherwise difficult to express and to make clear by\nwords. For, indeed, generally, living thought and the science thereof,\ncan not well or easily be separated from the philosophy of language.\n\nThe general idea of the inner life was, I said, the basis of all the\nprevious development of ideas, and this was the only hypothesis which a\nphilosophy of life stands in need of, or can venture to assume. An\nobjection may, it is true, be here started. In the various digressions\ninto which, in the further development of this one fundamental thought,\nI have been led by my wish to expand it to a full and complete idea of\nthe consciousness, it may be said that much besides has been supposed or\ntaken for granted, if not expressly, yet tacitly; not indeed\narbitrarily, but still as the result of a merely personal conviction,\nhowever positive and deliberate. To this objection, so naturally to be\nexpected, I can only reply, that if occasionally I may not have\nexpressed myself hypothetically enough, it was, nevertheless, my\nintention so to do. Consequently all hypothetical positions, with the\nexception of the fundamental one of the inner thought and life, hitherto\nassumed by me, are to be regarded here simply in such a light. They are\nadvanced only for the nonce, and provisionally, until they can receive a\nfurther and completer analysis, without in anywise anticipating the\nproof, nor, by a hasty decision, assuming the truth, as if it were\nindependent of argument.\n\nNow, since doubt is a necessary and inevitable property and an essential\nprinciple of the whole man in his present state, we are brought by the\nregular course of our analysis to the problem which is furnished by the\nthought at issue with itself. To this subject, which now forces itself\nimmediately on our attention, we must devote an entire section of our\nlabors. The object of the first portion was to advance the simple and\ngeneral thought of the inner life (as being in this simple generality\ntoo vague and undefined), or to raise it, step by step, to a full,\ncomplete, and comprehensive, but at the same time rightly divided\nconception of the human mind. In the same way, in the next division of\nmy speculations, the essential subject and proper aim will be to carry\nthat feeling, call it as we will, whether of pure love, or inner life,\nor higher truth, whose existence we have, we think, clearly established,\nthrough the crisis of doubt, to a determinate judgment of profound\ncertainty and unwavering conviction, or at least to a rigorous\ndistinction between that which is certain and that which must forever\nremain uncertain.\n\nNow, to render in any degree complete that characteristic of the human\nmind which it has been our object or endeavor in the previous Lectures\nto sketch in detail, we were obliged to take in also those higher\nelements which by many are called in question, and by some positively\ndenied to exist. And herein lay the natural ground and the occasion for\nour introducing the mention of them, at least as facts of consciousness\ngenerally acknowledged by the common-sense of mankind. Not that we\nthereby meant to exclude them from a profounder investigation, or to\nguard them against the intrusion of that doubt which knows no limits to\nits skepticism. We only reserved them to their appropriate place in the\nnatural course of our development of living thought. Some there are, we\nknow, who hold even a higher and genuine sense of art to be a mere fancy\neither of genius, devoted to and displaying its excellence therein, or\nof the mere _dilettanti_. Others again, and even celebrated writers,\nhave explained conscience and its still, small voice, by the acquired or\ninstilled prejudice of education, or as the delusive effect of custom.\nHow far more numerous, then, must be the doubts which such a system of\nabnegation of all that is good and exalted would raise against the\nPlatonic doctrine of a recollection of eternal love, or that idea which\nI have labored to establish, of a pure longing after infinity! If,\nagain, many question the freedom of the will, they deny, in fact, the\nwill itself; for a will that is not free ceases to be will. If,\nmoreover, others refuse to recognize in all human thought, fictions, and\ninventions, any thing creatively new and peculiarly original, seeing\ntherein nothing but repetition or fresh combinations of external\nimpressions, consequently denying to the human mind all power of\ninvention, then must fancy be denied to be one of the mind\u2019s fundamental\npowers. For, in truth, in such a case, it is nothing more than memory,\nor, rather, it is memory fallen into delirium. Others, again, would\nrefer even reason itself and the essential rational character of man\nsimply to a more delicate sensuous organization than is possessed by the\nmost highly-endowed among the brute creation. All such special and\neccentric opinions form but so many subordinate chapters of our second\npart, which has for its theme reason and doubt, and the state of doubt,\nwhich are natural to man. To it, therefore, they must be reserved for\ninvestigation. We can not anticipate the period of their discussion in\nthe present place, where our first object is, by a development of the\nsimple thought and the general ideas of the inner life, to sketch a\nperfect outline of the human mind, which shall take in all its higher\nelements and capacities, as well as the earthly and inferior ingredients\nwhich are blended with them.\n\nThe thought or conception, as the general manifestation of the inner\nlife, is in its nature and form indefinite, but still a cogitation,\nwhich even at this step is already referred to a particular object, and\nso in its contents limited thereto. An idea or notion, however, is a\nconception mathematically proportioned by number, measure, and weight;\n_i.e._, according to the number of its several constituents it is\ncarefully divided, and its subordinate genera enumerated; measured\naccording to its extent, and according to its internal value and\ncomprehension, and also its relation to other kindred notions of a\nhigher or lower order carefully weighed and pondered; in short, a\nconception complete and perfect in itself. Hitherto, therefore, it has\nbeen properly but a single notion that has engaged our attention, and\nformed the subject-matter of our whole speculation--the notion, viz., of\nthe human consciousness. For it is not merely philosophy to link\ntogether in a never-ending chain its own self-derived and arbitrary\nideas, by some specious rule of necessary connection. The duty of\nphilosophy is rather originally to combine facts--and, in truth, all the\ngiven facts of a certain kind, and within a certain range, in one clear,\nintelligible, and perfectly vivid notion, and it has generally to do\nwith very few ideas. Two or three ideas, in short, such as that of\nconsciousness, of science, or of man himself, are quite sufficient for\nits purpose of solving, if not fully and completely, yet at least to the\nfull extent of what is not merely possible and allowable, but also\nwholesome and profitable, the three riddles of life, of the universe,\nand of a divine hope, which lie before the whole human mind, and thereby\nto arrive at some abiding conviction with regard to them.\n\nNow, in concluding our development of the human mind, and adding to it\nall that is still wanting to its completeness, I shall observe the same\nmethod of exposition as I have hitherto followed. Leaving for the nonce\nunmooted, the grave questions whether there be any such thing as\ntruth--and, if so, whether man is capable of recognizing and attaining\nto it in any degree--and reserving them to their appropriate place where\nthey will naturally arise, I shall adopt into the outline of the general\nnotion of the consciousness all those facts of it which are acknowledged\nby the common-sense of mankind. I shall, as such, allow them all and no\nmore than their due weight. Occasionally, however, when any such\nphenomenon appears somewhat questionable, I shall add a word or two of\nexplanation, in order to guard against the possibility of misconception,\nor an overhasty inference, setting down the facts purely as such, and\nso far as they are already apprehended, for further investigation and\ninquiry.\n\nThe four opposite poles or extremes of man\u2019s divided and discordant\nconsciousness are, I said, its four fundamental faculties or powers,\nunderstanding and will, and reason and fancy. With regard to the two\nfirst, every one may, both from internal experience of his own self and\nfrom observation of his fellow-men, easily arrive at a conviction that\nthey seldom work together in perfect harmony, and that the discord is\noften the most violent when either one or both of these two faculties\npossess more than ordinary strength. The marked opposition between\nreason and fancy reveals itself but too plainly, both in private and\npublic life. The men of mere taste and imagination, artistic and\npoetical natures (to which category, in a somewhat loose sense, very\nmany really belong, though the happy exceptions of true genius be indeed\nrare), on the one hand; and on the other, the men of practical\nreason--the utilitarians, who limit their views, more or less, to the\npublic advantage to be derived from this quality of practical reason,\nand look with distrust to every higher flight of fancy or feeling, form\ntwo hostile classes of men, who with difficulty comprehend each other.\nAt least they are seldom in a position to understand one another\u2019s\nfeelings, and rightly and fairly to appreciate them. Still more rare are\nthe exceptions, where both these faculties and mental characters are\nfound united in one and the same individual.\n\nAfter these four fundamental faculties of the first order, come certain\naccessory functions of the second order, derived from or compounded of\nthe former. Of these, conscience and memory, and after them the\ninstincts and passions, have been described as movements of the will,\npassing over into the illimitable region of the fancy, and consequently\nholding an intermediate place between will and fancy. We have now to add\na word or two concerning the external senses, and therewith to complete\nour sketch of the human consciousness in its present divided and\ndistracted condition. But previously to entering upon this topic, I\nwould, with reference to this last-mentioned characteristic of instinct,\ncall your attention to a particular species of it, which is not\nunimportant, but rather belongs essentially to a complete picture of\nthis part of the human consciousness. It will, moreover, furnish a new\ninstance, to show how in nature herself there lies a cause, or at least\na first occasion for many parallels of comparative psychology, similar\nto those which have already presented themselves. I am alluding to the\nartistic instincts displayed by some of the more sagacious animals, and\nespecially some of the industrious members of the insect tribe. These\npresent a remarkable affinity to human art, in which all, at least, is\nnot the effect of teaching. In the lower but still beautiful degrees of\nartistic talent, there is much that seems instinctive in its operation,\nand, as it were, unconscious and innate. True and lofty genius of art\ncan not be here included. It belongs, on the contrary, to a different\nsphere. For in it the unconscious creative faculty is not narrowly\nrestricted to one rigid path or definite form, but has rather for its\nessential basis a productive power of imagination, of universal range\nand fullness, and which, as it were, travails in birth with the\ninfinite.\n\nNow this notion, thus borrowed from natural science, for the purposes of\na comparative psychology, seems well applicable to that pure feeling of\ninfinite longing which is the most exalted of all man\u2019s aspirations.\nAccording to that idea of it which I have labored to establish, we can\nname this profound inward longing, which nothing earthly can ever\nsatisfy, man\u2019s instinct of eternity--an instinct which often long\nremains, and at the first always is perfectly unconscious of a higher\nvocation and divine destiny.\n\nThe external senses are in one respect the faithful organs and\ninstruments of the understanding in the material world, with which it\nmakes its experience or observations therein, and draws therefrom its\nexperimental science. In another point of view, they may not improperly\nbe termed an applied or practical fancy, which for a definite direction\nexercises itself on the individual phenomena of the material world, for\nthe copying and reproduction of external impressions on the organs, as,\n_e.g._, of the visible form or reduced image in the eye, is in any case\nnothing but an inferior species or a collateral branch of the general\nfaculty of productive imagination. But that new and spiritual sense of\nhigher potency, which in the purely material can only develop itself as\nan exception, or may appear to be veiled therein--I mean the keen\nappreciation by the ear of musical tones, and the eye for picturesque\nbeauty of form in the plastic art--can only be regarded as a\nlightning-spark of fancy passing along and operating through this\nexternal medium and conductor.\n\nOne remark seems of importance in connection with our whole subject; at\nany rate it will not be superfluous, as confirming our assertion that\nthe threefold principle of human life in general is found repeated in\nits single members; and though on a smaller scale, is still manifested\nin the same relation. We observe, therefore, that whatever\nphysiological, or, it may be, anatomical reasons physiologists may have\nfor counting five senses--and they may be perfectly sufficient and\nadequate for the requisitions of physical science, still,\npsychologically, it is far more accurate and also simpler, in a\nphilosophical sense, to limit their number to three. No doubt, in the\nsensation of taste, not only a mechanical contact occurs, but there is\nalso a chemical decomposition of the tasted matter, by which the\nsensation of sweet or bitter is produced. So, too, in smell, although no\nvisible evaporation takes place, still it is a fact that a\u00ebriform\nfloating particles are thrown off from the sensible body, and actually\ntaken in by the sentient. Still these are far from being adequate\ngrounds for making of them two independent senses. Even in the inner\norganic perception of one\u2019s bodily health and ease, and in the opposite\ncase of pain, it is something more than the mere mechanical contact from\nwithout that is therein sensuously perceived. But are we disposed on\nthis account to agree with those who propose to divide still further the\nsingle sense of material touch, and increase the number of the senses?\nWe feel at once that this would be superfluous, since all these proposed\ndivisions are, at least in a psychological point of view, to be regarded\nsimply as modifications--as branches or lower species of one and the\nsame sense. And by the same analogy, then, we may reckon all these\nmaterial senses for one. Thus, then, we have in all but three senses,\npresenting in this smaller and meaner sphere an accurate correspondence\nto the triple man, and the three elements which make up his whole\nbeing--body, soul, and spirit.\n\nOf the outer senses, the eye is incontestably the most spiritual. The\near, whereby we are sentient of sounds, words, and voices, and melody,\nand all music, corresponds to the soul; while the sense of material\nfeeling, which is also destined to be the ministering organ and guardian\nof the health and welfare of the body, is corporeal, and corresponds to\nthe principle of organic life. After the loss both of sight and hearing,\nthe body may both be and long continue healthy and vigorous; whereas a\ndefect in the sense of feeling, so soon, at least, as it became general\nand total, would be the commencement of death, or at least appear to be\nso, since diseases temporarily take this form. However, this third and\ncorporeal sense of feeling is not always entirely external and grossly\nmaterial. It may develop itself, at least by way of exception (since the\nsense of art in the eye and ear is not universal), as a sort of\nintellectual perception, though still a physical feeling of kindred life\nand of the inner light, which often gives rise to a peculiar and\nremarkable immediate natural sense (not to call it an instinct) for the\ninvisible, which is enshrouded within the outward phenomena of life. And\nthough some would fain deny the reality of this capacity, still,\ninasmuch as its existence is a matter of fact, adequately confirmed by\nexperience, as great, if not greater error may be committed in the\nopposite direction. Because this acute natural sense does unquestionably\noften arrive in a most wonderful manner at a just and right\nconclusion--or this instinct make most remarkable divinations--we must\nnot, therefore, exalt it at once into a kind of invisible, infallible,\nand, as it were, omniscient oracle. For such is not to be met with in\nthe path of psychology, nor in the whole circle of faculties which\nbelong to man as man, and least of all in that critical point of\ntransition out of the ordinary perception of consciousness into a\ncomplete state of unconsciousness, and from this again into a clear and\nbright consciousness; which point, even on this account, seeming to\nstand midway between light and shade, exhibits here and there a strong\nresemblance to the world of dreams. Such, in general, is the limitation\nof the human intellect, that reason, as has been already often remarked,\ncan never be regarded as an unerring oracle and infallible organ of\ntruth; neither is the clearest understanding and the most experienced\nartistic sense, even in its own peculiar sphere, always unerring. Still\nless can either the will or the fancy make such a claim. Even the inner\nvoice of _conscience_, although its name alludes directly to an inward\n_knowing_, and the _certainty_ thereof,[69] is not always and\nuniversally recognized as such an infallible guide--otherwise many a\nthinker and writer on the subject would not have set up, as necessary to\nexplain at least some cases, the idea of a mistaken conscience. It\nappears, then, that this natural sense, even where it exists in the\ngreatest strength and clearness, must be always regarded as an entirely\nindividual and peculiar gift, and can only be understood and judged of\nas such. This remark involves, perhaps, the most important\nconsideration, which, in judging of it, we must always keep in view.\nMoreover, even where it really and decidedly exists, whether in a state\nof complete or half-consciousness, or in full conscious wakefulness, it\nalways requires the closest observation and the most watchful care\nbefore it can attain to its full perfection; for its development must be\nextremely slow and gradual. In this respect it must resemble the\nexpansion of that high and spiritual sense of art which forms a bright\nand luminous point within the material organ of the ear or eye--which\nlies enshrouded in the external organ like a spiritual germ, or--as we\nmay justly term the artist\u2019s vision as compared with that of other\nmen--an _eye within the eye_.\n\nWe have now taken a general view of the whole human mind, finding it to\ncomprise four great fundamental faculties of the first class, and then\ncertain secondary ones--viz., memory and conscience, with the appetites\nand external senses, which, at least in the psychological point of view,\nappear to be mixed forms or derivatives of the former. The four first\nare occasionally found combined together in due proportion. When this\ncombination is the natural endowment of genius, they attain to their\nnoblest energy, and even by a lively and careful development, they often\nattain to a most exquisite unity of operation. Mostly, however, we meet\nwith a decided preponderance and exclusive ascendency of some one, which\nin its external effects is only limited and checked by the fact that it\nis thus isolated. The four rarely co-operate together; and, for the most\npart, by their dissension they prove checks and hindrances to each\nother. But not merely in the individual and his personal life and\nconduct do these four fundamental forces display such strength and vital\nenergy in the grand development of the whole human race; and in its\nhistory we may also observe the same fact. Among the Greeks we\nrecognize, distinctly and clearly, a profound and ingenious intellect\npredominating in life, no less than in art and science; in the Romans,\nan irresistible and sovereign force of will, reducing the world to its\nsubjection, and often no less gloriously imposing laws on itself; in the\nChristian middle ages, the lovely devices of fancy giving its bold\nshapes to life itself as well as to art; and lastly, in modern times,\nreason squaring every thing to the measure of its own mind and laws,\ncoupling often, and associating, or, by its middle terms, equating\ntogether the remotest elements, and not less frequently exercising a\ndestructive energy against all, and even against itself. Thus this\nground-scheme of human consciousness, which formed the first result of\nthe psychological investigation of our own selves, meets us here also on\na grander scale as a part of the world\u2019s history, and in the large\ndimensions of successive ages and centuries, as the first striking\nresult in the history of man\u2019s civilization during the twenty-five\ncenturies which, as lying nearest to our own times, we are best\nacquainted with. Much as may be wanting to fill up, both in the\ncommencement and the middle--much, in short, as it would be necessary to\nadd or more closely to define, if it were our object to draw a universal\nsketch of the four historical epochs and ages of the civilization of the\nworld within the limits best known to us, yet for our immediate object\nthese mere hints are sufficient; for they prove how, even in history, in\nits place each of these four fundamental powers of man developed itself\nin the most decided form and displayed a marvelous and uncontrollable\nenergy. Here, too, we see that an intrinsic equilibrium between these\nseveral powers forms in general but the rare and happy exception, while\non the whole it is mostly wanting. Indeed the absence of a complete\nvital union and co-operation is but too painfully felt and perceived in\nthe history of the world.\n\nQuite different, however, is the case with the mixed and mediate\nfaculties of the second rank, which are derived from the former. To\nthese may be applied the remark we lately made on the American tribes\nand languages, in relation to that degradation of the human race so\nespecially noticeable in them, and its still advancing degeneracy and\ndismemberment. The external senses, whose meager powers of cognition are\nbut a sorry make-shift for man\u2019s mind, which in its thirst of knowledge\nwould embrace all existence, the Godhead, and the universe, are narrowly\nrestricted to the material world immediately around him. From such\nslight and unpromising beginnings, science is no doubt occasionally able\nto evolve many a great and noble truth. And even in the external senses\nthemselves a feeling of art or a clear and pure sense of nature gleams\nforth at times, like a little spark of purer light. Still even here many\nand great impediments affect them and their sure application. Memory,\ntoo, is on the whole little more than a mechanical readiness, with\ndifficulty acquired, and soon weakened and blunted. The appetites or\ninstincts are liable to numberless aberrations and passionate excesses.\nAs to conscience, there is but too much reason to fear that it is for\nthe most part in a state of weakness and apathy, dwarfed and mutilated\nin its powers and operations. At least, the remark is no very strange\none that conscience, which has an ear as well as a small, still voice,\ndoes not always hear very quickly, and often fails to hear very much\nthat it might and would do well to listen to. Whether there are not men\nwho in this respect may be considered perfectly deaf, is a question\nwhich can only be answered by an accurate and specific history of human\ncrimes, or by those whose calling it is to study this sad and gloomy\nside of the picture of human life. Such complete moral deadness as this,\nhowever, which happily forms a rare exception in humanity, may, perhaps,\nbe rightly regarded as a kind of moral imbecility for all higher and\nmoral sentiments, even though it is frequently accompanied with great\nclearness of intellect and a high degree of instinctive shrewdness or\ncunning. On the other hand, the cases are probably rare, where the\ndelicate moral sensibility or inward perception of right and wrong among\nnobler natures, is developed in such purity and strength, and carried to\nsuch a height of perfection and stability, as the musical ear and\nartistic delicacy is by great musicians and amateurs of the art.\nProbably, too, it is more suitable, and also more profitable, for human\nnature in its present degraded state, that its higher senses and organs\nfor the invisible should not manifest themselves in us in all their\nextreme and overpowering energy, and for the most part should but shine\nwith a subdued light, or, as it were, gleam through some shrouding\nenvelope. Even of the conscience this is true. At least, it admits not\nof denial that a few moments\u2019 brief enjoyment of a truly bright and\nclear-sighted conscience would be enough to tear the soul forever from\nits present indifference, and to plunge it into an abyss of unspeakable\ngrief, for which earthly language possesses no adequate expression, and\nfor which the human bosom has no suitable notes of lamentation and\nmourning. It is, therefore, only the greater proof of beneficence if the\ninvisible world, and the mysteries of eternal woe which await the lost\nspirit--in comparison with which every earthly pain and all earthly\nsuffering are as nothing--is in mercy shrouded with a veil, which only\nseldom and on rare occasions may lawfully be lifted. Now, generally, it\nis at the uttermost confines of error, in the very depths of\ndegradation, and the lowest level of narrow-mindedness, that the first\nhigher impulse and beginning of happier times exalts itself, opening out\nthe way of return to a newer and better life. The same probably may be\nthe case in our present shackled and distracted consciousness. Those\nvery gross mistakes and aberrations to which the limited and discordant\nfaculties are liable, may furnish the common basis for the growth of\nanother vitally complete and harmonious co-operating consciousness.\n\nFor now that we have, by the enumeration of these eight faculties, made\na complete sketch of the human consciousness, the question may arise,\nnaturally enough, \u201cWhich is the common center of this sphere, or what is\nthere found or demonstrable in this center?\u201d It was with a view to this\nquestion that I attempted to give a refined interpretation of the\nPlatonic idea of the _anamnesis_, taking it to mean the recollection of\na higher love, not so much in a former existence as of and from\neternity. We explained it, consequently, to be a species of\ntranscendental memory. And in this sense we justified it, demonstrating\nat the same time, in that other region which is formed of man\u2019s instinct\nand desires, the existence of the pure idea of infinite longing as the\nhighest effort of the human soul. The sense of art, and profound feeling\nof natural beauty, which belong to true artistic genius, are recognized\nas being in their sphere extraordinary endowments. In the same way no\none will wish to deny that the moral feeling, as the natural expression\nof the inner voice of conscience, constitutes in social life the\nfundamental condition and the surest foundation for all lofty and noble\nsentiments. Thus feeling is that center which we were in search of, of\nthe otherwise divided and distracted consciousness. I might call it the\nmoral feeling, only then it would not be of so universal an application\nas it really is. For the moral aspect constitutes only a single view and\nenergy of the whole, since the feeling of art, and every other kind of\nhigher sentiment, belongs equally to it. With much greater propriety I\nmight term it the inner, by way of distinction from the external and\nmaterial sense of feeling. Less clear than the understanding, and not so\ndecided or definite as the will, with more vitality and life than the\nreason, but at the same time more narrowly limited than the fancy, the\nimmediate sphere of individual existence--feeling, occupies the central\nspace between the four fundamental faculties, as well as between the\nfour intermediate faculties of the second order. It is the apparently\nindifferent, but in truth the full and living center of consciousness,\nwhere every vibration of all the other isolated powers meet and cross,\neither neutralizing each other, or combining together into new life and\nharmonious co-operation It admits, indeed, of the most various degrees\nof development and of every kind of progression, from the simplest,\nalmost indifferent, and passive sense of mere existence, up to the\nhighest and self-sacrificing enthusiasm, which heeds no form or phase of\ndeath, or up to that highest state of rapture which loses itself on the\nvery verge of unconsciousness. In this respect we might well say, with\nthe poet, \u201cFeeling is all.\u201d It is the center of life, and the heart of\nthe whole, each single and individual faculty, in and by itself, being,\nas compared with it, but \u201cnoise, powder, and smoke,\u201d \u201cshrouding the\nbright empyrean.\u201d And yet this center of the consciousness is not,\nhowever, such as to be able, by its inherent force and activity, to\norganize and regulate the whole, holding in union all those otherwise\nisolated powers and states of the human mind. In this respect it is, on\nthe whole, passive. Indeed, viewed in a more accurate light, feeling is\nnot so much an individual and peculiar faculty as an entirely formless\nand indefinite, but still vitally moved and frequently excited,\ncondition of the consciousness, which is to form the point of transition\nfrom its present state of fourfold division, into the living, perfect,\nand harmonious co-operation of its triple state. When reason and fancy\nhave ceased to be divided, being restored to oneness by the living\nfeeling, but are blended together in the thinking and loving soul, we\nhave the basis on which a restoration of the consciousness to harmony\nand perfection must in every case be commenced. When the great faculty\nof the understanding no longer stands aloof by itself, coldly inactive;\nwhen the strong will ceases, by its blind obstinacy, to impede its own\nefforts; when the two have now grown together into an effectual potency\nof the life-enlightened spirit, in which every thought is at once an\nact, and every word a power (a state which is only possible and\nattainable in this center of a higher love)--we have then the second\nstep on the path of return to the original perfection of the\nconsciousness.\n\nBut before I attempt to add to this scale of progression the last term\nwhich is yet wanting, I must episodically introduce and discuss another\nquestion. It relates to the phenomenon of judgment, which as yet has not\nhad its place assigned to it in the consciousness. Is it to be\nconsidered as an independent faculty of the soul, and in what relation\ndoes it stand to the other mental powers? Now, by judgment, in the\nmerely logical sense, nothing more is understood than the connecting of\na predicate with a subject. For instance, in the complete syllogism,\n\u201cAll men are mortal: Caius is a man, therefore Caius is mortal,\u201d the\nminor premise, where the middle or general term is specially applied,\nand, consequently, predicted of an individual, alone forms such a\njudgment. Now, since it is the reason that logically connects thoughts\ntogether, it is not easy to see why this one act, by which the predicate\nand subject are connected, should be separated from all others and set\nup and regarded as an independent and especial faculty. For by so doing\nnothing is explained, and an unnecessary addition is made to the\nsubdivisions (already too numerous) of the human mind and its thinking\npowers. Quite otherwise, however, is it with another class of judgments,\nwhich, in fact, are highly deserving the name. For these in their proper\nsphere actually decide. And their decisions are generally regarded as\nauthoritative because they are based on natural talents, a practiced\neye, a multifarious and extensive experience, a long study of the\nmatters they are concerned about, which in practice render them more or\nless certain and trustworthy. In this case the act of judgment is no\nsimple function of the thinking faculty. It is, rather, the sum of the\nmanifold elements and spiritual perceptions on which it exercises\nitself, and which it presupposes. For the most part it is the highly\ncomplicated and composite result of many fundamental premises. We can\nnot, however, reckon this higher function of judgment in any particular\nsphere as a peculiar mental faculty, since in such a case a special one\nmust needs be assumed for every one; for a right discrimination in any\none sphere does not by any means imply equal certainty in another.\nMoreover, the several species and branches of the general gift are found\nto exist quite separately and distinct from each other. Since, then, the\ngeneral notion of an independent faculty does not afford a satisfactory\nexplanation of the phenomena of judgment, we must seek it in some other\ndirection. And here a few examples will greatly tend to illustrate the\nwhole matter. How much, for instance, is comprised in a genuine artistic\njudgment! It is compounded of a multitude of observations, impressions,\nreflections, and emotions. And yet the opinion resulting from all these\nis simply one, and definitely comprised in one simple sentence. Suppose\nthe opinion pronounced to be, that this or that beautiful and ancient\npainting is not from the master to whom it is commonly ascribed, but\nbelongs, rather, to this or that other school. Of course I am not\nsupposing the case where such an assertion can be proved historically by\ndocumentary evidence. In such a case the decision would turn on a matter\nof fact, and not on judgment--at least, not on true artistic judgment.\nThe judgment in question must principally, if not entirely, be drawn\nfrom the work itself--from the style of the handling, and similar\nindications, by a practiced and almost infallible tact. So various, in\nshort, and manifold are the observations on which such an artistic\njudgment depends, that they often furnish matter for a whole book, or,\nat least, for an essay. Whenever, however, it is really artistic\ndiscernment, and not merely historical knowledge, that is involved, we\ninvariably meet with some one point or other which does not admit of\nmathematical demonstration, and on which the ultimate decision must be\nleft to each man\u2019s personal judgment, or that immediate perception which\nforms a feeling of art. Most justly, therefore, does our language\nclosely connect the two expressions. For a true artistic judgment\n[_Kunsturtheil_] is itself nothing else than this intuitive feeling of\nart [_Kunstgefuhl_] applied to a special case or subject, and brought\nout in perfect clearness and comprised in a definite shape. Just so it\nis in the sphere of social life with regard to the judgment on what is\nproper--the feeling, in short, of propriety. Here, for instance, it is\nno uncommon question whether this or that word, spoken in some delicate\nposture of affairs, was really necessary, exactly what was right to be\nsaid and thoroughly suitable, or altogether ill-chosen and unseasonable.\nOr with regard to some step still in contemplation, it may be disputed\nwhether such or such a method be the best and the most appropriate. How\nmany little niceties and delicate considerations are here involved,\nwhich a fine feeling can alone enter into! What various and intricate\ncontingencies, for which it is often difficult to find words\nsufficiently expressive, must such a judgment take into account, in its\ndeliberation on such matters! And in social converse on such instances,\nis not the casting-voice generally left to the acute sensibilities and\nquick tact of woman?\n\nFor in all such cases the decision invariably depends upon an immediate\nfeeling of propriety, which, though first called forth and developed by\nthe social intercourse of life, is in truth original and innate. Such,\nindeed, it must ever be. For where it does not exist naturally, it can\nnever be learned nor artificially acquired. The original want of this\ninward feeling can never be replaced by any varnish of external culture,\nhowever brilliant. And the case is also the same even in the sphere of\nscience; for instance, in the shrewd, searching glance by which the\nskillful physician takes his diagnosis of disease; or in the clear,\nperspicacious sagacity which enables the judge, in some highly\ncomplicated suit or doubtful criminal trial, to seize the right point on\nwhich truth and justice hinge. For in judicial cases, with much that\nadmits of demonstrative proof, or which, as matter of fact, is\nunquestioned, there is still more where nothing but this psychological\npenetration, long practiced in such matters, and to which past\nexperience has given confidence in itself, can immediately see through\nall the sophistical wiles not only of the pleadings and the skillful\nadvocate, but also of the litigant parties themselves, or of the crafty\ncriminal.\n\nThe same remark applies also to a sphere, apparently, indeed, related to\nthe one last mentioned, but, in fact, essentially different and widely\nremote from it. I allude to the unerring tact of the experienced\nstatesman, by which he not only penetrates, through his knowledge of\nmankind, the political designs of others, but is also enabled to read\nthe great events of the world and their tendencies, and infallibly to\nseize the right moment for action.\n\nIn all these instances (and many others might easily be added) it is\nupon an immediate perception or feeling of what is right that the\ndecision finally turns. And this fact is almost confessed by such\nexpressions as a \u201cpenetrating glance,\u201d an \u201cunerring tact,\u201d and many\nsimilar ones to be found in our own and other highly cultivated\nlanguages. Such a judgment may, therefore, not inaptly be termed an\nintellectual feeling; for it implies the existence of intellect. And\nthis not only as an inborn natural talent, for the special domain within\nwhich the judgment is to be exercised, but, moreover, a certain\ndevelopment of the understanding, strengthened by long practice, and\nconfirmed by varied experience in the particular province. But still,\nwith this intellectual element there is invariably mixed a feeling, or\nimmediate perception, of what is right and just. It is this, in short,\nthat properly decides and makes the opinion ultimately expressed to be a\njudgment. On this account I can not attribute the act of judgment\nexclusively to the understanding, for the former involves something more\nthan the simple intellection of a single object. It comprises, at the\nsame time, a rigorous distinction between two objects, or a decision\nbetween yes and no. Perhaps, therefore, the best and most perfect\nexplanation of judgment would be to call it an intelligent feeling of a\ncorrect discrimination, comprised and expressed, and also communicated\nto others, in a general form. The last-mentioned quality, however, does\nnot always belong to the judgment, since it often remains merely\ninternal; at least, it does not form an essential or necessary part of\nit.\n\nThus, then, this digression (though, in truth, it is not properly a\ndigression, since the question concerning the faculty of judgment, and\nthe position it occupies in the whole soul, is essentially connected\nwith the consideration of the latter) has again led us back to feeling,\nas the living center of the entire consciousness, where all its extreme\ntendencies converge and reunite. Here it is that the dull and\nunpromising state of calm, contemplative indifference meets together\nwith the highest excitement of energetic activity, the lowest and most\ninsignificant states of consciousness being found there, as well as the\nmost exalted and most sublime--the enthusiasm that carries all before\nit, no less than the clear self-possession in the spirit\u2019s feeling of a\ndiscernment of truth, or, as I called the judgment, an intelligent\nperception of what is right and just. In this advance of feeling in the\nmind or spirit [_geistigen_] up to that height of self-possession and\nclearness at which it receives the name of judgment, the former bears\nthe same relation to the latter as the mere thought, in its first vague\ngenerality, does to the notion which I have defined to be a thought\nperfectly divided into its organic members, and mathematically measured\nboth inwardly and outwardly--both, _i.e._, as to extent and\ncomprehension.