__________________________________________________________________ Title: The Theology of Schleiermacher: A Condensed Presentation of His Chief Work, "The Christian Faith" Creator(s): Cross, George, (1862-1929) Print Basis: The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, Illinois (1911) CCEL Subjects: All; Theology __________________________________________________________________ THE THEOLOGY OF SCHLEIERMACHER A CONDENSED PRESENTATION OF HIS CHIEF WORK, "THE CHRISTIAN FAITH" BY GEORGE CROSS, PH.D., D.D Professor of Christian Theology in the Newton Theological Institution Newton Center, Mass. THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS CHICAGO, ILLINOIS THE UNIVERSITY OP CHICAGO PRESS CHICAGO, ILLINOIS Agents THE BAKER & TAYLOR COMPANY NEW YORK __________________________________________________________________ CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON AND EDINBURGH COPYRIGHT 1911 BY THE UNIVERSITY or CHICAGO __________________________________________________________________ All Rights Reserved __________________________________________________________________ Published May 1911 Composed and Printed By The University of Chicago Press Chicago. Illinois, U.S.A. __________________________________________________________________ DEDICATED TO THE RISING CHRISTIAN MINISTRY OF MY NATIVE COUNTRY __________________________________________________________________ PREFACE More than three-quarters of a century ago Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher gave to the world his Christian Faith. This great theological treatise was the work of a man who, to the natural endowment of a rich emotional temperament and an intellect of unusual power, had added the culture that comes from a comprehensive acquaintance with the world's leading thinkers and a varied experience in literary, political, and religious affairs. His Glaubenslehre, as the work is commonly called, represents his mature thought on the most important of subjects. No modern treatment of the questions raised by the religious life has surpassed it, or perhaps even equaled it, in respect to influence exercised on the course of religious thought. Schleiermacher was the first Protestant theologian to grasp clearly the significance of the new situation created by the evangelical revival of the eighteenth century and the contemporary movement of thought that came to violent expression in the French Revolution. He represents a turning-point in the history of Christendom. Modern theological reconstruction begins with him. Theology has usually been slow to acknowledge the impact of new forces in the spiritual life. This may partly account for the comparative neglect of Schleiermacher by English-speaking theologians. German theologians of all shades of opinion have long been quarrying materials for their own structures from the bedrock of his thought. But his influence has been mainly mediated to other countries through the Ritschlian school. There is very little first-hand knowledge of him among us. Excepting Bishop Thirwall's translation of his Luke (now out of print, I think), Farrer's translation of his Outlines of the Study of Theology, Oman's translation of the Discourses (Reden), and W. Robertson Nicoll's Selected Sermons, all that we have about him for the English reader is a few cyclopaedia and magazine articles. Der christliche Glaube has never been translated, though a desire for a translation has often been expressed. The present work is a modest attempt to remedy to some extent this want. It makes no claim to a mastery of the great thinker's whole system of thought, but represents the standpoint of an interested student and admirer. Its purpose is twofold: first, by indicating the historical setting of Schleiermacher's theology, to cast some light on the origin of certain urgent problems of the present day; in the next place, by exhibiting Schleiermacher's views of the traditional Christian doctrines and his constructive method, to suggest lines of reflection that may be of value to the rising generation of students of theology. The sketch of his life offered in the Introduction is drawn mainly from his published correspondence and directs attention to the experiential basis of his doctrine--indispensable to a clear grasp of it. The outline of the course of Protestant life and thought from the Reformation to the end of the eighteenth century sets forth the religious and intellectual conditions that constituted Schleiermacher's problem and summoned him to his task. The central portion of the book is a careful condensation of the Christian Faith. I used the edition of 1889 (Gotha: Friedrich Andreas Perthes). Some of the difficulties attendant on an effort of this kind may be gathered from the fact that the original work in the German covers about 1,200 pages. The ramifications of Schleiermacher's discussions are very extended and apt to confuse the reader and the more so since many of his sentences are of inordinate length. I have tried to follow closely the main thread of his argument without, on the one hand, reducing it to the limits of a mere outline or, on the other hand, failing to exhibit the full sweep of his thought. I believe my statement is in accord with the spirit of Schleiermacher's work and will place the careful reader in possession of a clear understanding of its contents. The brief estimate which closes this work is in tended to suggest lines of criticism and to point out the direction which, in the writer's judgment, a constructive theology must now take if it is to meet the needs of our times. I wish to express my sense of obligation to Rev. E. P. Tuller, Ph.D., for his kindness in reading the proof of this work and for many valuable suggestions. GEORGE CROSS NEWTON CENTRE, MASS. March 15, 1911 __________________________________________________________________ TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE I. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION 3-113 A. A Sketch of Schleiermacher's Life 3-66 B. Schleiermacher's Relation to Earlier Protestantism 67-113 II. PRESENTATION OF "THE CHRISTIAN FAITH" 117-293 Introduction (1-31) 117 Chapter I: Explanation of Dogmatics (§§2-19) 118-143 Chapter II: The Method of Dogmatics (§§20-31) 144-293 I. Unfolding of the Religious Self-Consciousness(§§32-61) 153-174 II. The Antithesis in the Religious Self-Consciousness (§§62-169) 174-293 1. Unfolding of the Consciousness of Sin (§§65-84) 177-193 2. Unfolding of the Consciousness of Grace (§§86-169) 194-293 III. AN ESTIMATE 297-334 WORKS OF REFERENCE 335-337 INDEX 341~344 __________________________________________________________________ I. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION __________________________________________________________________ I. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION A. A SKETCH OF SCHLEIERMACHER'S LIFE Friedrich Daniel. Ernst Schleiermacher was born at Breslau, in Upper Lusatia, Prussia, on November 21, 1763, and died in Berlin on February 12, 1834. His life coincides with a period that is the most eventful in European history excepting, possibly, the age of the Protestant Reformation. It was a time of popular convulsions and general unrest. Revolution was in progress in economics, politics, society, and religion. The inevitable temporary and partial reaction followed. Next to France, of all the countries in Europe, Prussia was the most deeply affected by these movements. Allowing for brief intervals of absence, Schleiermacher's whole life was spent within the borders of his native country and the greater part of his public career was occupied in her service at the capital, Berlin, in connection with its new and now famous university. His sensitive temperament and his broad sympathy enabled him to feel every pulse-beat of the life around him. His wide knowledge and liberal education fitted him to become one of the best interpreters of the European world of that day. As a religious man and a thinker he becomes a sort of reflex of its most potent ideas. PARENTS AND FAMILY Schleiermacher belonged to a family of preachers on both sides of the house, His father was chaplain, of the Reformed church (the name given to the Calvinistic Protestants of the continent) to a Prussian regiment of soldiers. His mother was a daughter of Royal Chaplain Stubenrauch and sister to Professor Stubenrauch, of the University of Halle. The family were poor, but intelligent and pious. The father's early theological studies led him in his twenty-fourth year to inward renunciation of Calvinism, though, perhaps for prudential reasons, he made no outward sign of it. In a letter written to his son many years later he admits having preached orthodoxy without actually believing it. He was a Freemason and a keen student of philosophy in his young manhood, and in respect to religious opinions he was only one out of a multitude of preachers in Protestant Europe who at that time conformed in their public ministrations to established doctrine but in their hearts held a rationalistic view that true religion and essential Christianity consisted in the belief in God, virtue, arid immortality. Strangely enough his experience was partly duplicated for a time in his son. The mother was a noble-minded woman, of an ardent temperament, devoted to the care of her three children, strict and even severe in discipline, and prayerful. In the father's continual absence from home the burden of their training fell to her lot. She took a great interest in their studies, observed the development of their mental characteristics and their moral tendencies with much solicitude, and exercised a close supervision of their reading. So far as spiritual preferences are concerned she seemed to hold with her husband that a straight morality is the one important thing. But in 1778 the father, being then fifty-one years of age, experienced an inward change. His regiment was quartered at that time at Gnadenfrei in Silesia. There he came into contact with the Moravian Brethren. This much-persecuted sect, whose origin dates back to the times of John Huss, had long maintained a precarious existence in Bohemia and Moravia, and at length a portion of them, under the leadership of Christian David, sought a refuge in Saxony. Count Zinzendorf gave them an asylum on his estate at Berthelsdorf and later became a prominent leader. This new home they named Herrnhut ("Watch of the Lord"). [1] From this center they spread into other communities. At the time above referred to Gnadenfrei was one of their chief centers. Through one of the Brethren, named von Bruiningk, Chaplain Schleiermacher became a convert to their views and believed himself a subject of that supernatural grace on which they laid so much stress. Henceforth all was changed. He became anxious for the conversion of his wife and children. His efforts were rewarded by the wife's finally hearty, though at first hesitating, response to her husband's new attitude of mind. Henceforward both endeavored to instil the same religious experience into the minds of their children, all three of whom ultimately entered the community of the Brethren. It is worth noting here that the father never became a member of the Brethren's church, and years later, when the elder son renounced his father's views, the latter himself gradually receded from the Herrnhuterite position, though he retained to the end of his life their faith in Christ and a deep regard for those who had mediated that faith to him. HIS BOYHOOD We now turn more particularly to the career of his more famous son. Friedrich, or Fritz as he was usually called at home, was the junior of his sister Lotte and the senior of his brother Carl. He was an unusually bright child, and in his early school days made such rapid progress in his studies and showed such a disposition to pry into difficult subjects that his mother became alarmed at what seemed his pride and conceit. When only ten years of age, according to his own testimony, his mind was greatly distressed with the thought of the eternal happiness and woe of men, and many sleepless nights were spent in seeking some solution of the relation of the sufferings of Christ to the punishment of human sin. The attempt to indoctrinate the boy in such matters evidently brought only confusion and pain to his sensitive nature. The mother's conversion to Moravianism introduced a new and powerful religious influence into the home, but this only increased his unhappiness The attempt to reproduce in himself that sense of utter sinfulness and that experience of miraculous change which was demanded as the inward response to the orthodox teachings, was for a long time fruitless. The Moravian profession of a conscious soul-inter course with Jesus prompted him to longings and strivings which for years remained unsatisfied. The mother saw in all this an answer to her prayers, but when he besought her for help she could only tell him to pray to Jesus for the gift he sought. It is evident that the boy's mind was overwrought and his spiritual development abnormal, but at the same time it is clear that he was possessed of a nature wonder fully endowed and capable of high religious attainment. The family moved to Pless in Upper Alsatia in the year 1778 and the year after to Anhalt, where they remained till the summer of 1780. That year Fritz attended a boarding-school at Pless. While there he came under the influence of Ernesti, the famous exegete and advocate of the grammatico-historical method of Scripture-interpretation, whose enthusiasm awakened in the boy the desire for a scholastic career and a love for the ancient classics. The rich fruit of this appeared in later years in Schleiermacher's splendid translation of Plato's Dialogues and his deep acquaintance with Greek philosophy. During those years there came over him "a strange skepticism," as he calls it. It consisted in a suspicion that the whole of what was contained in ancient history was unreal, because he knew nothing of the proofs of the genuineness of the events mentioned in the literature of those far-off times and because the accounts themselves seemed disjointed and fanciful. Though much troubled by these doubts he kept them to himself. The death of Ernesti in 1781 led to his return to his father's house. Here with no experienced teacher to direct his studies he developed that tendency, after ward deplored by him, to follow his own choice of books and subjects rather than those more regular academic courses which are based on long scholastic experience. At the same time these were days of spiritual profit. At Anhalt and at Gnadenfrei, whither the family soon removed, he saw a good deal of his father and they often talked together of religious matters. Long afterward, in 1802, when on a visit at Gnadenfrei, he wrote his friend Reimer of those happy days. [2] He recalls a walk in company with his father when there came to him the feeling that he was a subject of divine grace and he began to entertain the hope that he had entered on a higher life: Here it was that there came to me for the first time the consciousness of man's relation to a higher world . . . . Here it was that mystical temperament was developed which has been of so much worth to me and which through all the storms of skepticism has supported and preserved me. Then it was only in germ, now it has attained to full development, and I can say that, after all that I have passed through, I have become a Herrnhuter again--only of a higher order [italics mine]. He is not unmindful of certain dangers attendant on such an experience: Here were laid the germs of an imaginativeness in matters of religion, which, had I been of a more ardent temperament, would probably have made me a visionary, but to which I am nevertheless indebted for many a precious experience, and which is the reason that, while in