\n\nNow, this inward feeling, taken in the full comprehensive sense of the\nword, is the same as what I previously called sense, when I spoke of the\nhuman consciousness as consisting of spirit, soul, and sense. In these\nplaces, however, you will remember, I reserved to a future opportunity\nthe further and closer determination of the relation in which this\ngeneral sense stands to the other two elements of the mind. But inasmuch\nas the notion of sense always carries us back to a special kind of\nsensation, limited and only open to a special sphere of objects, the\nexpression of an inward feeling seems far more strictly appropriate to\nthe third element of the mind. For the term feeling, by its vague\ngenerality, comprises all objects of consciousness, or, in other words,\nall kinds and species of a higher sense. Now, this higher and\nall-embracing internal feeling is the starting-point from which we must\nset out if we would hope to arrive at the complete reunion and living\nco-operation which marks the consciousness in its original threefold\nstate. It is not, however, the key-stone of consummation. It is simply\nthe foundation on which all the rest must be built, or it is the deep\nfountain out of which rich nourishment springs up on all sides for the\nother two elements of the mind, viz., the soul and the spirit. The\nlatter two, in fact, constitute the whole essence of the inner man. Now,\nsince the spirit is an active faculty, while the soul, though possessed\nof a creative vitality, is on the whole mostly passive, their undivided\nunion and constant co-operation may, by way of figure, be designated as\nan inner intellectual union or marriage in the consciousness. Indeed, we\nmight not inaptly explain man\u2019s essence as consisting in the spirit\nbeing wedded to its soul, and in the soul being thereupon clothed with\nan organic body. But, to pursue the same metaphor: this marriage between\nspirit and soul is not always a happy and harmonious union. Whenever the\nsoul, drawn off by every external impression and attraction, loses\nitself in the manifold ways and by-ways of the material world, or\nwanders to an unsafe distance with fancy, as she roams at liberty amid\nthe things of sense; whenever the spirit, trusting to its own inherent\npowers, follows their dictates alone, and recognizes nothing above, and\ndisregards all that is without, itself, then this marriage is invariably\ndistracted by passionate discord and unquiet. Here, perhaps, as well as\nin the external world, the words apply: \u201cWhat God hath joined together,\nlet no man put asunder.\u201d A complete and total divorce is indeed scarcely\nconceivable, such is the coherence of the living consciousness. By death\nalone is it possible to be brought about, or perhaps also by that\nflaming sword of the Holy Word, which it is said pierces to the bone and\nmarrow, dividing soul and spirit. Where the first bond of union was\ngiven by God, it must be maintained and continually strengthened by\nrecurring to this supreme center, if it is to be permanent and to look\nfinally for perfection. This is only possible where the spirit\nrecognizes a divine standard above itself, and where, in all its\nthoughts, works, and deeds, it acts upon this exalted principle, and\nwhere also the soul seeks before all things this eternal center of love,\nand is ever reverting to it. In such a case both soul and spirit are\nunited in God, or at least are ever yearning for such a union. And, in\ntruth, nothing more is required of man than what has always and every\nwhere been required of him, though, alas! this requisition has seldom\nbeen fully realized. God, then, is the keystone which holds together the\nwhole human consciousness; and this is the point to which our\ninvestigation has, step by step, been leading us. And now our notion of\nthe whole scheme and delineation of the human mind is complete.\n\nIts general basis and outline, such as we find it within ourselves, is\nformed by the four fundamental faculties first described, together with\nfour others of a lower and secondary order. Feeling--_i.e._, the inner\nfeeling, comprising every higher form thereof, is its center. It is that\nby which we first are awakened to its present existence, and also at the\nsame time the point at which we pass into a higher state, wherein its\noperation will be more vivid and its union more harmonious. But as to\nthe threefold life of the inner man, it consists in spirit, soul, and\nGod, as the third, in whom the first two are united, or at least must\nseek their union.\n\nIn proportion, therefore, as this key-stone is removed from the human\nmind, it falls a prey to discord and the isolation of its several\npowers; nay more, the latter sink continually lower and lower, and fall\nfrom one depth of degradation to another. And when occasionally, as in\nthe might and strength of genius, there occurs a preponderance of some\none faculty, it exercises for the most part a destructive tendency\nagainst the harmony of the whole, checking, if not suppressing\naltogether, the free developments of other powers as necessary and as\nessential as itself.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VI.\n\n\nAccording to that outline of the human mind which we have just sketched,\nits whole alphabet, so to speak, consists but of twelve letters or\nprimary elements. These are formed first of all into the stem-syllables\nor radicals of higher truth and knowledge, out of which again, in the\ninner language of true science, entire words and connected propositions\nare constructed. And these again must further combine into one universal\nkey and all-embracing fundamental word of life. In this internal\nalphabet of the consciousness, however, there is one point on which a\nfew words of further explanation are necessary to a right understanding.\nAnd it is one of the very highest consequence, since it concerns the\nfinal aim or even the first foundation, being nothing less than the\ncenter of life and perfection of unity. God, it is said, must form the\nkey-stone in the arch of the whole consciousness; and no other real\npoint of union can be found. But now God is without, or, rather, above,\nthe human mind. How, then, are we to designate that by and through which\nthis center of unity, which we feel and acknowledge to be raised far\nabove us, is to be seized and retained, so that it may livingly operate\nwithin us? I know no other way of indicating it than by the word\n_idea_--the idea, viz., of the divine and of the Divinity Himself. As,\nthen, feeling forms the common center of life for the lower and ordinary\nconsciousness of man and its eight elementary faculties, so it is this\nidea that, as the third internal principle, makes up, together with\nspirit and soul, the higher threefold living consciousness. But by this\nidea we mean not a merely speculative or abstract and dead idea, but an\neffectually operative and living idea of a God, who, having life in\nHimself, is the source from which all life proceeds. In its outward\nform, and as compared with the other functions of the consciousness or\nacts of the thinking faculty, this idea is a notion. At the same time,\nhowever, it is also a figure or a symbol. For it is only figuratively\nthat that which is not so much inconceivable, as rather transcends\nconception, being far above and beyond all possible notions, can be at\nall indicated. It is by symbols alone that such can be conceived or\ncomprehended. Indeed, the word _idea_, in its original Greek sense,\nalludes to some kind of visible figure and figurative shape lying, as it\nwere, within the notion itself. All that is highest of every species can\nonly be apprehended by such a mode of thinking as is at the same time\nboth logical and symbolical--in which the logical thought of reason and\nthe symbolical of imagination--the scientific, viz., or of that which in\ncognition is the inward productive faculty, are once more in unison,\nbeing thoroughly combined or wholly blended together. The idea, however,\nis not merely a conception, which is a notion, and yet, at the same\ntime, as properly transcending all notion, a figure or symbol; but\nlooking to the inward form of the consciousness, rather than to the\nobject itself, it is a conception which is also a feeling. Indeed,\nwithout the supposition of the latter it can not exist, and, strictly\nspeaking, is not even conceivable. That this is the case, the following\ninstance will fully show: How could we, if we wished it, suggest the\nidea of true love, or make it clear and comprehensible to one who had\nnever felt any thing of the kind, and was, in short, totally incapable\nof such a feeling?\n\nProperly, however, and in scientific rigor, there is only one idea truly\nso called. And that is the one idea of the Godhead. All else that we\ncall ideas, whether in this higher signification, or in a kindred and\nsimilar sense--like the innate ideas, without number, of which the\nPlatonic philosophy speaks, or that idea of true love which I lately\nalluded to (having previously made frequent use of such expressions, and\nintending to do so again whenever they appear calculated to lead to\naccuracy of distinction or vividness of indication)--all such can only\nbe called ideas in a certain sense and analogy. Such a mode of speech,\nhowever, is allowable whenever we are treating of such notions and\nconceptions as stand in any relation to the higher and divine. For,\ncontemplated from this spiritual center of the divine idea, they shine\nin a new light. Being purified in its flame, they seem to be elevated\nand brought many degrees nearer to this one supreme idea of the living\nGod, in all His perfection and beauty. In all its fullness and\ncompleteness, however, this idea can not truly be said to be innate in\nthe human mind. At most there are there only the elements of it, viz.,\nthe remembrance of eternal love (which Plato\u2019s doctrine of the\nanamnesis, when purified, amounts to), the infinite longing, the voice\nof conscience; and then, completing the number, as the fourth element,\ncomes the genuine and exalted enthusiasm for art and natural beauty. All\nthese higher elements, however, of the divine in man, form but a weak\necho of the whole. They are, as it were, but so many faint dying notes,\nor the first infantine lispings of this one divine idea, which in its\nfull force and brightness must be given, imparted, and revealed; while\nthat which is thus given and experienced, and indeed personally\nexperienced, can only be embraced, understood, and retained by faith\nthrough love.\n\nHe who has never had any feeling or experience of God, who is a stranger\nto love, and incapable of faith of any kind, to such a one, so long as\nhe remains in this state, it would be lost labor to speak of God, or of\nthe divine idea, with all that flows immediately from it. This idea may\nindeed exist as a rational notion necessarily emanating from our own\ncogitations. But in this form, as the creature of our own conception,\nbut not as a given and revealed, it is little better than the fixed\nreflection of ourselves--the objective projection of our own Me. For\nsuch in all purely rational systems it ever is--emptied and utterly void\nof all effectual living power, and of all truth and reality. But when\nthe idea of God has been received by a higher experience (and thus only\ncan it be vitally imparted), then may we in truth call it divine. For it\nis no longer the barren, unfruitful idea that it is in all other cases,\nbut it contains in itself an effectual living and life-giving energy.\n\nThe fundamental elements of the human consciousness are, then, twelve in\nnumber. The first universal basis is formed by the eight special\nfaculties, with love as their living center. To these must be added the\nthree principles of the higher inward life--soul, spirit, and the idea\nof the divine--such as we have accurately defined and characterized it.\nThese together I have called the alphabet of the consciousness. And this\nalphabet, like a fixed and established logical notion, I shall\nhenceforth adopt in this precise shape and number, making it, without\nany essential variation, the basis of my subsequent remarks. It is, no\ndoubt, of great advantage, and even necessary for the elucidation of any\nmatter, rigorously to separate the several elements of the general\nnotion, duly arranging them, and accurately preserving their number.\nStill we may be overanxious in this respect. And, indeed, language\nitself is not always very precise in its designations; and the\ndifferent dialects of human speech, with their fluctuating phraseology,\noften assign a different rank and position to the parts of the same\nwhole. Much, for instance is set down as an independent faculty, which,\nmore correctly regarded, is but a state--or even only a passage from one\nstate into another--or it may be merely a natural talent; or, perhaps,\nsome such happy coincidence and harmonious co-operation of several\npowers of the soul as constitutes true genius. An instance of this kind\ngave rise to that question which so lately engaged our attention,\nwhether the judgment is rightly to be considered a special faculty; and,\nif not, how is it in strictness of truth to be designated? And in a\nsimilar respect, I now find occasion to say a few words on wit, as being\nnearly related to judgment (if the latter be, as I have explained it, an\n_intelligent feeling_), and as holding an intermediate position between\njudgment and genius. For now we have given a complete sketch in outline\nof the whole consciousness, it is desirable to fill in, as completely as\npossible, all the lesser and nicer features. In other words, it is\nexpedient to assign their proper place in the entire consciousness to\nthose properties of soul and spirit which are not so much simple or\nfirst principles as complex phenomena of a secondary order, and\ncompounded of several distinct elements. Now wit, like judgment, is an\nintelligent feeling, marked, however, with the qualities of\nimmediateness and pertinency. But it is not, like the judgment,\nassociated always with a special knowledge and insight. On the contrary,\nwit often arises from a certain _na\u00efve_ ignorance of the entire province\nto which belongs the object on which it exercises itself. We might\nalmost say that the disposition to wit consists in a _universally_\nintelligent feeling, for its quickness of perception is confined to no\nparticular department of life, but exercises itself on life in general,\nand finds therein its proper arena. But this describes rather the notion\nof what is commonly called \u201csound sense,\u201d or \u201cnatural intelligence,\u201d\nwhich, in itself, is not wit, and is often found existing totally\nunaccompanied with the latter. Nevertheless, this at least is manifest,\nthat if an individual be said to be entirely devoid of judgment--which\nis nearly the same as saying that he possesses no _intelligent feeling_\nin any species or form--it would be in vain in such a person to look for\nmuch, if any, wit. That, moreover, which forms the chief characteristic\nof wit, and essentially distinguishes it from judgment, is its\nunconsciousness. On this very account children even, if they be at all\nlively, are often witty. And, indeed, this childish wit forms, perhaps,\none of the most graceful of its many forms and kinds. To prove how\ngreatly this childish wit depends on its very unconsciousness, we may\nappeal to a fact, which, moreover, will teach us at the same time not to\nlay too much stress on the fact, if children, even at an early age,\nappear very clever and witty. It is no unfrequent observation that when\nchildren, by the development of their understandings, attain to greater\nclearness of consciousness, their wit suddenly ceases, and their\ncharacter assumes a touch of dry, solemn, but still childish\nearnestness. That genial unconsciousness which ever remains the property\nof true wit, both of social conversation and of poetry, at once forms\nand attests its affinity with genius. But, still, wit alone is not a\ncomplete creative power. By itself it rarely gives birth to aught. It is\nbut a single element, which is added as the last finishing grace to all\nthe creative productions of fancy, and to every other work in which a\nfertile and original mind gives utterance to its thoughts. On this\naccount it manifests itself in the most varied and opposite forms. It is\nnot limited to social conversation, or to art and poetry, but even in\nphilosophy--and the Socratic especially--assumes a peculiar and\nimportant place as the essential ingredient of irony.\n\nNow the variety of forms in which wit so richly displays itself is a\nfurther point of resemblance between it and judgment. Still this common\nproperty has a different cause in each. The immediate judgment, or\nintelligent feeling, presents so great a variety of forms, because the\nhuman mind is not equally conversant in every province of thought, being\ngenerally familiar with some one in particular. But in the case of wit,\nit is its very versatility, by which it suits itself to and insinuates\nitself in every object of intellectual attention, that is the source of\nits manifold diversity. But that it would carry us far beyond our\npresent limits, it would be highly instructive in a scientific point of\nview to take a survey of all the several forms in which this mental\nquality gushes forth in all the rich fullness of genius.\n\nBut now, since our exposition of the human mind has been hitherto\ncarried on by means of a parallelism with the idea of language, it will\nnot be out of place to make a few remarks here on the real alphabet, or\nthe elementary letters of different languages, as bearing a relation to\nwhat we have called the alphabet of the consciousness. For the former\npresents more than one remarkable analogy with the higher principle of\nthe inward life, and its whole organic framework. Properly, syllables,\nand not letters, form the basis of language. They are its living roots,\nor chief stem and trunk, out of which all else shoots and grows. The\nletters, in fact, have no existence, except as the results of a minute\nanalysis; for many of them are difficult, if not impossible, to\npronounce. Syllables, on the contrary, more or less simple, or the\ncomplex composites of fewer or more letters, are the primary and\noriginal data of language. For the synthetical is in every case anterior\nto the elements into which it admits of resolution. The letters,\ntherefore, first arise out of the chemical decomposition of the\nsyllables. But the results of this analytical process are very different\nin different languages, as is proved by the difference of results in the\nvariety of alphabets. While in our own we reckon four-and-twenty\nletters, in many others the number is far greater. In those oriental\nlanguages nearest akin to our own, they amount to more than thirty;\nwhile the Indian family counts as many as fifty.\n\nIt forms no easy problem to indicate most of these by our European\ncharacters; and to pronounce them requires the organs of speech to be\nmore than ordinarily flexible. On the other hand, profound and\nphilosophical inquires into language, by rejecting all mere\nmodifications of harshness or softness in the same sound, and whatever\nis manifestly a mere variation of the same letter, or a mere compound of\nsimpler tones, have reduced the whole alphabet to ten primary elements.\nAccording to this system, which has not been established without great\nacuteness, so much at least is evident, that properly there are but\nthree vowels,[70] instead of five, as we usually count them, the E being\na softened I, and U a deadened or faint O. The diphthongs, and other\ntones intermediate between the simple vowels, in which the German is so\nrich, are evidently to be considered but as so many musical transitions\nfrom one to the other. We may here appeal to the Hebrew, as being in its\nsystem of letters, notwithstanding its other ancient oriental features,\nhighly simple and profoundly significant and coherent.[71] Its\ntwo-and-twenty characters may be divided into two orders. The first and\nhigher, as I would term it, contains the three vowels, the aspirates (of\nwhich more by and by), and then the simplest and softest (they might\nalmost be called the child\u2019s) consonants, B, D, G. The twelve letters of\nthe second contain all the other grosser, more corporeally-sounding\nconsonants. Usually, indeed, all letters, and especially consonants, are\nclassed into labials, linguals, and dentals, according to the organs\nprincipally employed in their utterance, distinguishing, on the same\nprinciple, certain nasals and gutturals. But however correct this\nclassification may be in an anatomical point of view, and\nphysiologically considered, still, for that parallel, which is grounded\nin nature itself, between speech and thought, and for the analogy which\nsubsists between man\u2019s inward and outward language, it is both\nunsatisfactory and uninstructive. For it looks exclusively to a single\naspect. The ordinary grammatical division also of letters into vowels\nand consonants, is at least incomplete. It would be far more correct to\nassociate with them a third class of aspirates. For the latter may be\ndistinguished from the former by many a characteristic property, even\nthough they are indicated by signs which resemble those of the other\nclass and often pass into and may be resolved into them. In the various\nalphabetical systems the aspirates stand out most individually. They\nassume the most diversified forms, even in their mode of notation, and\nit would almost seem as if the ethereal breathing which floats around\nthem refused to be corporeally fixed and confined with as much easiness\nas the other elements of language. In some languages, as the Greek, for\ninstance, according to the extant system, which belongs not to the\nearliest period of its development, the principal aspiration is not\ndenoted by a letter, but is indicated in the same way as an accent. In\nthe oriental, and, generally, in all ancient languages, the aspirates,\naccording to the different forms into which they enter, hold a very\nimportant place. It almost seems that the more aspirated a language is,\nthe nearer it is to its original state. It is also remarkable, that\nwherever this element appears in undiminished vigor, it gives to the\nwhole language a character of antiquity and grandeur, and lends to it a\npervading tone of spiritual gravity, such as has been observed in the\nArabic, and prevails also in a high degree in the Spanish; though,\nindeed, an undue prevalence of this high and solemn note, unrelieved by\nothers, is apt to degenerate into monotony. In our own German the\naspirates were originally far more numerous than they are at present.\nAnd, generally, the more a language is softened down and refined by\ndaily use and conversation, the more it loses this impress of antiquity.\nAnd it even happens with some, as with the French, for instance, that\nthe aspirates cease to be articulated, even though they are still\nmarked.\n\nNow, while the aspirates form the spiritual element in the whole system\nof elementary sounds, in the vowels, on the other hand, predominates the\nsoul-full voice of song. These, in short, form the musical ensouling\nprinciple of language. The less a language is overladen with consonants,\nand the more fully the simple vowels sound out, the better adapted is it\nfor music and songs. The consonants, on the other hand, which only in\npart imitate sound, make up the material element of language. They are,\nno doubt, necessary to the richness of a language, and its variety of\nexpression; nevertheless, when they greatly predominate, they render it\ncorporeal and heavy.\n\nNow this remarkable analogy between this division of the alphabet into\naspirates, vowels, and consonants, and the triple principle of human\nlife and operation, as consisting of spirit, of soul, and of body, or of\nbodily exterior, I could not but notice in passing, and throw out as\ndistinctly as possible.\n\nBut now this analogy and parallel between speech and consciousness\npresents another view of the matter, which it appears desirable to\nconsider. In the alphabet of the human consciousness, which furnishes\nthe several elements out of which syllables and then words are framed,\nwhich again form the first elements of all man\u2019s higher knowledge, I\nwould pre-eminently consider as its vowels those eternal feelings of the\nGodlike which have their foundation in the very nature of man. Now it is\nusual to designate these fundamental feelings of man as faith, hope,\nand love (charity). But, however customary it may be to class the three\ntogether, the intrinsic connection between them is not easily pointed\nout. And yet, perhaps, if we have recourse to another analogy with the\nvisible world, it will help us to trace this bond of union. This method\nwill probably be both easier and simpler than a direct refutation of\nerroneous views on the subject, or any critical enumeration of elements\nwhich in the psychological apprehension are incorrectly associated with\nthem. Now, these three feelings or properties, or states of the\nconsciousness, may be regarded as so many organs for the cognition or\nthe perception, or, if the term be preferred, for the suggestion of the\ndivine. In this respect, then, and relatively to their different modes\nof apprehension, we may compare them with the external senses and their\norgans. Thus love, in its first soul-exciting contact, abiding\nattraction, and finally complete union, strikingly corresponds to the\nexternal sense of feeling. Faith is the inner ear of the spirit which is\nopen to, catches up, and retains the imparted word of a higher\nrevelation. Hope, however, is the eye, whose clear vision discerns, even\nin the remote distance, the objects of its profound and ardent longing.\nThe latter brings us to a thoroughly vivid idea (or, rather, presupposes\nthe existence) of faith, according to which it is no arbitrary and\nartificial idea, but one real throughout and vital. Although intelligent\nand spiritual, it is still a feeling, and ultimately rests also on a\nfeeling, that, viz., of love, out of which, as its root and foundation,\nit arises. Indeed, faith is nothing else than love, through a pure will,\nmaintained with consistency of character; and this applies to it even in\nits nobler relations among human things, and does not apply to it merely\nin a higher and divine reference.\n\nIn the last age (if it be not also in the present), the notion of faith\nwas taken in a very different sense, and the phraseology arising from\nthat view is, in part, at least, still prevalent. On this account a few\nexplanatory words are necessary for the sake of caution and distinction.\nThe following is the historical occasion or scientific origin of this\nother notion of faith. At a late period of so-called enlightenment, in\nthe midst of which, however, many grave misconceptions prevailed, reason\nwas set up as the sole authority. As the highest and greatest of man\u2019s\nendowments, it was almost deified, whatever did not appear at once and\neasily explicable by reason, being forthwith and indiscriminately\npronounced a prejudice, and, as such, to be got rid of with all\ndiligence. In this state of things, modern German philosophy commenced\nits career with attempting to show that this sovereign reason, which had\nset itself forth as the first and highest in man, is extremely\ndefective, and comes far short of the requisitions both of science and\nlife. The position was honestly and earnestly maintained, and the proof\nworked out with tolerable completeness. Subsequently, however, its\nvalidity has been questioned, or only admitted under many limitations\nand qualifications. But even this modified praise can not be bestowed on\nthe scientific remedy with which men hoped to supply the defects of\nreason, and to cure the old and universal evils of rationalism. For, in\nfact, the method by which they sought to get rid of this great and\nmanifest deficiency was simply by suddenly opening an unlimited credit\nfor the reason, which going beyond all actual need, and based either on\narbitrary assumption, or a confiding generosity, should be sufficient\nfor all emergencies. But this expedient, in the existing state and panic\nof the rational market, could not remove the evil; it only exaggerated\nit. In a word, it was the same old reason which (its claim to\nsupersensible honors having been rejected) had been just thrust out of\nthe temple of science by the front entrance, that, under the disguise of\nfaith, was now being smuggled in by the postern. It was but a mere\narbitrary substitute for reason that had assumed this new name. Now such\na faith as this requires to be carefully distinguished from that living\nfaith which springs from and is founded on love. For this purpose I have\nattempted to show, from the very outset, the great difference between\nthe two.\n\nNow, if occasionally I have felt myself called upon to set bounds to and\nto protest against the illimitable requirements and assumptions of\nreason in science, my remarks have been directed, not against reason\nitself, but chiefly against that absoluteness with which it pretends to\nreign paramount. In our German tongue--and since the comparative\nparallel of thought and language is a part of the general plan of our\npresent exposition, this trifling but not insignificant philological\nremark will not here be inappropriate--in our vernacular tongue, the\nclose limitation of the thing is furnished by the term itself. For as\nunderstanding [_Verstand_] comes from the verb to understand\n[_verstehen_], and implies the existence of an object which stands\nbefore the mind, to be penetrated and searched through by it, so reason\n[_Vernunft_] implies a _Vernehmen_, a perception or apprehension, and is\nitself nothing else than the organ of spiritual perception, which is\nthreefold: 1st, of a higher law and rule above us and given to us; 2d,\nof the inward voice of conscience and the pure self-consciousness within\nus; and, 3d, of other rational thought around and beside itself. Now it\nis only against that reason which is unwilling to perceive any thing,\nor, at least, any thing beside or above itself, that all my objections\nare directed. For when the reason refuses to acknowledge aught above\nitself, but absolutely rejects it, then will it estimate but little\nwhatever is beside itself. At any rate it will never be eminently\nsuccessful in its attempts to comprehend or understand it. In this case,\nit will continually make the greatest mistakes and blunders in its views\nand conceptions of that even which it really finds and perceives, or at\nleast believes to discover within itself. Reason, in itself, and in its\ndue limits, is, indeed, but one of man\u2019s various fundamental powers;\nstill, in the present state of his divided and discordant consciousness,\nit is a highly essential faculty. Like all the others, consequently,\nwhich severally do but present so many different aspects of man\u2019s\nexternal and internal life, reason, when it oversteps its due limits, is\nliable to great, nay, the greatest of aberrations. But it might here be\nasked, are not the possible aberrations of fancy still more dangerous?\nWe must answer, Without doubt they are; and this is the only answer we\ncan give to the question put thus generally. But in the special\nreference to our own age, there is far greater and more frequent\noccasion to call attention at present to the evils produced by the\nerrors of reason, than to warn men anxiously against the possible abuses\nof fancy. And this for the simple fact, that of all the powers of the\nhuman mind, which, when isolated, are, more or less, destructive in\ntheir action, reason has, in the later ages, and in our times,\nespecially, been decidedly predominant. Consequently, we have on all\nsides before our eyes obvious and instructive examples of the mazes and\nabyss of error, fatal no less to science than to morals, into which\nreason not only falls herself, but hurries all that come within her\ninfluence, when, having once started from a false position, she has\nfollowed out this wrong tendency with full rigor of consequence. We see\nin it the cause of all the catastrophes of the age, and the fearful\nstruggle of party. The dangers which might arise from the exclusive\nascendency of fancy are, in our generation, less likely to be general,\nand they are less threatening, less urgent. And the explanation of this\nfact is equally simple. The occurrence of lofty and genius-gifted powers\nof imagination is extremely rare; and, at any rate, many instances are\nseldom met with at one and the same time. Here, therefore, it is often a\nfalse alarm; the threatening clouds quickly disperse, the blue heavens\nagain shine forth, and the wide horizon of the all-spanning reason once\nmore becomes bright, and even clearer than we had ever known it before.\nAnd if occasionally an overabundance of genius-gifted power does\nmanifest itself in the domain of fancy, the general effect that results\nfrom it is, at most, a recognition of its excellence, which, however,\nonly slowly and with difficulty gains possession of men\u2019s minds. This\nfeeling may, no doubt, sometimes amount to a profound admiration, whose\nlanguage, sparkling with the exquisite ornaments and flowery tropes of\nexaggeration, may seem to border closely on a deification of its object;\nstill this feeling, however great and universal it may appear, is very\nfar from that height of enthusiasm which wholly engrosses and carries\nthe mind along with it. Indeed, for the most part, it carefully avoids\nand keeps aloof from such a state.\n\nIn short, however much any particular age may admire or even worship\ngreat powers of genius or art, it is very rarely indeed, if ever,\ncarried away by its partial and erroneous tendencies, or its arbitrary\nand quaint peculiarities. At least, the same party zeal is not to be\nwitnessed here that divides both science and life between the rival\nsystems of absolute reason. However, the consideration of the\nprejudicial effects of the despotic ascendency of the reason has, almost\nof necessity, brought before us the somewhat connected topic of the\nhinderances which art may occasion to the pursuit of the highest truth\nand certainty. We will, therefore, now examine the evils which arise\nwhenever art, as the executive power in the region of fancy, usurps an\nundue authority over the rest of the consciousness, and when, in its\njudgment of things, taking an undue position in some merely poetical or\nartistic view, it assumes a reality that belongs not to it, and dreams\nof finding in itself the final cause and firm basis of all existence.\n\nFor the right exposition of that notion of faith, hope, and love, which\nwe made the foundation of the knowledge of all higher truth, it was,\nabove all things, necessary that we should carefully and accurately\ndiscriminate between the true living faith which is grounded on and\nsprings out of love, and that spurious faith which reason arbitrarily\ndevises to cover its own weakness and deficiencies. In the same way it\nremains for us to point out the true end of hope, establishing the\ninternal foundation of its idea, and making out, at the same time, its\nintimate relation to art, as it arises from its connection therewith and\nwith time. Now, as all high hope stands in close union with man\u2019s inmost\ncharacter, and forms a principal element of his being, his whole life\nand activity being based on hope, so likewise in art--so faithful a\nmirror is it of human nature--man\u2019s holiest hopes form the chief aim and\nthe animating soul of its representations. A perfectly faithful, though\nartistically expressed, imitation of a love higher than any actual\nmanifestation of the feeling (of whatever nature it be), may simply, of\nitself, constitute a work of art, and, indeed, is its natural\nobject-matter. But still, isolated and by itself, it would furnish but a\nfragmentary feeling for the fancy, without a true beginning, and without\nend or aim, or proper conclusion. Faith is but, as it were, a straight\nline--the rule of sentiment for this life, of expectation for the other.\nBut now, in the mind of man, above every actual love and every definite\nfaith, there is a _superabundance_--if we may so speak--of feelings,\nthoughtfully forecasting, ardently loving, and hoping, even beyond hope\nitself--of thoughts, dreaming, at least, of a higher truth than is to be\nmet with on earth.\n\nAnd this divine superabundance in the human soul, if I may be allowed\nthis bold expression, is properly the sublime matter, the invisible\nobject and spiritual essence of true art and poetry. Not that this inner\nsoul, this vital breath of high art and poetry, must, even in the\noutward form, invariably express itself (as it does in music generally)\nas a feeling of longing. Neither must it in its definite direction to\nthe future, always manifest itself externally in the form of hope; and,\nconsequently, speak only in lyrical strains, as the music of enthusiasm.\nSuch a limitation would, indeed, have a most monotonous effect. On the\ncontrary, even in a highly-finished picture of some actual and present\nscene, this idea of hope, as the soul which animates the whole, may be\npresent, and like an invisible thread of higher life, be interwoven in\nit. And this envelopment, or, rather, this veiled manifestation and\nindirect revelation of spirit, is often to be found, not only in\ncreations which are permanently artistic, but also in those that are\nprofoundly poetical and enthusiastic. Even the sorrowful remembrance of\na by-gone foretime of infantine innocence, and of sublime grandeur, is\nproperly nothing but a reflection of this divine hope, and, in a free\nand comprehensive sense, which thus combines poetry and art, may be even\ncounted as a part of it. And if ancient art and ancient poetry\nespecially, with their mournful back-glances at the olden majesty long\npast and gone, come over us with emotions something like those of\neventide, when the last parting gleam of the brilliant sun is fast\nsetting behind the distant hills, so in their opposite aspect, as hope,\nturning its bold, enthusiastic eye toward the future, they may smile\nupon us as the rosy dawn which runs before the rising sun of truth, and\nthat new time which is to shine and glow in its beams--or as the first\nbeautiful ray of enthusiastic promise. Such, in all probability, seems\nthe position most suitable to art in our own days. Now, with respect to\nthis peculiar position of art relatively to hope, and their intimate\naffinity, and their relation to the present age and to the two other\nelements of the harmonic scale of human life, viz., love and faith, the\nfrequent and expressive sentiment of a poet whose intimate friendship it\nis my privilege to enjoy, will convey most forcibly the conclusion which\nI would wish to enforce upon your minds. Although his remark with regard\nto the harmony and union which ought to prevail between the true\nelements of higher feeling was addressed primarily to the present\ngeneration, it admits of application to every age. He asks--\n\n    \u201cThe age has neither faith nor love;\n     How, then, for such should hope remain?\u201d[72]\n\nThis voice first sounded forth in fateful days, when danger and alarm\nwere so instant and threatening as almost to cut off and extinguish\nhope; but the storm so dark and menacing passed away. A new prospect has\nsince opened upon us, and all is changed. As a just estimate of our own\ntimes, however, it appears to me, in its present unqualified form, too\nsweeping and severe. The age is not so entirely without hope as the poet\nhere asserts. No doubt we have been somewhat lukewarm, inconstant, and\nunsteady in this respect. Or, more correctly to express the real state\nof the case: in itself and in that faith in itself which, as it was\noverhastily embraced, was set up without limit or condition, and\ngenerally in all faith, from its highest degree down to that lowest\ngrade of it which moves within the ordinary pursuits and relations of\nlife, it has been somewhat confused and wandering; nay, at times it has\nproved somewhat forgetful, not only of the old and transitory, but also\nof what is modern, and even what was most recent and within its own\nexperience. Accordingly, to the eye of the observer, it appears, on the\nwhole, to be devoid of all ruling principle, and to be still in search\nof some regulative standard within itself. If, in this search after\nfaith, some few have taken up too quickly, and rested satisfied with\nthat arbitrary expedient and device of a faltering and meager reason,\nthis was, no doubt, a symptom of a partially sickly state, but by no\nmeans such as to justify us in passing a sweeping sentence on the whole\nage, as totally unsound and diseased. For in all human affairs and\nrelations, such a profound longing as this, when it is lasting, and\ngenerally whenever it does not proceed solely and entirely from some\nwant or defect, invariably presupposes some natural disposition and\ncapacity, though it may be one which is neither rightly cultivated, nor\nas yet expanded to full vigor and stability.\n\nAnd as little, or rather still less, would it be just to deny to the age\nall love--if, at least, an enthusiasm which readily and cheerfully makes\nthe greatest sacrifices be a part of love. Consequently, I can not\nconcur with the opinion which will not concede to the age in which we\nlive the least spark of hope. Even though many of its expectations--as\nbeing at least precipitate or wholly immaterial--as being founded, in\nshort, on naught--have terminated in naught, and even in their desired\nfulfillment, must have ended in a nullity--still we dare not, therefore,\nthrow aside all higher, holier, and diviner hope. For in this we feel\nevery earthly expectation, so far as it is real and well-grounded, will\nreceive its final accomplishment, being realized to a degree surpassing\nall that we had ever ventured to look for. And even if dark clouds are\nagain gathering on the horizon, and if to many an observer, whose\nposition in the political world affords him a wide and distant prospect\nof society, the dangers menacing our own generation seem still more\nfearful and terrible even than those which have but scarcely passed\naway; still there is no need of despair. Rather, taught by past\nexperience in like fearful circumstances, and recognizing in this lesson\nof experience a teaching higher than man\u2019s, we will, even though our\nfears be fulfilled in the worst and most awful form, regard it all as\nprobably forming, if not a necessary, yet certainly a most salutary\ncrisis of transition to a higher state of divine hope. To this divine\nhope it is sufficient for me thus briefly to have alluded. For whatever\nI have at any time in my past life attempted--it may be feebly and\ninadequately--to give expression to, and all that it is my object to\nconvey to my present respected auditory, and all that hereafter I shall\nhave to say in this world, has had and will have no other end or object\nthan to point to and to preach this sacred and eternal hope of a true,\nnot merely earthly, but profoundly new era, and of a spiritual life\nadvancing in it toward the perfection of majesty and glory. To gain a\nfull assurance for such a hope, and to establish it to the best of my\npower firmly and immovably among the actuating motives of life, has ever\nbeen and will always be my first and dearest wish.\n\nBut still, though the poet\u2019s distich, in its immediate reference to our\nown days, requires to be greatly qualified, I would, nevertheless,\nventure to apply it to art. At least, it admits of such an application;\nthough in this case likewise it must undergo some restriction and\nlimitation. As passed even on the present condition of art, the sentence\nis harsh, if not unjust. If, however, there ever was or should be a time\nof which, if not strictly and absolutely, yet generally and on the\nwhole, it could with truth be asserted, that the existing condition of\nart \u201chad neither faith nor love,\u201d then might we go on confidently to add\nthe inference, \u201cHow then should hope remain for it?\u201d\n\nI must once again repeat it: such a sentence, if applied to German art\nin our own days, would be both harsh and unmerited. If, however,\nart--which itself is nothing but the significant hieroglyphics, the\ndeeply-moving and elevating song of eternal hope--should have for its\nbasis, instead of a true and unwavering faith, one merely artificial and\nself-imposed, or at best, the unreal faith of feeling, fugitive and\ntransitory, and unable to stand the fiery trial--if, too, love, instead\nof being deep-felt and profound, be but the cuckoo-note of a fashionable\nadmiration, unthinkingly caught up and repeated without nature; then\nthe harsh sentence we have just quoted, together with its sad inference,\nfinds a due application. At least, it is so far applicable as it is true\nthat in this sad deficiency of living faith and earnest love, we can\nalone discover an explanation of what otherwise seems so strange in the\nhistory of art within the recent century. If, after many a truly noble\nbeginning, the further development and result corresponded but little\nand most imperfectly with the expectations that had at first been\nexcited--if, with truly great talents and rare endowments of genius, so\nmuch has fallen to the ground, like imperfect blossoms, without maturing\nany useful and lasting intellectual fruits--it was simply because art\nwas deficient in this its firmest basis. And partly it was, also,\nbecause she mistook and was unable to take her proper position in the\ntimes, or even if she did understand, was too weak to retain it by an\nabiding feeling of love. For the true position of art must not be\nmisunderstood, nor the natural order of things reversed, if it is truly\nto flourish, and the age itself is not to be deprived of, or checked and\ndisturbed in, its true enjoyment of it. True art and poetry are the\nbeautiful crown, the promising blossoms, yea, the very flowers of hope,\non the nobly-grown tree of humanity, as it widely expands itself in rich\nand marvelous intellectual development. But it can not also be its root;\nand if any where it pretends or desires to be such, there assuredly some\nstrange perversion must exist, or some profound and essential defect\nmust have led to so singular a pretension.\n\nWe hear, no doubt, in horticulture, of inverted trees, whose heads being\nplaced in the ground, strike root and grow, while the natural root\nfreely develops itself into branches and leaves. The experiment so\nsuccessful with plants can not be imitated in mental matters without\nfearful peril. Here the blossoming crown, if reversed, will not take\nroot, and never bear real and genuine fruit. No! an absolutely \u00e6sthetic\nfoundation is insufficient even for this life, and much more so, then,\nfor the next. Of the origin of life and the world, a mere poetical view\nof things can give but a specious and cleverly-evasive account; but as\ngood as none of that of hope, of which, in such a case, it must wholly\nhave lost the clew. If, then, that which is at most but the bright\nmorning tint of hope should seek to keep back the sun, or would set\nitself up for the true luminary, then--supposing it for a moment to be\npossible--it would itself soon lower into dark clouds, and instead of\nthe longed-for splendor of the full and glorious daylight, a dull, gray\nsky would cover the whole earth. This intrinsic weakness often betrays\nitself in poetry (and frequently, also, in other spheres of human\ninvention), by what at any rate appears to be an inflated display,\nwhich, instead of concealing, does but create a suspicion of a deep\ninternal hollowness. What I allude to may take two forms. Sometimes it\nmanifests itself in an excessive luxuriousness--often we might call it a\nvery deluge--of the most unintelligible exaggerations of sacred\nfeelings, such as I regret occasionally to observe in our modern school\nof poetry. At other times it comes forward in an equally lavish and\nboundless prodigality of wit and raillery; sometimes, too, a serious\nhumor lurks in the wit, while a mocking parody makes sport with the very\nhumor, or a still loftier tone of irony, from its height of spiritual\nexaltation, soars above both wit and humor, and the whole work\nitself--nay, above all besides, and even the very universe. It is in\nthis one-sided preponderance, and in the absoluteness with which reason\nor fancy is allowed to take a decided but exclusive direction, that the\nfirst cause lies of that alienation already mentioned as subsisting\nbetween men of a purely \u00e6sthetical temperament and poetical nature, who\non the one side judge of every thing by the rules of taste, and the men\nof practical reason on the other, whose only standard is utility. This\nestrangement is only too apparent in real and actual life, where in the\ndegree which we have supposed, and by the methods ordinarily pursued, it\nis utterly irreconcilable. They stand, indeed, as fully estranged from\neach other, and as hostile, as two wholly different races. And in this\nlight a well-known _savant_, at the close of the last century, seems\nreally to have regarded them, since, on the whole face of the earth, he\nsaw only two races--noble-minded, elegant, and tasteful Celts, and dull,\nordinary, and stupid Mongols. Here, however, I must repeat my previous\nremark, that, in these days at least, by far the greater danger is to be\napprehended from an absolute ascendency of reason. For the rationalizing\nsystem of thought which results from such one-sidedness, is not confined\nmerely to the schools and their scientific theories, but it too often\nextends its pernicious consequences, and its fatal and debasing\ninfluence, over the whole range of public and social life. On the other\nhand, the slight aberrations of taste, or (if they most be accounted\nsuch) the little extravagances of genius, may always be easily and\npromptly reduced within due limits, especially in an age like our own,\nso thoroughly pervaded with a correct feeling of art.\n\nTo give a solid basis to the whole of life, a firm internal conviction\nis necessary. It must be a deeper feeling than any that a mere\naspiration, however beautiful, or any poetical visions of enthusiastic\nhope, or even that irony which exalts itself above both, can ever give.\nNow, for the attainment of this inward certainty and irrefragable\nscience of life and truth, pure thought, though it does not form the\nonly road, is, nevertheless, in every case a necessary agent, whose\nco-operation is indispensable. In the further prosecution, therefore, of\nour pursuit of the science of life, as deducible from the very notion of\nthe consciousness, according to that theory of it which we have been\ndeveloping, thought, in and by itself, must now, as we hinted in our\nfirst sketch, form the subject of a special inquiry. But here the\nprincipal thing to be guarded against is, the delusion that philosophy\nmust aim at the rigor of mathematical certainty, and a mode of proof\nderived, on such an hypothesis, from that science, by a servile copying\nof its method; for, often as this has been attempted, it has never as\nyet led to a felicitous result. This misconception in the domain of\nscience is something like to what it would be if in poetry, from an\nundue consideration of music, the mere play of tones--the rhyme and\nrhythm--which do indeed contribute to the ornateness of its figurative\ninvestiture, should be held to be the very essence of the art. Or, to\ntake another illustration, it is much the same as if, with some of the\nmore recent English poets, we should wish to make picturesquely\ndescriptive poetry to be a peculiar species; whereas in truth it forms,\nor has a tendency to degenerate into, a mere faulty mannerism.\n\nYou will remember that I explained a notion to be a conception\ncompletely determined, both inwardly and outwardly (_i.e._, in extent\nand comprehension), according to the mathematical dimensions of number,\nmeasure, and weight. But this, perhaps, is the only mathematical formula\nthat in the domain of philosophy is universally applicable. And even as\nsuch it only applies to the notion as a standard and fundamental idea by\nwhich we may judge of the correctness of its formation, and the\ncompleteness of its division into its several organic parts, or lower\ngenera and species. It is no use further for the combination of the\nseveral notions into entire scientific periods and conclusions; for we\nmay regard every complete system of science and speculative thought as\nsome such perfect period and syllogism. But with regard to the notion\nand its object, it is unquestionably of the highest importance to\ndetermine whether it be absolutely simple or compound. If the latter, it\nmay suggest many questions. If double, it may fall into an intrinsic\ncontrariety, or be involved in a twofold want of harmony. If it numbers\nthree constituents, we may have to inquire whether in its triple energy\nit enjoys a living unity of operation; or if possessed of four opposite\ndirections, it may be involved in binary contrarieties and double\ndiscord; or, again, we might have to inquire whether the essential\naccession of some fifth element forms the living center to hold together\nand reunite the four which otherwise are divergent and apart; or whether\nthe whole in triple couplets, or a double trine, forms a six; or whether\nseven arise from the union of a trine and quartain, either in the world\nof thought, or the realities of life and outward experience; and again,\neight may be a double square in the one or the other relation; or yet\nonce more, we may have to inquire whether in the still advancing inward\nreckoning and development of life, nine arise from a thrice repeated\ntriple energy. And lastly, whether all these first elementary numbers\nare in various ways perfected and combined together in the decade.\n\nRightly understood, the Pythagorean theory of numbers--however\nunintelligible its single statements may appear, when detached from the\ngeneral context--is perhaps as little devoid of foundation as the\nPlatonic doctrine of anamnesis. The latter I have endeavored to justify,\nby explaining it in a better sense than it is ordinarily taken; the\nformer, however, from a deficiency of original and genuine historical\nauthorities, it is far more difficult to judge of correctly and\nimpartially. In the first place, the Pythagoreans as a body stand very\nfar indeed above the ordinary standard of the Grecian intellect and\nenlightenment; for Plato was but a single great mind, and stood almost\nalone even in the Socratic school.\n\nThe degradation of the female sex, though founded on the habits as well\nas political institutions of the rest of Greece, was decried by these\nearnest and deep-thinking men, who, in their reform, adopted quite an\nopposite sentiment. And if in their measures for its removal something\nseems still to be desiderated, and even something to be blamed, both\ndefects arise chiefly from their having fallen into the other extreme of\nerror, by proposing to give to woman a culture too decidedly masculine,\nand seeking to establish it as the rule of their new society. Women were\nconcurrent and co-ordinate members of the governing body of the\nPythagorean league, and an essential element of the splendid aristocracy\nof merit in this new model of life and society; which, however, as\nclashing too directly with the inveterate habits of their countrymen,\nsoon provoked a revolution, and was entirely overthrown. It was,\nhowever, from this source that Plato, and also Socrates, chiefly derived\ntheir respect for highly-gifted women and their general view of the\nfemale sex; which in a degree, though very imperfectly, anticipated the\npurer Christian notion both of it and human nature, possessing on the\nwhole a right but vague notion of the true dignity of both.\n\nWith respect to the theory of numbers in this ancient philosophy, and\nits true and simple sense, we have the following remarks to make. There\nis, we know, a certain chronological feeling by means of which the\nskillful physician strives, with acute and often happy conjecture, to\ndetermine the impending crisis of disease and its probable termination.\nThere is also a similar tact which enables the experienced politician to\nmeasure the under-current of the rapid flow of mundane events--to feel\nthe pulse of life as it beats in its thronging and quickly-passing\nincidents. In both cases, however, we feel that it is no infallibly\ncertain and perfectly omniscient oracle--for none such is to be found in\nthe whole range of the human mind. Neither is it any prophetical\nforecasting--not to speak of any pre-destined necessity. It must be\nregarded as a delicate and sensitive tact, which may deceive, but whose\nperceptions subsequent results most frequently prove to be correct. Now,\nof somewhat similar nature to this, there is a kind of immediate,\nsearching, arithmetical glance into the internal and essential numerical\nrelations of things in general, and also of all the objects of nature\nand phenomena of life, which does unquestionably form an essential\nelement in every innate talent for scientific thinking. In some such\nsimple sense as this we may understand the Pythagorean doctrine of\nintrinsic life-numbers in things and their manifold relations. Under\nsuch limitations we may adopt it, or at least allow its validity. And\nat any rate we must admit that it was an advance (or at least the first\nstep thereto) in scientific thought, to be able, by this way of\nregarding things, to count, in the analysis of them or their notions, up\nto ten, or even to fifteen or more.\n\nThus, then, as regards the general notions (but only in regard to\nthese), the mathematical view and method may be profitably applied to\nphilosophy. In any case it is highly important, and indeed essential,\nfor the correct formation of notions (and also for the complete division\nof them into their organic members, whatever may be the sphere to which\nthey belong), that we should be able to determine the true inner number,\nboth of them and their objects, since on this number the right quantity\nand weight of any one notion relatively to others, whether kindred or\ndistinct, and especially to the whole, most intimately depends.\n\nThe combination, however, of single notions into propositions, or\ncomplete systems of science, can not, in philosophy at least, follow a\nmathematical or any similar principle. For philosophy, we have seen, is\na science of a higher life, derived from an internal experience. It\nrests, therefore, on the triple basis, inasmuch as the latter is given\nfrom within, from above, and from without. Consequently, the great\nobject here is, naturally, not, as it is in mathematical science, to\nlink together, in apparently rigorous connection, the several phenomena\nof these higher data, or (if, as some will have it, there be only one)\nits single momenta, and manifoldly to concatenate them as so many pure\nschemes and formul\u00e6. The essential point is rather to gain a pure\napprehension of the imparted data of this higher life; and rightly\nunderstanding them, to clothe them correctly in words, and by giving\nthese again in correct grammatical coherence, to express them clearly\nand forcibly. But this would imply that the method of thought in this\nself-cognition of life, thus expressed in words, is of a thoroughly\ngrammatical nature; and then the higher logic--if we must so speak, and\nisolate and detach the latter, as an elementary science, from its\nconnection with the living whole--the higher logic would consist simply\nof the rules for this inner language, and be nothing but a correct\ngrammar of living thought. And, in truth, I for my part do believe that\nit ought so to be treated. And it is from this point of view, and\naccording to the idea thus advanced of such a higher grammatical\ncorrectness of thinking, that I shall proceed, whenever any point\nconnected with the form of thought and the right method of science comes\ninto question, or requires to be noticed in passing. An instance will\nplace clearly before our mind the different points of view taken by\nthese two modes of judging and doctrinal methods. In compliance with a\nsimilitude which accurately enough corresponds to the truth, let us\nconsider a system of philosophy as a whole period of higher thought, or\nas a perfect proposition of science. Now, in that estimate of a period\nof this kind which observes the usual requisitions of mathematical\ncertainty and mode of thinking, it would be said: \u201cThis system is\nwonderful, and quite perfect, for all its positions are rigidly\ndemonstrated.\u201d But even supposing the system were thus rigorously\ndemonstrative in all its parts, still the whole system might be\nradically false; for it might originally have started from an erroneous\nprinciple, or, being devoid of any truly real and abiding\nsubject-matter, be based on some empty phantom of scientific\nimagination, or the unsubstantial absolute of the reason. But the same\nsystem or period of thought being judged from the opposite position of\nwhat I have called a higher grammatical method, will be thus spoken of:\n\u201cIt is all empty words, without worth or substance, for nothing in it is\ntaken from actual life, and nothing of the kind has ever been felt in\nman\u2019s experience.\u201d When, however, the subject-matter is real, and\nfurnished by the realities of the inner life, there, in the special\ndetails, much may be wanting, here and there a word may be missing, the\nstructure of the periods of the whole system may not be perfectly\ndistinct, and the general arrangement not sufficiently lucid:\noccasionally also a faulty and inadequate expression may be met with,\nand yet the whole work may, nevertheless, constitute a great advance on\nthe road to higher knowledge, and furnish a valuable contribution to\ntruth. With the exception of the case of the total inanity and\nperversity of view, our judgment must never be indiscriminate or\nrigorous. Scientific thought in general, and especially in philosophy,\nconsists of notions, intuitions, and judgments, if only the latter term\nbe taken, in its usual logical sense, to signify the combining together\nnotions or intuitions. Now, of the true mathematical mode of proceeding\nwith notions according to the pure and simple acceptation of the\nPythagorean mystery of numbers, and, secondly, of what in its inmost\nessence is a grammatical method--their combination in methodical\nthought--we have already spoken. As to the inward intuitions that we\nenjoy of that higher something which is in three ways imparted to us,\nthe mathematical mode of procedure is plainly inapplicable to them. Even\nthe grammatical one ceases to be fruitful here; at least it is\nunsatisfactory. Natural science, which is itself pre-eminently based on\nintuition, will perhaps most readily furnish a comparative illustration,\ncalculated to throw light on and explain that perception of a higher\nsomething from which philosophy sets out. And this illustration will be\nbest borrowed from those experiences in natural philosophy which appear\nto seize the fundamental phenomena of nature and her inmost life; even\nthough the experiment itself set before our eyes these wonderful\nphenomena, and the secrets which are brought to light therein, in the\ngreatly-diminished proportions of scientific abbreviation. Extremely\ntrifling as the imitation of lightning by our electrical apparatus may\nappear, still that little spark has kindled a great and universal light\nin the domain of physical science. The magnetic needle, which at first\nsight was looked upon as an insignificant marvel of nature, taught man\nfirst of all to fix his position on this earth and to find it again\nafter quitting it--and so, by leading him on to the discovery of the New\nWorld, founded thereby a great epoch in the history of the human mind.\nNot merely does it point to the terrestrial north-pole, but it also\nguides the thoughtful observer to the inmost center of nature, where, in\nthis mystery of living attraction, the universal key of interpretation\nseems to lie hidden. And who would mock or despise the thoughtful\nnaturalist who delights, by the prismatic analysis or division of the\nelementary colors of light, to produce or copy in miniature the rainbow\nwhich spans the heavens?\n\nNow, in these first simple and elementary phenomena, external nature, as\nit were, spontaneously presents to us beautiful emblems for still higher\nphenomena belonging to another and internal region. They enable us\nmetaphorically to express the divine phenomenon of truth, and its vivid\napprehension and intrinsic adoption, till it becomes a fixed and\nimperishable knowledge, and to narrate intelligibly the intrinsic\ngenesis of truth and true knowledge. For the following is, if we may so\nspeak, the history of the growth of living science in the human mind,\nwhenever the latter is capable of it, and is raised or raises itself to\nthe height thereof.\n\nThe beginning is made by the first kindling spark of truth, which works\nlike the electric shock--by the first ray of knowledge, which afterward\ngradually expands into the nourishing flame of love.\n\nThe second step of further progress is formed by the magnetic attraction\nof the soul, which from the first contact to the ultimate union, strives\nstill to penetrate more profoundly, and more accurately to investigate\nthe object of its love. In this remark, I proceed on the hypothesis\n(which hereafter will still oftener be spoken of) that no living\ncognition is possible or actual without a previous vital contact and\nunion between the knowing and the known.\n\nWhen, lastly, the moment of completion arrives, then the close of this\npursuit of a highest knowledge will be made by that full expansion of\ndivine light which often, like a heavenly token of peace and\nreconciliation, shines forth in the very midst of the clouds of\ndiscontent, and dissolves all doubts before it. But now philosophy,\naccording to the original sense of the beautiful Greek word, does not by\nany means signify the highest wisdom, the everlasting truth itself, or\nthe perfect science. It denotes rather the pure longing, the love of a\ngenuine knowledge of divine truth, which spiritually conquers and\ntriumphs over every difficulty in the way of its attainment This, then,\nimplies that this science does and must set out from love as its basis.\nFor the indication of this foundation of true knowledge, in its\ncharacteristic features at least, natural science has furnished us with\nthe adequate symbols.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VII.\n\n\n\u201cFeeling is every thing,\u201d I would again repeat; in words only does there\nlie a possibility of misconception. When philosophy sets out from the\nfalse semblance of necessary thought, it must always have a similar\nresult. It can not extricate itself from its own subtile web of\nscientific delusion. Abstract phrases, _i.e._, words deprived of their\nliving significance (if ever they possessed any) and reduced to empty,\nlifeless formul\u00e6, are easily found, or, rather, have long since been\nfound, for this seeming knowledge, which as such does, in truth, remain\never identical with itself.[73] And if, from time to time, it changes\nits expressions and assumes quite a different terminology, this is only\ndone for the sake of appearing new, whereas fundamentally it is still\nthe old error which continues to be propagated in a changed form and\ndress. Sometimes, no doubt, it is done with an honest intention, under\nthe persuasion that truth and science will, perhaps, in the new magical\nform be more easily seized and comprehended than was possible in the old\none, whose unintelligible obscurity and intricacies were deeply felt,\nand which it is hoped are avoided in the somewhat altered arrangement of\nthe ideas. But the unintelligible obscurity lies, not in the words and\nphrases or the terminology, however strange and barbarous the latter may\nsound. It arises entirely from a defective point of view, and the\nperversion of thought involved in the very theory of identity; and no\nphraseology or skill of composition, however unparalleled, will ever be\nable totally to remove it. Quite otherwise is it when philosophy sets\nout from the feeling of that which it desires, and which from the very\nfirst it has propounded and sought as its proper object. In this case\nthe difficulty does not lie in the thing itself, or in the view on which\nit is based. For the latter, inasmuch as it results from life itself,\nand man\u2019s inmost feelings and experiences, is as obvious and\nintelligible as the visible shape and phenomenon and as the pure\nconsciousness of life itself. At least it is sufficiently clear for all\nthe purposes of life, and sufficiently intelligible for the kindred\nfeelings on which it rests. But in this, as in every other case of\nprofound internal emotion, it is extremely difficult to find the very\nright word for it, the exact appropriate term which happily seizes and\nvividly expresses its essential character. Accordingly, in\nphilosophy--so long, at least, as it proceeds from this fundamental\nprinciple of life and a living feeling--I think it best not to shackle\nour thoughts and notions by the fetters of a rigidly-fixed and\nunchangeable terminology. For such sciences as are distinctly limited to\na particular sphere, this method may be profitable and salutary. Indeed,\nit may not only appear but actually be indispensable. But in the present\ncase it would be inappropriate. We must seek, on the contrary, the\ngreatest possible variety of expression, availing ourselves of all the\nriches of language in the copious diversity of scientific, and even of\npoetical and figurative diction, and not refusing to borrow the terms of\nsociety or any sphere of life. For our first endeavor must be to keep\nour exposition vivid throughout. Continually advancing with a living\nmovement, we ought to avoid, above all things, that propensity to using\nstiff and dead formularies, which almost seems to be inborn and\nhereditary in rational science. For as the living philosophy is a higher\nand clearer consciousness, or self-conscious knowledge--a sort of second\nconsciousness within the ordinary one--it requires for its indication\nand exposition, as it were, a language within language; only the latter\ncan never be a system of lifeless formul\u00e6, but must even be in the\nhighest degree vivid and flexible. The philosophy of life may, in short,\nborrow its terms from every sphere, but principally from life itself;\nand even, the fugitive terms and evanescent forms of conversational\nlanguage will often supply it with the happiest and most pertinent modes\nof expression. Such, too, it may occasionally borrow from all the\nsubordinate sciences. Even the obsolete and cumbrous terminology--the\nbarbarous school phrases of a recent German philosophy--might furnish\nmany a valuable contribution to that rich copiousness of expression\nwhich is indispensable to the philosophy of life. An occasional phrase\nor term borrowed from this source, but differently applied, or employed\nin quite a new sense--and thereby for the time rendered intelligible,\nmay often serve to express most happily and most pertinently what\nbefore seemed to be almost inexpressible and to elude all the powers of\nlanguage.\n\nBut, above all things, we must remember that its exposition must not be\na mere dead framework of fixed terms--a system of empty formularies.\nThis is a point which appears to me to be most intimately connected and\nmixed up with the very essence and spirit of scientific truth. On this\npoint my feelings are so strong, that if, in that attempt which for some\nyears I have been making to give a new development of philosophy, I\ncould consider it allowable to adopt the course which has so often been\nfollowed in German literature and its several school-systems, of\ndetaching some single notion from its general connection, in order more\nrapidly to gain for it, like small coin, a wider circulation, even\nthough by so doing its peculiar stamp of intrinsic truth is quickly\nabraded and lost--if, I say, I could bring myself to adopt such a\ncourse, I should confine myself to opposing, and using every means to\ncounteract, this killing of the spirit by words which in and by\nthemselves have no signification. If it were possible, nothing would\ngive me greater pleasure than to see all the old and customary terms\nrejected and dropped, and new and different ones found for the same\ntheme.\n\nThe philosophy of life--one, _i.e._, which sets out in its speculations\nfrom life itself and the living consciousness--neither can nor desires\nto be all-comprehensive; not at least in the same sense that that\nphilosophy does which proceeds from the assumption of a necessary\nconnection of thought. It does not presumptuously suppose that it\npossesses the power of measuring the whole sum of all that is\nconceivable or possible, and of setting it down as an unalterable result\nforever. It does not arrogate to itself such omniscience. But in one\nsense the philosophy of life may justly be called an all-comprehensive\nscience; and that is in so far as, keeping in contact with the center of\nlife, and, consequently, of thought also, and of knowledge, it attempts\nto seize and rightly to apprehend them. And so long as it does not lose\nsight of this center, but is constantly returning to it, it may be\nallowed many liberties. Around this center it may revolve in circles,\nnow narrower now wider, with the view of contemplating it more\nadvantageously, so long as it does not rest too soon in any definite\nfocus of thought. While it refuses to confine itself to any fixed form\nof language, it may, with unshackled choice, select from the whole\nrange of life and thought whatever expressions appear the most\nsignificant and happiest for indicating that fullness of feeling which\nis so difficult to give words to, and which indeed can never be\nadequately comprised in language. Nor in such a case will it ever be\nmade an objection if, in the succession of its ideas and its manifoldly\nvaried turnings, it avails itself of the same liberty, frequently coming\nback to the same starting-point, though always presenting it in some new\nlight and relation. The test of the scientific correctness of a true\nmethod of thought, which must ever be living and vivid, is an internal\none. It is independent of all such little and external matters, and it\ncan even exist unimpaired alongside of many apparent irregularities.\nHere the case is nearly the same as with actual conversation. In both\nalike, when we would express ourselves on any grave point of feeling,\nand clothe it in such language as is likely to gain the concurrence of\nothers, or, by making it clear, to enforce it upon the general\nconviction, we feel it perfectly allowable to follow whatever course may\nseem most convenient. At one time we preliminarily advance some question\nmore or less remotely bearing upon it, or we take up a narrative or\nsimile which will serve to introduce it. Or, it may be, by explanation\nwe try to clear away some possible misconception, or, perhaps, to limit\nand determine some preconceived opinion on the matter, in the hope of\nremoving or solving some apparent or troublesome difficulty. Some or all\nof these means we freely make use of in order that the desired result of\nour discourse may finally stand out clear and distinct before the mental\neye of our auditors. I shall, therefore, I think, be justified if I\nfollow the same course in these Lectures which it is my wish should\nleave on your minds the impression of an internal dialogue. In the\nseemingly rhapsodical flow of its thought I shall assume the same\nliberty. Far from abstaining from episodical matters, when they suggest\nthemselves, I even think it essential often to introduce them; and by\nfrequently recurring, under many a variation of expression, to the same\nleading idea, it will be my endeavor to place it in a still clearer\nlight. By this course, in spite of its seeming tediousness, I shall be\nable ultimately, in a few simple ideas, to set the whole matter more\ndistinctly and intelligibly before you. And, at the same time, I trust\nthat the rules of internal language for the correct composition of the\nwhole, the right arrangement of the words (if I may so call it), that\ninternal grammatical order of living thought, of which I previously\nspoke, will be found to be duly observed, even though in the details\nmany a term may appear imperfect and inadequate, and many a happier\nexpression might have been found. The most vivid diction, even the best\nand most felicitous, falls always far short of feeling. \u201cFeeling is\nevery thing\u201d--the full center of the inner life, the point from which\nphilosophy sets out, and to which it invariably returns. We might call\nit, if such an every-day expression would not sound and strike us as\nstrange, the quintessence of the consciousness. However, in its original\nsense (which, in truth, arose out of a very superficial and meager view\nof ancient philosophy), as used to denote the essential fifth over and\nabove the four opposite poles of inward existence, or the four divergent\ndirections of reality, which, like the mind, is also divided into\nquadruple dissension, the term quintessence is not inappropriate for\nthis center of the consciousness. For feeling is, unquestionably, such a\nfifth, both in relation to the four great fundamental energies of the\ninner man, as the latter are manifested to us by experience, and also to\nthe four faculties of the second order, which are composed of or derived\nfrom the former. But it is not only difficult to find an adequate\nexpression for the full central feelings of the inner life, but\nespecially to indicate accurately in words all the more delicate\nperceptions, with their shades of difference and distinction, which\nspring from it, and rigorously to keep them as distinct in the\nexpression as they were in the actual emotion. Clearly, too, and\naccurately as the inner sense may distinguish between a genuine and a\nspurious manifestation of the higher feelings, it is not so very easy in\nlanguage to keep them separate, or so precisely to characterize them as\nto exclude every false accompaniment, and to prevent the possibility of\nconfounding the spurious and the genuine. How great, for instance, is\nthe difference between the two kinds of irony which we meet with in the\nphilosophical dialogue, either as introduced by the Socratic school, or\nas similarly employed in modern dialectic. The one kind, overflowing\nwith skeptical shrewdness, makes illimitable doubt the end of its\ndialogical expositions, and is that acrid and biting irony which is\nbased on universal negation. The other species, more amiable and\nbenevolent, is intimately allied to a lofty enthusiasm for the divine\nand the true, being almost one with, or, at least, inseparable from it,\nsince it arises from a sense of its own incapacity to comprise in any\nform of words the plenitude of divinity, as the spirit discerns it in\ntruth. And yet, notwithstanding such differences in the expressions and\nturns of the dialogue, they often border close upon and nearly resemble\none another; whereas the inner purpose, the spirit, the design of the\nline of thought, is often thoroughly distinct in the two cases, and\nalmost directly opposed. In the same way, true artistic genius and its\nmere imitation are even in their external manner and productions easily\ndetected by the feeling. And yet we often find words fail us when we\nattempt characteristically to indicate their differences, and to pass a\ndiscriminating judgment upon them. So, too--to illustrate this topic by\nthe instance of wit--a forced humor, with its wearying repetitions and\nmannerism, or the ceaseless straining and empty play of an artificial\nwit, is very different from the overflowing fullness of genuine poetical\nwit, in which the lively genius of a sportive fancy is every where\nwelling forth, and a profound poetical enthusiasm shines through the\ncoat of ever-shifting hues which its motley humor puts on. But still,\neven here it is extremely difficult to explain one\u2019s self, and to\ndistinguish the different impressions they make. Accordingly, in a\ngeneral judgment upon them, many mistakes and misconceptions are both\npossible, and are frequently made.\n\nNow, in the sphere of feeling, the mere counterfeit, in particular cases\nat least, is frequently in its language so deceptively similar to the\ntrue and genuine, that at last the judgment can find no other words\nsuitable to itself than the simple ones, \u201cI feel it to be true and\nprofound,\u201d or \u201cI feel it to be spurious, intrinsically vain, a mere\ncounterfeit, and a cheat.\u201d Again: faith, hope, and love or\ncharity--(those three states of the soul-springs of life--those inward\norgans of the moral sense--those decisive acts and diversified forms of\nmanifestation of one common sentiment, directed to the good and the\ndivine--or by what other terms they may be expressed)--this sisterhood\nof spiritual qualities often mentioned together, and, in fact, closely\nallied and united, are presented to us as forming a complete scheme and\nall-embracing and significant symbol of a higher life. When they are\nfelt and regarded in this light, they do, indeed, become such for all\nhigher thought and science, in so far as the latter ought to be living\nand to have their foundation in life. Too frequently, however, and that\nnot merely in the poems of an \u00e6sthetical piety, but also in many a dull\nwork of edification, we see this triple symbol of a higher life degraded\ninto the commonplace of a morbid fancy, which, in the gratification of\nan idle vanity, trifles with the best and holiest feelings of our\nnature. Even here, therefore, as elsewhere, a strict separation between\nthe genuine and the spurious is very necessary, calling for and claiming\nall our watchfulness. But the counterfeiture lies not in the tone of\nsolemn earnestness and depth of pathos with which men broach these\nsubjects, or generally touch upon them; on the contrary, the affectation\nmostly announces itself in a certain external pomp of word and phrase.\nBut now, if this symbol of an internal religious triplet contains at the\nsame time (so to speak) the fundamental harmony of that higher life\nwhich is devoted to the good and directed to the divine, then must this\napply not only to the inner but also to the outer life. In short, this\nscheme of the fundamental moral ideas must be again met with in the\nordinary relations of actual life. In such a case it is clearly most\nagreeable to truth to speak of this internal and better life simply and\nunpretendingly in a perfectly natural manner, while a holy reverence for\nwhat is most exalted in humanity is best testified by an intrinsic\ndelicacy in the mode of treating it, by the absence of all pedantry of\nsublimity, or affectation of a sentimental formality.\n\nWith an especial reference to the end of science, I have, in the case of\nthese three elements of higher consciousness, attempted to distinguish,\nstrictly and precisely, the true and genuine from the spurious, which\noften runs parallel to it, and the well-founded from that which rests on\nno right basis of reality. In the case of faith, we drew a distinction\nbetween that intrinsic living faith which is based on the feelings of\npersonal experience and love, and that counterfeited imitation of it\nwhich is only externally assumed. In the case of hope, too, it has been\nmy endeavor to show that, besides a narrow-minded, egoistic, and\npassionate and partisan hope, whose anticipations are seldom realized,\nbut if so, only to their own punishment and disgrace, there is also a\nhigher hope, which is both Godlike and divine. To this hope it is that\nart and poetry owe the magical charm by which they win upon us. But in\nactual life also it is the stay to which we must resolutely cling. For\neven though she be rightly named eternal, yet at certain particular\nmoments and appointed historical epochs, after being long looked for in\nvain, she often appears in a far different shape from that which\nexpectation had lent to her, and to our surprise stands forth\nunexpectedly in the full majesty and splendor of final consummation.\nAll, then, that now remains to be done in this way is, in the case of\nlove (since the earthly passion is for the most part only transitory,\noften confounded with the phantom of passion, and is, perhaps, totally\nblind), to point to a higher and better love, which is abiding and\neternal, and, at the same time, endued both with sight and knowledge.