most people the disposition of the mind is formed unconsciously by theory and observation, in my case, it bears the impress, and is the conscious product, of my own mental history. [3] In those days, however, he was still tossed about by the fear lest all these experiences might be only from himself, and his young soul was still harassed by the questionings which had troubled him before. He began to share his father's dread of the effect of a contact with the dangerous tendencies toward irreligion and immorality in the larger schools then open to him, and when the father proposed to seek admission for him to a school of the Brethren at Niesky, known as the Paedagogium, he eagerly assented; for by this time he had made up his mind to join the Moravian society, cost what it might. Application was duly made in May, 1783. It was not easy to obtain admission, for first of all the casting of the lot, which the Brethren regarded as indicating, immediately the Savior's will, must result favorably, and the directors at Barby, which was at that time their educational headquarters, must approve. After a few weeks of waiting his desire was granted and he entered the Paedagogium in June. With this step the home life was brought to an end. He never saw his parents again, for his devoted mother died in the following December, and his father's path and his own began to run apart. HIS STUDENT LIFE The Paedagogium at Niesky was of the nature of a gymnasium or preparatory college for young men who wished to enter the Christian ministry, particularly the Moravian. At that time it enjoyed a wide, reputation. Among the students were members of aristocratic German families, children of absent missionaries, representatives of eastern German provinces, and youths from Switzerland, Holland, Denmark, and England. It was a student-cloister unlike any other, whether Protestant or Catholic. The entering students became members of a new family. The teachers held a sort of graded parental relation to them, and brotherly affection was the dominant feature of the mutual relations of all the inmates. The organization and administration of the institution were on the same lines as those of its prototype at Halle, where Zinzendorf was educated. Connection with the out side world was severed. The refining and ennobling influences of female society were excluded. A strict supervision was exercised over correspondence with relatives or friends. Incoming and outgoing letters were subjected to censorship. This may partly account for the fewness of Schleiermacher's letters which are preserved from this portion of his life. The instruction given to students was fairly broad. It aimed at breadth rather than learnedness in a single field, at a many-sided intellectual activity with some love for science, a keen appreciation of Latin and Greek literature, and some taste for the fine arts. Schleiermacher relates how he and his room-mate von Albertini--who held afterward for a long time a first place among the Brethren as scholar, preacher, and poet--ranged at will over the field of classic literature, and even tried to work up a knowledge of Semitics. At the same time the aim of the institution was mainly heart-culture. Coldness, hard-heartedness, lack of feeling were regarded as the worst faults, There was an attempt to play on the heart strings in a thousand ways. A developed phantasy, a powerful soul-life was the presupposition of religiosity. The culmination of the education given was found in soul-intercourse with the Savior, and to that end it was supposed to be necessary to exercise one's self in world-denial, to avoid the society of women, and any thing that might stimulate the lower affections. This meant, of course, that the works of many contemporary writers were sternly proscribed as being out of harmony with the views of the Brethren. Moreover, the greatest care was taken to impress students with the unquestionableness of Protestant orthodoxy, especially the doctrines of Christ's deity and his substitutionary sacrifice, of human depravity, miraculous grace, and future punishment. No effort was spared to give the students an inward attestation of the truth of these doctrines by the cultivation of a religious experience corresponding with the doctrinal teaching. This artificial devotion to mysticism stimulated doubts of the worth of this religious intercourse in the minds of some young men who hesitated to submit themselves to a compulsory divine service. At the same time the relations between teachers and students and of students with one another were characterized by a happy and wholesome intimacy. With hard study were combined the cultivation of an acquaintance with poetry and music and the enjoyment of birthday parties and other festivals. Religious meetings recurred with great frequency. The hymn-singing for which the Brethren were famous was a notable feature of these gatherings. In later years in -connection with his own conduct of public worship Schleiermacher used to contrast the dull monotonous liturgy of the state church with the lively, inspiring worship in Moravian congregations, and to express his thankfulness for what he had learned on this subject when he was among them. There can be no doubt as to the intentions of Schleiermacher's godly parents in sending him to this school. They admired the religious life of the Herrnhuters and they feared the rationalistic tendencies of the times. They were not unaware of the strength of the great movement of thought which was sweeping over Europe. European society was then stirred to its depths over many questions. Ideas and institutions hoary with age were subjected to the keenest and most unrelenting criticism, and particularly in the ecclesiastical and religious realm. The skepticism of Bolingbroke and Hume in England, of Voltaire and the Encyclopaedists in France, of Fredrick the Great and the "Illuminants" in Prussia, had delivered a fearful polemic against current orthodoxy and the church. Science and philosophy seemed to corroborate its arguments. Political institutions traditionally associated with established religion were threatened with a general overturn. The very codes of morality were being torn to shreds. The ominous rumblings of the approaching revolution in France were heard all over western and central Europe. The foundations of the great deep were breaking up, To Schleiermacher's parents the institutions of the Moravians seemed an ark of safety for their children, and especially for their gifted son. Mainly, perhaps, they were in the right. His sympathetic, sensitive spirit, united with a keen intelligence, might not have withstood at that time the unmediated shock of a fierce onset of rationalism. With his habit of introspection he might have been driven to a moody mysticism, or with his penetrating intellect to a blank skepticism. The immediate outcome was gratifying. At Niesky he yielded himself heartily to the surrounding religious influences. At the end of three months he was admitted by lot to membership in the society, to the great joy of his parents and his sister Lotte, who took a similar step about the same time. A period of religious, elevation ensued. His mother writes, in October, 1783, "Let us therefore, my dear son, cling firmly to him alone who is the faithful shepherd of our souls; let us give up our hearts entirely to him; let us pour out all our gifts to him; let us speak to his heart and pray daily to him to cast out and take away everything that tends to separate us from him." His eager participation in these sentiments appears in a letter to Lotte just then: "When I find that I do not love the Savior enough, that I do not sufficiently honor him; when the daily intercourse with him does not go on uninterruptedly, then I am distressed." And later: "The heart may feel the peace and love of Jesus, as I can assert from my own experience, thanks be to his mercy." By the advice of his spiritual guardian he became, in February, 1784, a candidate for admission to the Supper--for actual entrance within the circle of the reborn. The way in which he speaks of the prospect brings out his warmth of feeling, but at the same time the superstitious regard for the Supper, which Lutheranism and Moravianism inherited from Catholicism. "On Maundy-Thursday I am to partake of the Savior's flesh and blood in the Holy Supper." [4] The very sight of the celebration fills him with holy reverence. At this time he voices his feelings to his sister in such utterances as, "Ah, did but the love of Jesus fill our hearts day and night!" "Think of me and love thy Jesus." He speaks also of longings for the world beyond. There is nothing in his correspondence at this time to suggest that it is from the hand of a youth of sixteen. It is altogether unnatural and one is tempted to treat it as nothing better than mere sentimentalism. But it was very pleasing to his father and the Brethren. His Uncle Stubenrauch alone seems to have had some misgivings, and in a letter he gently cautions his nephew against the spirit of intolerance which the Moravians, with all their warmth of religious passion, shared with most Christians at the time. The letter includes an admonition against overlooking "the great amount of evil that has resulted through many centuries from the early established principle, Outside of the church, no salvation.'" His stay at the Paedagogium lasted two and a quarter years. In the autumn of 1785 he was promoted to the theological seminary at Barby. The conditions there were much the same as at Niesky. Every thing was arranged with a view to the promotion of religious development in the pietistic sense. The twenty-two students, divided into two equal sections, lived in the "choir-house" of the single brethren under one roof with their spiritual censor. Three religious meetings were held daily, and all must attend. No intercourse was allowed with outside families, the town pastors, or the town church. "Useless" and light reading material was supposed to be kept out. Modern philosophical and theological works--even Kant and Lavater--were banned. Yet there were fewer restrictions on liberty than at Niesky. Students found it quite possible to evade the rules about reading. Copies of leading liberal periodicals and of the works of such writers as Lessing, Kant, and Herder were surreptitiously obtained without difficulty by those who desired them. An acquaintance with a wider world of thought was sure to arouse in independent-minded young men doubts of the trustworthiness of what they had been taught. There was soon a rapid falling away. Some of the older students went so far as to play the part of free-thinkers among their young comrades. Schleiermacher soon came distinctly under the influence of this new spiritual atmosphere and the consequences were as might have been expected. A PERIOD OF SKEPTICISM When he first went to Barby he gave himself mostly to exegetical studies and followed the Herrnhuterite methods, He held distinctly to the Moravian faith and hoped to become one of the society's accepted laborers, though how or where he could not tell. But he soon turned to the study of philosophy. A philosophical club was formed among the students and he became an active member of it along with Albertini, his room-mate. The progress of his thought, at first glance, seems to have been startlingly rapid. Ernesti's influence was not dead. Those fine intellectual powers that showed their presence so early in life, and that had been so long subordinated to a sup posed religious interest, were now revived. That inquiring spirit, exhibited in the questionings of his schoolboy days, reasserted its claims. A change came over him. The rational understanding began to take precedence of the religious feeling. He felt suspicious of an orthodoxy that shunned an open battle with its foes. Suspicion developed into doubt and doubt into skepticism. He awoke as if from a dream. By the end of the second semester he had definitely rejected the orthodox system. The strain of this new situation soon became unbearable. He decided, though with much hesitancy, to unburden his mind to his father. The letters that passed between the father and the son on the subject have been so interesting to the present writer that extracts from them are given herewith in the hope that similarly they may interest the reader. The first intimation that a change was in progress was given in a letter to his father in July, 1786. He complains that his desire for a thorough study of theology has not been met by his teachers. Students are "kept within too narrow limits in point of reading. Except what we see in the scientific periodicals, we learn nothing about the objections, arguments, and discussions raised at the present day in regard to exegesis and dogmatics." A suspicion has been aroused in his mind that the objections of the "innovators" must be difficult to refute. In reply the father assures him that ignorance of the objections and criticisms of the innovators is no loss. "Keep out of the way of this tree of knowledge and of that dangerous love of profundity which would lure you to it. . . . . Besides, you do not intend to be a vain theologian but are preparing to equip yourself to bring souls to the Savior, and for that purpose you do not need all that vain knowledge." Then, as if half-divining the purpose so soon to be formed in the son's mind, he adds, "You cannot sufficiently thank your Savior for having brought you into the community of the Brethren where you can do so well without it." In lieu of modern scientific and philosophic studies he urges the young man to content himself with the Bible and certain edifying books whose theme is "the martyrdom of God . . . . who died on the cross for us." In January, 1787, six months after his first intimation of the intense struggle that had begun within him, he wrote that letter which announced to his astonished and bewildered parent the disappointment of all the hopes of former days. That faith which his father believed to be essential to salvation in the next world and tranquillity in this, is now lost to him. Here are his words: I cannot believe that he who called himself the Son of Man was. the true eternal God; I cannot believe that his death was a vicarious atonement because he never expressly said so him self; and I cannot believe it to have been necessary, because God, who evidently did not create men for perfection, but for the pursuit of it, cannot possibly intend to punish them eternally because they have not attained to it. He declares that it pains him to the depth of his soul to write as he has done; indeed, he has shrunk from it and has brought himself to do it at last only at the command of his superiors at college, to whom he had evidently communicated his thoughts. He has not abandoned utterly the hope of returning to the views of the Brethren, but that can never be if he remains at the seminary. He pleads to be permitted to go to Halle, where he could live under the guardianship of his uncle, Professor Stubenrauch, and pursue his investigations unhindered. He concludes: "In sorrow, dear father, I kiss your hands, and entreat you to look at everything from the most favorable side, and to consider well, and to bestow upon me in future also, as far as it is possible, that fatherly affection which is so indescribably valued by your distressed and most dutiful son." This letter gives evidence in every sentence of the clearest sincerity of purpose and earnestness of soul. Further, we must not do young Schleiermacher the injustice of charging him with youthful precipitancy in expressing himself as he did. He was only eighteen at the time, but he was far beyond most men of his years in maturity of judgment. In order to understand his radical expressions of doctrinal dissent we must keep in mind that the