\nFor such alone can be of real value for the cognition of truth, and the\nright understanding of life. Such alone, in short, can contribute to the\nacquisition of that science of man, and especially of the inner man,\nwhich we are here in search of.\n\nBut now those three principles which constitute the grand harmony of\nthat higher intelligent feeling which leads to science and also to\nreligion, are at the same time, though in a less dignified relation, the\nimpelling motives and ruling influences of actual life. For it is almost\nimpossible to take one step forward in life without some feeling or\nother of trust and perfect faith in the general result. All our\nproceedings, in short, are based on some confident assumption or other,\neven though it is one which, perhaps we can not mathematically\ndemonstrate, and which, when the moment for action is pressing upon us,\nwe are unable perfectly to analyze. And hope, too, in some shape or\nform, is universally acknowledged to be the true moving impulse of our\nwhole existence. So, also, love of some kind, true or false--it may be\npure and lofty or mixed and sordid, if not altogether counterfeit--forms\nthe very sum of life and of all enjoyment of it--ay, even life itself.\nAn example or two, consequently, from the ordinary relations of actual\nlife, will enable not so much to demonstrate, indeed, as rather to\nremind you of the difference which subsists even here between a trust\nand confidence that is merely reasoned out by logical inference--a faith\nexternally assumed, and one that is the result of personal experience\nand confiding love. Thus reminding you of what in this life is manifest\nenough, I hope to set most distinctly before your eyes the difference\nwhich subsists also in the higher region of faith. Let us suppose the\ncase of a friend dangerously ill or in a state of extreme suffering, and\nwe are in search of a physician able to relieve and heal him. One is\nrecommended to us of great reputation for extensive knowledge and of a\njudgment strengthened by long experience. We are told that he has\neffected remarkable cures, that he has never been known to lose a\npatient by neglect, or by mistaking his disease, and that withal he is\nvery kind and extremely attentive. These, we are aware, are great\nrecommendations: but he is a perfect stranger to us; we feel a kind of\nreserve and restraint toward him--as yet he has not our perfect\nconfidence. How very different is the case when we ourselves have\nexperienced all this--when we ourselves have witnessed his comprehensive\nview, the number and variety of his remedies, and the penetrating glance\nof genius in the moment of danger--when with grateful recollection we\nfeel that we must ascribe to him either the preservation of some dear\none\u2019s life, or our own unhoped-for restoration to health and strength!\nSuch is the difference between a reasoning faith on rational grounds and\na personal faith based on our own experience and vivid conviction. And\nin truth this simile is not remote and far-fetched. It comes very close,\nindeed, to the matter itself, if only it be true that the soul is often\ndiseased, and that religion presents to us no inexorable lawgiver of a\nrigid rule of reason, no stern judge of severe truth, but a wise\nphysician touched with the feeling of our infirmities, and able to save\nto the uttermost.\n\nOr let us take another case, which will go still more deeply and touch\nmore nearly the very root of the social relations of life. An individual\nof high rank, as often happens, is about to enter into a lasting union\nwith one of whom he personally knows little, if any thing. In regard to\nrank and fortune, of agreeableness of person and manner, as well as\naccomplishments, not to say mental endowments, he has the best and\nstrongest assurances. But the character of youth is generally\nundeveloped. Not only may all that is morally beautiful, and every great\nand noble disposition, lie therein, but there may also be slumbering\nwithin it the violent elements of passion. It is only the full\ndevelopment of life and love that will expand the one or the other. The\nquestion, then, for one contemplating such a union is, can he have such\na confidence in the character and sentiments as naturally ought to\nprecede a union which is to last for life. She has received an excellent\neducation--she enjoys a spotless reputation--her whole family stands\nhigh in the respect and esteem of men--its friendship and society are\nevery where sought and valued, not merely for its rank and station, but\nalso for its amiable qualities. Moreover, another lady of established\ncharacter for all that is good and estimable, has the most favorable\nopinion of her, honors her with her friendship, and loves her as a\nyounger sister, or as her own daughter. All these considerations are,\nperhaps, sufficient grounds and rational warrant for an anticipatory\nconfidence in such a case. But how widely remote and how different a\nfeeling is this from that deep trusting confidence which springs up\nafter the union--which a wife\u2019s conduct instils into a husband\u2019s\nheart--when, no longer captivated by mere personal charms, but almost\nentirely forgetting them, he rather rejoices to notice and to\ncontemplate those qualities of the inmost soul, which, being most\ncongenial to his own tastes and habits, afford him a sure prospect of\nunbroken harmony and felicity in the remainder of their wedded life.\n\nIt is extremely difficult to lay down any general rule by which in\nindividual cases the boundary line may be drawn between a mere reasoning\nfaith, resting on external considerations, and one that is founded on\npersonal feeling and experience of life, in its gravest and most\ndecisive moments. Very often a confidence that in its origin was quite\narbitrarily taken up on a cold calculation of reason, will suddenly\nreceive a full confirmation, and pass into that profounder assurance\nwhich draws its strength from our own feelings and experience. And as it\nis in actual life, so it is likewise in the higher sphere of faith. In\nmatters of religion, and of science also, that which originally was\nmerely a belief of the cold and abstract reason is subsequently\ntransformed by degrees into a profound faith, rising at last into an\nabiding personal feeling, and even a deep intuition of living truth. As\na first beginning, then, and as the foundation of a better, and as the\nfirst step of a higher and fuller development, a merely rational faith\nrequires to be treated with respect and judged of with all due\nallowance. But when it is set up as perfect and complete in itself, and\nchallenging the most rigorous requisitions of science, or when it is put\nforth as sufficient in itself, then our decision must be that this\nself-devised rational belief is only a substitute for, and not faith\nitself. For this must ever be vivid and based on an immediate personal\nfeeling, and on this account full of love, and indeed both founded upon\nand proceeding from out of love.\n\nProperly, the three elements of higher life are inseparable; and it is\ntherefore extremely difficult to propound any invariable law applying to\nindividual cases, as to the order in which these three grades of\ninternal development must or ought always to succeed one another.\nEssentially they are one and indissoluble. As faith and hope are based\nupon love, so is love dependent on both the former; and this is as true\nof genuine love on earth as it is of that which lives in a higher\ndomain. If its faith be hostilely disturbed, then it loses its hope\nalso, and the very root of its existence. If hope is entirely cut off,\nit does not, indeed, lose thereby faith itself, and its object, but it\npreys on itself.\n\nThat in which all these three grades of feeling are most perfectly\nunited, blended, and fused together, is enthusiasm. All genuine\nenthusiasm is based on some exalted and elevating faith; it is a form\nand species of the higher love, and involves in itself a grand and\ndivine hope. And this is true of genuine patriotism, and of artistic\nenthusiasm, no less than of the religious, which is most akin to\nscientific, especially as the latter was understood by the ancients, and\naccording to the place it held in the Platonic philosophy. But though\nthus combining all three, enthusiasm is yet essentially distinguished\nfrom them. Enthusiasm is only an elevated state of the consciousness,\nwhich, although in capacity it admits of being durable, is generally\nregarded as transitory. Accordingly, it is of a passing state that the\nterm is generally understood. But the three degrees of feelings are\nelements of a permanently exalted consciousness--of the mind generally,\nin its highest state. And this is even that triune living consciousness,\nrestored again to perfect unity, and to fertile operation. It is even\nthat to which I have been, from the commencement of these Lectures,\ncontinually alluding, and especially in the assertion that it is\nnecessary to pass from the existing state of the consciousness--which is\nneither its fitting nor original condition--with its four parts, one of\nwhich is mostly divorced from the rest by its undue exaggeration, and to\nrevert to its higher and living constitution; which return I spoke of as\nthe essential condition of true philosophy, if not its very self. Now,\nif any should desire to give one common name to this higher, or, rather,\nhighest, state of the consciousness, inclusive of its three elements,\nand call it enthusiasm, it would be necessary to add the remark, that\nthis enthusiasm is absolutely one, universal, and of the highest kind,\nhaving for its object the divine itself: and that, moreover, it is\nabidingly permanent, and at the same time reconcilable and even really\nassociated with the most clear-sighted prudence.\n\nSome such a highly exalted and sublime conception of true enthusiasm is\nto be met with, and, indeed, predominates throughout the Platonic\nphilosophy. So far, therefore, it might be said, that the essential in\nthis _harmonic triad_ [_Dreiklang_] of Christian sentiment was not\nwholly unknown to it, even though it knew nothing of the ideas of faith\nand hope in this form or direction. Comprising all in one, it gave such\nespecial prominence to love as to make it by itself the very basis of\nscience--of that science, at least, of which alone there can be any\nquestion in the present place, the science of the inner and higher life.\nFor it considered such a science as being simply a love which has\narrived at intelligence, and has thereby become firmly fixed, and,\nmoreover, elevated to the highest degree of clearness and perspicuity.\n\nThe relation in which these three properties stand to spirit, soul, and\nsense--those three principles already mentioned of the consciousness,\nwhen in its undivided perfection it attains to a full, vivid\noperation--is somewhat of the following nature. Faith is an act of the\nspirit, by which the higher feeling, being distinguished and separated\nfrom all that is not essential, and being purely and spiritually\napprehended, is set forth as an intelligent feeling, and consequently as\na judgment, and in this light comprised in an imperishable idea. Love is\nthe turning or directing of the whole soul toward the higher and divine,\nthat is, even to God Himself. Hope, however, is the new life which\nemanates from them both, and in which the divine ideas become actual and\nactive; or, in other words, it is the internal sense and fruitful\nsusceptibility for the divine idea and its energies and influences.\n\nNow, the next problem which properly comes before us in this place of\nour exposition of the human mind, and of the degree of certainty which\nis attainable by it, is accurately to determine and to indicate the true\nintrinsic essence of science. What, then, is it to know? How is it\nbrought about and accomplished? In the next place, it will be necessary\nto explain the origin of error, which is ever opposing science, often\nimperceptibly deluding or undermining and destroying our convictions.\nThis will, then, enable us to solve the questions and difficulties\nsuggested by doubt in general, after we have once ascertained the place\nwhich is to be assigned to it in the human mind. And thus we shall at\nlast be able to determine completely, precisely, and satisfactorily, the\nrelation in which faith and enthusiasm, love and revelation, stand to\nscience.\n\nNow, in order to arrive at a full idea of science, it will be essential\nto distinguish its several elements--understanding and generalization\n[_Begreifen_], and also discernment--the different forms, too, of\nthinking--the necessary in reason, the possible in fancy, as well as the\nscientific cogitation of what is actual.\n\nBut before entering on this field of our labors, I would premise one\ngeneral remark. It refers to the nature of that certainty which we have\nto look for and may expect in philosophy, according to the idea of it\nwhich we have made the basis of our speculations, as being the noblest\nand highest manifestation of man\u2019s desire of knowledge. And here the\nexamination of the words of a great and famous thinker, with regard to\nhis own system, will best serve me for the introduction and exposition\nof my own views. The system of Spinosa--for I allude to him--is, it is\ntrue, in ill repute for its obscureness and unintelligibility. The\nremark, however, to which I refer, is wholly unconnected with his\nsystem. It is an estimate of his own knowledge, and is quite clear and\nintelligible to all, as every one will admit when I come to quote the\nwords. And, perhaps, the obscurity of his system arises chiefly from the\nmatter, and the position taken up, rather than from the author\u2019s method,\nand the form of exposition. For, if only we can once bring ourselves to\nallow that the mathematical method is suitable to philosophy, we must\npronounce Spinosa\u2019s style most excellent. It is, in fact, remarkable,\nnot only for the rigor and precision of its definitions and proofs, but\nalso for the structure of its sentences and general composition, so far\nas excellence was attainable in the modern Latin of the schools, to\nwhich, however, Spinosa has succeeded in giving a wonderful evenness and\nuniformity of expression, having handled it with a facility never before\nparalleled.\n\nAs to the system itself, and the rank which, according to the position\nhere assumed for the philosophy of life, ought to be assigned to it, it\nwill hardly be necessary to enter into a particular review. Generally we\nhave already expressed our opinion, and the judgment we should pass\nupon it may be deduced from the remarks which I formerly made when\ndistinguishing between the two directions or views which, in its search\nafter truth, present themselves to the reflecting mind for its choice\nbetween faith or doubt. One of these views of the world and things is\nbased on the idea of the living triune God, whom faith embraces, love\ndesires, and in whom all our hopes are centered. Now, this hypothesis\nimplies, by a necessary and inevitable consequence, that the world is\nnot self-existent, but, as we have all been taught, had a beginning,\nhaving been created by God out of nothing. According to the other theory\n(and to one of these every profound and truly scientific system of\nphilosophy must in its essential principles belong), the world had not a\nbeginning, but is eternal, being one with God--or, indeed, speaking\nabsolutely, _all_ is _one_, and necessary thought and necessary\nexistence are not properly and essentially distinct, but only so many\ndifferent forms or aspects of the one eternal and necessary essence.\nNow, of the latter system, according to the opinion of all competent\njudges, either of his own or our times, the work of Spinosa is the\nablest and most consistent exposition that science has ever yet\nproduced. But between these two systems and views of the universe, the\nphilosophy of life can not long hesitate. Seeking to arrive at a clear\ninsight into all that is divine, so far as it is traceable within the\nhigher life and inward consciousness, and adopting and regarding it as\nan imparted fact of an internal, no less than of an external revelation,\nshe can not be at a loss to decide between faith in a living God and\nthat idea of one necessary essence which is at the same time both God\nand the world--an idea which, making thought and being identical,\nproceeds to give to all else correspondent arbitrary definitions.\nIndeed, the question can hardly arise for the philosophy of life, or if\nit does, it may at once set it aside. Now, this general observation on\nall such systems of necessity implies, of course, the condemnation of\nthat of this great and famous thinker. It too must be at once rejected\nas fundamentally false. Such a censure, however, does not involve any\nthing of personal vituperation. All such feelings need not to be mixed\nup with it. For, in truth, it often happens that the greatest and most\nrichly endowed minds, and the most single and straightforward\ncharacters, if they once take a wrong direction, fall into the\nprofoundest, or, as they have been termed, the _most violent_ errors.\nBut in every case it is but equitable to make a distinction between the\nauthor and his system, however severe may be the judgment we pass on the\nlatter. In the case of Spinosa, too, we must bear in mind that he was by\nbirth and education a Jew. As such, he was not only without the pale of\nChristianity, but even regarded it with strong national prejudices. If,\ntherefore, his system is not consistent with the truths of religion, or,\nrather, if it even violently clashes with them, he is scarcely obnoxious\nto reproof. At least, he is not half so much open to censure as those\nwho, not having this palliation to urge, assume a hostile position\ntoward religion, while their animosity is not relieved by any splendor\nof great talents, but marked throughout by the meanness and narrowness\nof their views and the ordinary character of their scientific theory and\nsystem.\n\nThe expression of this great thinker to which I have alluded, relates to\nhis own self and the object he had in view by his literary labors--to\nhis work, in short, or system. It is contained in a letter to one of his\nmost intimate friends, and runs as follows: \u201cWhether my philosophy be\nthe very best, I know not; at least I do not wish to decide that point;\nthat, however, I have discovered the true philosophy, I have not the\nleast doubt.\u201d All this sounds modestly enough; and in all probability it\nexpresses his real sentiments and opinion. It sets up, however, a\npretension which I can not by any means admit. Spinosa here takes the\nterm philosophy in a different sense from its old and original\nsignification. Among the Greeks, the Sophists alone derived their name\nfrom a pretension to perfect wisdom and science. But the followers of a\ntrue wisdom, from Socrates\u2019s time at least, explained philosophy to be\nwhat its name imports--a desire of the highest knowledge, and a pursuit\nof divine truth. And this is the essential point which, involving a\ntotal difference of opinion, has divided the minds of men through\ncenturies and tens of centuries, and is as yet far from having attained\nto a satisfactory solution. And herein the Socratic idea of philosophy,\nwhich is also my own, receives a species of historical confirmation\nwhich that other mathematical notion of it stands still in need of. But\nto return to our author. By philosophy, as indeed is clear from his very\nsystem, he understands a perfect science and absolute truth. Now this\nperfection of knowledge does not, it is true, pretend to extend to and\nembrace all individualities. Still it is at least intensively an\nomniscience--which by the further development and expansion of what it\npossesses within itself unevolved, would in its external\ncomprehensiveness embrace every particular case. And can such infinite\nknowledge and omniscience be ascribed to any other being than God? If we\nat once acknowledged this, it would surely be more agreeable to truth to\nconsider man in this life as being merely in a preparatory state, where\nat most it is permitted him, step by step, to approximate still nearer\nto the height of knowledge. If that degree of knowledge which is\nconceded to and is attainable by man, really suffices for the wants of\nlife, we might, or, rather, to speak more properly, we must be content\nwith it. Probably even that which it is allowed to man to reach, has\nnever yet been actually attained to by any individual. And why in any\ncase are we unwilling to wait, if, as it undoubtedly remains forever\ncertain, that when this period of preparation shall have closed in that\neternity which is really life, man will in one way or another arrive at\nperfect certainty and clearness of insight into the nature of himself,\nthe world, and the Deity, and will also fully understand the now\ninscrutable relation of God to man and the universe?\n\nNow, while we regard the last half of the judgment which this great\nthinker has passed upon himself, as a pure self-delusion naturally\narising from, and, indeed, closely connected with, his whole system, we\nmust also qualify the first half, and subject it to many essential\nlimitations. The _best_ philosophy that of Spinosa most assuredly can\nnot be called, and this for two reasons. On the one hand it sets out\nwith the pursuit of mathematical certainty and precision--an end not\nattainable in this branch of human inquiry; on the other, it commences\nwith a principle fundamentally false, starting from the imaginary notion\nof absolute necessity as the original first and last _illusion of the\nreason_. Better, however, it most unquestionably is than many others,\nwhich, no less false, are with their superficial dullness, their half\ncompromise and jumble of inconsistent principles, still more pernicious.\n_Violent_ errors, to use an old phrase, are those which serve to give a\nnew impulse to science, and arousing it from its stationary point of\nimperfect development, excite it to advance one step nearer to the\ntruth. They serve to accelerate a whole crisis of movement and\ntransition. In this respect, accordingly, a system of philosophy which\nis far from good in itself, may, nevertheless, be pronounced good in a\nrelative sense. In other words, it is one the study of which may\noccasionally prove salutary and profitable. It will benefit those\nindividuals, or even a whole nation or age, who are in the very crisis\nof transition, and capable of digesting such strong meat, are healthy\nenough to elaborate such a system of error into the sound elements of\ntruth. That this opinion is by no means unduly lenient, or overtolerant,\nbut that its justice is not unsupported by historical experience, is\nproved by the history of our national philosophy in these later days.\nThus, on the German philosophy of nature, in the first stage at least of\nits development, the system of Spinosa exercised a great and decided\ninfluence, which, however, has now altogether ceased. All the most\noriginal, too, of our thinkers, whether they belonged to the older or\nlater schools, who stood aloof from all system or party, have also paid\nhis works great attention. For this they riveted by their wonderful\nsimplicity and rigor of consequence, and their loftiness of scientific\nthought, even while they failed to win a general, much less a complete\nadhesion to his theory. But this feeling is quickly fading away. A great\ninternal victory has been gained over its seductive charms, which is of\ninestimable importance to the cause of truth. It is fast quitting the\nfield of human thought and inquiry; and if it still holds its place in a\nfew minds, it forms there alone the last remaining obstacle to the\ncomplete triumph of the science of life and revelation--the last\nlingering mist of mental darkness and demoniacal illusion before the\nrising sun of a newly breaking day.\n\nIt may perhaps appear inappropriate, and indeed highly objectionable, to\nhave spoken of a pernicious system of metaphysical error before such an\naudience as the present, especially as from the first I expressed my\nunwillingness to enter at large into its details. But I have, I think, a\nfull and complete justification. A very similar, or, rather, the same\nview of the world and things as that which it propounds, and whose\nessential peculiarities I have, I think, correctly characterized as one\nof the leading branches of human error, still prevails, and is not\nconfined in its manifestations to a metaphysical form. It meets us every\nwhere in still more accessible and highly-attractive shapes--in every\nform and dimension--in the interesting but simple tale, and in the magic\ncreation of poetical pantheism. And since so many poets and other\npopular writers are a kind of half or whole, conscious or unconscious,\nSpinosists--to use this name in a wide and general sense--it would be to\naffect an unscrupulous delicacy, which would neither be in measure nor\nin season, were I to abstain from all notice of what is otherwise so\nnotorious. If the philosophy of divine experience, with its totally\ndifferent form and spirit, were but carried out as perfectly and\ncompletely as this silently-reigning system of rationalism, with its\nconsistency of error, then should we at last be able fully to\ncomprehend, and, to our great amazement, discern all that is meant by\nthis its dangerous rival, and how very much it involves.\n\nMy object has not been to make a polemical attack, and to give a\ncomplete refutation of this system. Such a design neither lay within my\nprescribed limits, nor could it be other than useless and superfluous in\na philosophy which took its position from life, and especially the inner\nand higher life. What I had chiefly in view was, to establish a precise\nand rigorous distinction between the Socratic notion of philosophy, as a\ngradual approximation to eternal truth and the first science, and that\nfalse mathematical conception of it which sets up a claim to absolute\nknowledge, and by a rigid observance of system, pretends to the\nattainment of omniscience. And this was a distinction which, both from\npersonal considerations and with regard to the present undertaking, it\nwas incumbent on me to insist upon, in order to avoid the slightest\nmisconception. Having myself long since recognized the three categories\nof an elevated consciousness--faith, hope, and love--to be also the\nessential elements and primary foundation of all higher thought and\nknowledge, so far at least as the latter, having life for its matter and\nsubject, must take life for its starting-point and foundation, I have\ntherefore publicly advanced this doctrine. Still, nothing could be more\nforeign to my whole mode of thinking and feeling, or so directly opposed\nto it, as the design of forcing adhesion to _my_ theory of faith, hope,\nand love, by the might of logical demonstration, or even the thought of\nconstraining, by the weapons of science, the convictions of any one.\nNay, even if I were gifted with magic powers of persuasion and\nirresistible eloquence, so as to be able to win the whole world over to\nmy own way of thinking, or, rather, conviction on these matters, still I\nshould have no wish to accomplish such a general concurrence in this\nmanner. Such a method would not be appropriate to this domain of\nphilosophy, and, above all, it would not be the true and right one; for\nphilosophy must ever be the fruit of one\u2019s own personal reflection, and\ninvariably spring from an immediate feeling of a want and defect within,\notherwise it can scarcely exist in reality. All teaching, therefore, or\ncommunication of philosophy, has properly no other end and aim than to\nfurnish a vivid impulse to self-reflection. Beyond this it can only\nserve to suggest the limits of a right and lawful exercise of such\nmeditation, and, by pointing out the road that leads most directly to\nthis end, to warn against the devious by-ways of error which branch out\nfrom it at every point of its path. Every one who is in earnest in the\npursuit of truth has, moreover, already within himself a principle\n[_Anfang_] of faith, hope, and love, in some shape or other, and not\nmerely a principle, but a very system of them, even though it do not\nalways manifest itself exactly in a scientific form. If every one who in\nany degree lends a sympathizing ear to my present discourses feels\nhimself in any degree confirmed by them in that principle of a higher\nfaith and love that is as yet in any degree developed in him--if he\nfeels himself moved by them to still more lofty aspirations after the\nhighest end of hope--if what to him is the center of love and life has\nbeen more fully and more clearly evolved by them--if his thoughts have\ntaken from them a clearer and more distinct order and arrangement, then\nwill the first wish and principal object of my present labors be\nperfectly realized, and attain to their fullest and completest\ngratification.\n\nWe would, therefore, for our parts, remit to God and the future all\nproperly unconditional and absolute knowledge. For, irrespectively of\nthe delusive phantom of a pretended mathematical method and rigor of\ndemonstration, which is both fundamentally false, and, moreover, totally\ninapplicable to the present sphere of inquiry, such an absolute science,\nmerely as claiming to be positive, trenches ultimately on omniscience.\nWe therefore prefer modestly to acquiesce in pretensions more suitable\nto man\u2019s position in the world. If, therefore, we confine ourselves\nwithin the prescribed limits, and are content with a gradually but\nsteadily advancing approximation to perfect truth, as it is in God, we\nshall soon find that even within these boundaries a legitimate idea of\nscience may be set up and advanced. And this science, it will quickly\nappear, not only contains within it a stable foundation of irrefragable\ncertainty, sufficient for all the wants and requisitions of life, but\nalso opens a wide space for the further exercise and development of all\ntime, thought, and cognition, and the most ample field for all genuine\nspiritual hopes and pure wishes of a higher nature. In its free\ndevelopment it is by no means subject to the narrow limits of earth;\nwhile, as resting on the firm basis of experience, it is little affected\nby doubt, which, though plied with all its acuteness and with its\nendless refinements to the very height of subtilty, shall never\nundermine or essentially injure it.\n\nI said an _idea_ [Idee] of science. I did not employ the term _notion_\n[Begriff], as in the case of the consciousness; for the latter, in all\nits completeness, is given to us by internal experience and the\nobservation of our own minds. In the case of the consciousness,\nconsequently, the only point is to set it forth in a well-ordered and\nfully comprehensive term, as completely as it is revealed to us in\nreality. But of science there can not be more than one idea. An ideal\nstandard may be set up to guide us in our attempts to attain to it, and\nto indicate the degree, measure, and method of its possible acquisition.\nAnd this idea and standard can only be derived from the highest idea of\nall--that of God, who is the eternal truth itself. It is thither that it\nmust go, as to its first source. Now this idea of science, after the\ncomplete notion of the consciousness which I have already established,\nis the second result to which our inquiries have brought us. It is the\nsecond step of progress in our present development of thought.\n\nNow this idea of science, which points to it as possible and actually\nattainable, and which also in fact leads us to it, rests on two\nassumptions. It implies, in the first place, that man must continually\nadvance to a fuller understanding of a given truth, and, having the\ncapacity, is also able to do so, if only he has a real and abiding wish\nfor it. How, indeed, can it in general be doubted, that we are not\nabsolutely incapable of understanding any given truth, when the very\nfact of its being given implies it in some degree at least, however\nlimited, and when the very apprehension of the given matters forms a\nbeginning, it may be a very imperfect one, of understanding? But, in\nthe second place, the idea of an actually attainable science rests on\nthe assumption that we are in a condition to recognize as such, and\nin its true light, the error which springs up every where in the human\nmind, and by so doing to emancipate ourselves, if not from every trace\nof its former influence, yet, at least, from its absolute dominion\nand tyranny. And since in this field of human errors we are at least\nat home, there can be no obstacle to our taking a full and complete\nsurvey of them, and taking the exact measure of their shallowness.\nThis requisition, as well as the possibility of its accomplishment,\nis fundamentally involved in that old Grecian maxim, \u201cKnow thyself,\u201d\nwhen interpreted in its more scientific sense. And in truth there is no\nground to doubt its possibility, if only a firm footing--the \u03c0\u03bf\u1f51 \u03c2\u1f61 of\nArchimedes--can be found for us out of ourselves and of the ordinary\nstate of the human consciousness. And such a stable point is actually\nfound and provided for us in the revelation of a higher truth than\nman\u2019s. That a recognition of error as such is possible, and thereby\nthe emancipation of the mind from its slavery may be facilitated, will\nbe best and most clearly evidenced by actual experiment. We must,\nthen, try to assign to each single faculty of the consciousness, in\nits present degraded and distracted state, the essential scientific\nerror which peculiarly clings to and besets its exercise, or at least\nto point out the tendency thereto which is deeply rooted therein. And\nsuch an experiment may be made successfully, if we take up our position\nin the high point of view furnished by a consciousness restored again\nto unity and harmony in God. Now, from this point of view it is, no\ndoubt, impossible, as we have already remarked, to assume or concede\nthe existence of innate ideas--at least, not in the usual and literal\nsense. Innate errors, however, may well naturally be assumed to exist\nin the first degraded state of the human mind. Not, indeed, that there\nrules in them any blind inevitable necessity, but, rather, a false\ntendency--an evil habit become a second nature--which is only in\nappearance an original imperfection. And such have been often enough\nrecognized in the illusions of imagination and the narrow limits of the\nreason; only the recognition has not been complete and total enough,\nand, consequently, not sufficiently explanatory. Indeed, the notion of\nscientific error, as innate in the human mind, must be taken exactly\nin the same light as the moral weakness and frailty of man in his\npresent condition--as being, in short, peculiar to the whole race, and\ntransmitted, as an inheritance, from generation to generation.\n\nNow, to the knowledge of error, as such, is opposed the recognition of\ntruth--the higher, that is, divinely revealed truth. And this perception\nit is that furnishes the stable point of intrinsic certainty to every\nspecies and form of human cognition. But here the question might arise\nnaturally enough: How can man recognize a truth, which, nevertheless, is\nrevealed to him from without, making himself thereby, as it were, at\nonce its master and its judge? How, in other words, can he, as it were,\nknow again that which is now first given to him, and which previously he\nwas not in possession of. In this matter the case stands almost exactly\nthe same as it does with innate ideas, which are not to be understood\nliterally as involving the hypothesis of a pre-existence of the\nsoul--and as it does with that eternal memory which, as connected with\nthe theory of innate ideas, rightly and more correctly interpreted, is\nboth justifiable and tenable. If man is to be declared totally incapable\nof this recognition of divine truth, then must he be first stripped of\nall the high prerogatives which the Almighty has bestowed upon him above\nthe rest of the natural creation. The very last trace and vestige of the\ndivine image that is in him must be erased and destroyed. Among these\nendowments, that which we may well call the dangerous privilege of free\nwill holds neither the last nor the lowest place. God created man free,\nand free he is even in his relation to God. It is left to man\u2019s choice,\nwhether he will or not acknowledge the Deity above him. But this being\nthe case, this free and unconstrained acknowledgment, so far as the\nchoice is rightly made, by no means involves any exaltation of man\u2019s\njudgment above the law of God. On the contrary, it is nothing more than\na free and voluntary assent to the divine. However, it is the inward\nexperience that we have here to consider. For the facts and external\ndata of mere experimental sciences can only so far belong to our present\nconsideration, as they bear upon the inner experience of the\nconsciousness and the knowledge of human nature--as well upon that more\nexalted experience (which is indeed contained in the former) of a higher\ndestination imported and announced to man by God. And this is the case\nwith history or language. It is exactly in this relation that a\nscientific knowledge of either stands to our present subject. But not\nonly language, but every object also in the whole domain of human\ninquiry--in the vast realms of art and nature--belongs thereto, or may\nbe made a part of it, if only it stands in or admits of being brought\ninto this relation to the inward and higher experience. Now this\nunderstanding of the truth that is above man, which is ever growing in\nclearness and brightness--this perfect recognition of whatever is\nerroneous and false--this ever-advancing comprehension of the actual, so\nfar as the latter lies within its limits, form the three grades or\nspheres of science which, even according to this idea of it, may\nunquestionably be regarded as possible, and founded also on the actual\nand real.\n\nThe latter is an important point; as to all else, the different ways,\nmethods, and directions of thought belong to the outward form, rather\nthan to the intrinsic essence of science. Essentially, there is but one\nlaw and standard for all ways and modes of thinking. The necessary\nthought of the reason, with its strict logical concatenation, no less\nthan the possible thinking of the scientific imagination, with its\ngenerally symbolical dress, must, if it would not lapse into error, and\nbecome ultimately null and vain, adhere to the actual and real, and\nstand and maintain itself on the firm soil of experience. It is only\nwhen the necessary cogitation sets out from reality that it is truly\nnecessary; and in like manner is it with the possible. If it does not\nrest on the firm basis of the actual, it is not really possible and\nactually attainable. Without this intrinsic gravity and point of rest,\nthe mathematical method, with its pretended rigor of demonstration, no\nless than the most ingenious but arbitrary hypotheses, are perpetually\noscillating through the wide realms of infinite space--like pure\nfictions--not, however, like good fictions based on realities, for such\noften possess a deep and profound significance, but like thoroughly\nunmeaning and aimless figments, and unsubstantial phantasms. Against the\nintrinsic reality of the mind\u2019s experience and its science, which is\nbuilt upon this foundation of a recognition and understanding of what is\nrevealed and imparted to it, of an acknowledgment of what is spurious\nand false, and of a comprehension of the actual and real, all the doubts\nof skepticism avail little, or, properly speaking, nothing. If, however,\nwe set out from the unconditional science of reason, holding it and\nconsidering it really to be such, then there is no longer any safeguard\nto keep us from falling headlong into the bottomless abyss of endless\ndoubt. In such a case, the human mind may for a time be lulled into a\ncalm, which, however, is any thing but a true and perfect serenity.\nBetween that arbitrary faith which is the mere creation of the reason,\nand devised for the express purpose of filling the profound void which\nman must feel so long as his heavenward aspirations are unsatisfied, and\nthe endless doubts of his intellect, there is at best but a temporary\nand passing truce: it is no true peace. It is like some \u201c_Concordat_,\u201d\nwhich, effected with the greatest difficulty, and ever on the point of\nbeing dissolved by the mutual jealousy of the contracting parties to it,\ndoes but leave each member to follow his own devices, so long as he\nengages to abstain from all hostile interference with the other. In such\na case, a complete and harmonious co-operation of the mind\u2019s hitherto\ndivided and estranged faculties is not for a moment to be thought of.\nThat, however, must be sought by a very different path.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE VIII.