views of Zinzendorf were at that time generally accepted by the Brethren, and to them Jesus was virtually identical with God the Father (although they denied the charge of patripassionism), or perhaps we might say that Jesus had displaced God the Father in their minds. The substitutionary death of God on the cross--with a good deal of emphasis on the physical--was the very essence of the gospel. Schleiermacher knew that from his father's point of view, and from his own up to that time (and as yet he appeared to have found nothing to take its place), the rejection of that doctrine meant the renunciation of Christianity itself. But the letters which followed this first fateful message make it quite evident that the young man had not renounced his religion but was unable to make quite clear to himself or to others the distinction between religious faith and belief in a doctrine of religion. At this point I may be permitted to quote the words of W. Robertson Nicoll in reference to this event: [5] The letter . . . . is the farthest possible from resembling the utterance of some callow theologian who imagines that because an idea is new to him it is new to everybody else . . . . On the contrary its tone is throughout humble, self-distrustful, full of deepest regret for his lost faith and for the conclusions to which he felt, in the meantime, compelled to come; and full, even more, of reverential tenderness toward his father and bitterest sorrow for the pain which he is so unwillingly inflicting and which he tries to soften by the hope of a change by-and-by. The distracted father's reply is extremely painful reading. Pleading, rebuke, warning, counsel, and denunciation mingle. He breaks out: "O, thou insensate son! Who has deluded thee, that thou no longer obeyest the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ was pictured, and who now crucifiest him?" He charges the son's error to love of the world's honors, to wickedness, conceit, and pride of heart. Then he turns to answer the son's arguments, which he thinks a child could refute. At length, in exasperation, he goes so far as to declare, "With heart-rending grief I discard thee, for discard thee I must." But this is hardly intended literally, for the letter closes with an outburst of affection and the desired permission to go to Halle. One cannot help admiring the depth of affection and unswerving loyalty to his father and the unruffled patience which Schleiermacher exhibited in those trying weeks of excitement and suspense. In all his letters he addresses the disappointed parent, as "Tenderly beloved and best of fathers," or in similar terms. Ere the father's first reply can reach him, he writes another letter to mollify the wound his first letter made: Oh! how often have 1 wished that I had been less honest, and that I had not disclosed my thoughts to anyone, or at least that I had not sent off the letter to you. I should then have spared my good father all the pain and troublous consequences of this matter, the end of which God only knows. But it had to be done some time and now I am glad that I took courage. Most respectfully and yet most firmly in a later communication he defends his own sincerity throughout, and beseeches his father, "Do not look at every thing from the worst side; do not seek in my views everything exactly the reverse of what you think." And then, after modestly traversing the father's arguments, he quietly asserts that the father's refutation of his doubts has not convinced him. Still later he even attempts to revive the father's drooping faith in the persistent goodness and faithfulness of God: "Oh! that I could now already send you the joyful tidings of my conversion, instead of referring you to the future, begging you not to give up all hope. God, who is the Father of all, will watch over and guard me, and will direct everything for the best." He meekly receives the father's rebukes as to his faults, and says, "You have at once, dear father, put your finger on my most dangerous enemy--pride." A softening of the father's bitter feeling was one result and before long the tone of reproach in his letters dies away. The permission to go to Halle was granted none too soon, for the officials at Barby could not tolerate, such a heretic in their midst. He knew he "could reckon upon no pity, no mercy here, nor hope to be allowed to remain here." They had decided to turn him adrift. It is worth while in passing to notice that this great change in Schleiermacher had a lasting effect on the mind of the father himself. As he followed his son's career with fatherly interest and concern, his own earlier interest in philosophical and theological studies began to return and, whether for better or for worse, his Moravian sympathies were weakened and broader views found a place in his convictions. It can scarcely be disputed that the influence of Moravianism on the mind of Schleiermacher was permanently beneficial. To that, more than to any other single element in his character, he owes the peculiar, place he has won in the world. His experiences at Niesky and Barby may be regarded as having set for Schleiermacher the problem of his whole life, which, Lücke says, [6] was the "union without compromise of free science and Christian piety." If we may anticipate at this point the backward survey which naturally occurs when his whole career has been described, we can say that he was above all else a religious man and his religion was characterized by the warmth of feeling, love of brotherly fellowship, vivid realization of the nearness of God, and peculiar regard for the person of the Savior which is associated with Moravianism. At the same time it cannot be doubted that his separation from them was a distinct gain. Had he remained with them he could never have attained to that breadth of human sympathy, deep insight into the relation between the religious life and the common things of the world, and that intellectual wealth which made him one of the great forces in the modern religious and theological world. It was the defects of Moravianism that drove him out. The union of Herrnhuterite religious feeling with Calvinistic theology was rather forced. The correspondence effected between experience and the external authority of doctrine was artificial. There was, after all, a subtle legalism in it all. When a wider knowledge of human thought brought a new world into view, it was inevitable that his over-strained spirit should revolt and seek for freedom elsewhere. STUDIES AT HALLE Schleiermacher went to Halle in the spring of 1787 and remained there two years. He then accompanied his uncle to Drossen, where the latter had accepted a pastorate, and stayed with him a year. These three years represent an important period in our young theologian's spiritual development, for at this time he began to get his theological bearings. It is true that in his own opinion [7] he was seriously handicapped at the outset, for, as he says, he knew almost nothing of the outside world, was conscious of a great deficiency in suppleness of mind and outward polish, had been given a disparaging view of the moral character of his future comrades, was shy of company, and enervated by depressing circumstances. But on the other hand he was encouraged by his loving sister Lotte's unwavering confidence in him, by the many evidences of his father's growing desire to promote his studies, and, perhaps most of all, by the friendship and wise counsel of his considerate uncle. This thoughtful man had observed with interest and concern the change that had been taking place in his nephew's mind and had written to him letters which were full of sympathy but also contained an admonition to beware of precipitancy in his thinking. Now he took the young man into his own home and for these three years their thoughts freely mingled. Moreover, Schleiermacher's desire for an unrestricted study of the questions that distressed him was now realized. At Halle he entered upon a course of reading, continued for many years, which included in its scope almost all that was of high value in ancient philosophy and theology and the most famous writers of the age of the Reformation. Plato and Aristotle; the neo-Platonists; Origen and Augustine among the church Fathers; Luther, Melanchthon, and Calvin among the Reformers; Spinoza, Descartes, and Locke; and later, Lessing, Kant, Wolff, and Herder ultimately became food to the omnivorous appetite of this young; student and were made to contribute their quota to the makeup of his mature thought later on. His reading at Halle was not well connected and his thought was quite unorganized. He chose his own course of reading and paid rather indifferent attention to the regular class-work of the university. This course of action was regarded with disfavor by professors and students and was afterward regretted by himself. However, his state of mind at the time may have made inevitable the neglect of studies that did not seem to have the solution of his problem directly in view. One thing he did pursue with intense zeal--the history of human opinion, which is surely essential to a thorough grasp of theology. We know little of his religious experiences at this time, for the subject is rarely mentioned in his letters. He mentions at times the kind Providence of God and expressed his trust in the heavenly Father. That he felt he had some sort of Christian message to give to men is evident from his application in the spring of 1790 for ordination as a licentiate in the Reformed church, to his father's great satisfaction. In one of the father's letters of that spring, which deprecates on the one hand the trend of the new methods of Scripture exegesis and the tendency to abolish the Augsburg confession as a standard authority, and on the other hand the compulsory acceptance of orthodoxy, we come across the curious advice to the son to imitate his own example of an earlier unbelieving period of life in not attacking the orthodox faith concerning the person of Christ, but utilizing it in the cause of morality and of love to God and man. This respect he thought was due to the belief which had been a blessing to millions. The son seemed to have acquiesced. Their correspondence at this time evinces a deep mutual affection and respect and a desire to avoid any occasion of difference. But the uncle continues to exercise the greater influence, and Schleiermacher ever afterward treasured a grateful memory of those days of quiet intercourse with the man who helped him to attain to some definiteness and coherency of theological views and to lay hold of a purpose in life. EXPERIENCES AS TEACHER AND PREACHER The examination pro licentia was duly passed and he was ordained by Mr. Sack, chaplain in ordinary to the king. The same gentleman secured for him a tutorship in the family of Count Dohna of Schlobitten in Prussia. Here he remained for three years. The new experience was extremely profitable. Participation in the happy home life of a wealthy and cultured family brought him a new freedom and polish of manners. The work of teaching, visiting the sick people of the community, and, after a time, of occasional preaching brought home to him a deeper sense of responsibility and the consciousness of a mission. This, he declared, more than made up for the want of a library to read and of money to buy one. His sister Lotte's influence becomes very manifest at this time. Before she left her father's roof to live in the Moravian choir-house her father noticed what he playfully termed "the miserly idolatry" with which she brooded over Fritz's letters. This noble young woman followed her gifted brother's career with the most affectionate solicitude for his moral and spiritual well-being and proved more than once in times of danger a guardian angel to him. That he was conscious of making spiritual progress is evident from the occasional modest references he makes to his own inner state. For example, in a letter to his father he says, "I feel that I am becoming a better man." He has the love of preaching and of sermon-making. He writes more sermons than he preaches and many sermons that he never preached were delivered several times over in thought. Some of the subjects selected are significant, as, "On the Duties Imposed by the Certainty of a Resurrection"; "On the History of Thomas (the Apostle) and Rational Belief"; "On the Coming of Christ as Putting an End to the Nonage of Man." At this time also begins his personal acquaintance with the great leaders of German thought. In a letter to his father, written May 15, 1791, he speaks of spending at Königsburg "a half-hour with Mr. Kant and a few other professors." His stay with the Dohna family came to an end through his refusal, on account of personal convictions, to conform to the parents' ideas of education. He left Schlobitten in May, 1793. After four months again at Drossen he went to Berlin to teach in the Kornmesser Orphan Asylum. Here he also preached frequently, and a year later his desire to enter the regular pastorate was gratified by an appointment to a curacy at Landsberg on the Warthe. A letter from his sister in October, 1794, brought to him the news of his father's death. At that time he wrote to her: "Had I felt when I lost my mother that which I now experience in giving up my father, it would have been too much for a human heart." Then recalling the painful incident of his leaving Barby he says: There was a period, the remembrance of which now often forces itself upon me, during which I mistook the heart of our excellent father; when I thought he was too hard upon me and judged me falsely, because I was not of the same opinion as he. A certain coldness of feeling toward him, which arose in consequence, now seems to me the darkest spot in my existence. But in secret I have acknowledged my injustice, and he forgave me without my asking it. In this generous spirit he turns the blame for their trouble entirely upon himself. But when we search in this letter for some reference to the Christian assurance of immortality we are disappointed at finding nothing except "Peace! peace be with his ashes, and may his soul ever delight itself in his children!" It may be that he had special reasons for reticence on this great subject, especially in a communication to such an ardent Herrnhuter as his sister, but it is most likely that he conscientiously refrained from anything explicit on a subject on which he seems at the time to have had no very settled conviction. The next eight years of Schleiermacher's life, from 1796 to 1804, represent the period during which he emerged from semi-obscurity to a recognized place among the scholars of his native country and began to exercise an influence in her affairs. Till 1802 he was chaplain of the Charité Hospital in Berlin, and then for two years he was court preacher at Stolpe in Pomerania. In 1804 he removed to Halle. For the greater portion of this time his life-story may be drawn from his correspondence. His letters disappoint us, however, by their very scanty references to his work as a preacher, but they relate principally to literary efforts and his relations with a brilliant circle of friends among whom he found a warm place. His course, though mainly controlled by high ideals, was marked at times by a wavering moral judgment and would scarcely justify anticipations of that power and eminence to which he afterward attained. INFLUENCE OF NEW FRIENDSHIPS Shortly after coming to Berlin he became acquainted with the family of Dr. Marcus Herz. Dr. Herz was a Jewish physician of some distinction and a man of learning. His wife, a woman of unusual beauty united with splendid intellectual gifts and a fine culture, made their home a center of attraction to many men and women of good breeding and high literary attainment. The social gatherings at their home were characterized by intimate personal inter course and the free, informal discussion of those questions of science, philosophy, politics, literature, and religion in which educated people are commonly interested. Among the members of this social club were Friedrich Schlegel, Alexander and Wilhelm von Humboldt, Moritz, the elder and the younger Spalding, Nicolai, Reichhardt the composer, Schadow the sculptor, Count Christian Bernsdorff, the Danish-Prussian statesman Count Alexander von Schlobitten, eldest son of the Dohna family where Schleiermacher had been tutor (later he became minister of state in Prussia), Brinkmann, and Fessler. Of these talented men none excelled Schleiermacher in sparkling wit, quiet humor, keen penetration into the heart of every question, and power of deep reflection. With these qualities were united a warmth of personal feeling and a cherished regard for the ties of friendship that won for him the firm confidence and the admiration of men and women alike and soon made him the center of attraction to the company. His nature craved for sympathy and as freely gave it out. The unstinted measure in which he poured his affectionate regards upon his friends of both sexes sounds rather sentimental to the colder-hearted Anglo-Saxon and at times seems reprovable, but, as he said himself, such was his nature, there was no remedy for it, and if there were he should not wish to employ it. A less unselfish man would have been more guarded and sparing in his self-expression. Such a man was likely to find his most intimate acquaintances among women. His refined, delicately constructed, sensitive nature was best understood by them. This he was aware of, and at the same time he felt that he was a debtor to them principally for the most ennobling influences he had experienced. Once he wrote: "It is through the knowledge of the feminine heart and mind that I have learnt to know what real human worth is." But we are not to regard him as lacking in manliness, for the letters to his intimate women friends of those days, while not clear of emotional excess and some rather dull moralizing, are always characterized by a pure and deep respect for them and by the utterance of noble sentiments. His sister Lotte, whom he kept closely informed of all his experiences, from her cloister at Gnadenfrei viewed these intimacies with misgivings and wrote to him rather deprecatingly. In reply he went carefully over his whole course and assured her that all was well. But, though he was unconscious of it, she was partly right. At Mrs. Herz's he met Friedrich Schlegel, the Romanticist, and at once entered into friendly relations with him. With his customary exaggeration of a friend's good qualities fie was full of admiration for Schlegel's really powerful intellect and soon came to confide deeply in him. When at length they took up adjoining rooms in one house this intimacy increased. The consequences were of a mixed nature. Schlegel was probably the first to impart to Schleiermacher an incentive to high literary effort. It began in the form of contributions to the Athenaeum, a periodical edited by the brothers Schlegel. This was in 1798. During the next year he published anonymously the work that first brought him fame, Discourses on Religion to the Educated among Its Despisers, of which we shall speak again. He and Schlegel next began in collaboration a translation of Plato's Dialogues, but Schlegel, rather dishonorably, abandoned the work before it had gone far, and Schleiermacher, with his accustomed perseverance, completed the undertaking, though it involved many years of hard labor. This translation of Plato remains one of Schleiermacher's great literary monuments. So much to the credit of Schlegel's influence. But, on the other hand, some of Schleiermacher's friends viewed with disfavor his friendship for a man whose character was so opposite to his own, and not unreasonably; for the latter's morality was open to serious objection. Great was the astonishment of many when Schleiermacher wrote a defense of Schlegel's Lucinde, a work regarded as immoral. He claimed to find in this novel a higher meaning than appeared on the surface, but his comment appeared to his friends like a good sermon on a bad text. This cost him the loss of the favor of Sack, the influential court preacher. Notwithstanding Schleiermacher's error of judgment as to Schlegel's faults, we cannot but admire his unwillingness to turn away from a man simply because others did so. In the Studien und Kritiken of 1850 their correspondence on the subject is published and Schleiermacher's reply to Sack's reproaches brings out the essential nobility of his own soul. He wrote, in part: Never will I be the friend of a man of disreputable principles; but never either will I, out of fear of the world, with draw the consolations of my friendship from anyone who has innocently incurred its bann; never will I, on account of my profession, allow myself to be guided in my actions by the false appearances which determine others, instead of by the true nature of the circumstances. Were this maxim to be allowed sway, we ecclesiastics would be outlaws in the domain of sociability; for every calumny against a friend, provided it were invented with sufficient cleverness to secure belief, would banish us from his society. Far from submitting to this, the aim which I propose to myself is to lead a life uniformly blameless, that in time I may bring it so far, that no unfavorable light shall fall upon men on account of any undeserved evil repute in which my friends may stand; but that, on the contrary, my friendship may shed a favorable light on their reputation [Miss Rowan's translation]. Yet as time passed Schleiermacher became aware of the incompatibility between his temper and Schlegel's. In a letter of June, 1801, he speaks of "the utter dissimilarity of our sensitive natures," and adds presently, "Ever in my inmost soul [there are] secrets which I cannot impart to him." That year he found in a new friend, Pastor Ehrenfried von Willich, a man whose heart and mind accorded well with his own. Of him Schleiermacher wrote: "Von Willich has not Schlegel's deep comprehensive intellect, but he is in many respects nearer to my heart." From whatever cause, Schlegel and his influence gradually receded and gave place to this higher friendship. Years later Schlegel became a Roman Catholic. Schleiermacher's doctrinal views flowed so directly from his religious life and the latter was so largely affected by his friendships that it will be proper to refer at some length to an episode that constituted the only moral shadow that passed over his career, and that is fairly traceable, in a measure, to his association with Schlegel. The latter had married a Mrs. Dorothea Veit, a member of the club referred to above after she had secured a divorce from a husband with whom she had no fault to find, but whom she did not love. Schleiermacher came very near perpetrating a similar wrong, but under different conditions. At Mrs. Herz's he met Eleanore Grünow, the ill-matched wife of a Lutheran clergyman. Her husband was not only a coarse man, but, as Dilthey affirms, immoral. This lady communicated the fact of her unhappiness to Schleiermacher though, it seems, without mentioning the charge which Dilthey makes. In those days it was a custom in Prussia for parents to arrange marriages for their daughters without consulting their wishes. The law offered a recompense of equally doubtful character by permitting the divorce by mutual consent of persons who were unhappy in their union, even if no further cause of complaint existed. Schleiermacher's view of the primacy of the affections, perhaps unconsciously strengthened by his admiration for the lady, led him to view such an unloving union with horror. He considered it immoral in itself and properly to be dissolved. He advised Mrs. Grünow to obtain a divorce and, to secure her from want, offered to marry her himself. She promised, and then changed her mind. Schleiermacher's retirement to distant Stolpe in 1802 is said to have been occasioned by his desire to leave the matter to Mrs. Grünow herself. The correspondence went on at intervals for years and was closed by her decision to remain as she was. This experience brought Schleiermacher unspeakable misery and left him broken-hearted and broken in health. It was a bitter lesson he learned, but its sobering effect appeared in a saner view of ethical relations. Long years after his own marriage to a wife more worthy of him he met Mrs. Grünow in a large company and, taking her hand, he said, "Eleanore, God has been good to us both." The reason for adverting to such an unhappy episode in this good man's life is that it brings out some of the characteristics of his mind. In the first place it indicates a defect in his cast of thought--namely, an unsatisfactory view of the nature of the moral law. Not that Schleiermacher took an easy view of moral obligation so far as his own conduct is concerned, for no man ever forced himself more sternly to the doing of duty. But any system of thought which gives the primacy to the affectional, rather than the volitional side of human nature, is sure to intro duce moral confusion. However, except in respect to moral judgment, Schleiermacher appears to advantage in this whole affair. His independence of the conventional, merely as conventional, his utter transparency of purpose, and his uprightness of character appear in his whole correspondence in this connection. He mentioned the matter freely to his sister Lotte and to his intimate; friends, and made known his intentions to them. He could countenance nothing that was surreptitious. When Mrs. Grünow requested, after he had gone to Stolpe, that his letters be not addressed directly to her house, she promptly received a flat refusal, and the declaration that she would receive no more letters from him. When his hopes at length were blasted he poured out his grief as openly in letters to his friends. PUBLICATION OF THE "REDEN" A reader of Schleiermacher's letters written during these years would never suppose from the almost incidental references in his letters to his pastoral and pulpit work and his literary undertakings that he had come to be already a powerful force in the intellectual and religious life of Prussia and particularly Berlin. Yet such was the case. At the same time that he was cultivating those close personal friendships for which his nature craved and which he felt to be indispensable to any meaningful life for him, he was engaged in the preparation of literary works that were to have far-reaching consequences. In 1799 he published a book that was to usher in almost a revolution in the religious life of Prussia and to constitute a turning-point in the course of theological science. I refer to his Discourses on Religion to the Educated among Its Despisers. The "despisers" referred to are probably in the first instance the skeptical members of the club that met in the Herz parlors, but in a general way the whole school of rationalism. The argument of the book will be given in another connection in this present work. Here we may simply note that it was a defense of religion in general rather than of Christianity in particular, and claimed for religion a universal and necessary place in human experience, such as Kant claimed for the moral law. His words on this subject came to the reading public like a message from another world. Men felt in those dark days that a new prophet had arisen, and many of them awoke to a new interest in a reality which a specious moralism had concealed from them. Claus Harms, the great evangelist and missionary organizer, received from the Discourses the first impulse to his great movement. Neander, the great church historian, was brought by it out of Judaism to evangelical Christianity. It is considered to have played a part second to none in arousing the patriotism of Prussia for the struggle with Napoleon Bonaparte, because by it men apprehended the magnitude of the interests at stake. It is still being republished and translated, and modern scholars of note are still devoting time to the discussion of it. Oman [8] says: "It may be questioned whether, after Kant's Critique and Goethe's Wilhelm Meister, any book of the period has had such a lasting effect; there is certainly no question that it foreshadows the problems chiefly discussed among us today as is done by no other book of the time." The truth is that Schleiermacher had found no food for his soul in the rationalism into which he had passed on leaving the Moravians, and his Moravian faith was returning, though as yet it was tinged with romanticism. Romanticism with its canonization of the aesthetic sentiments is itself a poor substitute for rationalism, at least the higher rationalism. For the nobler types of the latter accord a dignity to the principles of morality and elevate human life above the play of mere feeling or passion. But after all mere ethics is not theology and mere morality is not religion. Man is a being possessed of something more than thought and will. He has emotions and these are often as safe a clue to character as mere will or mere intellect. Rationalism had neglected the claims of feeling, which religion cannot ignore. Romanticism was at least an assertion that feeling is a non-negligible factor in the estimate of human nature. It supplied to Schleiermacher a bridge by which he made the transition from a dry and insipid morality to a warm, religious experience, like that of his earlier years. The changes made in the second edition of the book, in 1806, showed that by this time he had come to a warm evangelical faith. But a greater influence than that of romanticism was at work within him. Before the book appeared there are evidences that his early experience among the Moravians was making itself felt. His religious spirit was awaking to new vigor and was reasserting its sway. His letters of 1789 seldom make mention of religious matters, but in a letter to his sister Lotte in August of that year he appears greatly interested and affected by her account of a recent visit to Herrnhut. He exclaims: "How often my mind reverts to Albertini and our common studies at Niesky!