\n\n\nIn the domain of art it is an old and established opinion, not only that\na peculiar genius is required for its original creations, but also a\nspecial sense or feeling is indispensable for a correct appreciation and\nestimate of the works produced by the former. Indeed, we can hardly call\nit an opinion; its validity is so universally acknowledged, that it is\nacted upon as a principle. In the same way the Platonic philosophy\nassumes for its foundation an enthusiastic aspiration after divine truth\nand a higher knowledge of it. Moreover, as it sets out from a\nconsciousness elevated and expanded by enthusiasm, so it looks to the\nsame for access and adoption. And this is the source of that affinity\nbetween this species of philosophy and an artistic enthusiasm which is\ntraceable in all ages and nations, however widely different in the\ngeneral character of their minds, among whom the former has in any\ndegree manifested itself, assuming, every where, if not the shape of\ndialogue, yet some other equally beautiful form of exposition. Hence,\ntoo, so far, at least, as this is possible in the domain of science, the\npoint of view of this philosophy is predominantly artistic. The more,\nthen, that in modern days, and especially among German writers, the\nschool form has become prevalent in science generally, and especially in\nphilosophy, the greater is the merit of those who have striven to give\nto philosophy this artistic elegance and structure, or, at least, to\npreserve it and restore it to favor. And even if any be disposed to set\nless value upon this artistic grace and enthusiasm for the beautiful in\nphilosophy than, in my opinion, is due to it, they must, at least, admit\nthat it tends to promote a more liberal and comprehensive culture of the\nmind. On this account it is surely to be defended, and deserves our most\nfavorable judgment. This remark does not apply, exclusively, to our own\nGerman literature and culture, and that devotion to the arts of the\nbeautiful which is so peculiar to our countrymen; it has a general\nreference to all modern nations. A more artistic feeling is a universal\nwant of the times to counteract the prevailing school form, and the\npreponderating mathematical view of the world, or, at least, a\npredominantly mathematical cast of mind. Accordingly, Hemsterhuys, who,\nin philosophy, adopted a view similar to, if not identical with, the\nPlatonic, though writing in the French language, which was not his\nvernacular tongue, has labored with a masterly hand to give to his style\nthe exquisite beauty of art. But still, notwithstanding this common\naffinity and enthusiasm for the beautiful, a distinction exists, and\nmust ever remain, between the scientific notion of beauty and the mere\nartistic conception of it, and that fanciful view of the world and\nthings which is derived from and dependent on it. For, according to the\nlatter, the highest beauty is to the poet and artist nothing less than\nthe height of truth, as, indeed, it really is of poetic and artistic\ntruth. But, to the view of science, between the divine and eternal truth\nand beauty, even the highest beauty, there is, and ever must remain, a\ncertain degree of distance, which, if it do not amount to an interval,\nis yet, nevertheless, a line of demarkation. Eternal truth is even God\nhimself. And if, occasionally, in the Platonic philosophy, the Prime\nBeing is distinguished and designated as the archetype of beauty, this\nis but a loose way of speaking, not exactly consistent with scientific\naccuracy. For, according to the latter, the excellence of beauty is but\na perfect mirror, or a pure reflection of eternal perfection, but not\neternal perfection itself. Indeed, in order to express its perfect\npurity from all admixture, and from every the least stain of the\nsensible world, as well as from every mist of earthly delusion that\notherwise might cling to and encircle it, I should prefer to call it the\nholy beauty, rather than the archetype of beauty, or even the height of\nbeauty. For the latter shifts and varies with the subjective tastes of\nindividuals. One man sees the standard of beauty in an Apollo, another\nin some other equally sublime and highly-finished god-form of ancient\nstatuary.\n\nWhat, then, is this beauty, according to the pure and original notion of\nit, and relatively to reality? For, according to the principle which the\nphilosophy of life assumes, we must trace every thing back to the real\nand the actual--to the actual and the real of nature and of earth, or\nelse to one that is higher and more spiritual, nay, even Godlike. What\nplace, then, does beauty here hold? what is its relation to the rest of\ncreation, or, still more generally, to the whole created universe and\nits author? What is it in and by itself, and in truth?\n\nNow, in that sacred language which treats of holy things, and devotes to\nthem well and carefully-weighed expressions and terms, mention is made\nof a wisdom created in the beginning, and before all time. As,\ntherefore, it is said to be created, it is plain that by it is not\nmeant, and that we must not confound with it, that uncreated and eternal\nwisdom who is elsewhere called the Almighty Word, by whom the whole\nsystem of nature, and all things, were created in their original beauty.\nNow this created wisdom, which, consequently, as such, is also a\ncreature--what else is it than the thought, the image, the expression\nand impress of the hidden and internal essence of the Deity--wherein its\ninapproachable depth and unfathomable abyss are outwardly projected and\nrendered visible? Is it not, in short, the exact mirror and unsullied\nreflection of the divine perfections? But, however we may choose to name\nand describe it, the creature--even though its creation may have been\nbefore the whole world, and even before time itself--must always be kept\ndistinct from the uncreated Being of eternity and omnipotence, who,\nmoreover, called the former into existence. Now, if we were to apply to\nthis created wisdom the expression of \u201ca soul of God,\u201d which was\nformerly employed by a few writers, but which was soon allowed to fall\nagain into disuse, from a dread of the misapprehensions it might\npossibly lead to, it would give, perhaps, a good sense. It might thus\nserve to distinguish this, the first of all creatures, in its pure and\noriginal beauty, from a mere soul of the world, or of nature, however\nideally conceived. Only, in that case, care must be taken to keep in\nremembrance, that such a mode of speaking can only apply to a creature,\nand that of such alone is it allowable so to speak. For--in correctness\nof language and in the true meaning of words--a soul, as being, on the\nwhole, and predominantly, a passive faculty, can not be attributed to\nGod, in whom all is infinite power and pure activity, and who, as such,\never worketh and never ceases in His infinite operations.\n\nIt is this, the first of all created things, which, with its pure\nsplendor, lights up in brilliancy whatever in the rest of creation still\nretains aught of childlike innocence and blessed purity. It is the inner\ncharm, the spiritual flower of nature, the hidden germ of that\nparadisiacal loveliness which, though veiled in this terrestrial\nshroud, still gleams forth occasionally. It is even that sacred beauty\nwhich fills to the full the true artist\u2019s soul, even though he is never\nable fully and completely to realize it. It is that for which the\nthinker, in his inspired enthusiasm, seeks in vain for words and\nexpressions. All the forms and terms of language fail to reach its high\nexcellence. For, in fact, so long as man, holding it to be a pure ideal,\nregards it as nothing but a thought or notional relation, he can not but\nfail to seize and apprehend this mystery of love in all its living\nreality.\n\nAnd here it is that I would apply the words, already quoted, of a great\nthinker. They were used by him in reference to his own system of science\nand philosophy; and though in my application they relate to a very\ndifferent matter, it is, nevertheless, one which has an intimate bearing\non the first science. Slightly modifying his words, then, I would thus\nsay: whether the notion of beauty I have here advanced be for the artist\nabsolutely the right one--_i.e._, whether it be perfectly satisfactory\nand sufficient, or whether in its special application to a particular\nbranch of art, and in the actual execution of any given work, it\nrequires several intermediate notions and means of transition, and\nwhether, moreover, several elements equally essential must concur\ntherein--that I know not, or at least I make no assertion about it. And\nindeed, I see clearly enough that even for art and its perfect\nrealization, something else is wanting besides the pure idea of beauty\nalone. This, however, I do know and am quite certain of, that, viz., the\nnotion of beauty which I have here advanced, and besides which scarcely\nanother will be found, is the true and right Christian notion, of which\nall the statues of heathen gods, all fantasies of nature, all mental\nideas, are but single rays, faint memorials, corporeal images, or mere\nscattered and mutilated fragments.\n\nThe thought, too, of that blissful state in the infancy of\ncreation--when sorrow had as yet no existence, and evil, with its many\nwoes, was not--is a notion not insignificant, but full, rather, of rich\ninfluences for the higher and more spiritual aim of art, and especially\nfor the deeper and profounder essence of poetry. I have, indeed, already\nalluded to this notion; and I revert to it because I feel it is one\nwhich does not deserve to be so totally neglected as it usually is. Now,\nthe higher poesy was termed, in consideration of that Godlike idea of\neternal hope which predominates in it, the dawn of an uprising morn in\nthe world of intellectual culture and poetic fancy; but at the same time\nI remarked that it was accompanied by a mournful recollection of a great\nforetime, long since passed away and departed. Not that this sad\nbackward looking to a lost infantine happiness of the first times is in\ndiscord with or in opposition to the hopes of the rising dawn. Rather\nmust it be regarded as in harmony with it. For this feeling is, as it\nwere, the reflection of that hope--the same light thrown back from yet\nanother side--even as the lovely hue of the sky at eventide, and the\nbright rays of the breaking dawn, make a kindred impression on the\nfancy. In this respect we might almost venture to say of poetry and its\ninmost essence, that it is but the spiritual echo of the soul--a\nsorrowful remembrance of a lost paradise. I do not mean that the latter\nand its history, such as it is transmitted to us, or even as it has been\nhandled by the English poet, is the only fitting or even a particularly\nhappy subject for poetry. I allude rather to that paradisiacal state of\nuniversal nature throughout the whole globe--creation\u2019s state of\ninfantine happiness, before it was ruined by revolt from God.\n\nA note of these paradisiacal remembrances, a sorrowful _memento_ of this\nheavenly innocence and primal beauty of a new-born world, seems like an\ninward and animating soul to breathe in--or as a thread of higher and\nintenser life, to run through--all the songs and exquisite delineations\nof a more than earthly poesy. Not that this ray of light ought or ever\ncould form by itself the subject-matter of the finished work of any true\npoet. His subjects are generally, and indeed must be, somewhat more\ncorporeal, being drawn for the most part from history and from life.\nWhat I formerly said of divine hope applies here also. Even while the\npicture of reality which is set forth is worked out most elaborately,\nwith accurate observation of all its little and nicest traits, this\npurely spiritual and almost unearthly tone ought, nevertheless, to be\npresent. It must be found there as the inner soul of the whole, however\nveiled beneath the outer world that is portrayed in the story. No work,\nhowever, in which this inner thread of life is totally wanting, is or\never will be in its essence more than simple prose, even though in form\nit be verse. Art it may have unquestionably, and wit, a story, and\nirony; all in short, that can be wished--any thing but poetry. For,\nexcept where its true notion is either already lost or fast\ndisappearing, the idea of poetry can not possibly be separated from that\nof enthusiasm. The calm, cold poetry of the head, if such can for a\nmoment deserve the name, is to the true inspired poetry of enthusiasm in\nthe same relation that the spurious faith of the pure reason stands in\nto the living faith of the full feeling which springs out of a profound\npersonal conviction and love.\n\nNow, the full essence of this enthusiasm, which, according to the\nPlatonic notion of it, takes in all things in its embrace, is in the\nChristian harmonic triad of faith, hope, and love, dissolved, as it\nwere, into its three time-forms. For though faith has its root in the\npresent, still, in every case, it looks backward to some past, whether\nof an extant or still earlier revelation, which at the same time it\nembraces and adopts into itself. And even in that faith which admits the\nrevelations of history, or that practical faith which, in the ordinary\ntransactions of life, places its trust in human testimony and the\nrecorded facts of experimental science (since even out of the domain of\nreligion faith is inseparably mixed with all that man thinks or\ndoes)--in all these kinds of faith a similar reference to the past might\neasily be pointed out. To the future it is that hope directs itself,\nwhile in love there reigns a full and intense feeling of the present.\nAnd even so of God\u2019s everlasting love--this, too, has ever been and\nalways must be understood as a full, intense, and abiding feeling of a\nnever-ending present, which, without beginning and without end, goes on\nforever in abiding felicity. Besides this subdivision into three\nbranches or elements, species or forms, there is yet another character\nby which these three fundamental Christian feelings are essentially\ndistinguished from the single and all-embracing one of enthusiasm. To\nthis distinction I have already alluded, and it consists in this, that\nwhereas enthusiasm indicates nothing more than a passing state of a more\nintense consciousness, the three categories above mentioned contain not\nmerely a transient but a permanent enhancement of it, or, in other\nwords, a consciousness which has really become higher and more intense,\nand as such, endures in full self-possession and inward enlightenment.\nAccordingly, when we are speaking of the relation of faith to knowledge,\nthis scheme of the fundamental feelings of Christianity seems in the\nhighest degree appropriate to that philosophy which undertakes to show\nthe connection between knowledge and faith, and the passage from one to\nthe other. For it is in truth well calculated to lead to this end, even\nmore rapidly and more surely than the Platonic fundamental principle of\nenthusiasm, notwithstanding the profound and essential affinity which\nsubsists between these two views of the world and things.\n\nWith respect to the relation of faith to knowledge: we must remember\nthat the positive dogmas of a fixed definite creed belong to theology,\nand lie altogether out of the domain of philosophy. For though a truly\nlearned exegesis of Holy Writ most unquestionably demands a truly\nphilosophical spirit, it is not philosophy itself. And this applies also\nto ecclesiastical tradition, as running parallel to and co-ordinate with\nwritten revelation. This enlarged assumption, however, of a twofold\nsource for deducing a knowledge of the truths necessary to be believed,\nand for their dogmatic interpretation, as touching on a particular\nprovince of history, or as some, perhaps, will rather say, a\ncontroverted point of church authority, must be left to theology to\ndiscuss and decide. It does not fall within the true limits of\nphilosophy, which properly is concerned only with faith in general, and\nthe notion thereof relatively to knowledge. And here comes in the\ngreatest of the distinctions between the philosophy of life (which is\nfounded both on an external and also an internal and higher experience,\nbeing itself a science of experience) and the philosophy of absolute\nreason. The relation between faith and knowledge, as respectively\nestablished by them, is thoroughly and essentially different. According\nto that absolute view of the world and things which rests on and springs\nfrom a pure and necessary rational science, faith and knowledge stand in\nabsolute opposition to each other. The only connection into which they\ncan possibly enter is that by which faith is called in to the aid of\nreason, and in order to supply its deficiencies. When, for instance, the\nunconditional science can not by itself attain to fullness and\nperfection of knowledge, or, after all its labors, finds itself standing\nunsatisfied even within its own domain, then the transition is made\nforcibly, and, as it were, by a great and sudden leap into the opposite\nand totally different domain of reason, in order to seek there refuge\nand protection from itself. And this indeed is the only way still open,\nif not to a complete reconciliation between the two, yet, at least, to\na peaceful compromise of the respective claims of knowledge and of\nfaith. Quite different, however, is the relation between them, as set\nforth by the philosophy of life, which takes its position in experience\nand the knowledge which is based thereon. For, in the first place, faith\nand knowledge are not so rigorously separated, nor so absolutely\ndistinguished in it as they are in the preceding system. And, secondly,\nas regards the order and succession of the two: here, in the wide field\nof man\u2019s experience, both inward and outward, in nature and in his own\nself, it is faith for the most part that furnishes the beginning and\nfoundation of knowledge, which, however, as such is incomplete, and\nrequires further development. We have already remarked, that the\npositive dogmas of a particular faith, together with the scientific\ninvestigations appropriate to them, form a special domain of higher\nexperience. This is a statement which scarcely requires any labored\nproof. And we need not dwell on it further than to remind you, that even\nhere the faith, so far as it is dogmatically propounded, forms the\nfoundation. In this higher region faith is the first and that which\nmakes the beginning, while the knowing forms the further development.\nDescending into its particular applications, the latter furnishes an\nexplanation, or, rather, elucidation, of the whole. Still it must all\nthe while adhere faithfully to the fact of a revelation, and maintain\nits authority over the rational principle which otherwise seeks to\ndepress, and does often actually overbear it. And so is it also with the\nfirst awakening of the consciousness. And even in experimental science,\nthe order between faith and knowledge is exactly the same. In actual\nlife, too, every great enterprise begins with and takes its first step\nin faith. In faith Columbus, compass in hand, and firmly relying on its\nrevelations, traversed, in his frail bark, the wide waters of an unknown\nocean. In this faith he discovered a new world, and thereby opened a new\nera in the history of science and of man. For all his inquiries, all his\nthirst and search after information, all his thinking, guessing, and\nsupposing, did not as yet amount to a complete knowing--by such means he\ncould not succeed in working out a full conviction, either for himself\nor for others. It was the given fact, the unquestionable proof of actual\nexperience, that first exalted his bold conception into true and perfect\ncertainty. In a greater or less degree this is the course by which all\nthe great discoveries in science have been made; passing by a slow but\nstill advancing process of thought from faith up to knowledge. And the\nsame character of faith is stamped on every great and decisive act,\nevery important event in the history of individuals or of nations. And\nif, in contrast with these grander phenomena, an instance be required\nfrom the first and almost unnoticeable beginnings of consciousness, I\nwould refer to the first time that, with manifest purpose, the infant\nseeks and finds for itself its mother\u2019s breast. But perhaps the force of\nthis illustration may be questioned, as being drawn from what might be\ncalled a mere gratification of an animal want. I shall therefore take\none which borders closely indeed on the former, but which does not\nappear to be so immediately connected, not to say identical, with\ninstinct. We will take, then, the second moment of consciousness--that\nat which the child regards its mother for the first time, full,\napparently of reflection, and, certainly of attention and meaning, as it\nwere with a wish to say something, if it had the power to talk. And this\neye, upturned for the first time, full of love and meaning, what is it\nbut the first look of faith? And though even this opening dawn of\nconsciousness involves a certain distinction and recognition, it is\nstill very far from the certainty of knowledge. And is not the former\ninstance highly appropriate and well fitted to illustrate the relation\nin which man stands to God? For that paternal heart, which, as the\nliving pulse of omnipotence, beats sensibly in the boundless\nuniverse--is it not also, as it were, the full maternal fountain at\nwhich the immortal spirit imbibes its first milk, and indeed all its\nnourishment for eternity? In short, at the vivid point of experience,\nthe first--the still delicate and innocent--beginnings of feeling are\nvery often in close contact with the full maturity of the most\nenlightened knowledge, expanded and elevated to the height of its\nInfinite source.\n\nAt this point, then, of living experience, faith and knowledge are not\nso sharply separated from, or so unconditionally opposed to, each other\nas is commonly thought. The relation of faith to knowledge is that\nnearly of the beginning to the consummation. Such, too, is the case with\nexperience and revelation, as the data of all scientific knowledge.\nThese two also stand in close dependence on each other. Their mutual\nrelation is something similar to that of the external manifestation to\nthe inward energy--of the visible body to its animating principle, or\nto that inward spark of light which the body serves as an organ and\nvehicle, or as an outward garb and veil. In history, and in every\nscience that in any way deserves to be called historical, the spirit or\nmind has been long and generally acknowledged to be the first and only\nthing that gives to the whole its true worth. And in the domain of\nphysical science, which of all branches of mere empirical knowledge is\nthe most comprehensive and most extensive, the case is precisely\nsimilar. The externally given phenomenon of the fact or natural object\nthat is under consideration, forms only the outward investiture and is\nto be regarded as the mode of manifestation--the visible form--of the\ninner life, and law which rules within it. And man\u2019s chief object in\ninvestigating the former is, if possible, to pierce its shroud, and to\nseize and to discover the inward law of life, as all that is most\nessential, and as the germ of existence, which is wrapped up and hidden\nin the outward and sensible veil. Many of the special branches of\nphysical inquiry, such as botany and mineralogy, can only be considered\nas preparatory labors, which are to furnish the materials and apparatus\nfor future science to act upon, and not really as sciences. When all the\nfacts of mineralogy shall have been brought under one great and\nuniversal law--when the isolated results of anatomical research and\nobservation can be reduced to one common physiological idea--when\nchemistry, by its exclusive analysis, and decomposition of matter into\nits ultimate elements, shall be able to discern, in the different gases\nand other imponderable agents, the various forms of the invisible\nprinciple of things--when a higher range of physical research shall\npenetrate the grand primal phenomena of the electric shock, of magnetic\nattraction, and the prismatic decomposition of light, and its artistic\nimitation for scientific purposes, then only shall we be able to remove\nthe last veil which shrouds the mysteries of nature.\n\nFor the whole effort of natural science is indefatigably directed to\nreaching to that hidden center of life through external existence, of\nwhose inner light and splendor the whole corporeal mass of the sensible\nworld is but the broken and multiplied reflection, and empirical science\nbut the chemical precipitate, the gross material residuum of its pure\nand spiritual truth. It is to this that all the results of science point\nand tend; every investigation in the domain of natural history, which\nin any degree pretends to be philosophical, likewise leads to this\nconclusion. Assuming, then, the existence of a God as the Creator of the\nworld, what else can nature be than a revelation of God and divine\nlove--a visible manifestation thereof in outward and material matter?\nAnd how, if otherwise conceived of, can it ever be understood or\ncomprehended? Supposing also (what at the first we may very well allow)\nthat even from this point of view much remains obscure, enigmatical, and\nunintelligible to us--still these incomprehensible, or, rather,\nuncomprehended, matters are merely a few individual instances. The\nwhole, nevertheless, will, on this hypothesis, be found full of deep\nsignificancy, and satisfactory, not only to the feelings, but even to\nthe inquiring and questioning intellect. But, according to the opposite\nview of the universe, though many, or, let us say, very many individual\nfacts in nature may be acutely explained and scientifically understood;\nstill the whole, if it be not looked upon as a revelation from God, but\na peculiar self-existent entity, remains forever an enigmatical mass of\nindissoluble complications. Stripped by this hypothesis of its higher\ndesign of leading man onward to the divine, it becomes, for him at\nleast, perfectly unmeaning. But when, on the contrary, the universal\nsystem of nature is regarded as the unfolding and visible revelation of\nthe hidden majesty of the Creator, then, together with that other one\nwhich is written and contained in the divine law and sacred records, it\nforms one consistent whole. Holy Writ and nature, according to this\nview, appear two mutually explanatory and supplemental halves of that\nbook of God which is written on the inside and the out. The inner voice\nof conscience also has often, and indeed from the very earliest times,\nbeen represented as a revelation, though of a different kind; and the\nmoral feeling and its peculiar law have been supposed to be frequently\nopposed to, or at least wholly independent of, nature and the natural\nlaw. But even this internal revelation is also double, like the external\none of Holy Writ and of nature. For in its negative prohibitions, in its\ngentle or terrible, but ever-distinct warnings, as well as in its\npositive requisitions, it is quite distinct from its other form as a\nfeeling of devotion and of mental prayer, or of an illimitable\naspiration after God and divine things. And it is by no means allowable\nto confound or mix up these two distinct forms. For the one is\nuniversal, however variable in its degrees of intensity; whereas the\nother manifesto itself rather by way of exception as an individual\nvocation, or, if the term be preferred, as a peculiar genius for piety,\nand a special sensibility for holy thoughts and feelings.\n\nNow this fourfold divine revelation, embracing the two external branches\nof Scripture and of nature, and the two inner ones of conscience and\ndevotion, has its seat in the four faculties of the lower order which\nhave so repeatedly been brought before our consideration. For the memory\nis the organ of its written and oral transmission and perpetuation--nay,\nof writing and language generally, according to the intimate connection\nwhich subsists between them. And in the next place, the external senses,\nwith which we may also associate an immediate intuition into the depths\nand mysteries of nature, are the organs for perceiving and understanding\nthe sensible phenomena. Lastly, there is conscience, and, on the other\nside, a longing after God and divine things, as the highest and most\nenhanced degree of human pursuit--of the profoundest aspiration of man\u2019s\nsoul, and the purest desire of his spirit. For it is even here, in these\nsubordinate faculties, where the deep decline and gross degeneracy of\nthe human mind in its present state most strikingly displays itself,\nthat a susceptibility for improvement is first excited. Here springs the\nearliest impulse to return to the higher state from which we have\nfallen. Here the divine seed of resuscitation soonest expands itself,\nrevivifying and restoring to its pristine worth and dignity the morbid\nand lifeless consciousness. The internal revelation, however, of\ndevotion and prayer must be regarded as clearly distinct from, and as\nlying altogether out of, the domain of philosophy, even as the learned\nexposition of Scripture, and a scientific study thereof, forms a\npeculiar branch of intellectual pursuit. But though philosophy must not\nbe mixed up with it, yet on the other hand it must not lapse into, or\ninseparably identify itself with, a pure mysticism of devotional\nfeelings, or, if the term be preferred, a theory of prayer, and a mere\ncontemplative meditation on the Deity and divine things. And the reason\nis obvious: devotion, with its mystical feelings, must necessarily and\nabsolutely attach itself to the positive data of a fixed dogmatic faith.\nFor in such alone can it find, not only a definite form and a\nmaturely-developed external shape, but also an inner assurance for\nitself as well as a safeguard against the possible errors of\nfanaticism.\n\nAnd here, however, it must not be forgotten that the intrinsic essence\nof divine longing, as well as of all other holy feelings, can never be\nor seem alien and repugnant to the philosophy of life, which indeed\ntakes its rise out of this very center of a high and holy love. On the\ncontrary, it must always be intimately associated with and amicably\ndisposed toward it. The philosophy of life, therefore, even while it\ncarefully guards against falling into a mere exposition and commentary\nof Scripture, may freely borrow from the old Scriptural language its\nawful spiritual phrases and its vividly forcible expressions. It would,\nin fact, be an overstrained pedantry, and an excessive affectation of\nscientific purism, were it to wish to avoid it. Still it is necessary to\ndraw a precise line of demarkation between religion and philosophy, and\ncarefully to observe their limits. And in the same manner, philosophy\nwill abstain from an undue encroachment on the province of natural\nhistory, or on the domain of ethics where the internal revelation of\nconscience furnishes the basis of all moral legislation. At least it\nwill keep from so doing as long as it is anxious to preserve its true\ndignity as a philosophy of life, and of thought and science in general,\nand fears to degrade itself by becoming nothing more than a special\nbranch and application, either as mere morals or natural philosophy.\nThis, however, does not preclude from it the liberty of occasionally\nentering even deeply into them, or of taking a general survey of their\nresults, or borrowing largely from their facts, as pregnant instances,\nremarkable phenomena and similes, in order to make this remote region\nillustrate its own sphere, though properly they do not belong to it.\nPhilosophy has enough to do with what really forms the subject-matter\nand contents of its own province, without seeking to enlarge it by any\nextraneous addition.\n\nNow, to these four forms or sources of a higher revelation, both\ninternal and external, a fifth remains to be added. It constitutes, as\nit were, their common bond of union--the center at which, converging and\ncoming into contact, they exercise a mutual influence, and, adjusting\nand accommodating themselves to one another, combine in living union and\nperfect harmony. This we would designate by the general name of a\nrevelation of eternal love. But a revelation of eternal love in man, and\nnot merely such a one as we might, with good reason, pronounce nature\nand the whole creation to be. And even when we say _in man_, we do not\nmerely mean thereby such as is revealed in his instinctive emotions of\ndevotion and religion, but that, rather, which speaks out in man\u2019s most\nuniversal feeling, and in his profoundest and intensest consciousness.\nBut if love itself is nothing but the pure idea, the inmost spirit and\nessential energy of all true life, and especially of that which is\nhighest and most exalted, then must this revelation of love be\npre-eminently the subject-matter of the philosophy of life. For it is\neven the rich and intrinsic center of the other four sacred sources of\ndivine revelation, and out of it all higher life, thought, faith, and\nscience, flows into the soul of every man that has any susceptibility\nfor such exalted excellence. This remark, moreover, implicitly\ndetermines the relation which both faith and enthusiasm (according to\nthe Platonic notion of it) hold in general to science, and also to\nrevelation and love, though, indeed, with respect to the latter, it is\nonly inchoately and in outline that it is so fixed.\n\nBut, in order fully to work out and complete the idea of science,\naccording to all those external relations which we have already laid\ndown, it will be necessary to examine the several elements of this idea\nin their internal coherence, and also, by means of contrast with a\ncomplete evolution of the system of inborn error, to set them in the\nfullest and clearest light.\n\nWe have already declared and enumerated the several elements and\ndegrees, or species and constituents which, together, make up scientific\nknowledge. First of all, there is the understanding and explaining, the\ndiscerning and distinguishing. In the second place comes the living\ncogitation or complete comprehension of the actual, which forms the true\ncenter of scientific knowledge, if not its very self; and, lastly, that\nwhich is closely connected therewith, the immediate perception and\nrecognition of truth, and an inward feeling of certainty. All these,\nhowever, are more or less falsified and led astray by the principal of\nthose scientific errors which are innate in man\u2019s mind--which sometimes\nsecretly undermine, and, at last, totally subvert and destroy them.\nFirst of all, the living thought is often converted into a dead\ncogitation, being carried away from its natural direction toward the\nactual, and misled to an unsubstantial pursuit of empty abstractions.\nThe total confusion of ideas which this leads to is fatal to all\ndistinctness and precision of understanding, and renders it impossible\nto have a clear discernment and correct judgment of things. And then, in\nthis bottomless abyss, the firm foundation of actual truth and inward\ncertainty sinks and is swallowed up.\n\nEvery one, indeed, of the four fundamental faculties of the human mind\ncontains, in itself, a faulty disposition and pernicious germ of a\nspecial and precise form of scientific error, which establishes and\nfully develops itself in its appropriate domain, and which, when\ncircumstances are favorable, is matured and shaped into a system of\nfalsehood. It is chiefly in the visible consequences of its further\ndevelopment, and, also, by the intrinsic inconsistencies in which it is\ninvolved by the unfounded assumption from which it sets out at the very\nfirst, that each of these abortions of unsubstantial and empty\ncogitation is most easily detected. And, in fact, in the history of the\nhuman mind and philosophy, and even of science generally, the essential\ncharacters of these leading phases of scientific aberration are only too\ndistinctly legible to him who contemplates that great intellectual\npicture with an eye unblinded by prejudice.\n\nThe error most peculiar to the reason, and which, in its domain, springs\nup almost indigenously, is one that has already been frequently\nmentioned--viz., the phantom, of the unconditional, or the delusion of\nabsolute necessity. Now, all the data on which man\u2019s knowledge must be\nbased have a triple source; they are presented to him from within, from\nabove, and from without. But the reason, which is the faculty of the\nlogical connection of ideas, and of the logical necessity which rules in\nthat connection, often quits this safe and solid ground of reality, as\npresented to it in triple experience, whether of revelation and history,\nor of natural science, and resting entirely on itself, tries to build\nexclusively on its own foundation. Whenever, therefore, it attempts this\nimpossibility, it invariably copies the mathematical method of\ndemonstration. And so there immediately springs up the false semblance\nof a necessary knowledge. As the faculty of logical thinking, the reason\nis at the same time a power of endless progressive development. To\ninvent, however, to create and to produce, is absolutely beyond its\ncapacity; and it forfeits its own rights, whenever, abandoning the\npursuits most appropriate, and assigned to it by nature, it usurps the\nprerogatives of an inventive and productive faculty, and thereby gives\nbirth to the abortions of false metaphysical systems.\n\nWhen, however, the firm basis and sure principle of some real and actual\nfact is once given, then the further scientific development, derivation,\nand wider deduction from this first foundation may be carried\nillimitably onward. There exists no cause at all why we should wish to\nset bounds to its advance. For were we to do so, we should perhaps\nafterward discover that they had been drawn either too narrowly or too\nprematurely; as, indeed, has already been too often done in many a\nbranch of mathematical science. And, even because it is exactly in\nmathematics that the illimitable procedure of scientific development\nmanifests itself most signally and most brilliantly, and is at the same\ntime not inconsistent with the greatest rigor of form and certainty, if\nonly it originally sets out from a stable principle of actual reality,\nthis science will furnish, perhaps, the most appropriate and pertinent\nillustration. And, indeed, the more so, as the prejudice still subsists\nin men\u2019s minds, that the first foundation of mathematical science is an\noriginal invention of the reason--a pure product of the internal\nintuitions of the intellect, and that this science stands quite apart\nfrom all other so-called sciences of experience. But in its first\ndevelopment and acquisition, this is very far from being the case. If we\ncould only observe in others, or could in our own case recall to mind\nhow long it is before a child can actually count three, or clearly\nseparate from itself the external objects it perceives, or learns to\ndistinguish between any two objects, or between them and itself, we\nshall be forced to admit that the first basis of enumeration has an\nempirical origin, and that it is on such, consequently, that all\nmathematical science is built up and founded. Geometrical lines and\nfigures are properly nothing more than numbers, or the fundamental\narithmetical notions fixed in space and invested with a corporeal shape,\nand thereby become visible. It is, however, not unusual to regard the\nfirst principles of geometry--such as the point, the right line, the\nsquare, and the triangle, out of which all else is compounded--as\nindependent of experience, and existing absolutely in and by themselves.\nBut, in truth, these primary facts of geometry are, without exception,\nfirst furnished by experience. And even if, for the purposes of science,\nthey are advanced in a degree of abstract purity and of notional\ncompleteness, which they do not possess in the external world of\nsensible things, where they are always combined with more or less of\ngross admixture or of imperfection, this is only what is the case, in\nexactly the same degree, with the first principles of all other\nexperimental sciences.\n\nAstronomy is one of the highest applications of mathematical science,\nwhich in it is carried to its highest limits of development. But here,\ntoo, the latter has grown together and in common with natural science.\nThe complicated and elaborate calculations, the approximate hypotheses\nof mathematical astronomy, are intimately interwoven and mixed up with\nmanifold sidereal facts and observations. Properly, therefore, and\nrightly understood, mathematical science forms no exception to the\ngeneral principle that all knowledge is based upon experience, derived\nfrom inward, outward, or, it may be, higher perceptions. Consequently,\nit is not so much in kind as in degree that it is distinguished from\nother experimental sciences. We must not, however, forget that in very\nmany cases of the application of mathematics to real life and natural\nhistory, it is not so much a material science as rather a mere organ and\ninstrument for the advancement and further elaboration of the particular\nsciences to which it is applied. Viewed relatively to a higher physical\nscience, mathematics do but form the mere outline and articulation of\nthe whole structure of the inner skeleton of the whole body of nature;\nor, rather, it is the hidden key and rule of speech of the marvelous\nlanguage of revelation, and of that otherwise hidden existence which is\nhere brought to the light, and which we call nature--its inner grammar,\nin short, and higher symbolism.