--the depths of his heart are still known to me." He had found no solace for his mind in that rationalistic view of religion which subordinated it to morality. His later antipathy to so-called natural religion comes out strongly in a letter written a few weeks before the publication of his Discourses. Some one had recommended a work of Hülsen's on religion. Schleiermacher objected, "But it is nature-religion, and I doubt, therefore, that it will produce much effect on me. My religion is so through and through heart-religion, that I have not room for any other." This is indeed Schleiermacher's secret. He had seen and felt too much of heart- religion to be permanently occupied with the dry platitudes of rationalism. He now yielded himself freely to the sway of his renewed Christian faith and endeavored to gain for it a rightful place in the world of thought. Not only so, but he felt it to be a part of his mission to free the church from bondage to a lifeless creed and the influence of religionless men. He felt this in the early part of his pastoral career, and even while undertaking extensive literary labors he found in preaching his loved vocation. He wrote to his sister, "Book-writing is a strange kind of activity, without life, without face-to-face encounter, without real use. Preaching is better." We find him near the close of his voluntary exile at Stolpe saying of a new circle of friends there, "How sweetly do we all cleave with the same religious feeling to the loving and informing Christ! Never since I left the Herrnhut congregation have I so rejoiced in my Christian feelings and in my Christian faith, nor have I ever beheld its living power so spread around me"; and again a little later, to von Willich, speaking of "the sweetest mystery of Christ and the church, how this is built up through his love, how it glorifies and exalts him; and how, through it, the whole world is born anew and sanctified." We feel that in these words it is a Moravian who speaks. But there is a difference. To their warm piety and deep religious feeling he united, on the one hand, a fearless and thorough pursuit of all that human learning could contribute to the solution of life's problems and, on the other, a participation in human affairs, from which the Moravians, with their semi-monastic piety, shrank. Yes, he was a Moravian again, but truly of a higher order. In addition to the Discourses he published, in 1800, his Monologues (a presentation of his philosophical views), considerable portions of his Plato, Two Impartial Judgments on Protestant Ecclesiastical Affairs, anonymously, and, in 1803, A Critical Inquiry into Existing Systems of Ethics, regarded by scholars as epoch-making. This last was composed while he was in wretched health and not expecting to live long. "This book," he writes, "is my gravestone." But though suffering much in mind and body he went on steadily with it, explaining his action by saying, "Just as a man ought to do nothing because of death, so also he ought to leave nothing undone because of death." However, the prospect of professorial work at the University of Wurzberg or at Halle, and later in Berlin, revived his spirits and his health. It was impossible that a man of his ability should long remain comparatively hidden, and in 1804 the government appointed him extraordinary professor at Halle, and preacher at the university, with the promise of a future appointment at Berlin, should a new university be founded there. It is significant of his theological position at the time and of his independence of judgment that one of the conditions on which he accepted the new position was that the difference between the Lutheran and Reformed confessions should be over looked, "lest my hands as a member of the Reformed church should be bound." PROFESSOR AND PREACHER AT HALLE Schleiermacher went to Halle in October, 1804. He did not find conditions there very satisfactory. His professorial work was of a rather varied nature and indefinite in range. We find him lecturing on Plato, philosophical ethics, introduction to the study of theology, fundamental Christian doctrines, and dogmatics, and delivering public exegetical lectures on the Epistle to the Galatians, and all within a single year. The delay and uncertainty as to his appointment to a regular professorship vexed him. Moreover, the arrangement for his preaching services at Halle were by no means to his liking. The stiffness and want of life in the liturgy he could not abide. His desires for a change in this respect were quickened by a visit to Barby in the spring of 1805, when he witnessed a Moravian Easter service. A letter written just after this visit sets forth his feelings at the time: There is not throughout Christendom in our day a form of public worship which expresses more worthily or awakens more thoroughly the spirit of true Christian piety than does that of the Herrnhut brotherhood. And while absorbed in heavenly faith and love I could not but deeply feel how far behind them w are in our church, where the poor sermon is everything and e\en this is hampered by meaningless restrictions, while, on the other hand, it is subject to every change in the times and is rarely animated by a true and living spirit. He hoped soon to transplant something of its nature into the services at Halle. He experienced on that occasion a renewal of the drawing toward the Moravian communion, and goes on to say, rather regretfully: They would not have refused me permission to partake of the Lord's Supper with the congregation, but I would not ask for what I knew to be contrary to rule. . . . . While dwelling on my loneliness in the world and my separation from those who, I believe, form the truest Christian communion which exists in the outward world, I consoled myself with the thought of the secret and scattered church to which we all belong and of the common spirit which animates it. He felt so dissatisfied with the state of things at Halle that in the spring of 1806 he was disposed to accept an invitation to the pastorate at Bremen, but by certain concessions was prevailed on to. remain. We might trace without difficulty, if space would permit, his struggle through the rest of his life against formal ism. A state-controlled church was a veritable prison to a liberty-loving spirit like his, that longed for a lofty flight. The dread of Separatism helped to keep him within it, but to the end of his days he battered his wings against the bars of his cage without much avail. While at Halle he met Goethe once or twice, but about the only thing he said of their interview was that they conversed together like old acquaintances. It is more important to note that he found there a kindred spirit in a Norwegian member of the faculty, Steffens by name. A warm friendship soon sprang up between them and continued through the vicissitudes through which central Europe was then passing. When the war with France broke out he and Steffens shared the same dangers, suffered the same losses, occupied portions of the same lodgings, and partook of the same scanty supply of food. Their friendship was based on religious sympathies. This is incidentally brought to our knowledge in a note Steffens makes of a little time they spent together in an inn at Ostrow: "Never did the deep religiosity of his nature strike me more favorably. The Savior was with us as he promised to be where two or three are gathered.'" The excellent opportunity Steffens enjoyed of observing Schleiermacher under a great variety of circumstances makes the following pen-portrait he gives of Schleiermacher in those days especially valuable: [9] Schleiermacher was small of stature and slightly deformed, but so slightly as hardly to be disfigured by it. His movements were quick and animated, his features highly expressive. A certain sharpness in his eye acted, perhaps, repulsively at times. He seemed, indeed, to look through everyone. . . . . His face was long, his features sharply defined, his lips firmly and severely closed, his chin prominent, his look always earnest, collected, and self-possessed. I saw him under various circumstances in life--deeply meditative and sportive, mild and fired with anger, moved by sorrow and joy--but ever an unalterable composure greater, mightier than every passing emotion, seemed to dominate his being. A slight expression of irony played round his features; the sincerest sympathy ever animated his heart; and an almost childish goodness shone through the outward calm. His constant presence of mind had sharpened his features in a remarkable degree. Even while engaged in the most animated conversation nothing escaped him. He saw everything that was passing around him and heard everything, even the most low-toned conversation. PATRIOTIC SERVICES But the progress of events was now opening for him a sphere of wider influence. Prussia was entering on her life-and-death struggle with Napoleon Bona parte, and in the storm and stress of those bitter days the preacher and lecturer became the Christian patriot. Prussia, led by her king and oligarchy, had played of late a rather unworthy part in the affairs of Europe. Her government had fawned on Napoleon, hoping to enjoy his favor and in alliance with him to hold her territory intact or make fresh accessions without cost to herself. That shrewd man, great in diplomacy as in the battlefield, had utilized her friendship temporarily for his own ends, but the time had now come to despoil her. His heavy exactions and the clamors of the people forced the Prussian government at length to declare war. But Napoleon crushed her like a snuffbox. At Auerstadt and Jena her power was broken, and from her surrendered capital the conqueror issued to the world his famous "Berlin decrees" against England. Schleiermacher had been by no means unobservant of European affairs or unconscious of the mean spirit of the Prussian government. He clearly foresaw the approaching troubles of -his country and a strong patriotic spirit rose within him. He felt that Prussian sentiments, mental culture, and religion were at stake. In the early stages of the French Revolution he had sympathized with the Democratic party in France, and when Louis XVI was beheaded he did not share in the common feeling of horror. But the infant French democracy had soon given place to a virtual autocracy; his own deep love of liberty and his intense national sentiment aroused in him a determination to fight for the salvation of his fatherland. At the same time he perceived that Prussia was ill-prepared to defend herself, principally on account of the chasm between her government and her people. With the eye of a true statesman he saw that a war for freedom must be carried on by king and nation together, "not by kings and their hired armies." Aware that the struggle on which the government was at length about to enter with Napoleon must ultimately promote the cause of freedom, he exclaims, "I exult in the war against the tyrant, which I think is now unavoidable." When disaster fell upon the Prussian arms and Halle was taken, his house was plundered by French soldiers. He and his half-sister Nanni, who had come to live with him, and the Steffens family were reduced to destitution. Only by the kindness of a French officer were they able to secure enough firewood to keep from freezing in the winter of 1806-7. The times were serious enough for him, but he writes jocosely of his experiences and his "potatoes and salt" diet. Napoleon closed for the time being the University of Halle, lest it should nourish patriotic feeling, and threatened to remove it. Its future was uncertain. If Halle should be turned over to Saxony, Schleiermacher would not remain in it, for the Saxons were such stiff Lutherans that he knew a member of the Reformed church could not be happy in the university. "If the town fall to the share of a French prince," he said, "I, for my part, will not abandon it, so long as there is anywhere a Prussian hole to which I can retire." He declined a second invitation to Bremen until he should be sure that the university was definitely closed. The upshot was that he severed his connection with the University of Halle, because it came under the authority of Jerome Bonaparte, the new king of Westphalia, and because he could not conscientiously obey the order to offer public prayer for the new king and queen or put himself in opposition to the German spirit. In the end of 1807 we find him delivering lectures in Berlin, whither he had removed in consequence of the Prussian government's declaration of its intention to found a university to take the place of Halle. His name was being talked of in connection with a professorship there. What his purpose was we may gather from a letter written to a friend about that time: One determination only I hold fast and that is, to follow the fortunes of my immediate fatherland, Prussia, as long as it continues to exist and does not prove itself quite unworthy of this resolve. Should it entirely succumb, then I will, as long as it is possible, seek the German fatherland wherever a Protestant can live and a German governs. It was this spirit animating the breasts of patriots like himself, which saved Prussia and ultimately raised her to the headship of modern Germany. THE DOMESTIC CIRCLE Before we follow farther the career of Schleiermacher during the Napoleonic wars, we must turn aside to notice certain domestic events. The friendship between him and Ehrenfried von Willich has already been mentioned. Begun in the summer of 1801, it deepened with time. When the young pastor married, his home became Schleiermacher's chief resort for the inspirations and consolations of human fellowship. Von Willich looked upon him as an elder brother, and the wife regarded him as a spiritual father. When their "Schleier," as they familiarly called him, came to see them, there was always a free mutual outpouring of joys and sorrows. The love of friends like these he described as "my highest good, without which neither the world nor anything in it would have the smallest value in my eyes." (We shall remember this when we come to the vital place he assigns to the Christian communion in his Glaubenslehre.) On the outbreak of the war von Willich was pastor at Stralsund. When the place was attacked he remained with his flock. A fever that became epidemic during the siege seized him and, in the be ginning of March, 1807, he died. The young widow, left with two infant children, writes a pathetic letter to Schleiermacher telling him the awful news. In her distress she beseeches him to give her some word of assurance that her husband was not lost to her altogether. The correspondence throws light on the state of Schleiermacher's mind at the time. She urges him to tell her his inmost convictions on the question of the future state and adds, instinctively, that she is not without consolation, that in the midst of her anguish she has the rapture of feeling that "love is eternal and that God cannot possibly destroy it, because God himself is love." She goes on to say, "I implore you, by all that you love and hold sacred, if you can, give me the certainty that I shall see him again, that I shall recognize him. . . . . Alas! it will be annihilation to me to lose this faith." It would seem that she had been led to fear that Schleiermacher held to some sort of pantheism, for she asks, "Do you know when I feel my grief most poignantly? When I think that in the future life there will be nothing left of the old, . . . . and when I think that his soul is merged in the great all . . . . that the past will not be recognized--that all is over--Oh, Schleier! this I can not bear." Schleiermacher's reply, though gentle and tender, is without the certainty of possessing definite information on the point that concerned her most. There is even a tone of rebuke, which we find echoed in his Glaubenslehre, because of the emphasis she had placed on physical existence and her desire that the future life should be, in a degree at least, a reduplication of the conditions of the present. He says a good deal about the "eternal order of things and the necessity of submitting tranquilly to it, but confesses that he cannot undertake to settle her doubts by confirming the certainty of the images of the phantasy, which, he thought, would be to prefer our own desires to God's own order. Yet, "There is the greatest certainty--and nothing would be certain if it were not so--that 1 for the soul there is no such thing as annihilation." But immediately upon this follows the disappointing assertion, "Personal life is not the essence of spiritual being; it is only an outward presentment thereof. How this is repeated we know not--we can form no conception of it, we can only form poetic visions." His idea of a merging in the great all was that it was not an unconscious condition, but "a living commingling--as the highest life." He seems to have in mind a future life of fellowship without the personal separateness and mutual exclusiveness of the present. The poetic visions we have of the future life he held to be of value because they are anticipations of reality, but he seemed to think that the precise nature of that future reality is nowhere disclosed to men. Mrs. von Willich thanked him for his helpful words, but it seems to the writer that her consolations were mainly drawn from her own spiritual intuitions. The correspondence continued. He finally visited Mrs. von Willich at her home on the island of Rügen and the personal interview resulted in a betrothal. In the year 1809, notwithstanding the extremely unsettled state of Prussia and the precariousness of Schleiermacher's means of livelihood, they were married. He took as much care of her children as if they were his own. To them in course of time five others were added--two girls and a boy of his, and two adopted children. He reveled in the love and joys of the home life and found in his wife a companion who, though much his junior, entered heartily into his deepest religious experiences and his many trying labors. PROFESSOR, PREACHER, AND PATRIOT IN BERLIN The much-talked-of university to be established in Berlin at last became a fact. Schleiermacher is considered to have had a powerful influence in its formation. Fichte was its rector, but Schleiermacher stood at the head of the faculty of theology, as Savigny at the head of that of jurisprudence, arid the organization of the theological studies and the spirit he introduced into them ushered in a new epoch. His Kurze Darstellung des theologischen Studiums, which was published at this time, exhibits his view of the nature and relations of the various theological sciences. This little book was a pathmaker in the proper apprehension of the subject, and an evidence of its great value is seen in the fact that it is still being studied and republished. For the first time the various theological disciplines were comprehended in their integrity by the determination of their organic relation to a single principle. Schleiermacher's views on the subject have been much criticized, but his great merit is beyond dispute. But Schleiermacher's activities in Berlin were by no means confined to the duties of his professorial position. He was incessant n\ multiform labors for the public good. Preaching, lecturing, writing, philanthropic work, participation in ecclesiastical and political affairs, his efforts in the reorganization of state educational institutions, and the instruction of youths went on together. Add to this his wide social relations, for his home be came one of the chief social centers in Berlin, and we get some idea of the extent of his capacity for work. At the same time we find here an explanation of the fact that his university lectures were never given that completeness and perfection of form which is desirable in order to a thorough knowledge of his views. To enter extensively into Schleiermacher's connection with the history of Prussia during the later Napoleonic wars would lead us very far afield. We must here content ourselves with a few brief references. The regeneration of Prussia was owing in no small degree to him. From a very early period in this great struggle he apprehended the immensity of the interests at stake and at the same time perceived the incapacity of the Prussian government. He saw that the power of the French movement lay in its popular basis, and felt that the hope of his own country lay in her people. They must be aroused to a realization of their rights and responsibilities. As he saw it, the safety of the German fatherland lay in German. Protestantism; the cause of Christianity and the cause of Protestantism were one. To him, therefore, the conflict with Napoleon was at bottom for the interests of true religion, and on that account, unlike Fichte, he flung himself into it with all his might. He was in close touch with the political leaders throughout and co-operated with them. After the peace of Tilsit, which left Prussia clinging to the skirts of Napoleon, the nation, stirred to indignation over its humiliation and the partition of its territories, began to rouse itself to action. A reformation was soon in progress. Schleiermacher boldly denounced the selfishness, the cowardice, and the want of faith in God which were the root of his country's shame, and summoned the people to repentance. While patriots like Stein and Scharnhorst aimed at placing the civil and military affairs of Prussia on a truly national basis, he wrought for the reawakening of the church. The French were not slow to recognize in him a dangerous man, and as early as 1808 one of his letters intimates that he had been arrested and brought before Marshal Davoust and had been rebuked by that officer as a hot-head and provoker of disorder. But his perfect composure during the interview thwarted the marshal's intention to keep him under restraint. He continued the good work of preparing his countrymen for that desperate grapple with the tyrant which he felt could not long be delayed. His sermons and his lectures pointed that way. His house became a resort for Prussian patriots. In one of his letters he notes incidentally that at the close of a lecture there was a meeting of the Defense Committee at his house. We find him in the autumn of 1811 traveling in Silesia on a political mission, evidently of a dangerous kind, but the exact nature of which is not clear. Between the years 1810 and 1813 his letters frequently express alarm over the country's prospects and a deep distrust of the character and ability of the royal government. After Napoleon's retreat from Moscow he urged strenuously that Prussia should identify herself with the common interests of Europe, and great was the rejoicing when her government broke the alliance with Napoleon and declared against him. We find a fine expression of his feelings in a sermon [10] on "A Nation's Duty in a War for Freedom," preached on March 28, 1813, from Jer. 17:5-8 and 18:7-10, on the occasion of the king's summons to the people to unite in the cause of the fatherland. He hails the change of policy as an evidence of a revived trust in God after a disgraceful submission to a foreign foe and as a renewal of their devotion to the divine purpose in the nation's life. He warned the people against personal ambition and selfishness and urged all classes to perform their part. On the calling out of the Landwehr ("militia") he was one of the first to enrol himself in a regiment and submitted to several hours' military drill daily. The nature of his influence at the time is vividly represented in Bishop Eilert's description (quoted by Lücke in Studien und Kritiken, 1850, and transl. by Miss Rowan) of a special occasion when a portion of the Landwehr made up of students of the university and the Gymnasium as a body requested Schleiermacher to preach and administer the sacrament to them just before their departure. At eight o'clock on the evening of May 13, 1813, they assembled in Holy Trinity Church, having piled their arms in and around the building. After having pronounced a short prayer, full of unction, Schleiermacher went up into the pulpit. There, in this holy place and at this solemn hour, stood the physically so small and insignificant man, his noble countenance beaming with intellect, and his clear, sonorous, penetrating voice ringing through the overflowing church. Speaking from his heart with pious enthusiasm his every word penetrated to the heart, and the clear, full, mighty stream of his eloquence carried everyone along with it. His bold, frank declaration of the causes of our fall, his severe denunciation of our actual defects, as evinced in the narrow-hearted spirit of caste, of proud aristocracy, and in the dead forms of bureaucratism, struck down like thunder and lightning, and the subsequent elevation of the heart to God on the wings of solemn devotion was like harp-tones from a higher world. The discourse proceeded in an uninterrupted stream, and every word was from the times and for the times. And when, at last, with the full fire of enthusiasm he addressed the noble youths already equipped for battle, and next turning to their mothers, the greater number of whom were present, he concluded with the words: "Blessed is she who has borne such a son; blessed is the bosom that has nourished such a babe," a thrill of deep emotion ran through the assembly, and, amid loud sobs and weeping, Schleiermacher pronounced the concluding Amen. Notwithstanding the suspense and terrible anxieties of those days, his life was a happy one because of the character of his family life and enrichment of his spiritual nature. For a time, during the war, he sent his family into Silesia, thinking it a safer place for them than Berlin was likely to be. Great was his alarm when that country itself became the theater of war, but happily they escaped all injury. During this time the letters between him and his wife are full of expressions of tender regard for each other and their children and at the same time of a calm trust in the grace and goodness of God. More and more we are impressed, as we study his career, that in the simple relations of everyday life more than anywhere else is to be seen the true greatness of this wonderful man. We shall see a reflection of this later in the theological view of the identity of the spheres of the natural and the supernatural. RELIGIOUS REACTION IN PRUSSIA At the conclusion of the war, notwithstanding his invaluable services to the cause of the country, Schleiermacher found himself in a difficult position. The overthrow of Napoleon was followed by a vigorous conservative reaction. As it has been said of the restored Bourbon house in France, they came back "having learned nothing and having forgotten nothing," so also it might almost be said of Frederick William of Prussia. His attitude is indicated by his participation with the emperors of Russia and Austria in the so-called Holy Alliance, which was simply a determined attempt to prevent the rise of freedom for the individual and of democracy in government. The king attempted to play the part of a Constantine or a Charlemagne by trying to bring the church as well as the state under direct royal control. Schleiermacher was by no means persona grata to him, for he could see that individualism in religion spells democracy in ecclesiastical and state affairs. He had promised a commission for the regulation of ecclesiastical matters, but, instead, he proceeded to trample under foot the spirit of religious liberty and the rights of the Reformed church by establishing a strict Lutheranism, even going so far as to issue a new liturgy, mostly of his own composition, compulsorily to be used. Schleiermacher spoke out manfully in opposition. He affirmed that if all that the Reformation did was to transfer the pope's power to the prince, then there was need of a new Reformation. In his Reflections (Gutachten über die für die Protestantische Kirche des Preussischen Staates einzurichtende Synodal-Verfassung), issued in 1817, he took the ground that just as in a free state constitution the power of the executive reposes on the active and willing co-operation of the citizens, so "the Protestant church consists, in truth, of the totality of the Protestant communities, and the clergy are only their servants." He advocated a church constitution based on congregational representation, with presbyteries and synods for the regulation of all matters of order and discipline. While he was an advocate of the (rather abortive) union of the Lutheran and Reformed churches of Prussia which took place in 1817, he opposed the proposal to issue a new creed, foreseeing that it must limit the freedom of the teacher and preacher and become a barrier to the progressive apprehension of evangelical truth. He held that the teacher must be fettered by no formulae, but only when he so departs from the spirit and truth of Christianity as to alienate from him the congregation to which he ministers is he to be dealt with by the church authorities. He perceived also that the king's policy must prove detrimental to Christianity by preventing the free critical study of the Scriptures, saying, "Purest faith and sharpest testing are one and the same, for no one that would believe what is divine should wish to believe deceptions, old or new, his own or other people's." Moreover his ingrained Moravianism appears in his determination to maintain freedom and spontaneity of public worship, in which the sermon and congregational singing should have a large place. The religious struggles of those times are reflected in his Glaubenslehre, or, to use the longer title, A Systematic Exposition of the Christian Faith according to the Principles of the Evangelical Church (Der Christliche Glaube nach den Grundsätsen der evangelischen Kirche in Zusammenhange dargestellt), which the present work is intended to expound. It was published in 1821 and 1822. Throughout this great book we may perceive the working of his profound conviction that creeds and all formal doctrines are only approximate and temporary expressions of religious experiences and must ever be subordinated thereto. He endeavors, on the one hand, to do justice to traditional and current dogmatical statements by bringing into relief the religious reality that lies be hind them and, on the other, to indicate the limitations of their worth. His differences with the civil authorities brought Schleiermacher into considerable controversy. His advocacy of congregational rights and of the freedom of the church from dictation by the state led the king to regard him as a secret republican and rendered his position insecure. His friend and brother-in-law, Arndt, was dismissed in 1817, and Schleiermacher's letters for many years later indicate that for a long time he expected the same treatment. But his immense hold on the public esteem proved a secure protection, and he was left undisturbed. His increasing years and his chronic poor health unfitted him to become leader of a popular movement for the liberation of the church, and at last, so far as the liturgy was concerned, a compromise was reached, Schleiermacher being left free to use it or not to use it as his conscience might decide. While the propagation of his views had, doubtless, been working for the liberation of the church in Germany, his compromise with the authorities postponed it. CHARACTERISTICS AS PROFESSOR AND PREACHER During all these years and up to the close of his life, Schleiermacher was carrying concurrently the work of his professorial chair and of his pulpit in Holy Trinity. Though continually accusing himself of laziness he was more abundant in labors than al most any other man of his day. At one point in the war, about the time of the battle of Leipsic, when all Berlin was full of excitement, he was the only professor who kept up his lectures. There have been more popular and able lecturers but his students were always numerous and enthusiastic. That his lectures were not written out in complete form need cause no surprise when we remember that he treated at one time or another every subject in the theological curriculum. However, what his lectures lacked in form and system was compensated for by their richness and suggestiveness. It will be generally acknowledged that Schleiermacher's pre-eminence as a theologian is principally due to the rich veins of thought which he only tapped and opened up for other and less comprehensive thinkers to explore. As a preacher he has had few, if any, superiors in Germany. Old Trinity church has become famous as the place where thousands felt the thrill of his warm, attractive personality and those stirring appeals that found their way into so many hearts. W. Robertson Nicoll quotes a German writer as saying that "thousands were won by him to the Savior." Many others received through him a deeper spiritual life. The subject-matter of his sermons and his theological writings were substantially the same, but of course the methods differed. The topics chosen were of very wide range, but those relating to personal experience predominated. His sermons were prepared in rather an extraordinary way. They were never written but were composed while his other work was in progress, or even in the