\n\nIn order to guard against this abuse of reason, to which every thinker\nmust feel himself but too liable, and which is universally acknowledged\nto be possible, it has been thought sufficient to distinguish the\nperversion from the right application of it within its natural and due\nlimits. With this view it has been maintained that the knowledge and\ncertainty which are conceded to and are within the reach of man are\nrestricted to the sensible world; while, on the other hand, in the\nsuprasensible domain, all judgment is denied to reason, and absolutely\nall knowledge to man. But this position is very far from being\njustifiable. For if, as we maintain, all knowledge is really imparted,\nor, in other words, a gift or revelation, its measure and limits can\nnot be determined by way of anticipation, nor do they in truth depend at\nall upon man. Such limits rest entirely with Him from whom all has\nproceeded, and who communicates or has communicated to His creatures\nseverally whatever it is His will to communicate or impart to them, or\nabsolutely to enjoin upon them. But this revelation and communication,\non which all religion and science ultimately rests, being once given and\nreceived, reason need not by any means be excluded from the\nsuprasensible domain. On the contrary, it may in a certain degree\nlawfully co-operate in the effectually working of it, and, to a certain\nextent and under certain limits, may even judge of it. Indeed, when the\nfirst foundation of actual reality is once given and established, and\nmoreover acknowledged as such, then the use and employment of reason is\nno less legitimate here than it is in the domain of the sensible world,\nor in a special science of experience directed and confined to\nterrestrial things. What is meant hereby, and how it is to be\nunderstood, will best appear from what I am now about to add. Though\ntheology, as little as religion itself, can draw exclusively from or\nrest entirely on reason--for this would be fatal to its very idea--still\nit is not only allowable, but even highly desirable, that theology, in\nits practical application and method, should be thoroughly rational. By\nthis means alone will it be able to preclude not only a pernicious\nconfusion of ideas and the mistakes of fanatical enthusiasm, but also\nall unprofitable disputes and the absurd bitterness of animosity. And\nthus, under the prevailing influence of reason, the spirit of love and\nconcord will outlive all the violent attacks and deep wounds of\ncontroversial ardor.\n\nIn its application, therefore, and external form, all science is, or,\nrather, to speak generally, ought to be, rational; even though it can\nnot derive its subject-matter from reason, nor in any way depend upon it\nin this respect. For whenever she attempts to produce the latter out of\nherself, she invariably gives birth to the metaphysical phantom of\nabsolute entity and of absolute knowledge, or that false illusion of\nreason which sets up an identical dualism and intrinsic unity of\nnecessary being and necessary thought, as the two inseparably connected\nforms or species of the one eternal essence which, superior to and\nhigher than both, contains in itself the primary ground of all existence\nand of all consciousness. Before this illusion, the idea of a personal\nDeity naturally falls to the ground. It is all too low and too mean for\nthe lofty conceptions of this imaginary phantom of reason. Nowhere, I\nwould observe by the way, has this illusory system, which is utterly\nfatal to the truth, been carried out with such rigor of consequence, or\nset forth with such masterly powers of exposition, as in the works of\nSpinosa. In this view of the world and things, however, we have two\nforms of a necessary thought, running, indeed, continually parallel to\neach other, but never becoming perfectly coincident. Accordingly, no\nsystem of it has ever been able to attain to a general recognition and\nreception. For, notwithstanding that perfect unintelligibility is\nessential to this view, being deeply inwoven in its whole system, and\nrunning through its most delicate threads, and reaching to its inmost\ncorners, each new master of mathematical certainty in this method of\nnegation and systematic nullity seeks the cause of the obscurity in some\nintellectual defect of his immediate predecessor in the exposition of\nit. Accordingly, he feels himself called upon to make some slightly\nchanged turn and arrangement of the thoughts, and so to come forward as\nthe inventor and founder of an entirely new fabric of truth; whereas, in\ntruth, his new form and method are fundamentally the very same delusion\nof a mere rational semblance of logical necessity that formed the\nfoundation of the old and condemned systems. However greatly the outward\ngarb of language and phraseology may have varied in the course of\ncenturies, still the error itself has remained identical and free from\nchange.\n\nAnd even if the necessary connection of these two worlds of objective\nexistence and subjective consciousness, which run parallel with each\nother, should be conceived of, somewhat after the idea of Leibnitz, as a\npre-established harmony, having, as such, its origin in a personal God,\nstill, by this apparent recognition of the sovereign hand of omnipotence\nruling and guiding the whole creation, it is only in the external form\nthat it is relieved from the objection of dualism. For, fundamentally,\nthis theory resolves itself into the mechanism of an intrinsically blind\nnecessity, by means of which the two clocks, as it were, set originally\ntogether by the Supreme Artist, run on forever and agree, while\notherwise they have no sort of connection or contact. Such a theory\nevidently furnishes no true solution of the difficulty, and leads to no\nsatisfactory result. Quite different from this is the true inner unity,\nwhich, however, is no mere sameness--the true living harmony, which,\nhowever, is no pre-established one--between the external sensible world\nof nature and the inner conceptional world of the consciousness, as\ncontemplated from the position of life, and of a philosophy which takes\nits source and foundation from life itself. According to this view,\nevery thing in the outward reality of corporeal existence is truly and\nproperly animated, ensouled, and even living. Or, at least, life is the\nsource from which both the external object of material existence and the\ninner thought, life, or consciousness, alike take their rise--in this\none common notion of life, that which exists and that which is conscious\nmeet together and are fused into one. The whole of the supposed\ncontrariety falls at once to the ground; and nothing remains but a\ncertain difference of degree, steps of transition, and fluctuation from\none state to another, similar to that between life and death, sleeping\nand waking. What we call existence is merely the visible appearance of a\nthought, it is the external expression, the corporeal shape of an inner\nlife. No doubt this inner and hidden life of nature, when contrasted\nwith the perfectly clear and free consciousness of man, or still more,\nwhen compared with a higher and superior being, appears perfectly\nunconscious. But, in truth, it ought not to be considered as being\nalways and entirely such; at least, it was not so originally. We ought\nrather to explain it as a life and consciousness which have fallen into\na state of slumber, dreaminess, or trance; and even if we must suppose\nit to be stiff and rigid with actual death, still it is not with that\ndeath which is eternal and everlasting. This, however, implies at the\nsame time that we may look upon it as being in a commencing state of\nreawakening, though, indeed, it be very far as yet from being fully\nawake. And, in truth, in man\u2019s most perfectly developed consciousness,\ndo we not trace such or a similar reciprocation between sleeping and\nwaking, dreaming and thinking, memory and oblivion--between the full,\nclear day of understanding, comprehension, and discernment, and that\nnight of error and darkness that can not be dispersed, which conflicting\nopinions, with their passions and complications, cast over the human\nmind? In truth, no absolute line of demarkation, no impassable barrier,\nsubsists. On the contrary, there are numberless points of contact and\nsteps of transition easy enough to trace from the state of a living and\nwakeful consciousness into that of sleep, or of an apparently total\nrigidity and numbness. Strictly and accurately speaking, however, there\nis, according to this view of life, no such thing as death; there is\nonly a fluctuation and variation of life through its several transitory\nforms. Still we must not forget that, relatively to the present state of\nthings, all of these forms can not be regarded as transitory. In nature,\ndeath has no existence, _i.e._, death is neither essential nor from the\nbeginning. It was brought in afterward, and incidentally, into creation.\nAnd indeed, for man especially, the immortality of the soul forms not\nonly an article of the creed of a higher hope, but it is also a visible\nfact of nature, an indisputable truth of history, that every where\nplainly and loudly announces itself. This hypothesis of a real vitality,\ninherent in all the forms of existence, which we may very properly term\nthe only hypothesis of feeling which the living truth admits of, was, in\nancient times, the general creed of nature, enforced by the universal\nfeeling of mankind, and originally held by all the nations of the earth.\nIt is only in modern times that the one-sided sagacity of an elaborate\nand artificial science has drawn this strong line of demarkation between\nthought and entity, and thereby lead to a total deadening of both. No\nsooner, therefore, had existence and consciousness been torn from their\ncommon root of life, and thereby forced asunder from each other, than,\nwith a view of filling up the great gap between them, the deceptive\nrationalism of an irrefragable chain of destiny, and a necessary\npredetermination of all things, took the place which life had formerly\nheld, but from which it had been forcibly expelled.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE IX.\n\n\nAmong the widely-diversified forms and ever new applications under which\nthe rational system of absolute knowledge and necessary connection is\nwont to exhibit itself, from time to time, some are occasionally found\nin which the first foundation is not established in that mathematical\nform and that rigor of demonstration which marks all the subsequent\nsteps of the systematic edifice. In a few systems, at least, reason, as\nthe faculty of the subjective Ego, is expressly assumed to be an\nintrinsic fact of the consciousness. And this is done, apparently, in\nthe very same way that in the philosophy which sets out from life\nitself, the theory of the consciousness, or the development of the\nnotion thereof, commences with some such fact of the inward cogitation,\nas a first principle given and established by internal experience. But\nthe question, whether in any rationalistic system this assumption be\nreally meant--in which case the whole system would be to be regarded as\npurely a science of experience--or is only apparent, being adopted for\nsome secondary object, will be quickly determined as the development of\nthe entire system proceeds. A few characteristic remarks, both simple\nand easy to be understood, will soon enable us to decide. If, as regards\nthe form, with a pretended mathematical form of demonstration, it\nimmediately introduces the old ontological confusion of unintelligible\nabstractions, we may assume it as highly probable, nay, set it down as\ncertain, that, in spite of its different form and bearing, it is\nessentially the same invariable error of identical thought and\nunconditional being that is set forth in such a system. But the token by\nwhich such scientific fatalism most surely and infallibly reveals\nitself, is the subject-matter of the system. We can have no doubt of its\npresence wherever the present state of life and consciousness, which is\nmerely accidental, and by no means its original one, is proved, or,\nrather, by a pretended demonstration, is set forth as its necessary\ncondition.\n\nOn the contrary, that incessant alternation between life and death, such\nas the latter exists at present in nature, and which, in all its\nvarious forms, coming and going like night and day, sleeping and waking,\nebb and flood, affects not the individual only but the whole human race,\nmust, according to truth, be ever regarded as a perpetually changing\nevent, assuming manifold different shapes, and being variously modified\nby the influence of human freedom. And not even for the purposes of\nscience is it allowable to see, in what is but a transitory state of the\npresent constitution of things, an eternal and immutable law; nor in its\napplication to the individual cases of actual life, to assume a\nnecessary predetermination resulting from some indissoluble chain of\ndestiny.\n\nMoreover, this illusory phantom of the unconditional--that peculiar\nerror of the reason whenever it is unduly applied and left wholly to\nitself--and the semblance of rationality which arises thereout in a\npredetermined and indissoluble enchainment of all events and phenomena,\nis not confined to the domain of science and its inner world of thought.\nIn poetry, under the notion of destiny, it holds a prominent and\nremarkable position. In the tragedy of the ancients especially, it comes\nbefore us in peculiar splendor and majesty, as the blind fate of an iron\nnecessity. Since, then, this notion, though in itself and originally\nnothing but a mere delusion, has yet, through an almost universal belief\nin its reality, acquired and exercised for centuries a fearful power\nover the minds of men, it can not, of course, be omitted or refused a\nplace in a truly artistic view and portraiture of life. This view of the\ngeneral constitution of things, thoroughly and deeply tragic as it is,\nmust ever remain intrinsically and essentially heathen. But even the\nmost perfect creations of tragic art stand a full degree below, or, at\nleast, hold a somewhat subordinate position to, the epic songs and lays\nof the oldest foretime. For this rich and copious stream of primal and\neternal recollections is the source from which every other form of poesy\nbranches off and derives its inspired waters; the living play of its\nbillows, as they sweep along with full and undivided flood, bears with\nthem all the magic treasures of fancy; and like the world-encircling\nocean, with its ever-changing undulations, it flows around all the ages\nand epochs of nature and humanity. The epos, in short, is poesy itself.\nIn it pre-eminently the very essence of poetry is present, and there,\nalso, are its truest manifestations. Every other form of poetic art\nconstitutes but a special kind, and, as compared with this pure\noriginal, is, so to speak, a mixed or applied poetry. For in the same\nway that music is an art of longing, while the arts of figure are the\nchannels in which the highest enthusiasm for visible beauty expresses\nitself; so poesy is the bright reflection of the world as it is mirrored\non the ever-flowing love-stream of eternal recollection. But enthusiasm\ninvariably attaches itself to something positive. On this account it is\nthat the plastic arts are intrinsically of two kinds essentially\ndifferent in character. While a heathen beauty predominates in the\nstatuary and buildings of ancient times, a spirit of Christian\ninspiration is no less decidedly and visibly apparent in modern painting\nand architecture. And, in some degree, this remark applies, to dramatic\npoetry; for, in its inner spirit and character, encroaching, as it were,\ninto the domain of the plastic art, it forms a peculiar species of mixed\npoetry. But in epic poetry, in the same way that all streams flow into\nand commingle in the ocean, all contrasts are softened off and\ndissolved, and, in a true and genuine epic poem, the ancient mythology\nmust not impress us as heathen--or, at least, this character must not\nthere be so decidedly apparent as it is in Grecian tragedy. Every age\nthat enjoys a high civilization, and a rare degree of intellectual\nenlightenment, even though it has not lost all relish for noble and\noriginal poetry, applies itself, first and preferably, to those mixed\nforms which allow the freest development of art, and in which it\nfrequently attains to the height of excellence. When, however, during\nthe reign of the cold poetry of the head, the tragic view of the world\nand things manifests itself no longer in the grand style of free\ninvention, but interweaves and works itself up with some artificial and\nelaborate picture of prosaic reality, the impression it leaves is doubly\npainful, conveying but the closing reflections of a destructive\nskepticism. And in the place of that genuine poetical truth which marked\nthe deep and pregnant feelings of ancient poesy, of which scarce a trace\nis here to be found, we have, on the whole, nothing but the scientific\nillusion of some empty notion in the deep but bitter feeling of\nuniversal negation.\n\nIn the whole series of the essential errors of science--of which some\none form or other is peculiar to each of the four great faculties of the\nmind, and which, though not as an inevitable and irremediable limitation\nof it, yet still, as a defective tendency and an hereditary germ of\ndeviation, is there indigenous and domesticated--among all these\nvarious forms of error, the deceptive phantom of the unconditional, the\nseeming identity of necessary being and absolute thinking and knowing,\nhas been shown to belong especially to the reason whenever, quitting the\nright road, it refuses to confine its operations within their due\nlimits. In consequence, however, of that close concatenation and mutual\ninfluence which pervades all the different forms and species of man\u2019s\nintellectual development, I deemed it any thing but superfluous to call\nyour attention to the fact, that this system of necessity, or, in other\nwords, this scientific fatalism, plays a very essential part in the\npoetical view of things, and to notice the shapes it there assumes. And\njust as this delusion of the reason, which has given rise to so many\nfalse systems (which, however, are but one, since they do but repeat, in\ndifferent forms, one and the same error of the absolute), has had a\npowerful effect even on poetry, having exercised a great and decided\ninfluence on the internal constitution of the tragic drama, so, in a\nsimilar manner, there is a peculiar species of scientific error which\nowes its origin to the faculty of imagination. Now, as might well be\nexpected, wherever this inventive and productive faculty directs itself\nexclusively to the side of prosaic reality and to palpable corporeal\nphenomena, this error, and the erroneous scientific system to which it\ngives rise, have, above all others, a dry, meager, and grossly material\ncharacter. Those lovely illusions of a fancy innocently sporting with\nemblems and figures, which most immediately occur to our mind while\nspeaking of an error peculiar to that province of the imagination,\nalthough purely scientific--I am alluding to the fabulous world and\nimaginary deities of ancient mythology--these furnish but little, if\nany, obstacle in the way of science and of the acquisition of physical\ntruth. Considered, therefore, in this light alone, they would scarcely\ndemand a place in our present disquisitions. For, for us, the whole of\nthem possesses only a certain poetical truth--or, at most, perhaps, a\ndeeper and most penetrating search may discover in them a symbolical\nsignification, which is, undoubtedly, full of deep meaning, and\ntherefore is, in so far, also true. But the case was very different with\nthe ancients themselves. And, on this account, when heathenism was the\nprevailing faith, a lively opposition was raised against them. A stern\nlaw of morals and philosophy, with indiscriminating censure, would have\nswept away the whole of the national mythology. Right and just as this\ncensure may appear to us, so far as it was directed against the\narbitrary fictions, or grossly sensual features of these fables, still\nit is impossible to concur with it totally and entirely. Occasionally,\nthe point of view is taken too narrowly and too exclusively. Moreover,\nit is undeniable, that these ancient objectors did not sufficiently\nrecognize the symbolical meaning of their own mythology. And, in fact,\nthey were far from being in a position to take a survey of the whole\ncycle of legends among different nations, and so to trace the historical\nconnection of them all; and even if, in some single points, they\nunderstood and gave due weight to this symbolical significancy,\noccasionally making use of it themselves, it was only as a mere\nintellectual amusement, or with the narrow object of illustrating some\noccasional ethical discussion of limited interest.\n\nBut a far wider and more extensive view of antiquity lies before our\neyes, and history in its comprehensive survey now takes in almost the\nwhole of the ancient world. Modern inquiry, therefore, with its vast\nerudition, its patient observation and quickness of apprehension, has\nsucceeded in establishing more completely than heretofore the general\ntruth of this symbolical basis of ancient mythology. And by this means\nit has been able to trace the inner threads of a higher truth which lay\nconcealed within those fictions, and were the source of their vitality;\nfor it was from such a beginning of truth they originally set out,\nhowever widely in their subsequent course and growth they may have\ndeviated therefrom. Indeed, if it is allowable, on the ground that the\ntrue religion must, from the very first, have been one and the same, to\ngive the name of Christianity to the simple religion of the first men\nand great saints of the primeval world, then may we well venture to\nassert that a vein of Christianity and of the knowledge of the true God\nruns through and ever and anon manifests itself on the very surface of\nheathenism and in its several mysteries. And, in truth, it would be any\nthing but an unprofitable task to trace, through this variety of\nsymbolical expressions, the sinuous and intricate course of the human\nmind in its manifold development, as it pursued every direction, and\ntook up the most opposite positions in order to view and contemplate the\ntruth. However, this Christianity of the primeval world, even where it\nkept itself free and pure from all admixture of fiction and distortion,\ncan only be regarded as a Christianity in anticipation. Or, perhaps, we\nmay look upon it as an ascending progression (though not uniformly\nadvancing, but marked with many an apparent check and recession, or even\nmany a void interval of expectation), up to the last term of\nconsummation in the visible and actual manifestation; just as, on the\nother hand, Christianity, since that epoch, may appear to the historical\ninquirer in a descending series, if not in its definite form and shape\nor intellectual development, yet certainly in the inward moral\nsentiment, and the power of a living faith.\n\nIt is now a matter pretty generally admitted, and which is, moreover,\ndaily gaining a wider concurrence, that in these fables, which, at the\nfirst glance, appear the mere sportive creations of fancy, there is even\ncontained many a beautiful hieroglyphic of nature and of natural truth.\nA brief allusion to the fact, therefore, will suffice for our general\nview, which calls upon us to notice it just so far only as is necessary\nto make our survey of the human mind and its development complete.\n\nNow, if it should be demanded of us psychologically to treat of and to\ndiscuss at length all the delusions of the fancy, we should, indeed,\nopen for ourselves a wide field of labor. It would rival that of the\nancients in their treatises on the possible fallacies of logic, and the\nillegitimate forms of its syllogisms, with the different rules for\navoiding and detecting them. But in truth, the psychological illusions\nof the fancy in actual life are no less numerous nor less diversified in\ntheir manifestation than the differences of individual characters, which\nare incalculable. And as to those logical errors, on the other hand,\nwhich relate solely to the form of argumentation, the consideration of\nthem will be most profitably attached to those branches of science which\nconcern the particular province of life in which they severally occur.\nHowever useful for the purposes of practice a detailed analysis and\ndissection of them may be, it, nevertheless, lies wholly without the\nlimits of our present speculations. By scientific errors, which, as\narising from a natural disposition and exciting cause in the fundamental\nfaculties of the human consciousness, deserve to be called innate, must\nbe understood none but such essentially false views of the whole\nconstitution of things, or such scientific systems as result from some\none-sided tendency or perverted application of the principal powers of\nman\u2019s mind. We are not, therefore, concerned at present with the poetic\nfancy and the psychological delusions of this faculty. It can only be\nwith an imagination that has exclusively given itself up to a scientific\ndirection that we can have to do in discussing the question, What false\nsystem, and what error in science generally, or in physical science\nespecially, can have proceeded from a perverted use of this faculty of\nfancy? This, it appears to me, can be no other than the well-known\nmaterialism--the atomistic view of nature, and, what is so closely\nconnected with it, that atomistic thinking whose deadening character is\nfar more dangerous and fatal to philosophy than that much-decried\n\u201csystem of nature,\u201d[74] which, for the most part, has outlived its day,\nand, in its former shape, at least, is obsolete and out of fashion. This\natomistic view of nature can not, for one moment, be regarded as or\nexplained by an error of the reason. For the reason seeks every where\nfor an absolute unity. But these imaginary atoms, out of which all is\ncomposed and compounded, are infinite in multiplicity. Among them there\nis nothing like unity. All there is ever dissolving itself, and falling\nasunder into an innumerable multitude of separate individuals. Neither\ncan it be termed an error of the understanding; for the latter does not\nmerely and universally, or every where and principally, employ itself\nwith such anatomical dissections and mutilations. It labors rather\nbefore all things to understand, to comprehend the whole, to seize the\ninner meaning, to fathom the true significance, and to gain a knowledge\nof the very essence, in its true spirit and meaning. But all this, as it\nimplies a living principle, is also applicable to such alone. Where\nthere is neither life nor spirit, there is nothing to understand. These\nsimple, minute corpuscles of nature, or these indivisible particles of\nthe universe, as the foundation and principle of the collective world of\nnature and of sense, would form an inexplicable and unintelligible\naggregate. But, in fact, the dissection and anatomy of the visible\nobjects of matter has never yet succeeded in reaching these infinitely\nminute primal particles of existence. On the contrary, the chemical\nanalysis of bodies terminates in certain living elements of a wholly\nvolatile nature, which defy and elude all such gross and material\nmanipulations. The whole hypothesis, therefore, must be held to be\nperfectly arbitrary; it is altogether an unfounded fiction. It is, no\ndoubt, highly unpoetical, and any thing but fanciful; nay, rather, it is\nfatal both to life and fancy, but a fiction it nevertheless is. And on\nthis account its origin must be ascribed to the imagination. It was,\ntherefore, in this sense, and relatively to this fact, that I formerly\nasserted that when once the imagination--that is, the scientific\nimagination--applied itself to palpable corporeal phenomena, then the\nerror that it would give rise to would be a dry and meager production of\na grossly material nature. I might almost call it an imagination of\ndeath, inasmuch as the whole of it is founded on the dreary hypothesis\nthat all is dead and lifeless, and, as such, contrasts so directly with\nthat ancient and once universally diffused creed of nature which we so\nlately spoke of as teaching that in the visible universe, and even in\nthe external and corporeal world, notwithstanding its appearance of\ndeath, every thing is animated, living, and ensouled. Further to combat,\nor totally to refute, the atomistic theory, would be inconsistent with\nour present object; that, too, is a duty which belongs rather to what is\nproperly natural philosophy. Moreover, it would be a superfluous task;\nfor a truly living philosophy of nature, based on a very different\nposition, and taking far higher views, has long since and almost every\nwhere taken the place of this hypothesis, which, as it kills the spirit,\nso it dishonors nature. One historical fact connected with the theory\nis, however, deserving our notice. Leibnitz, we know, opposed to these\natoms of Epicurus, as the constituents of all things, his own monads, as\nso many living and ensouled unities. While, however, by this expedient,\nthis great thinker, and in his way, truly exalted spirit, retained the\nsame idea of universal and atomistic decomposition, he did but reveal in\nit, as in so many other instances, that feature of his character which\nenabled him, by a sort of half rejection of, half connivance at, error,\nto put it aside with the skill of a diplomatist, rather than to get rid\nof it altogether.\n\nBut in science there is another erroneous tendency, which is still more\ndeeply rooted, and which is far more pernicious and dangerous to true\nliving philosophy than these ancient atoms and all these false,\nmaterializing systems of nature, which in some degree carry with them\ntheir own refutation, and that is an atomistic mode of thinking, which\nhas its natural source in the present defective and disorganized state\nof man\u2019s cognitive faculty. True physical anatomy is a most valuable\nscience, and has already led to most important results. In this respect\nits merits can not be rated too high, so long as it does not dream of\ndetecting with its scalpel the long-departed principle of life, but\ncontents itself with endeavoring to point out and decipher in the dead\nhusk, the still remaining traces of its general constitution, or of\ncertain morbid states of the life that once lived and moved within it.\nBut the dead and barren anatomy of thought leads not to any similarly\npregnant results. Beneath its dissecting hand, the life that is still\npresent is extinguished forever; and from the history of every science,\ninstances innumerable may be adduced to prove that before this baneful\nspirit of analysis all high and noble truth disappears.\n\nThere are, then, two principal sources of philosophical error. On the\none hand comes the illusory phantom of unconditional entity and of\nidentical thought, with all that follows therefrom in the most\ndiversified forms either of scientific fatalism, or a poetical\npantheism, or some false or perverted tragic view of the world and\nthings. On the other stands the atomistic theory, with its kindred\nerrors of a materialistic cast of thought, and the atomistic thinking\nitself, and the dead analysis of general notions, with that imagination\nof death so deeply rooted in the human mind on which they all rest. And\nthese two delusions form that curse of mental blindness which from the\nvery first has invariably rested on such usurped absolutism and\nomnipotence of reason when it sets itself up as supreme. Or they are,\nperhaps, the now hereditary diseased symptoms of mental poverty and\nnumbness which mark and distinguish the faculty of thought whenever it\nis caught and tied with the fetters of materialism.\n\nThe above are errors of a general kind, whether faults of objective\nthinking or perverted directions of thought, on which the personal\ncharacter exercises little influence. It has, however, a far greater\neffect on those forms and species of scientific error which have their\nseat in the human will and understanding; for in the latter all become\nmore or less individual, and in them character, sentiment, passion, and\nthe free resolve, exercise the greatest influence. Consequently it is\nextremely difficult in the case of those errors which flow from a\ncommon, or, at least, kindred source, and which are so intimately\ninterwoven together, to separate and determine what portion belongs to\nthe mere cognitive faculty, and what to that which wills, works, and\nacts. However, I shall venture to speak simply and plainly of the\nprejudice of egoism, as having its root principally in the will, even\nthough it often springs up quite involuntarily. Its existence extends\nwidely over the pursuits and thoughts of man, and is even apparent in\nthe spiritual domain, where the pure pursuit of the highest truth is not\naltogether free from it. It is very seldom, however, that this error\nshapes itself into a decidedly and completely idealistic view of the\nworld, and a similar perfect system of science. For such a view finds on\nall sides so much opposition, and becomes itself so involved with\ndifficulties, that it never can be carried out into a universally\nconsistent system. At any rate, such a system is very seldom of long\nduration. It is so decidedly in opposition to man\u2019s inmost feelings,\nthat when it is first propounded, its startling strangeness often gives\nrise to the doubt whether it be really to be understood literally, and\nwere ever meant seriously. It frequently happens, therefore, that the\nfirst author and founder of such a system of egoism makes in his second\nrevision of it many and essential modifications; or, rather, he may be\nmore correctly said to take quite a different position, and to give a\nwholly new turn to his ideas. Of this many an example might, if this\nwere the appropriate place, be easily adduced from the history of the\nhuman mind in general, while our own times furnish some striking and\nremarkable instances of it. A lengthy analysis and refutation of a real\nand decided system of idealism would, therefore, be scarcely necessary,\ninasmuch as, properly, it furnishes its own refutation; at any rate, it\nwould not fall within the scope of our present disquisition, whose\nprincipal object is to give a full exposition of the inner and higher\nlife. For this purpose, all that was required was to notice this\nscientific aberration as a peculiar and remarkable form in the whole\nsystem of human errors, and with this view to sketch, in a few prominent\nfeatures, its general character.\n\nWhat I have said of the system of idealism, I would not, however, by any\nmeans wish to be applied to idealistic doubt. For this, like doubt in\ngeneral, may perhaps form a salutary and highly beneficial crisis, out\nof which a well-established and enlightened system of knowledge is to\narise. Indeed, I am disposed to believe, however paradoxical it may\nseem (and perhaps it is a profound inward feeling of its paradoxical\ncharacter that carries with it my conviction), that this idealistic\ndoubt is more likely to lead to a welcome change in the prevailing views\nof science, than that doubt which assails life itself, and which, as\ndirecting itself against the freedom of the will, I would call a moral\nskepticism; for the latter is diffused very widely indeed, and without\nany scientific pretension, as the mere fatalism of ordinary reflection.\n\nWhat, however, we are principally concerned with at present, is the\nprejudice accruing to the cause of science from the fundamental errors\nwhich cling to the human mind in its present form. Now in this respect\nthe evil influence of the prejudice of egoism is perhaps the most\nextensive of all. Even when it does not manifest itself openly in its\nmost extreme and revolting form, it secretly insinuates itself into all\nmen\u2019s thoughts and actions, and pervades more or less every region of\ntruth. Indeed, we may say, or, rather, must confess, that even in the\nmost able, pure, and perfect expositions of well-established\ntruths--whatever may be the form they take, whether scientific,\nhistorical, artistic, or rhetorical, or perhaps be designed for the\npractical illustration and guidance of life--a certain subjective bone\nand coloring is more or less perceptible. Over all human compositions\nand not merely art and poetry (where, though not absolutely and\nuniversally, yet still to a certain degree it is allowable), a peculiar\nlight is thrown from the personal Me of the author, as reflected through\nthe immediate sphere of his associates and the circle of ideas in which\nhis mind has been accustomed to revolve. Against such an influence,\nwhether proceeding from ourselves or others, we can not be too\ndiligently on our guard. In all our judgments and conclusions we ought\ncarefully to put it aside. And this is the only true and legitimate\nabstraction which holds good both for science and for life. But thus to\nabstract our own Me and subjective peculiarities is a duty which is far\nfrom being commonly observed, and is, in truth, extremely difficult,\neven with the greatest honesty of purpose, perfectly to accomplish.\n\nAs we have so often spoken of an unintelligible medley of barren\nabstractions as so many empty forms of thought, this truer notion of\nabstraction may well be allowed a brief passing consideration. It seems\nnot improbable that in an older form of science, and a more religious\nway of thinking, this notion did possess this higher and more correct\nsignification. At least, it is evident that if we would meditate upon\nGod and divine things, and give up ourselves fully and entirely to these\ncontemplations, we must first forget the whole outer world and withdraw\nour thoughts from it, and at the same time rise above ourselves and go\nout of ourselves and our own narrow and finite _Me_. Almost all the\nnotions of science possessed originally a grand and exalted import. It\nwas only in course of time that, deteriorated by common usage, they sunk\ninto empty formulas of error. In life, indeed, the subjective prejudices\nof man, under the influence of a will carried away and narrowed by them,\nhas had so wide a range of action as to be co-extensive with the whole\nfield of human action. The willfulness of children forms the principle\nobstacle that education has to deal with; and the inflexible obstinacy\nand passionateness of party spirit is the ruling power in public life,\nthe cause of most of its catastrophes, and the source of its greatest\nperils. In short, were we to attempt to extend our survey to all the\nprejudices which spring out of narrow subjective views, and the great\nand extensive authority which long-cherished opinions exercise both over\nthe inner man and the outer world, the chapter devoted to them in a\nsystem or manual of a practical knowledge of humanity would be as long\nas that which should enumerate the false syllogisms and all the\nviolations that were possible, either in thought or practice, of the\nlogical form of right reasoning, or even as that other which should\ncomprise all the psychological delusions of the fancy. We must,\ntherefore, confine ourselves to a brief, but still complete sketch. And\nto insure such completeness there is one remark to be made, which is far\nfrom unimportant, or at least not superfluous. And that refers first of\nall to the relation which subsists between the aberrations of the\nunderstanding and those of the will, and in the next place to that\nbetween the fancy and the reason, and to the contrariety usually arising\nfrom an undue predominance of either of these two faculties.\nUnderstanding and will stand in a very close connection together, their\nreciprocal influence being very considerable. In many an error, or at\nleast in many a perverse and erroneous direction of thought and opinion,\nwe are scarcely able to decide whether the will and sentiments, or the\nunderstanding and special modes of thinking, have the greater part. How\ndifficult, for instance, is it to determine this point in the case of\nthe predominant spirit of contradiction, whether it reveal itself as a\nreaction, having indeed an external exciting cause, but still thoroughly\npassionate, or appear in the shape of a mere delight in opposition, such\nas is found in many, and often highly distinguished individuals. For\nboth these motives have great influence, not only in life but also in\nthe domain of science, developing themselves therein as a fruitful\nsource of error.\n\nAs to doubt: it is even that state, or that tendency of the mind\n[_geist_] peculiar to the understanding, which though in itself not\nabsolutely culpable or faulty, is certainly erroneous, and one which in\nits extreme manifestation becomes a negative error of the very worst and\nmost pernicious kind in science. I have already several times mentioned,\nin passing, and by way of anticipation, that doubt appears to form one\nof the most characteristic and peculiar of man\u2019s fundamental properties.