midst of those social festivities which were such a common feature of his home life. He was often observed on a Saturday evening, when his home was filled with guests, to step aside from the company into some corner of the room and there, in a few moments, write some notes on the subject on which he had been ruminating, and this "brief" he carried into the pulpit on the following day. The final form of the discourse depended largely on the inspiration of the occasion. A striking characteristic of his delivery was the frequent occurrence of long, involved sentences which would fill a page or more of common octavo, but, though they were composed on the instant, his hearers never detected in them an instance of incorrect or defective grammatical construction. We are indebted to Miss Rowan for a translation of the following portion of Lücke's description ("Erinnerungen," etc., Stndien und Kritiken, 1834) of his delivery: Those who knew the secret [of his method of preparation] could follow the artistic structure of his discourse. They perceived how, at first, he spoke slowly and deliberately, somewhat in the ordinary tone of conversation, as if gathering and marshaling his thoughts; then, after a while, when he had, as it were, spread out and again drawn together the entire net of his thoughts, his words flowed faster, the discourse became more animated, and the nearer he drew to the encouraging or ad monishing peroration, the fuller and richer the stream. . . . . He had modes of expression peculiar to himself and also a sphere of thought peculiar to himself. But the richness of his mind and the fulness of Christian life in him never allowed any of the ordinary defects of extemporaneous preaching to be apparent in his sermons and caused one to contemplate with unalloyed pleasure his wonderful mastery of the homiletical art and the rich fruits it bore. . . . . It is true that he expected a good deal from his hearers, yet in reality no more than attention and familiarity with the Scriptures; and as he knew how to rivet the attention of the less educated by the freshness and vivacity of his mode of delivery and by the constant application of even the deepest ideas to practical life and to the actual conditions of the church, of family life, and of the fatherland, this explains how it was that, although his congregation mostly belonged to the educated classes, persons of the lower ranks and even be longing to other congregations were constantly seen in his church. I believe that this portion of his congregation steadily increased, for just as his whole system of theology was ever in living progression, so also the fervor and Christian simplicity of his mode of preaching increased year by year in proportion as his experience was enlarged and his inner life expanded. Considering his immense popularity it is astonishing to find how seldom in his correspondence he makes reference to this part of his work or gives us a hint of his influence. But we find a very interesting incidental remark in one of his letters to his wife: "Today I preached in the Cathedral with great fire and to my own satisfaction, which is by no means always the case." He also took great interest in improving the liturgical part of the service, especially the singing--thanks to his Moravian training--and, quite in harmony with his view of the nature of religion, favored a form of worship of high aesthetic quality. CLOSING YEARS One word more must be added concerning his family life. He paid the greatest attention to the education of his children, stepchildren, and adopted children. He shared their pranks and frolics and their holiday making and imparted his own freedom and spontaneity to their studies. In 1820 he was greatly elated over the birth of a son, and on that occasion writes, "My first prayer to God was to be inspired with wisdom and power from above to educate this child to his glory." This child inherited the religious precocity of his father and exhibited very early the influence of the peculiar Moravian attitude to Jesus of which deep traces still remained in Schleiermacher. It is related by Auberlen (Studien und Kritiken, 1860) that on one occasion when the boy was only four years old his father asked him: "Nathaniel, dost thou love me?" and the child replied, "Yes, I love thee, but I love the Savior still better." But his death when only nine years of age was so deeply felt by his father that he said it drove the nails into his own coffin. He himself pronounced the funeral oration and went on with his regular work that very day, but with a sore heart. He wrote to a friend wearily, "Life goes on in its old grooves, but more slowly and more heavily." It is said that from the time of this bereavement there was a greater depth of sympathy in his preaching, and that he spoke more persistently of the love of God in Christ. The death in 1831 of his elder sister, the faithful Lotte, who had come to live in his home after Nanni's marriage, was an added sorrow. He was not to survive her many years. In 1828 he made his first and only visit to England and preached at the opening of a German church at the Savoy. He noticed with wonderment the commerce and wealth of London. On a visit to St. Paul's he was disappointed with the worship and criticized the indifference with which the officiating minister conducted a funeral service which he attended. In 1831 evidence was given of the reconciliation between him and the king in the tardy recognition of his services to the nation by conferring on him the decoration of the Order of the Red Eagle. Two years later he visited Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. His fame had preceded him, and ovations met him everywhere, especially at the schools of learning. But long-continued suffering had undermined his strength and the end was near. A slight cold contracted in the middle of the winter of the next year developed into pneumonia and after a few days of suffering it terminated fatally. He died at his home in Berlin on February 12, 1834. The friends who were present often spoke of the deathbed scenes. Some of his utterances may be recorded here. At one time, just after recovering from the effects of laudanum, calling his wife to his bedside, he said, "I am, in fact, in a state between consciousness and unconsciousness, but inwardly I enjoy heavenly moments. I feel constrained to think the profoundest speculative thoughts and they are to me identical with the deepest religious feelings." Near the last, he said, "I have never clung to the dead letter, and we have the atoning death of Jesus Christ, his body, and his blood. I have ever believed, and still believe, that the Lord Jesus gave the communion in water and in wine." (The physician had forbidden him to use wine.) After receiving the assent of the friends present he added, "Then let us take the communion: the wine for you, the water for me. . . . . Let no one take offense at the form." Then he calmly gave to each the bread and wine with the usual words and, taking the bread and water for himself, said soliloquizingly: "On these words of the Scripture I rely; they are the foundation of my faith." After pronouncing the benediction he said to his wife, "In this love and communion we are and ever will remain united," and in a few moments expired. It is significant of his attitude in religion that his deep regard for the Supper and for the communion of believers appears at the very close of his life. The news of his death caused profound sorrow everywhere and was regarded as a national calamity. He was buried like a Prince of the country. Thirty-six of his students shared among them the honor of bearing his body to the cemetery. The carriages of the king and the crown prince led the long procession of mourners, shop-windows were closed, and thou sands of Berlin's weeping citizens lined the march. The sight was a tribute to his own simple greatness and at the same time a proof of that deep spiritual sympathy of the German people that has made so many of her university professors the teachers of the world. __________________________________________________________________ [1] These people have accepted various designations: The Unit as Fratrum or Unity of the Brethren, the Unity, the Bohemian Brethren, the Brethren, the Brethren's church, Moravian Brethren, the Moravian church. Many German writers use the name Herrnhuters. For a comprehensive history of the body to the year 1722 see The History of the Church Known as the Unitas Fratrum, by Edmund de Schweinitz. [2] See Meyer, Schleiermachers und C. S. von Brinkmanns Gang durch die Brudergemeine, 61; also Rowan, The Life and Letters of Schleiermacher, I, 6. [3] It will help us to understand Schleiermacher's theology if we remember that he believed he learned much of the nature of religion by observing attentively and calmly the process of his own inner life, and that he considered that from his earliest remembered religious experience to the end there was no internal revolution, but a development. [4] Meyer, 141. [5] Selected Sermons of Schleiermacher (biographical sketch), 6. [6] Erinnerungen von Schleiermacher: Studien und Kritiken 1834, 754. [7] Rowan, Autobiography, I, 12. [8] Discourses on Religion,' Introd., x. [9] Rowan, II, 27. [10] Selected Sermons of Schleiermacher, 67-82 (Biblical Library, edited by W. Robertson Nicoll; transl. by Mary F. Wilson). __________________________________________________________________ B. SCHLEIERMACHER'S RELATION TO EARLIER PROTESTANTISM Schleiermacher takes his stand as a theologian avowedly within the position of Protestantism. A subject of religious experiences on which the Protestant spirit is nourished, he was profoundly convinced that the hope of Christendom lay in the Protestant faith. His Glaubenslehre was intended to set forth the inner meaning and wealth of Protestant Christianity. A true apprehension of the nature of the Reformation and the modifications through which it had passed in three centuries is therefore essential to a due appreciation of Schleiermacher's views. A movement so complicated in its ramifications and so far-reaching in its effects cannot be adequately described in a mere sketch, and we shall attempt to outline only its chief features so far as they are related to our present study. CONSERVATIVE PROTESTANTISM Protestantism, like all other impressive phenomena in history, sprang out of the concurrent operation of many forms of human activity. Political, ecclesiastical, social, economic, moral, and religious influences combined to produce it; but, after allowing due weight to all these forces, the secret of the great revolution it wrought is to be found in a revival of the religious spirit. It had been quietly gathering momentum for four centuries. The rediscovery of the gospel and the Christ who gave it through multiplied translations of the Scriptures long current among the common people, the cultivation of the spirit of piety by dissenters, monks, and mystics, and the awakening of the modern conscience produced a powerful revulsion against the government, and the worship and the doctrines of the church of Rome. It was a spiritual revolution and, like all revolutions, it swept on by its own inherent force and wrought such results as astonished, and even alarmed, the very men who were at its head. Luther, Melanchthon, Zwingli, Cranmer, Calvin, Knox helped to make the Reformation, but even more they were made by it. They and their many fellow-laborers who organized it and gave it equipment for active resistance to the church of Rome secured a relative permanence to the forms which it then assumed, but it is now clear that in so doing they overlooked or even suppressed many of its most important elements. The Reformation as a religious movement was not produced by theologians and statesmen but by the idealist prophets and preachers who awakened the spiritual aptitudes of the people and stirred their wills to action. Such men were full of zeal, but they lacked the worldly wisdom that knows how to use human preferences and even selfishness in the interest of a higher end. In their very spirituality lay the chief danger to the cause they served. For the church of Rome, though somewhat inert at the time, was sure to arouse herself in time to crush the new movement unless it were supported from without. Moreover, radicalism was as much of a bugbear then as it is now, and radicals were plentiful in the days of the Reformation. Officialism was suspicious of the new movement as officialism always is of things new. The "governing classes" thought they discerned in it a kinship with certain social revolts that had often threatened the stability of existing authorities, and they were unwilling to countenance it except in so far as they saw in it a means of strengthening their own opposition to the claims of Rome. When the Reformers looked to them for support it was inevitable that the religious principles of the Reformation should be compromised. In every country where the Reformation was finally established it was done by means of the sup port of the state but it had to take such a form as the state was willing to tolerate, namely, a modified Catholicism. This is true in respect to ecclesiastical organization and ritual and not less in respect to doctrine. A glance at the creeds and confessions of faith put forth by the churches of the Reformation is sufficient to convince anyone of the importance attached to doctrinal statement by the Protestant parties. That correct doctrine is traditionally a matter of greater importance to Protestantism than to Catholicism needs no proof. To the latter, doctrine is indeed a matter of great concern, but it stands in a tributary relation to the higher interest, that of the church. To the Protestant truth is of supreme value. Its worth is in itself. The force of the Protestant polemic against the Roman church lay in its recognition of the absolute value of truth and righteousness in contrast with the shifty use of doctrine and ethics by Rome. The vigor of Protestantism is owing in no small degree to the profound conviction that salvation is dependent on the belief of true doctrine, but at the same time we are bound to say that its bigotry and intolerance are partly traceable to the same root. Under the circumstances it was natural that every Protestant state should have its formal creed and that an acceptance of it should be enforced on all its citizens. The true significance of the Protestant confessions is not to be apprehended apart from a comparison with the doctrines of the Catholic church on the one hand, and the views of the radicals, the Anabaptists, on the other. The additions made to the Catholic doctrines are rather meager. The substance, and some times the very statements, of the ancient Catholic creed, as set forth in the so-called Apostles' Creed, the Nicene Symbol, and the Chalcedonian Formula, are reaffirmed with vigor and their force is revived. Not only were the doctrines of the Trinity and the duality of natures in the person of Christ maintained against the Mariolatry and saint-worship of the Roman church, but they were used as the foundation of the doctrines of atonement and justification by faith. Thus the doctrines of the ancient Catholic church be came the base of the attack upon the teachings and practices of the mediaeval church. These doctrines were supported by references to the best of the earlier Catholic theologians and were drawn from the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments by the methods of exegesis then in vogue. The whole Protestant doctrinal movement bore the appearance of a protest in the interest of conservatism against the corruptions of the early faith by the Roman church. All the more, therefore, was it necessary to take up a firm and uncompromising attitude toward the innovations of