\nAs sleep forms for man, as compared with the pure and ever-wakeful\nspirits, an essential and peculiar state of his organic life in the\nbody, and as that eternal hope which is innate in the human soul is\nacknowledged to be its higher stamp and Godlike signature, just so and\nin a similar way must doubt be regarded as the inborn character of the\nhuman mind, or at least as one of its most indelible features. And\nindeed this struggle of doubt and hope (which even after the full\nattainment of internal certainty and peace, still survives in a degree,\nshowing itself when we come to the special points of practical\napplication, and in truth will never wholly cease in this lower world),\nthis conflict between hope and doubt holds no less important nor less\nextensive a place in the inner spiritual world than the reciprocation of\nsleeping and waking does in the external and organic, maintaining the\ndue equilibrium of the bodily powers and their healthy state. Now, doubt\ntakes its rise pre-eminently and originally in the understanding. The\nlatter is its appropriate place in the whole human consciousness, though\nfrom thence it quickly spreads over its whole sphere and extends to its\nutmost limits. The delusion so peculiar to the reason, of an absolute\nunity or identity and necessity, leads rather to a false and perfectly\nimaginary science, which for the most part aims at possessing or dreams\nof having attained to a mathematical certainty. And though the intrinsic\ncontradiction and inconsistency which reigns in this absolute view of\nthe world and things, notwithstanding the denial of all contrariety with\nwhich it sets out, and which, apparently at least, it does get rid of at\nthe beginning, is well calculated to provoke and occasion doubt; still\nit is not the seat where doubt is originally engendered and first takes\nits rise. The act of understanding, on the contrary, supposes an\nantecedent state of its absence. The object or thought which is now\nunderstood for the first time, must have already existed as a given\nmatter, standing before us as a problem for our previous ignorance up to\nthe time that we succeeded in solving it. In truth, the act of\nunderstanding is nothing more than the passing from ignorance into\nintelligence. And this passage is not always effected at one step, but\nfor the most part by slow degrees, and often very slowly and gradually\nindeed. Now, doubt, as the intermediate state between the original\nignorance and the inward yearning after certainty, forms the crisis of\nthis passage or transition. Primarily, therefore, and as stripped of all\nperverted applications and unlimited extension, it is not in its essence\nan impediment to knowledge, but rather an indispensable aid and useful\ninstrument for the attainment and perfection of sciences. Wonder,\naccording to the sense in which it is employed in some passages of the\nPlatonic philosophy, as the inner amazement of the spirit, or the\nastonished rapture of the soul at the happy discovery--the first opening\nout of the truth--wonder, we might say, is the mother of knowledge,\nwhich bears in its womb and gives to the light the first germ of it; but\ndoubt is the father, by whom the internal basis, and also the external\nform of science, is and can alone be perfected. And inasmuch as science,\nalthough relatively and for any precise and given form it may appear\ncomplete, yet in itself, and generally, and with regard both to its\neternal diffusion and intrinsic advance, can never reach to full\nperfection in this lower world; therefore doubt can never properly cease\naltogether. But still, if doubt is to remain a wholesome co-operative\npower of knowledge, one requisition and demand, and one only, must be\nmade upon it. It must never question the hope and the end of truth\nitself, and must not give up that inward search after knowledge, of\nwhich it is really designed to serve as the organ. In the form of a\nuniversal skepticism, however, it falls into a tone of unconditional\ndecision, which involves an assumption of complete certainty, and,\nconsequently, of a perfect, though negative knowledge, totally\ninconsistent with its true character. It thereby undermines its own\nfoundation.\n\nAbsolute doubt, therefore, alone constitutes scientific error. As such\nit must invariably be looked upon whenever, rising to the height of\ndespair, it pronounces science to be unattainable. It is such unlimited\nextension that constitutes a fault or error. But even in this respect it\nis extremely difficult to determine for individuals, nations, and eras,\nthis utmost limit, beyond which doubt becomes culpable. It is a shifting\nline of demarkation, according as the perplexity of infinite doubt,\nremaining nothing more than a passive state of internal conflict, is not\nraised into an abiding principle and unchangeable maxim of life.\nBesides, it is extremely difficult to determine, as a general law, how\nfar doubt can and may go before hope is entirely lost. Nay, it is not\neasy to say whether, even in this pernicious extravagance, it may not\ntransform itself into good, and bring about a salutary crisis of\ntransition, and, being set free from its own exaggerations, discover the\ntrue road to the goal of truth, and to a thorough understanding of it.\nIt is only when absolute doubt, in its full energy, is set up purposely\nand forever as the final conclusion of all thought and reflection, as\nthe supreme science itself, being developed with cool, calm\nself-possession, and applied to all things without exception, that this\nspirit of absolute negation becomes totally erroneous. In this case,\nindeed, it is irredeemably bad; as the hostile antagonist of all that is\ngood and precious, it overturns truth itself together with science.\n\nAnd who, then, is the author of all evil in man himself, and in all his\nthoughts, knowledge, and volitions, as well as in all the rest of\ncreation? It is the dark spirit of negation who so well knows how to\nveil himself in the false light of apparently brightest clearness. And\nsince we have reached up to the height, or, rather, down to the depths,\nof this primary source of all error, it may perhaps be necessary to add\na further remark or two on this prime author of untruth, with a view of\nguarding against the misconceptions that otherwise might arise only too\nnaturally. In Holy Writ he is called the Spirit and the Prince of this\nworld. In ancient times, this description has been greatly\nmisunderstood. It was taken to mean that he is properly the demiurge and\nsubordinate creator of this sensible world, in which there are so many\ntraces of fearful dissension, profound corruption, and disorder. The\nintrinsic state of nature in its present condition appeared to many\nthinkers so inexpressibly miserable and so full of deadly evil, that\nthey could not bring themselves to ascribe its origination to the true\nGod. But even though nature be in fact ever so heavily laden with woes\nand intrinsically miserable--(and indeed it is spoken of in the Book of\nTruth as the creature \u201cgroaning and travailing in pain\u201d)--though the\nworld were even far more fearfully rent with disorder and corruption,\nand chained and fettered to a shape stranger to goodness and truth than\nseems at the first glance to be the case, still there would be no ground\nfor adopting the oriental view of two principles. And indeed the wonder\nis how it could ever have found adherents; since this world, already\nsufficiently distracted, is thereby but involved in still deeper\ndissension, and actually rent into two distinct parts, so that it\nbecomes no longer possible to think or conceive of such a thing as\ntruth, or to hope for any veritable and satisfactory scheme of\nknowledge. This strange religious error, into which the primal world of\nAsia, with its deep and profound emotions, fell, is so remote and\nforeign to the more moderate, not to say colder, sentiments of the West,\nthat it is extremely difficult to set it forth and understand it in all\nits actual awfulness. It would, therefore, be as idle as it would be\ninappropriate for me to enter further into this false, but ancient\nsystem of dualism. Still there is one remark which essentially belongs\nto our present subject, and is also closely connected with what has gone\nbefore. The first author of untruth, we have seen, can not for a moment\nbe regarded as the true demiurge and creator of the world, as the\noriental view would represent him. Nevertheless, inasmuch as evil,\nuniversally and individually, in great and in little, is a deceptive\nimage and imitation of good, this spirit of everlasting negation has\nunquestionably a world of his own, which is his production, and in a\ncertain degree called forth and created by him. And that is the null and\nseeing world of void naught, which, however, through a fatal delusion\nand belief in its reality, and through its opposition to the good as\nwell as the true, has become a _real_ naught, and must be considered as\nsuch. The actual world of the beneficent Creator was created out of\nnothing, since, besides Himself, all is nothing but a mirror of His\nperfection, a mere reflection of His infinite power and glory. But\nthough it was made out of nothing, it was yet created for something, or,\nrather, for very much, even for an ever-advancing approximation to, and\na finally complete identity with, its Maker. This good and noble\nsomething, as the supreme end of the true creation, is, however, opposed\nby the naught of the dark world of shadows, which has now become real,\nand, consequently, evil. Thus created, however, or at least shaped and\nproduced out of something, it exists for nothing, even for that naught\nwhich constitutes the proper world, the field of action and vital\natmosphere of the evil principle. In the case of an individual whose\ndelusions have been carried to the height of passion, and whose soul is\ntorn and distracted by a perfect despair of all truth, it is sometimes\nsaid that he has hell itself in his heart; such a mode of speaking (as\nis usually the case with such images and metaphors, which we use without\nassociating with them any very clear or definite ideas), is perfectly\nand in sober earnestness quite true. In a metaphysical sense even, it is\nperfectly precise and correct.\n\nIf this absolute doubt, which is so often set up for the supreme\nprinciple of all thought and knowledge, were always to show and exhibit\nitself such as it really is, and in its inmost nature, and if what it\nultimately leads to, and from what source it originally springs, were\nfully known, then would this skeptical view of things, with its wild\nexaggerations, which go beyond all the analogy of human nature, prove\nfar less baneful than it does at present. In general it would less\neasily gain assent and make a far weaker impression. But inasmuch as\nthis fatally pernicious and most absurd paradox does not stand out here\nso sharply and clearly as it does in the genuine idealistic theory, but\nis mostly veiled and hidden beneath the manifold beauties of an\nexquisite skill of exposition, which very often drops the rigor of\nscientific form, it consequently numbers far more adherents than could\nhave been believed to be possible. Indeed, they are almost as numerous\nas the admirers of a poetical pantheism, with which it contrives\noccasionally to form a half compact and seemingly identifies itself. And\nthis fact alone furnishes a sufficient reason why we should not pass it\nover altogether unnoticed in these Lectures. However, it must be borne\nin mind that all our objections and exceptions are directed exclusively\nagainst an absolute skepticism, as exercising by its perverted\napplication and undue extension, a fatally destructive influence on\nscience and on life.\n\nThe true doubt, which keeps within its proper limits and on the road to\nits appointed goal of a constantly advancing but never perfect\nknowledge, deserves to be regarded as an ever active and co-operative\npower for the development of truth and science. It must therefore be\nconfessed that the appointed guardians of the publicly acknowledged\ntruth (which, as such, ought to possess universal authority, both in the\nstate and the spiritual domain) do not always exhibit the greatest\nwisdom and discretion. Too often do they violently suppress every\nmovement of doubt without distinction, and allow no opening to it in any\nshape. For by this course they do but exaggerate the spiritual and\nintellectual evil that already exists. At least this purely negative\nmethod can never totally eradicate it.\n\nWe have now, then, completely depicted, in their leading features at\nleast, the principal errors to which science is exposed. And if we have\nenabled you to regard them as errors both in their origin and their\nsubsequent character, we must at the same time, by means of the\ncontrast, have thrown additional light and distinctness on the idea of\nscience, not only as regards its different elements and constituents,\nbut also the whole periphery and center of internal certainty. If, now,\nit should be required of us to give a common characteristic of all the\nfundamental errors which, potentially at least, exist in the human\nconsciousness--if it be wished that we should comprise under one general\ndesignation the false phantom of absolute unity and necessity in\nscience--the imaginary fiction of death brought into nature by a dead\nand atomistic mode of thinking--the prejudices of the Ego or Me, and the\nspirit of eternal negation, which is utterly fatal to truth--then, for\nthis purpose, nothing else would remain but an empty formula or\nunsubstantial notion, viz., the dead absolute. At least this would be\nthoroughly appropriate to convey that intrinsic indifference of all\nforms of scientific untruth.\n\nOpposed thereto, and forming the center of a true and valid knowledge,\nis that source of eternal love within the feeling to which we have\nalready so often alluded, designating it by either similar or somewhat\ndifferent expressions. To defend and securely to settle this living\ncenter of all higher truth and true science against the attacks of\nabsolute skepticism, was even the task which we proposed to ourselves\nfrom the outset. It was however far from our intention, while\ndischarging this duty, wholly to put doubt itself under a ban. On the\ncontrary, we look upon the latter as an essential means of improvement,\nand as an almost indispensable organ of development in a living\nprogression of knowledge.\n\nNow in these definite limits, both for the exclusion of absolute\nskepticism and for the recognition and correct application at all times\nof a genuine and salutary doubt, we have, we think, found a satisfactory\nanswer to the great question of truth and of the possibility of man\u2019s\nattaining to a knowledge of it. And if so, we have at the same time\nshown completely that doubt forms a decisive crisis in the human mind,\nand thereby happily solved the problem which at an earlier period we\npropounded with regard to it. And moreover, as was then declared to be\nnecessary, the instinctive feeling of truth within the very center of\nlove has been raised to and established in the dignity of an intelligent\nfeeling or a solid judgment of inward certainty, and of an immediate\nperception thereof. And this immediate perception of inward certainty\nmust serve as the transition from the first developed notion of the\nconsciousness to our now more enlightened idea of science, and also form\nthe connecting link between them. Before, however, we can close our\npresent development with this notion of judgment or intelligent feeling\nof inward certainty, one question remains to be answered, or perhaps one\nremark to be added. And this relates to truth itself, as the inmost\ncenter of such an immediate perception, while the question that occurs\nis, what is it, _per se_, to know, and what is it that in the act of\nknowing really takes place in the human mind?\n\nNow it has been long admitted that true knowing consists in this: that a\nman discerns things, not merely as they outwardly appear, but as they\nare really and truly in themselves. But this true intrinsic essence of\nthings is seized or understood by him only who perceives them such as\nthey proceeded from the Deity, have their being in Him, and such as they\nstand before His omniscient eye and are seen by him. What, then, is true\nknowledge, if such be possible for man? Now, supposing the existence of\na living God--and how, without this universal primary and imperishable\nhypothesis, could there be either talk or question about truth or\nknowledge in general?--this supposition then involves the idea of an\nomnipresent Deity, in whom all existing things \u201clive and move, and have\ntheir being,\u201d even though He does not visibly appear, and is hidden to\nthe outward eye of sense. Truly to know, therefore, would be, if we may\nso express it, to feel and draw out the latent presence of God in\nobjects, and thereby to seize and perceive their true intrinsic essence.\nNow, if it is necessary to distinguish the several grades of development\nof this spiritual or intellectual feeling which draws out the inner\ntruth of things, its first step must be described as a perception,\nwhich, however, is both from without and remote. The second would be a\n_sensation_, _i.e._, the full certain _finding_ the truth in one\u2019s\nself.[75] As to the last step of consummation, that would amount to an\nintellectual intuition, even though, by reason of human finiteness, it\nmust ever remain indirect. Still it would not, on that account, be less\nprofoundly searching and penetrating, while, in it, that of which we\nhave now first become certain comes forth externally perfect, and admits\nof being imparted to others. And unquestionably for that philosophy\nwhich pretends to open and unveil a true and right understanding of the\ninner and higher life, after the first grade, which took for its basis\nthe full and complete notion of the consciousness; and after the second,\nin which the idea of science is unfolded, this intuition of truth forms\nthe third degree, and also the final close and completion, of the whole.\nIn order, however, to understand how such an intuitive knowledge is\npossible, we must bear in mind that it is not we who raise ourselves to\nthe divine idea; but that, on the contrary, it is it that takes hold of\nour minds, being imparted to and working within us.\n\nThe deadly attacks of skepticism may, no doubt, be directed successfully\nenough against an unconditional science of reason, where its action or\nreaction, which brings out the intrinsic contradiction of such a system,\nis both salutary and desirable, in order to destroy the false semblance\nof a spurious necessity. All its blows, however, glance off from a real\nand solid experience, and soon cease entirely. And just so, also, the\nlimit of an assumed or credited impossibility, which is too hastily and\ntoo nearly set up, is quickly overstepped by facts themselves. Very\noften, before now, has it happened, in experimental science, that what\nman once not merely questioned, but actually declared to be incredible,\nnay, even impossible, has unexpectedly proved, afterward, to be an\nactual fact, and gained general credence as undeniably certain. How much\nis there not in nature that deserves to be called marvelous, and borders\nclose upon the miraculous, and which makes, at least, some such\nimpression on our minds and understandings as they have been hitherto\ndeveloped? To one, indeed, who takes his stand on revelation, it becomes\nextremely difficult to draw a strict line of demarkation, and to raise\nan impassable boundary between that which is called natural and that\nwhich is termed supernatural, in the usual sense of these words. And, if\nall higher truth is imparted, and can not but be such, who will presume\nto set a limit or a measure here? Who will set bounds to the Author of\nrevelation which He shall not pass? If, then, even in philosophy, all\nscience and truth is really a revelation, and if it were recognized and\nunderstood in this light, then should we be able to put this matter to\nthe test of experience, provided, only, that we be careful to draw from\nthe right source, and to treat philosophy really and truly as a science\nof an experience higher than any internal or external one.\n\nBut man must not expect, even according to this point of view, to\npenetrate at once into the fullness of the divine mysteries, and\narbitrarily to play with and mold them at his pleasure. The development\nof truth in the human mind always proceeds slowly, and step by step.\nEven when the whole beginning and sure foundation is already found, or,\nrather, given, the inner evolution and external application of true\nscience unfolds itself with extreme tardiness. At each point of progress\nmuch still remains to be overcome, much to be improved, and even to be\nthought upon once more, and reconsidered over and over again. Often,\ntoo, at the very last moment, an unexpected obstacle presents itself, or\nsome new procrastination of a conscientious doubt or care. To show that\nall this is to be expected, even according to the theory which makes\nscience to be a divine communication, and that all higher knowledge is\nand must be such, I have a remark or two more to add. And here I shall\nnot follow the same course that I took in my exposition of the possible\nforms of error, tracing the origin of each to some predisposing cause in\nthe several faculties of the mind. It will suffice to take for granted\nthe keenest susceptibility in the truth-loving soul, the greatest\nactivity and energy of the spirit in its search after and cognition of\nscience, and a perfectly pure will co-existing and having a common\nfoundation in a purified, newly-invigorated, and enhanced state of the\nhuman consciousness.\n\nVery often, even in the noblest minds, a lively, open sense and profound\nsensibility of the soul for the higher truth is found associated with a\nsecret dread and profound apprehension before it. At this, however, we\nneed not to feel surprised. It is not so much a lasting illusion, as\nrather a slight partition-wall between the first new impression and our\nhabitual self; for each fresh influence of higher truth draws us\nnoticeably away from our usual circle of ideas, and often painfully\neradicates some favorite notion and cherished opinion. This fact, then,\nwill serve to explain this slight feeling of resistance which precedes a\ncomplete adhesion and identification, and as such requires to be treated\nwith the utmost delicacy and tenderness. Or let us take the case of a\ngreat mind in possession of a higher and comprehensive knowledge, and\nmost assuredly he could never have attained to it without many a bold\nventure in living thought; for without boldness nothing good or\nbeautiful, much less great, is ever reached or attainable. And this is\ntrue also of language, for the bold thought demands a correspondent\nboldness of expression. Where, then, is such a one to look for the\nlimits and the standard of a legitimate venture--the guide and safeguard\nagainst temerity--when his boldness of speculation springs really from a\nprofound love of truth, and a pure enthusiasm for science? The risk of\nerror and mistake, and even a sense of solemn accountability, meets him\non all sides, and fills him with anxiety and reserve. The hypothesis has\nbeen deemed allowable, at least it has been advanced, invented by way of\nsimile, of a man being intrusted with and holding in his hand the full\ntruth--or, rather, let me say all truth in heaven and in earth--since,\nif we suppose science to be imparted and a gift, there can be no limits\nset or predetermined to its extent. Now, it has been asserted that such\na person would be seized with hesitation, fear, and doubt, whether he\nought to open his hand all at once, or only half open it at first, or\nwhether he ought not even to keep it a long time closed. But to turn\naway from this fiction, which, in reality, transcends altogether the\nmeasure of human capacity, then, as regards the necessary gradation and\nsalutary slowness that marks, and even the hesitation that must take\nplace in all human learning and development, and even in philosophy, no\nless than in the internal region of the consciousness, what rule or\nguide has man? For such a standard nothing, apparently, remains to us\nbut to assume the notion of a logical conscience as a quality in the\ntrue thinker necessary to preserve him from every false step, either\nwithin or without. That there is such a logical conscience, wholly\nindependent of all moral relation, is perfectly obvious. By it we must\nunderstand not only a careful measuring and weighing of all thoughts,\nbut even of every word and expression; and we have chosen this term as\nwell fitted to enforce the great importance of this sensibility in\nmatters of scientific truth, and to indicate the place in the\nconsciousness where it properly has its seat, and the principle from\nwhich it must take its rise. The genius-gifted boldness of a great\nthinker would be little likely to convey confidence, if it were not at\nthe same time associated and harmoniously united with the essential\nelement of a cautious and gradual procedure. In its essential features,\nthough in a somewhat different form and relation, the Greeks, in their\nphilosophy, were acquainted with and possessed this notion of a logical\nconscience; for, in some measure, it is even implied in this very word\nphilosophy, which was intended to indicate, and intrinsically means, an\nunselfish and pure pursuit of truth. But the fact becomes still more\nevident by the contrast with, or, rather, by the notion of, the sophist,\nas opposed to that of the philosopher. By the former they understood a\ncommon and vulgar traffic with wisdom, or even an interested and wholly\nunconscientious abuse of scientific truth to personal interest, or the\ngratification of selfish humors and passions, and even of vain glory.\nAll this the Greeks regarded as absolutely worthless and despicable. And\nmuch is it to be wished that we, in our days, remembered a little\nbetter, and strove to imitate this stern morality of the old Athenians\nin their notion of the high dignity of truth, and of the respect due to\nthis sanctuary of science, which, at the distance that they were allowed\nto approach to it, they reverently worshiped and honored.\n\n\n\n\nLECTURE X.\n\n\nThe apprehending of a real object in thought, unquestionably involves an\nact of knowing, so long, at least, as it is no empty thought, but has a\nreal subject-matter. It is a piece of knowledge, even though it may be\nas yet very incomplete, both as regards its external connection with\nothers and its inward development, and though it be highly defective\nalso in form and expression. It is, moreover, possible that\nsubsequently, by an incorrect analysis or other erroneous treatment of\nit, its usefulness may be destroyed, itself dissolved into naught, and\nstripped of true vital significance. And thus by our own fault, the\nthought, which originally possessed a true and real object, is reduced\ninto a mere wordy formula, conveying actually no meaning at all. In\norder, then, to indicate the real distinction between the two, and at\nthe same time to guard against all possible misconception, we would\ndefine as follows the intrinsic essence of knowledge: to know is the\nliving thought of something real. The general indefinite term, thought,\nwhich we have here employed, is the right one and the most appropriate\nin this place, for it comprises every kind of perceiving and\nunderstanding, of judging and comprehending, of cognition and\nrecognition, and serves to indicate the several elements and relations\nor differing degrees of knowledge, and of that intuitive inward\ncertainty which is combined and associated with it. It would be far less\naccurate to say that knowledge is the correct thought, instead of the\n_living_ thought of a real object; although, indeed, the former is\ninvolved in and inseparable from the latter. When a thought which in any\ndegree apprehends or comprehends a real object, is said to be incorrect,\nthis is as much as to say that it comprises much that is not found in\nthe object itself, and consequently does not coincide with it. But that\nwhich is not contained in the object itself is, so far as it is\nconcerned, unreal and does not belong to it. And all such is necessarily\nexcluded from the notion of the thought of a real object, since\notherwise it would be a thinking of what is unreal. The expression, too,\nof an incorrect thinking of what is real, would, no doubt, point to and\nindicate the same fact in every case where such thinking is a thoroughly\ndefective and incomplete knowing, if, for instance, much that is\nessential and is really found in the particular object were not\ncomprised in the thought or were wanting in it. This expression,\nconsequently, is perfectly applicable, and indeed appropriate, when we\nwish to speak of a complete and perfect knowledge, and to distinguish it\nfrom one that is faulty and defective. But such knowledge slowly and\ngradually develops itself; the notion of knowing in general must precede\nthat of perfect knowledge. The living thought of a real object, however\nimperfect and incomplete it may be, contains, nevertheless, the first\nbeginning and germ of a knowing. It is only out of a dead thought that a\ntrue knowing can never arise; properly, indeed, when it is but a mere\nformula, it is not even a true thinking. Knowledge, therefore, in\ngeneral is the living thought of some real object; but perfect and\ncomplete knowledge is the full and correct development of this thought,\nby means of which it becomes perfectly defined, both outwardly and\ninwardly. But a real object is invariably the first foundation and\nbeginning, from which all knowledge springs up, and to which all thought\nmust be immediately directed and also closely attach itself.\n\nIn an older form of philosophy, the supreme, or--as it was called, not\nvery appropriately, if all its various relations be considered--necessary\nBeing, was usually declared to be that of which the reality was at once\ngiven in its possibility, so that the proof of its actual existence\nwould immediately follow from the mere idea of its perfection. This,\nhowever, is but one of the many forms of expression for the absolute\nunity of being and knowledge. We have already expressed ourselves\nsufficiently at large on the general topic, and we have only adduced\nthis particular instance to serve as a passage to our exposition of\nanother view, in the hope of throwing out the latter more distinctly\nand definitely by means of the contrast.\n\nIn that method of philosophy which takes its rise in no dead and\nabstract thinking, but rather in life itself and the living thought,\nreality, together with the immediate feeling of whatever is thus real\nand actual in the inward perception, as well as in external experience,\nand also in the revelation from above, forms the first beginning out of\nwhich all is developed. This is the fixed, stable point to which all\nthat follows attaches itself. The necessary, which comes first after\nthis reality, is simply the inner essential and complete connection of\nthis first data. But the possible, which is not any mere arbitrary\nconception and chimerical invention, but something truly, and we might\nalmost say _really_ possible, forms the conclusion, as that which by a\nnatural development results from the two former--the initiatory fact and\nits intrinsic essentiality. This simple series or natural progression in\nliving thought forms and constitutes in the next place the different\ndegrees of understanding, and even the internal grades of certainty and\nclearness in a continuously advancing development. The foundation of the\nwhole is formed by the feeling of a reality, the perception of a fact,\nexisting somewhere within the limits of that triple experience which\ntakes in an inner and an outer and also a higher world. Now, the first\nstep in this progressive intellectual development is formed by the\nnotion or general term, which, as I formerly explained it, is a thought\nor conception that is mathematically determined and precisely limited,\nboth inwardly and outwardly, according to the three dimensions of\nnumber, measure, and weight. In it all the several elements which, taken\ntogether, form the original thought or conception of the real object,\nare first of all duly separated and arranged, and then again united as\norganic members into a regular whole, or, after the manner of geometry,\nbrought into a _construction_. But this act of comprising into a general\nnotion [_Begreifen_] is by no means a perfect explanation of the matter.\nIt is not, as it were, an analysis carried out fully and completely, so\nthat nothing still remains to be explained. For even according to the\nordinary usage of speech, we may very easily form and have a notion of\nany system, whether purely ideal or experimental, philosophical or\nunphilosophical, or belonging to any other domain of science, and even\nof a work of art, at the same time that we are forced to admit that\nthere is much in it that we do not understand, or which appears to us\ninexplicable and unintelligible. This comprehending, which externally\nconsists in the correct marking out of the whole circumference of an\nobject, and inwardly, in the clear division and arrangement of its\nseveral organic members, is not the complete act of understanding; it is\nonly its first step. As such, however, it may afterward attain to an\ninternal confirmation, and become thereby the second degree in the\napproach to completeness of understanding. And this it does as soon as a\ncognition of the error which may either possibly rise up in, about, or\ntogether with itself, or is actually combined with it, is attained, and\nwhen, consequently, a clearer recognition of the opposing truth advances\nthe mere feeling of a something real into an intelligent feeling or\njudgment of inward certainty. And this is the very essence of knowing.\nThe third step in the further development or enhancement of the first\nliving thought, or of its progressive approach toward completeness of\nunderstanding, is formed by the idea. The idea is distinct from the\nnotion, even in its form. Unlike the latter, it does not set forth all\nthat, under the given conditions, necessarily and essentially belongs\ntogether. In other words, it does not give the full and complete extent\nof the reality which was taken up by the original feeling and\nperception. It rather propounds the thought of a possibility, which, in\na certain and definite view or direction, appears attainable. For\ninstance, in our present development of the inner and higher life, the\nnotion of the consciousness was followed by the idea of science, and the\nquestion how far it is possible and within the reach of man. Even in\nordinary language this distinction is observed. How often do we hear it\nobserved, that this or that scheme is a mere idea, signifying that it is\na thought whose object is a something possible, but of which the reality\nor realization appears at the time highly problematical. On the other\nhand, by the term notion, strictly taken, it is usual to understand a\nthought which has for its subject-matter something relatively true at\nleast, since, otherwise there would be nothing that we could have a\nnotion of or comprehend. And simply on this account it is not possible\nthat the idea should contain a perfectly definite and organically\narticulated construction of its object. For, in fact, an idea is merely\nthe indication, the standard, and the rule of the possible. It is simply\ndesigned to show what is to be, and in what way it can be, attained, and\nperhaps, also, in what law of progression its attainment will be\nactually realized.\n\nHowever, a truly scientific and scientifically useful idea is before all\nthings closely and essentially dependent on the foundation of an inward\ncertainty, or a feeling and conviction that the object which forms its\nproblem, or the problem which is its object, is really and actually\nattainable. Consequently, it intimately depends on the intelligent\nfeeling or judgment as to this inward certainty and truth in\nknowledge.\n\n\n\n\nANALYTICAL INDEX.\n\n\nA\n\nAbsolute knowledge, false character of, 60.\n  power considered, 175.\n\nAbstraction, not the true method of philosophy, 354.\n\n\u00c6ther of the nerves, 76.\n\nAge, the early Christian, 148.\n  the middle, 149, 246.\n  that of the restoration of letters, 150.\n  anti-Christian spirit of the present, 151.\n  a struggle for truth the conflict of the present, 158.\n  the spirit of the present a spirit of untruth, 159.\n  different ages of the history of the world, 163.\n  characteristics of the present, 164, 457.\n  the middle contained all the elements of the Christian state, 182.\n  rationalism to be feared in the present, 227.\n  spirit of the present, 409.\n\nAlphabet, the psychological, 452.\n\nAngels, the neutral, 136.\n\nAnimals, soul of, 121.\n\nAntediluvian--see _World_.\n\nArchitecture, its alliance to sculpture, 260.\n\nAriana, the, 246.\n\nAristotle, his system, 243.\n\nAristotelian schoolmen, 247.\n\nArt, symbolical nature and constitution of life with reference to it, 256.\n\nArt, all symbolical, 257.\n  religious origin of, 265\n  a feeling of the infinite, 415.\n  a universal language, 421.\n  evil influences of, 455.\n  hope the soul of, 456.\n  present state of, 458.\n  spurious, 461.\n\nAstronomy, modern, 84.\n  seven the traditionary number of the planets, 85.\n  Pythagorean system of, 85.\n\nAtheism, produced by French philosophy, 18.\n  tendency of modern science to, 155.\n\nAtlantis, legend of, 83.\n\nAuthority, God the source of, 168.\n\nAvarice, its character, 34.\n  apart from industry, 35.\n\n\nB\n\nBeauty, 506.\n  source of in fiction, 510.\n\nBible--see _Scriptures_.\n\nBody, the spiritual, 74.\n\nByron, his Cain, 21, 410.\n\n\nC\n\nCause, final, doctrine of, 125.\n\nCreation intelligible, 127.\n\nChemical analysis, modern, results of, 88.\n\nChina, its state of separation, 181.\n\nChristianity, revelation of, 146.\n  first eight Christian centuries, 148.\n  the middle ages, 149.\n  anti-Christian spirit of this era, 151.\n  universal peace, 184.\n  its dispensation, struggle between light and darkness in, 207.\n  its science and philosophy, 245.\n  the Gnostics and Arians, 246.\n  the middle ages--the Aristotelian schoolmen, 247.\n  disputations of the schoolmen, 248.\n  of the eighteenth century, 249.\n  without an altar, 268.\n  the Christian state an hereditary monarchy, 282.\n  the true guardian of liberty, 287.\n  its jurisprudence, 296.\n  spread among the Mohammedans, 297.\n  its priests not hereditary, 308.\n  its justice the basis of European peace, 311.\n  confederation of its states, 312.\n\nChurch, its collision with the state, 299, 304.\n  separation of, 306.\n\nCommunion, the highest symbol of faith, 267.\n\nCompass, the invention of, 83.\n\nCandillac, his philosophy, 17.\n\nConscience, its relationship to reason, 54.\n  imperfection of, 435.\n\nConsistency the criterion of truth, 252.\n\nCreation, final cause of, intelligible, 127.\n\n\nD\n\nDeath, final emancipation of nature from, 93.\n  destruction of, 340.\n\nDeluge, the, how to be considered, 218.\n\nDespotism, 290.\n  the natural result of anarchy, 291.\n\nDialogue the natural form of philosophy, 68.\n  the true form assumed by all living thought, 381.\n\nDiscernment the link between faith and science, 195.\n\nDivine--see _God_.\n\nDoubt, a necessary condition of man\u2019s mind, 426.\n  essential to man, 526.\n  the passage from ignorance to knowledge, 527.\n  absolute, a source of error, 530.\n  true, and limited, indispensable to advance of knowledge, 531.\n\nDreams, their character, 29.\n\n\nE\n\nEarth, man\u2019s affinity to, 81.\n\nEducation, its symbolical character, 262.\n  philosophy the crown of, 348.\n\nEnglish, the Reformation among, 299.\n  their constitution, 303.\n  Church and State. 304.\n\nEnthusiasm springs from love, 37.\n  the origin of patriotism, 38.\n  its longing for the eternal and divine, 38, 421, 479.\n\nEpicureans, the, 244.\n\nError, rapid growth of, 60.\n  four sources of, 105.\n  intermediate conflict of, with truth, 153.\n  religious, two forms of, 176.\n  twofold spirit of truth and error, 206.\n  struggle between, 207.\n  reason and fancy the ultimate sources of, 221.\n  understanding and will co-operating\n  causes in its formation and diffusion, 223.\n  truth not established by its refutation, 229.\n  controversy with, begets it, 314.\n  knowledge of, 489.\n  co-ordinate with knowledge, 506.\n  two sources of, in philosophy, 522.\n  subjective, 523.\n  absolute doubt a source of, 530.\n\nEternal punishments, 133.\n  the unquenchable fire, 134.\n\nEternity, 401.\n  not reconcilable with time, 405.\n  of the world, 406.\n\nEurope, peace of, based on Christian justice, 311.\n\nEvil, moral, a result of man\u2019s freedom, 130.\n  physical, a means of purification, 131.\n  influence of, in nature, 338.\n\n\nF\n\nFaith, man\u2019s, not sufficiently childlike, 112.\n  can restore unity to the mind, 113.\n  its dissension between faith and science, 193.\n  discernment the link between them, 196.\n  reconcilable with science, 199.\n  choice between that and infidelity, 210.\n  not a negative limitation of reason, 214.\n  its identity with supreme science, 216.\n  the soul\u2019s firmament, 218.\n  communion its highest symbol, 267.\n  genuine and spurious, 453.\n  true and false faith, 476.\n  universal, 486.\n  in relation to time, 498.\n  its relation to knowledge, 499.\n  knowledge impossible without it, 500.\n\nFall, the, physical consequences of, 92.\n  discord of the mind one of its consequences, 98.\n\nFalsehood to be fought with its own weapons, 156.\n  trifling with oaths, 159.\n  the present spirit of the age, 159.\n\nFancy, man\u2019s distinctive property, 25.\n  a division of the soul apart from reason, 30.\n  its influence on the sense, 31.\n  on the passions, 32.\n  its influence on the nobler feelings, 35.\n  on love and marriage, 37.\n  on enthusiasm, 37.\n  on all man\u2019s emotions, 40.\n  the poetical, 40.\n  its powers, 75.\n  fancy and reason the ultimate sources of error, 221.\n  seldom harmonizes with reason, 361.\n  not attributable to God, 370.\n\nFeeling, the center of consciousness, 473.\n  its spurious and genuine manifestations, 474.\n  a source of revelation, 518.\n\nFichte, his philosophy, 19.\n\nFinal causes, doctrine of, 125.\n  of creation intelligible, 127.\n\nFreedom, man\u2019s, 128.\n  moral evil a result of it, 130.\n  created spirits without it, 134.\n  of philosophy, 186.\n\nFrench, their modern philosophy, 17.\n  its atheism, 18.\n  its fatal results, 18.\n  their advancement in physical science, 22.\n\n\nG\n\nGeneration, spontaneous, creatures of, 122.\n\nGenius, worship of, 455.\n\nGeology, analogy of philology to, 388.\n  must maintain the union of soul and spirit, 443.\n\nGermans, their philosophy, 19.\n  Kant, 19.\n  Jacobi, Fichte, 19.\n  Schelling, 20.\n  Hegel, 21.\n  its superiority to the French, 22.\n  its old Christian empire, 288.\n  its customary law, 294.\n  confederation of states, 308, 312.\n\nGnostics, the, 246.\n\nGod, his attributes, 55.\n  figurative language as applied to Him, 56.\n  His divine nature unappreciated by reason, 57.\n  the understanding the only proper organ for acquiring\n   a knowledge of Him, 58.\n  limitation of His justice and mercy, 60.\n  knowledge of Him a science of experience, 61.\n  His revelation to man, 65.\n  knowledge of, illimitable, 73.\n  condescension of the divine essence, 108.\n  self-denial bringing us near Him, 109.\n  the author and preserver of nature\u2019s laws, 117.\n  His divine nature not subject to necessity, 129.\n  His divine wisdom manifested in the realm of truth, 141.\n  His divine order in the history of the world and relations of States, 162.\n  the source of justice and authority, 168.\n  kings His vicegerents, 169.\n  priests, 171.\n  His temporal judgments on the world, 178.\n  the Greeks His second chosen people, 180.\n  His being not a matter of reasoning, 190.\n  can alone bring about the theory of science, 334.\n  restoration of His image in man, 337.\n  the mind\u2019s consummation in Him, 366.\n  understanding may be predicated of Him, 371.\n  can not be said to have a soul, 372.\n  the idea of, the only idea, 445.\n  unintelligible without love, 446.\n\nGreeks, their philosophers, different cosmogonies of, 8.\n  a second chosen people of God, 180.\n  rise and decline of their philosophy, 239.\n  their logic, 254.\n\n\nH\n\nHeathenism a corruption of a purer Gentilism, 234.\n\nHegel, his philosophy, 21.\n\nHieroglyphics, illustrated symbolism of life, 270.\n\nHindoos, their trinity, character of, 202.\n  their logic, 254.\n\nHistory, a prelude of the final judgment, 172.\n  a rehearsal of the first temptation, 173.\n  ancient, its results, 291.\n\nHonor apart from pride, 35.\n\nHope, the vital flame of faith and love, 114, 420.\n  universal, 486.\n  in relation to time, 498.\n\n\nI\n\nIdealism, 511, 523.\n\nIdeas, innate, 79.\n  of death, 79.\n\nIdentity, system of, 511.\n\nIdolatry of science, 216.\n  of rationalism, 221.\n\nIncarnation, the principle of new life, 272.\n\nIndians, their affinity to the Teutons, 307.\n\nIndustry apart from avarice, 35.\n\nInfidelity, choice between, and faith, 210.\n  its identity with superstition, 211.\n\nInfinite, the, poetry a feeling of, 414.\n  art, a feeling of, 415.\n  effects of a perverted sense of, 416.\n  influence of pure longing for, 418.\n\nInnocence, remembrances of primeval, 496.\n\nInstincts, divided from the senses, 31.\n  become passions, 32.\n  their pernicious character, 33.\n  their nobler character, 35.\n  the external, 429.\n\nIntuition, intellectual, theory of, 253.\n\nIrony, 380.\n\n\nJ\n\nJacobi, his philosophy, 19.\n\nJews, the prophetic people, 146.\n  their present state, 181.\n  their dispensation, struggle between light and darkness in, 217.\n  their theocracy--see _Theocracy_.\n  their monarchy, 325.\n\nJohn, St., Gospel of, 204.\n\nJudges, the ministers of the Jewish theocracy, 324.\n\nJudgment, the faculty of, 166.\n  final, history a prelude of, 172.\n  the last, 177.\n  God\u2019s temporal judgments, 178.\n  phenomena of, 438.\n  essentially a feeling, 439.\n\nJudicial, the, the highest function of kings, 275.\n  constitute all prerogatives of supreme power, 278.\n  the throne and scepter its symbols, 279.\n\nJurisprudence, Christian, 295.\n\nJustice, divine, limited, 61.\n  God the source of, 168.\n  Christian, the basis of European peace, 311, 316.\n\n\nK\n\nKant, his philosophy, 19.\n\nKings, the vicegerents of God, 169, 280.\n  their power, 273.\n  sanctity of, 274.\n  the judicial, the highest function of, 275.\n\nKnowledge, true, slow progress of, 59.\n  absolute, false character of, 60.\n  of God, a science of experience, 61.\n  or divine things, illimitable, 73.\n  pursuit of, must have a real basis, 491.\n  relation of faith to, 499.\n  impossible without faith, 500.\n  true, 532.\n  must start from a real object, 538.\n  its second step a generalization, 539.\n  its third step an idea, 540.\n\n\nL\n\nLanguage, how produced, 49.\n  the joint produce of tool and spirit, 378.\n  origin of, 383.\n  the original, now lost, 386.\n  original unity of, probable, 387.\n  primary and secondary, 389.\n  English, Persian, and French, 390.\n  perfect in its origin, 391.\n  classification of, 393.\n  the picture of consciousness, 395.\n  the common memory of mankind, 397.\n  elements of, 448.\n  ten, the true number of elementary sounds, 449.\n  vowels, consonants, and aspirates, 451.\n  the psychological alphabet, 452.\n\nLife, its symbolical nature and constitution\n  with reference to art and man\u2019s moral relations, 256.\n  symbolical equation of, 269.\n  its symbolisms illustrated by hieroglyphics, 270.\n  new, incarnation, the principle of, 272.\n  philosophy conversant with it, 350.\n  the final object of physical research, 502.\n  the unity of being and thought, 512.\n  see also _Philosophy_.\n\nLogic of the Greeks and Hindoos, 254.\n  utility of a higher one, 254.\n  true, a grammar, 465.\n\nLove, the foundation of happiness and moral welfare, 36.\n  marriage, 36.\n  the origin of enthusiasm, patriotism, &c., 37.\n  its connection with marriage, 41.\n  difference between genuine and spurious, 42.\n  the means of reuniting the reason and fancy, 362.\n  universal, 486.\n  in relation to time, 498.\n\n\nM\n\nMagnetism, phenomena of, 83.\n\nMohammedan empire, 180.\n  change in their position, 182.\n  compared with the Roman, 297.\n  spread of Christian ideas in, 297.\n\nMan, compared with spiritual beings, 24.\n  fancy his distinctive property, 25.\n  his triple nature, 26.\n  his fourfold consciousness, 27.\n  physiology of, 76.\n  his affinity to the earth, 81.\n  concurrence of his will in faith, 109.\n  his faith not sufficiently childlike, 112.\n  his longing after the eternal and sublime, 113.\n  his freedom, 128.\n  moral evil a result of his freedom, 130.\n  physical evil a means of purification, 131.\n  eternal punishment of, 132.\n  doctrine of his pre-existence, 137.\n  nature considered relatively to him, 139.\n  his gradual development, 141.\n  his general sense for truth, 144.\n  philosophy of life a science of, 187.\n  his nature symbolical, 263.\n  restoration of the divine image in, 337.\n  compared with brutes, 360.\n  with angels, 360, 368.\n  ascription of his faculties to God, 369.\n  his free will, 373.\n  manifested in doubt, 375.\n  the created word, 425.\n  doubt a necessary condition of his mind, 426.\n  partial development of his faculties, 433.\n  his knowledge, 481.\n  can it be perfect? 484.\n  limits to his speculation, 535.\n\nMarriage, the foundation of human and political society, 36.\n  the world\u2019s judgment of it, 42.\n  difference between genuine and spurious love, 42.\n  its three conditions, 43.\n  reciprocal influence, 44.\n\nMaterialism has its rise in imagination, 519.\n\nMathematics, formul\u00e6 of, inappropriate to\n  philosophy, 14.\n  that of nature, 81.\n  use of, in philosophy, 345.\n  principles of empirical, 508.\n\nMedicine, a basis of the science of nature, 78.\n\nMemory, a faculty of the soul, 51, 398.\n  essential to rationality, 52.\n  imperfections of, 434.\n\nMercy, divine, limited, 61.\n\nMethod, right use of, in philosophy. 13, 186.\n\nMiddle age--see _Age_.\n\nMind, the, intrinsic discord of, 96.\n  a consequence of the fall, 98.\n  restoration of unity, 99.\n  originally simple, 102.\n  its essence in pure spirits, 104.\n  unity of, only to be restored by faith, 114.\n  struggle between light and darkness in, 209.\n  the principle of supreme science, 215.\n  restoration of perfection to it, 335.\n  a prey to discord. 356.\n  the, fourfold discord of, 359.\n  its consummation in God, 366.\n  inherent discord of, 376.\n  its yearnings after unity, 377.\n  doubt a necessary condition of, 426.\n  feeling the center of unity in, 436.\n\nMiracles, possibility of, 117.\n\nMonarchy, hereditary, the true Christian polity, 286.\n  mixed, 289.\n\nMoses fought falsehood with its own weapons, 156.\n  founder of the Jewish theocracy, 321.\n\nMusic the representation of ideas, 257.\n\nMysteries in nature, 126.\n\nMythology, the subjective the principle of, 219.\n  its pantheism, 220.\n  ancient, 517.\n  vestiges in it of divine truth, 518.\n\n\nN\n\nNature, science of, based on medicine, 78.\n  possibility of attaining it, 79.\n  innate ideal of its true mathematics, 80.\n  man\u2019s affinity to the earth, 81.\n  magnetism, 83.\n  the compass, 83.\n  legend of Atlantis, 83.\n  modern astronomy, 84.\n  seven the traditionary number of the planets, 85.\n  Pythagorean system of astronomy, 85.\n  results of modern chemical analysis, 87.\n  nature, a system of living forces, 88.\n  sleep an essential law of, 89.\n  intelligible to the spiritual only, 90.\n  physical consequences of the fall, 92.\n  final emancipation of from death, 93.\n  its divine order, 115.\n  a living reproductive power, 116.\n  God the author and preserver of its laws, 117.\n  miracles, the Deluge, 118.\n  no blind necessary force, 119.\n  a Theodic\u00e9e, or justification of God\u2019s ways in the\n   world--its perplexities, 120.\n  the soul of animals, 121.\n  creatures of spontaneous generation, 122.\n  influence of the evil spirits, 124.\n  doctrine of final cause, 125.\n  the preadamite world a paradise for angels, 125.\n  mysteries in, 126.\n  final cause of creation intelligible, 127.\n  divine nature not subject to necessity, 129.\n  created spirits without freedom, 134.\n  immortal spirits with animal forms, 135.\n  nature considered relatively to man, 139.\n  best described by symbols, 140.\n  influence of evil in, 338.\n  originally created immortal, 340.\n  perfection of, 340.\n\nNerves, \u00e6ther of, 76.\n\nNumbers, Pythagorean theory of, 462.\n\n\nP\n\nPainting, the true spiritual art, 259.\n\nPantheism, mythological and scientific, 220.\n  as fatal to truth as rationalism, 226.\n\nParental power, 273.\n  sanctity of, 273.\n\nPassions, arise from the higher instincts, 32.\n  the pernicious, 33.\n  the nobler, 35.\n\nPatriotism springs from enthusiasm and love, 40.\n\nPeace, Christian, universal, 183.\n\nPhilology, its analogy to geology, 388.\n\nPhilosophy, its dreamy character, 7.\n  unfeasibility of Plato\u2019s ideal, 8.\n  cosmogonies of the Ionian school, 8.\n  objects and limits, 9.\n  form and method of true philosophy, 10.\n  that of the schools unintelligible, 11.\n  distinction between that of life and that of the schools, 11.\n  intelligibility of the former, 12.\n  right use of method, 13.\n  mathematical formul\u00e6 inappropriate, 14.\n  unity of its thoughts, 15.\n  modern French systems, 17.\n  modern German, 19.\n  French physical science, 22.\n  natural German philosophy superior to the French, 22.\n  the false starting-point contrasted with the true center, 22.\n  dialogue its natural form, 68.\n  improperly confined to a school, 69.\n  that of life can not be a mere science of reason, 185.\n  free to use any form or method, 186.\n  that of life a science of man, 187.\n  differs from theology, 188.\n  the relation of truth and science to it, 232.\n  of the Greeks, rise and decline of, 234.\n  Ionian schools not materialistic, 240.\n  religious tendency of Pythagorean and Plato, 240.\n  the Sophists--Aristotle, 243.\n  the Stoics and Epicureans, 244.\n  of the Christians--see _Christianity_.\n  of life, its symbolical nature and constitution, 256.\n  true method of, 343.\n  use of scholastic or mathematical forms, 345.\n  use and abuse of system, 346.\n  the crown of education, 348.\n  conversant with life, 350.\n  deals chiefly with facts, 428.\n  from natural science, 467.\n  method of multiform, 470.\n  its true method conversational, 472.\n  two sources of error in, 522.\n\nPhysiology of man, 76.\n\nPlanets, seven the traditionary number, 85.\n\nPlato, his ideal unfeasible, 8.\n\ntrinity of, 202.\n  religious tendency of, 240.\n\nPoetry embraces music, poetry, and architecture, 261.\n  a feeling of the infinite, 414.\n  spurious, 461.\n  philosophical, 516.\n\nPower, absolute, considered, 175.\n\nPreadamite world, a paradise for angels, 125.\n\nPre-existence, doctrine of, 137.\n\nPrerogative, all of supreme power judicial, 278.\n\nPride, its character, 33.\n\nPriests, the vicegerents of God, 171.\n  their power, 273.\n  sanctity of, 274.\n  Christian, not hereditary, 307.\n\nPrinciple, doctrine of a good and evil, 528.\n\nProphets, the, kept alive the Jewish theocracy, 326.\n\nPublic opinion, 165.\n\nPunishments, eternal, 133.\n\nPythagoreans, their system of astronomy, 85.\n  their religious tendency, 240.\n  their noble political views, 242.\n  their theory of numbers, 462.\n\n\nR\n\nRationalism, idolatry of, 221.\n  as fatal to truth as pantheism, 226.\n  more to be feared at present, 227.\n  danger of, 454.\n\nReason, a division of the soul apart from fancy, 29.\n  its essence, 50.\n  relationship of the faculties of the soul to it, 50.\n  its power and value, 53.\n  derivation of the German name, 54.\n  distinction between, and understanding, 55.\n  not properly attributable to God, 63.\n  faith not a negative limitation of, 214.\n  reason and fancy the ultimate sources of error, 221.\n  seldom harmonizes with fancy, 361.\n  not attributable to God, 370.\n  discursive, not creative, 507.\n  use and abuse of, 509.\n\nReformation, the English, 299.\n\nReligion, its symbolism, 264.\n  in its essence symbolical, 266.\n\nReligious error, two forms of, 176.\n\nRepresentative governments, 280.\n\nRepublics, their liability to adverse changes, 284.\n  disadvantages of their polity, 285.\n\nRevelation, power to understand it the gift of God, 61.\n  its fourfold character, 65.\n  of Scripture, 65.\n  an ante-Mosaic revelation, 66.\n  the soul its receptive organ, 68.\n  its first step preparatory, 143.\n  gradual, 144.\n  that of Christianity, 147.\n  unwritten to the antediluvian world, 235.\n  both old and new in its doctrine, 323.\n  sources of, manifold, 503.\n\nRoman Empire, law of, 293.\n  compared with the Mohammedan, 297.\n\n\nS\n\nSkepticism, the author of it, 528.\n\nScepter, the, a judicial symbol, 279.\n\nSchelling, his philosophy, 20.\n\nSchools, philosophy of, unintelligible, 11.\n  their compared with that of life, 11.\n  philosophy improperly confined to them, 69.\n  disputations of the schoolmen, 248.\n\nScience, physical, no system of, in the Bible, 71.\n  its imperfect character, 73.\n  of nature, medicine a basis of, 78.\n  modern, its atheistical tendency, 155.\n  dissension between science and faith, 193.\n  discernment the link between, and faith, 195.\n  reconcilable with faith, 198.\n  supreme, the mind the principle of, 215.\n  idolatry of, 216.\n  its identity with faith, 217.\n  its pantheism, 220.\n  its relation to life, 232.\n  that of Christianity--see _Christianity_.\n  a great power for good, 315.\n  free development of, 317.\n  a real power for good, 319.\n  theocracy of, 329.\n  illustrations of, 330.\n  to be brought about only by God, 333.\n  the idea of, 488.\n\nScripture not the original revelation, 66.\n  contains no system of physical science, 71.\n  considered as the sword of the Spirit, 230.\n\nSculpture, its symbolical character, 257.\n  its alliance to architecture, 260.\n\nSelf, sacrifice of, brings us near to God, 109.\n  how far necessary, 110.\n\nSenses, their triple character, 31, 431.\n  influence of fancy on, 31.\n  the external, 430.\n  higher sensuality, its character, 33.\n  developments of, 432.\n\nSleep an essential law of nature, 89.\n\nSoul, the thinking, the center of thought, 23.\n  the center of moral life, 28.\n  its unconscious conceptions, 29.\n  divided between the abstracting and classifying\n   reason and the inventive fancy, 29.\n  its four principal branches, 30.\n  the loving, the center of moral life, 41.\n  its share in knowledge, 48.\n  furnishes the cognitive mind with language, 48.\n  its faculties in relationship to the reason, 50.\n  the receptive organ of revelation, 68.\n  considered in relation to nature, 70.\n  considered in relation to God, 95.\n  of animals, 121.\n  its migration among the stars, 138.\n  the principle of faith, 213.\n  faith its firmament, 217.\n  the mutual dependence of it with thought, 365.\n  its identity with spirit, 367.\n  its union with the spirit, 442.\n  the idea of God must maintain it, 443.\n  see _Mind_.\n\nSpeech the outward projection of thought, 379.\n  varied by moral diversities, 392.\n\nSpinosa, system of, 481.\n  its influence, 484.\n\nSpirits besides those of men, 24.\n  the higher, incorporeal, 25.\n  contain the essence of mind, 103.\n\nSpirits, influence of evil, on nature, 124.\n  created, without freedom, 134.\n  immortal ones with animal forms, 135.\n  Scriptures the sword of the Spirit, 230.\n  see _Soul_.\n\nStars, migration of the soul among, 138.\n\nState, the, its collision with the Church, 299, 304.\n  separation of, 306.\n\nStoics, the, 244.\n\nSubjective, the, the principle of mythology, 218.\n\nSuperstition, its identity with infidelity, 211.\n\nSymbols, nature best described by, 140.\n  characterize all art, 257.\n  characterize education, 262.\n  characterizes man\u2019s nature, 263.\n  those of religion, 264.\n  their equation of life, 269.\n  those of the judicial, 279.\n\nSystem, use and abuse of, 346.\n  consistency of idea, the essence of, 347.\n\n\nT\n\nTalmud, trinity of, 204.\n\nTeutons, their affinity to the Indians, 307.\n\nTheocracy, the true idea of, 320.\n  the Jewish, 321.\n  Moses, as founder of, 321.\n  revelation both old and new in its doctrine, 323.\n  the Judges, as ministers of, 324.\n  kept alive by the Prophets, 326.\n  false notions of, 327.\n  exists in overruling Providence, 327.\n  that of science, 329.\n  illustrations of, from Greek, Roman, Medieval, and Hindoo literature, 331.\n  illustrations of, from Old and New Testament and Christian literature, 332.\n  only to be brought about by God, 333.\n\nTheodic\u00e9e, its perplexities, 120.\n\nTheology, difference of philosophy of life from, 188.\n  natural, 192.\n  in method must be rational, 510.\n\nThought, the mutual dependence of it with feeling, 365.\n  speech its outward projection, 379.\n  an inward speech or dialogue, 380.\n  dialogue the true form assumed by, 381.\n  innate ideas and forms of, 399.\n  pure, its character, 461.\n\nThrone, the, a judicial symbol, 279.\n\nTime, 401.\n  its twofold character, 403.\n  not excluded from the idea of God, 404.\n  not irreconcilable with eternity, 405.\n\nTrinity, the, of God, 197.\n  of the Hindoos, 202.\n  of the Platonists, 202.\n  of the Talmud, 204.\n\nTruth, man\u2019s general sense for, 144.\n  final manifestation of, 152.\n  intermediate conflict of, with error, 153.\n  falsehood to be fought with its own weapons, 156.\n  a struggle for truth the conflict of the age, 158.\n  untruth the spirit of the age, 159.\n  call for union among the friends of, 160.\n  final triumph of, 161.\n  patience essential to the pursuit of, 199.\n  the twofold spirit of truth and error, 206.\n  struggle between, and error, 207.\n  pantheism and rationalism alike fatal to it, 226.\n  not established by refutation of error, 229.\n  right method of propagating it, 229.\n  its relation to life, 232.\n  consistency the criterion of, 252.\n  progress of, 467.\n  knowledge of possible, 490.\n  development of, slow and gradual, 534.\n\n\nU\n\nUnderstanding, the, considered apart from reason, 55.\n  the only proper organ for acquiring a knowledge of God, 57.\n  a co-operating cause in the formation and diffusion of error, 223.\n  may be predicated of God, 371.\n\nUnity, means of restoration to, 193.\n  yearnings of the mind after, 377.\n\n\nW\n\nWestphalia, peace of, a master-stroke of policy, 183\n\nWill, its concurrence in faith a co-operating cause in\n   the formation and diffusion of error, 223.\n  freedom of, 373.\n  in man and angels, 374.\n  manifested in doubt, 375.\n\nWisdom, created, 495.\n\nWit, origin and forms of, 447.\n\nWomen, the soul pre-eminent in their mental constitution, 46.\n\nWorld, the preadamite, a paradise for angels, 125.\n  antediluvian, mental state of, 233.\n  unwritten revelations to it, 235.\n  conceptions of the antediluvian inadequate, 236.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nVALUABLE SCHOOL CLASSICS\n\nRECENTLY PUBLISHED BY\n\nHARPER AND BROTHERS, NEW YORK.\n\n\n  ECLECTIC MORAL PHILOSOPHY.\n    By Rev. 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Sheep extra, 90 cents.\n\n  FAMILY CLASSICAL LIBRARY.\n    Comprising Translations of the best Classics. 36 vols.\n    18mo, Muslin gilt, 45 cents each.\n\n  ELEMENTS OF MENTAL PHILOSOPHY.\n    By Professor THOMAS C. UPHAM. 2 vols. 12mo, Sheep extra, $2 50.\n\n  The same Work abridged. 12mo, Sheep extra, $1 25.\n\n  A PHILOSOPHICAL AND PRACTICAL TREATISE ON THE\n    WILL. By Professor THOMAS C. UPHAM. 12mo, Sheep extra, $1 25.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Shakspeare. Hamlet, Act I., Scene V.\n\n    \u201cThere are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,\n     Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.\u201d\n\nSchlegel seems to have read _our_, which is the reading of the folio of\n1623.--_Trans._\n\n[2] The \u03bd\u03bf\u1f51\u03c2 of Anaxagoras. A brief, but characteristic\nsketch of these earlier philosophemes is given in Thirlwall\u2019s History\nof Greece, vol ii. See, also, Ritter\u2019s History of Philosophy, vol.\ni--_Trans_.\n\n[3] Schlegel is here alluding to Condillac and his theory of\ntransformed sensations.--_Trans._\n\n[4] Kant. For a full and systematic view or modern German philosophy,\nsee Michelet\u2019s Geschichte d. letzten Systeme d. Phil. in Deutschland,\nBerlin, 1837-8. Some able and ingenious essays on its errors and\nabuses are to be found in Fred. Ancillon\u2019s Essais de Philosophie, de\nPolitique, et de Litt\u00e9rature.--_Trans._\n\n[5] Jacobi, in his Glauben\u2019s-Philosophie.--_Trans._\n\n[6] Fichte\u2019s Wissenschaftslehre.--_Trans._\n\n[7] Schelling\u2019s Natur-Philosophie.--_Trans._\n\n[8] Schlegel is alluding to those systems which suppose a primary and\noriginal essence, which, by its successive spontaneous developments,\nproduce every thing else out of itself. This absolute original of all\nthings was by Schelling, after Spinosa, called _natura naturans_,\nwhile, by a phraseology which happily indicates the identity of the\nself-developing subject and its objective developments, the totality of\nthe objects derived from it are termed _natura naturata_.--_Trans._\n\n[9] Hegel. For a view of his philosophy, see the Article Hegel, in the\nPenny Cyclop\u00e6dia, and Morel\u2019s Speculative Philosophy of Europe in the\nNineteenth Century, vol. ii., p. 131.--_Trans._\n\n[10] Schlegel is speaking of Byron, and his Cain, a Mystery.--_Trans._\n\n[11]\n\n    \u201cDein Wissen theilest du mit vorgezogenen Geistern;\n     Die Kunst, o Mensch, hast du allein.\u201d\n           SCHILLER\u2019S _Kunstlehre.--Trans._\n\n\n[12] That by geist, spirit, and not mind merely, is here meant, will be\ndoubted by no one who considers the scriptural basis of these Lectures.\nSchlegel seems to have had in view 1 Thess., v., 23. In the German\n_geist_ stands both for mind and spirit, which, however, in English\nare equivalent neither in use nor meaning. Whenever, therefore, the\ntranslator is compelled by the English idiom to translate _geist_ and\nits derivatives by mind and its cognates, and it is essential to keep\nin view the identity of the matter by the sameness of expression, he\nwill indicate it by adding the German original in a bracket.\n\n[13] St. John, iii., 8.--_Trans._\n\n[14] Leibnitz.--_Trans._\n\n[15] It is clear from what follows, that Schlegel used the term Fancy\nin a wide and general sense, which embraces, first, its original use\nin ancient philosophy, as the faculty of conception (\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1), which\nreproduces the images of objects whether present or absent; secondly,\nimagination, which is essential to all authors; and thirdly, fancy, in\na narrow sense--or the poetic fancy. It is in this wide sense that the\ntranslator employs it after Milton who uses it, as more extensive than\nimagination, when he says of fancy,\n\n            \u201cOf all the external things\n    Which the five watchful senses represent,\n    She forms imaginations, aery shapes.\u201d\n             _Par. Lost, Book V._\n\nIndeed the whole of the speech of Raphael in this fifth book contains\na striking affinity of thought and idea with Schlegel. We have\nthere man\u2019s triple constituents, body, soul, and spirit--reason and\nfancy in the soul, of which reason is the being or essence--while\ndiscursive reason is appropriated to man, but intuitive reason is made\nthe prerogative of the \u201cpurest spirits\u201d--\u201cthe pure intelligential\nsubstances.\u201d--_Trans._\n\n[16] In the original _zugetheilte_, said of a matter assigned for\ninvestigation to a particular judge, or of the judge appointed to\nexamine and report upon it.--_Trans._\n\n[17] Vernunft, from Vernehmen.\n\n[18] The Rosetta stone, which led to the hieroglyphical discoveries of\nYoung and of Champollion.--_Trans._\n\n[19] \u201cGod is _a loving Spirit_,\u201d page 57.--_Trans._\n\n[20] Schlegel is here alluding to, and adapting to the purpose of his\nillustration, Acts, v., 15, 16.--_Trans_.\n\n[21] 2 Peter, iii., 8.\n\n[22] These words were uttered scarcely twenty years ago, and now beyond\nUranus, another planet, whose \u201cvibrations have been long felt upon\npaper,\u201d is added to the heavenly choir. On the other hand, if Sir Wm.\nHamilton\u2019s hopes are realized, will not the discovery of the center\naround which the solar system revolves establish another point of\nresemblance between modern astronomy and the Pythagorean system with\nits central fire; and, also, as Schlegel subsequently implies, that the\nformer has yet further advances to make?--_Trans._\n\n[23] Or the central fire, according to Boeckh, around which the whole\nplanetary heavens revolve, and which is also the source of light, which\nbeing collected by the visible sun, is transmitted to the earth. By\nthe \u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u1f31\u03c7\u03b8\u03bd or counter-earth, whose revolution is\nparallel and concentric with that of the earth, Boeckh understands\nthat half of the terrestrial globe which, as turned away from the sun,\nis in darkness. Sea August. Boeckh \u201cde Platonico systemate c\u0153lestium\ngloborum, et de vere indole astronomi\u00e6 Philolaic\u00e6,\u201d or his \u201cPhilolaus,\u201d\npp. 114-136, and Ideler \u201cUeber d. Verhaltniss d. Copernicus zum\nAlterthum,\u201d in the Museum d. Alterthumswissenschaft, Bd. ii., St. ii.,\n\u00a7 405, &c.--_Trans._\n\n[24] Romans, viii., 20.\n\n[25] Schlegel is alluding to such principles as the \u201c_Cogito ergo sum_\u201d\nof Des Cartes, and especially to the cognate axiom of Fichte: \u201cDas ich\nsetzt sich selbst.\u201d \u201cThe Me posits or affirms itself.\u201d--_Trans._\n\n[26] Hegel.\n\n[27] Daniel, ix., 23. In our authorized translation it stands\n\u201cgreatly beloved,\u201d but in the Hebrew it is as given in the margin,\n\u201ca man of desires;\u201d in the Septuagint, \u1f01\u03bd\u1f21\u03c1 \u1f11\u03c4\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u1f31\u03c9\u03bd.--_Trans._\n\n[28] 1 Cor., xiii., 13.\n\n[29] Theodic\u00e9e, or justification of the ways of God in the world. The\nword originated with Leibnitz, who, in his \u201cEssai de Theodic\u00e9e sur la\nbont\u00e9 de Dieu, la libert\u00e9 de l\u2019homme et l\u2019origine du mal,\u201d published\nin 1710, maintained that the existence of moral evil has its origin\nin the free will of the creature, while metaphysical evil is nothing\nbut the limitation which is involved in the essence of finite beings,\nand that out of this both physical and moral evil naturally flow. But\nthese finite beings are designed to attain to the utmost felicity they\nare capable of enjoying, which each, as a part, contributes to the\nperfection of the whole, which, of the many worlds that were possible,\nis the very best. On this account it has been called the theory of\nOptimism.--_Trans._\n\n[30] Does not this appearance of a common character among brutes of the\nsame species arise rather from the imperfection of our observation? Is\nnot every sheep an individual to the shepherd?--_Trans._\n\n[31] Schlegel appears to have believed in the theory of equivocal\ngeneration. But microscopic research and experiments forbid us\nany longer to believe that fermentative or putrefactive matter\nspontaneously gives birth to living creatures. Such matters do but\nfurnish the necessary circumstances for hatching the germs or ova which\nare present in such immense numbers in the atmosphere. The doctrine of\nequivocal or spontaneous generation seems conclusively refuted by the\nexperiment of Schulze, detailed in volume 23 of Jameson\u2019s Journal. \u201cI\nfilled a glass flask half full with distilled water, in which I had\nmixed various vegetable and animal substances. I then closed it with\na good cork, through which I passed two glass tubes, bent at right\nangles, the whole being air-tight. It was next placed in a sand-bath\nand heated until the water boiled violently, and thus all parts had\nreached a temperature of 212\u00b0 Fahrenheit. While the watery vapor was\nescaping by the glass tubes, I fastened at each end an apparatus which\nchemists employ for collecting carbonic acid; that to the left was\nfilled with sulphuric acid, and the other with a solution of potash.\nBy means of the boiling heat, every thing living and all the germs in\nthe flask or in the tubes were destroyed, and all access was cut off\nby the sulphuric acid on the one side, and by the potash on the other.\nI placed this easily-moved apparatus before my window, where it was\nexposed to the action of light, and also, as I performed my experiments\nin the summer, to that of heat. At the same time I placed near it an\nopen vessel with the same substances that had been introduced into the\nflask, and also after having subjected them to a boiling temperature.\nIn order now to renew the air constantly within the flask, I sucked\nwith my mouth, several times a-day, the open end of the apparatus\nfilled with solution of potash; by which process, the air entered my\nmouth from the flask, through the caustic liquid, and the atmospheric\nair from without entered the flask through the sulphuric acid. The air\nwas, of course, not altered in its composition by passing through the\nsulphuric acid into the flask; but if sufficient time was allowed for\nthe passage, all the portions of living matter, or of matter capable of\nbecoming animated, were taken up by the sulphuric acid and destroyed.\nFrom the 28th of May until the early part of August, I continued\nuninterruptedly the renewal of the air in the flask, without being\nable, by the aid of a microscope, to perceive any living animal or\nvegetable substance, although, during the whole of the time, I made\nmy observations almost daily on the edge of the liquid; and when at\nlast I separated the different parts of the apparatus, I could not\nfind in the whole liquid the slightest trace of Infusoria, Conferv\u00e6,\nor of Mold. But all the three presented themselves in a few days after\nI left the flask open. And the open vessel too, which I placed near\nthe apparatus, contained on the following day, Vibriones and Monades,\nto which were soon added larger Polygastric Infusoria, and afterward,\nRotatoria.\u201d--_Trans._\n\n[32] Although, in the case of the entozoa, the induction is not very\nlarge, still, of some of them it is an established fact that they are\ngenerated from ova, and it is therefore a fair presumption that such\nis the general law, and that these parasitical beings are, in every\ncase, hatched from ova, which are every where present, but remain\nundeveloped until they meet with the necessary nutriment and heat for\ntheir development.--_Trans._\n\n[33] Isaiah, lxv., 17.\n\n[34] In this and the following paragraph it is necessary to bear in\nmind that Schlegel, as a member of the Roman Catholic Church, held the\ndoctrine of a purgatory, which the catechism of the Council of Trent\ndescribes as a fire, \u201cin which the souls of the _pious_ are tortured\nfor a certain time, and expiated, that they may be qualified to enter\nthat eternal country into which nothing enters that is unclean.\u201d\n\u201cPurgatorius ignis, quo piorum anim\u00e6 ad definitum tempus cruciat\u00e6\nexpiantur, ut eis in \u00e6ternam patriam ingressus patere possit, in quam\nnihil coinquinatum ingreditur.\u201d--_Cat. Conc. Trid._, pars i., art. v.,\nc. 5.--_Trans._\n\n[35] Eph., vi., 12; Col., ii., 15, &c.\n\n[36] Dell\u2019 Inferno, Canto III.\n\n    \u201c............ quel cattivo coro\n      Degli angeli che non furon rebelli,\n      N\u00e8 fur fedeli a Dio, ma per ae foro.\n    Cacciarli i Ciel, per non esser men belli;\n      N\u00e8 lo profundo Inferno gli riceve,\n      Ch\u2019 alcuna gloria i rel avrebber d\u2019 elli.\u201d\n\nThus rendered by Carey:--\n\n    \u201c............. with that ill-band\n    Of angels mixed, who nor rebellious proved\n    Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves\n    Were only. From his bounds Heaven drove them,\n    Not to impair his luster; nor the depth\n    Of Hell receives them, lest th\u2019 accursed tribe\n    Should glory thence with exultation vain.\u201d--Trans.\n\n\n[37] Gal., iii., 24.\n\n[38] The Gnostics and the Manichees.--_Trans._\n\n[39] The Arians, with all the other rationalizing sects of No\u00ebtus, Paul\nof Samosata, Sabellius, and the like.--_Trans._\n\n[40] The schism of the East and West--of the Greek and Roman\nchurches--produced by the illegal interference of the bishops of Rome,\nin the diocese of the Patriarch of Constantinople.--_Trans._\n\n[41] Luke xxii., 38.\n\n[42] Rev., xiv., 6.\n\n[43] 1 Kings, iii., 16.\n\n[44] The Apocalypse or Revelations of St. John the Divine.--_Trans._\n\n[45] Matt., xxiii., 13.\n\n[46] Acts, vii., 22.\n\n[47] Schlegel is apparently alluding to the triumph of Mohammedism in\nAsia and Africa, and the almost total extinction of Christianity in\nthose quarters of the world.--_Trans._\n\n[48] \u201cDie Weltgeschichte ist das Weltgericht.\u201d\n\nSCHILLER\u2019S _Ode to Resignation_.\n\n\n[49] The following passage forcibly expresses Schlegel\u2019s thoughts on\nthis point:--\u201cLes individus de l\u2019esp\u00e8ce humaine s\u2019\u00e9chappent quelquefois\naux suites de leurs actions, qui dans la r\u00e8gle doivent \u00eatre regard\u00e9es\ncomme les justes ch\u00e2timens des infractions faites \u00e0 la loi de Dieu. Les\nnations ne sauraient s\u2019y soustraire; car leur existence se prolonge et\nse projette dans un espace immense, o\u00f9 les lois eternelles trouvent\nleur sanction et leur entier accomplissement. C\u2019est l\u00e0 que la terrible\nN\u00e9m\u00e9sis se d\u00e9ploie tout enti\u00e8re, et exerce sur le crime sa bienfaisante\nr\u00e9action; c\u2019est sur la longue route que d\u00e9crivent les nations que, dans\nsa marche lente, silencieuse, mais s\u00fbre, elle punit la licence par le\ndespotisme, et le despotisme par l\u2019insurrection, o\u00f9 par la d\u00e9g\u00e9n\u00e9ration\ndes peuples; c\u2019est l\u00e0 que l\u2019\u00e9goisme et immoralit\u00e9 des peuples, la\nl\u00e2chet\u00e9 et la faiblesse des souverains et la servilit\u00e9 am\u00e8nent\ndes r\u00e9sultats aussi terribles qu\u2019in\u00e9vitables. On peut dire d\u2019eux:\n\u2018_Habuerent vitia opatium exemplorum_.\u2019\u201d--ANCILLON. _Essais de\nPhilosophe, de Politique, et de la Litt\u00e9rature_, tom. ii.--_Trans._\n\n[50] Voltaire.\n\n[51] In the book of Job we have a picture of this earlier and purer\nreligion of nature, as professed by this Idum\u00e6an Gentile, while, in his\nvindication of himself, we read a testimony to the existence of the\nbeginnings of idolatry in the worship of the host of heaven. xxxi.,\n5.--_Trans._\n\n[52] This statement does not necessarily imply the Romish doctrine of\ntransubstantiation. It is fully met in an unobjectionable sense by the\nCatholic tenet of the real presence.--_Trans._\n\n[53] Schlegel is apparently referring to the Constituent Assembly of\nthe French Revolution.--_Trans._\n\n[54] 2 Sam., xxiv., 14.\n\n[55] John, viii., 36.\n\n[56] In this and the following sentence Schlegel is alluding to Holland\nand Poland.--_Trans._\n\n[57] The Kaiser was in theory the temporal lord of the whole earth;\naccording to the words of the Sachsen-Spiegel, \u201cZwei swert liess Got\nin ertriche zu beschirmene dy Christenheit, dem Pabste das geistliche,\nden Keiser das werltliche.\u201d \u201cTwo swords has God left to the world to\nprotect Christianity; (having given) to the Pope the spiritual, and the\ntemporal to the Emperor.\u201d The claim of the Empire to universal dominion\nwas indicated by the sword pointing to the four points of the heavens,\nwhile as the \u201cHoly Empire\u201d it was its duty to exterminate not only\nthe Heathens and the Moslems, but also the false Christians, as the\nmembers of the Greek Church were regarded by the West. In the medieval\nconstitution of the Empire, a symbolical character prevails throughout.\nSeven were its shields: of these the first was borne by the Emperor;\nthe second by the spiritual Electors; the third by the temporal\nPrinces; the fourth and fifth by the Counts and Knights of the Empire;\nthe sixth by their vassals; and the seventh by the free burghers and\npeasants. Seven, also, was the original number of the Hereditary\nElectors of the Empire. Three spiritual Princes, the Archbishops of\nMayence, Cologne, and Treves, as chancellors, respectively of the\nEmpire, of Burgundy, and of Italy. Four temporal Electors: the Prince\nPalatine of the Rhine, who, as grand-carver, carried the imperial\napple at the coronation; the Duke of Saxony Wittemberg, who, as\nmarshal, carried the sword; the Margrave of Brandenburg, who, as\ngrand-chamberlain, bore the scepter; and the King of Bohemia, who, as\ncupbearer, presented the cup. The election of the Emperor was held at\nFrankfort-on-the-Maine; the coronation at Aix; and the new Emperor held\nhis first diet at Nuremberg.--_Trans._\n\n[58] 2 Tim., iv., 7.\n\n[59] The words in the bracket are not in the original. As a loyal\npriest of a true branch of that Church which is built on the foundation\nof the Apostles, the translator could not help to give currency to such\na misrepresentation of it. Henry VIII. can stand on his own merits, or,\nrather, demerits. It seems, however, to be what Schlegel would call\nan historical retribution, that the universal supremacy claimed by\nthe bishops of Rome, as it was confirmed by a Phocas, should be first\nshaken by a Henry VIII.--_Trans._\n\n[60] Pius VII.\n\n[61] _Cshatriyas._ (See \u201cPhilosophy of History,\u201d p. 146.)\n\n[62] See Philosophy of Life, p. 25.\n\n[63] See quotation from the \u201cDie Kunstlehre\u201d of Schiller, \u201cPhilosophy\nof Life,\u201d p. 25.\n\n[64] Alexander von Humboldt.\n\n[65] The passages thus indicated were marked by Schlegel himself for\nrevision.\n\n[66] Shakspeare. Hamlet, Act i., Scene v.\n\n[67] Philosophy of Life, p. 113.\n\n[68] St. James, c. ii., v. 5.\n\n[69] In the original the three terms are--Gewissen, Wissen, and\nGewissheit.\n\n[70] The three primary vowels, according to Bopp and Grimm, are _a_,\n_i_, _u_, _e_ and _o_ being dipthongal compounds of _ai_ and _ao_\nrespectively. The former appears from a comparison between the Greek\n\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1, Latin _sph\u00e6ra_, and our _sphere_; or, again,\nfrom \u039c\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9, Mus\u00e6, pronounced by us Mus\u0101; or from the\nIonic form \u03b7\u03c2, of dat. plur. \u03b1\u03b9\u03c2. To prove that _au_ gives _o_, it will\nbe sufficient from many instances to give one:--the Latin _pauci_,\nin the Spanish and Italian dialects of the Romance is _poco_.\n\nThe simple alphabet of ten elementary sounds may stand thus:--\n\n  Three vowels        a, i, u.\n  Three consonants    p, t, k, or b, d, g in the mediate form, given as by\n    Schlegel.\n  Three liquids       l, n, r.\n  Sibilant            s.--_Trans._\n\n\n[71] On the Hebrew alphabet, see Latham\u2019s \u201cThe English Language,\u201d p.\n184.--_Trans._\n\n[72]\n\n    \u201cDie Zeit hat Glauben nicht, noch Liebe;\n     Wo w\u00e4re dann die Hoffnung die ihr bleibe?\u201d\n\n\n[73] The philosophy of Schelling professed to be a system of identity,\nand had for its basis the principle of the sameness of subject and\nobject.--See Philosophy of Life, note, p. 20.--_Trans._\n\n[74] Schlegel is here again alluding to the philosophy of\nSchelling.--_Trans._\n\n[75] Our language can not give the etymological connection of the\nthoughts in this sentence. The original is: Die zweyte w\u00e4re dann\nein _Empfinden_, n\u00e4mlich das volle gewisse _In_ sich _finden_ einer\nWahrehit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTypographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:\n\nthese rerespects=> these respects {pg 12}\n\ngenuiue longing=> genuine longing {pg 39}\n\nhowever often and painsfully=> however often and painfully {pg 80}\n\nthe the whole human race=> the whole human race {pg 116}\n\nthere will over remain=> there will ever remain {pg 118}\n\nthe world out of _eunui_=> the world out of _ennui_ {pg 128}\n\npride and siffneckedness=> pride and stiffneckedness {pg 207}\n\nthat can can extricate=> that can extricate {pg 227}\n\nnumbered=> numberbered {pg 244}\n\nbetwen the imperial and the=> between the imperial and the {pg 279}\n\nfrom beginnind to end; into a gespotism=> from beginning to end; into a\ndespotism {pg 298}\n\nextremly=> extremely {pg 298}\n\nmamely=> namely {pg 323}\n\ncharacteristies=> characteristics {pg 323}\n\nsome higher impluse=> some higher impulse {pg 328}\n\nexternal realtions=> external relations {pg 345}\n\npassed though the first=> passed through the first {pg 350}\n\nconfusion of lanage=> confusion of language {pg 355}\n\nnecessarrily=> necessarily {pg 367}\n\nexplaning=> explaining {pg 385}\n\nSancrit=> Sanscrit {pg 389}\n\nadopted thoughout Asia=> adopted throughout Asia {pg 390}\n\nconsidered perfecly deaf=> considered perfectly deaf {pg 435}\n\ndie ihr blebe=> die ihr bleibe {pg 457 note}\n\nscienitfic imagination=> scientific imagination {pg 491}\n\ndeficiences=> deficiencies {pg 499}\n\nif the term be perferred=> if the term be prerferred {pg 504}\n\nmaterialzing system=> materializing system {pg 521}\n\npatience esssential to the pursuit of, 199.=> patience essential to the\npursuit of, 199. {pg 549}","title":"The philosophy of life, and philosophy of language, in a course of lectures","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":228184}