the Anabaptists. Still more important, perhaps, was the Catholic habit of mind which was carried over into Protestant theology. The idea that Christianity is at bottom doctrine, that revelation consists in the external communication of doctrine, that it reposes on authority and miraculous attestation, that the Scriptures are an authoritative (the Protestants said, the only authoritative) legislation in matters of belief and practice; all these, as well as the method and the world-view of Catholic theologians, were taken over into Protestant orthodoxy. In saying this we do not aim to minimize the achievements of the early Protestant thinkers or the spiritual value of the great movement which they carried out. In their exegesis of Scripture they were greatly superior to their Catholic opponents; and in the deliverance of multitudes from moral thraldom by their impressive preaching of the atonement of Christ and the free justification of believers they were the ministers of a service of unspeakable worth to mankind; their devotion to their cause was of the heroic type; and yet the consciousness of the debt we owe to them must not blind us to the fact that much of their theological thinking was unmistakably of the Catholic type. PROTESTANTS AND ANABAPTISTS Their hatred of Romanism was not less marked than their dread of the radicals who were grouped together under the common appellation of Anabaptists. The opposition between them and the radicals shaded from a moderate difference of views of doctrine to the bitterest antagonism. They were as unsparing in their denunciation of the Anabaptists and as ready to subject them to imprisonment and death as were the Roman Catholics. Whether or not their fury may have been embittered by the latent feeling that the Anabaptists were carrying out their own principles to a logical conclusion we may not be sure, but it is clear that many of the Anabaptist contentions have been widely accepted by Protestant theologians in recent times. The term Anabaptist was given to these people by their opponents because they "rebaptized" those who came to them from the Catholic and Protestant churches. It covered bodies of "heretics" extremely diverse in character and opinions but at one in their belief of the worthlessness of the Catholic baptism. When we remember that Catholics universally, and Protestants generally, admitted that regeneration was effected in baptism and that the Protestants did not deny the validity of the Catholic baptism, we can understand how both of them saw in Anabaptism a radical rejection of the whole traditional system. This is the point of chief importance. For whether these people were mystics--such as Caspar Schwenkfeldt, the precursor of Quakerism--who subordinated the "outer word" of the Scriptures to the "inner word" of the heart; or children of the Renaissance--such as the Socini, the precursors of the eighteenth-century Rationalism--who emphasized the intellectual side of religion and rejected all mysticism; or men of the central group--such as Balthazar Hubmaier and his followers, the forerunners of the modern Baptists--who united with the recognition of the inwardness of true religion as a heart-experience a deep reverence for the Scriptures, especially the New Testament: their common rejection of infant baptism carried with it the renunciation of the whole Catholic system and, of course, that portion of it which was retained as authoritative by the Protestants. This was the head and front of their offending. Their demands were for a complete abandonment of Catholicism and a reinstitution of the churches of the primitive Christian times. Inasmuch as all the states of western Europe were professedly Christian, the Catholic baptism having been accepted everywhere, the radicalism of the Anabaptists was somewhat naturally interpreted as involving the disruption of all existing Christian governments. Nay, by their insistence on the prerogative of the individual, they often appeared to others in the light of anarchists. We see, therefore, that the practice of rebaptism which gave the Anabaptists their name was in itself a comparatively unimportant thing with them; its importance lies in its signification of deeper things. They held to the prerogative of the individual with God; the immediacy of the relation of the soul to God; the apprehension and ministration of the Christian gospel by the common man; personal obedience as the essence of Christian faith; Christian churches as free associations on the basis of a common spiritual experience; the spiritual equality and freedom of all believers. The practical issue of these views was the rejection of the entire Catholic conception of the church--apostolic succession a worthless figment, priestly mediation a vain pretense, the sacraments impotent and useless. Along with these went the negation of the church's authority, of the blindingness of its creed or its canon of Scripture, and of its right to call in the secular arm to support its teachings. It is plain that the Anabaptist principles were opposed not only to the Catholic church but to the program of the Reformers as well, and that they could be tolerated as little by one as by the other. In consequence these people were ruthlessly suppressed by both of these opposing parties and were finally almost exterminated. And yet, I have no doubt, they were the nearest representatives of the revived religious spirit that made the Reformation a possibility, and in the end Protestantism had to pay a heavy penalty for their suppression. Instead, then, of a radical reconstruction of the forms of Christian self-expression we see in Protestantism, as then established, a conservative reform. The idea of the Catholic church was retained, separatism was condemned, and the one church was supposedly continued in the various Protestant state churches. The church's sacraments were still maintained as necessary to salvation but they were reduced to two in number. Submission to external authority in religion was compulsorily enforced with respect both to creed and ritual. The Catholic canon of Scripture was adopted and exalted above the authority of the church that made it. Established Protestantism was a compromise. It represents an inconsistent combination of Catholicism with Christian radicalism. In nothing is this more evident than with respect to doctrine. The consciousness of the immediacy of human relationships with God, of the spiritual character of that relationship, and of the freedom that springs from it, was the moving impulse of the Reformation, but it was fettered by being bound to creeds that reposed on outworn scientific, philosophical, and ecclesiastical assumptions. Time brought the inevitable nemesis. The course of events by which the Protestant systems, and particularly the doctrinal systems, were undermined cannot be described here at length; the main facts alone can be mentioned. RESULTS OF THE COMPROMISE The identification of formal doctrine with Christian faith soon bore its natural fruit. The warm evangelicism of the early days of the Reformation gave place to theological controversy that was mostly barren of good. The effort to reach a minute determination of the limits of truth led to theological hair splitting and fruitless logomachies that threatened to tear both the Lutheran and the Calvinist churches to pieces. Controversies over the relation of faith to good works and of justification to sanctification, free will and the irresistibility of grace, election and reprobation, the nature and efficacy of the sacraments, have left their monuments in such documents as the Formula of Concord, the Lambeth Articles, and the Articles of the Synod of Dort. Lutheranism degenerated into Antinomianism, Arminianism sprang up as a reaction against Calvinism, while Socinianism alarmed orthodoxy in general. For generations the bitter strife went on. The evil condition of the churches was aggravated by the connection of church and state. Theological terms became the watchwords of political parties, and political discord was intensified by religious strife. We have only to recall the legislation in England against non-conformity and dissent from the time of Elizabeth to James II--and it was by no means a dead letter--and the civil wars of the Stuart days in order to understand the demoralizing effect of the Protestant establishment of religion by law. The attempt to make the boundaries of the church coextensive with the state was blighting, not merely in that it subjected ecclesiastical offices to party exigencies, but it became a serious bar to missionary effort abroad. While Catholic missions to the heathen were stretching over vast regions, Protestant foreign missions were virtually non-existent for three hundred years. The very assumption that all the in habitants of a country, having been baptized, were regenerated, benumbed the spirit of piety. Protestant ism enjoyed a good measure of success politically, but judged by religious standards it must be pronounced at that time largely a failure. THE INTELLECTUAL REVOLT IN ENGLAND We are here concerned mostly with the undermining of Protestant orthodoxy through the operation of forces resident within itself. Protestantism was, in part, an affirmation of the right of the human mind to freedom of thought. Its main polemic was naturally directed against the usurped authority of the Roman church and the papacy, but it was equally op posed in principle to many ideas and usages which it had inherited from the distant past but which were not discontinued by its leaders. It owes its very existence to the sense of the imperishable worth of the individual human spirit and its unimpeachable freedom of action. It was natural that the Reformation should let loose the pent-up energies of the western European mind. The buoyant consciousness of freedom that led men to explore new realms of earth and sky and to defy traditional ideas of geography and astronomy need not be expected to bow in submission to inherited ideas of religion. To bring to the bar of reason all the claims of church, creed, and scripture was more than a privilege--it was a duty. An inkling of what was in store for orthodoxy was given by the Socinians. Developing Calvin's view of the capacity of the human mind to discover the natural truths of religion for itself and denying the original depravity which he charged with vitiating the natural processes of the mind in matters of morality and religion, they proceeded to prove in a rationalistic way the divine origin of the Scriptures, with special emphasis on the New Testament, and went on to disprove the orthodox teachings as to the Trinity, the essential deity of Christ, foreordination, penal atonement, and the saving efficacy of the sacraments. Socinianism spread far in England and Germany and its influence was much felt as late as the eighteenth century. But it was superficial. The strength of the attack that shook the foundations of accepted doctrine came from developments in science and philosophy that were native to Protestantism and that continue in force to the present day, but with greatly augmented power. Two realms of exploration here call for special attention. Protestantism stands for the worth fulness and the sanctity of the natural. Nature may therefore be interrogated and may be trusted to reveal faith fully her secrets. The human mind may also be trusted not to mislead us if we attend to its natural processes. Both of these regions invited new exploration. The truth about Nature was to be found in Nature and the truth about the human mind was to be found in the human mind. Nay, since these are open to all mankind, might it not be that the basic truth of all truth was to be found there? The facts of objective nature and the facts of inner experience promised great rewards to the unprejudiced student. Might not "natural science" and "mental science," rather than external miraculous communications, be trusted to yield us the truth about the world and man? a) Bacon and Locke.--With the publication of Lord Francis Bacon's Novum Organum and John Locke's Essay concerning the Human Understanding there began in England a new movement that culminated in the attempt to bring the whole complex of facts in the universe within a unitary system of (natural) laws. The significant thing about both was the method. Bacon's work was aimed at displacing the traditional method of reaching objective knowledge by the acceptance of universal principles and the use of the syllogism, in favor of the method of induction by observation and experience. The product of the method as applied to the facts of Nature was a natural philosophy and a natural theology which a religious mind like Bacon's found to be the noblest utterance of the universe. Bacon's regard for Christianity as a revealed religion led him to an acknowledgment of a "supernatural theology" to which he assigned a separate realm and a different set of forces. If from this point we glance forward a hundred years to the time of the great Isaac Newton we shall see that with the establishment of his Principia the whole of man's being was regarded as under the control of natural laws and Nature itself as the revelation of the Supreme Being. The grandeur of this conception profoundly impressed noble minds like Newton and inspired much of the best thought and the finest preaching of the eighteenth century in England. The tendency, however, was to discredit the value and the claims of special revelation. The purpose of Locke's philosophical inquiry was to test the validity of our ideas by an examination of the manner in which we come into possession of them. The reality of our knowledge was to be decided by a critical examination of the knowing process. The individual mind was the realm of exploration and the means of discovery was introspection. Locke found that all our ideas arise originally or by combination from impression and reflection. This is the simple source of all those so-called "innate ideas," such as God and the World, on which the older philosophers and theologians had relied for the demonstration of their fundamental beliefs. Like Bacon, Locke sought to limit the application of his philosophy in the case of Christianity. He claimed that faith is distinct from reason and that in addition to natural propositions there are also supernatural propositions that supply truth for faith, and yet he held that all professed revelations are to be tested by the canons of reason. His words in this connection are worth quoting: Reason is natural revelation whereby the eternal Father of light and fountain of all knowledge communicates to mankind that portion of truth which he has laid within reach of their natural faculties; revelation is natural reason enlarged by a new set of discoveries communicated by God immediately, which reason vouches the truth of, by the testimony and proofs it gives that they come from God. He identified this supernatural religion with true Christianity and urged that the original Christianity was in harmony with natural religion. In this way Locke supplied to both the assailants and the defenders of orthodoxy their weapons. b) Deists and Apologists.--Some of the results of the investigations of these great thinkers were very different from what they had intended. The supreme reverence for the Christian religion that had prevented men like Bacon and Locke from drawing from their premises conclusions detrimental to Christian faith appears in lessening degree in the long line of their inferior successors, till in the later deists it entirely disappeared. The earlier deists, beginning with Lord Herbert of Cherbury, extolled the worth of "natural religion" and sought to identify the true Christianity with it, whereas in the course of the struggle the two came to be opposed. Here was the opportunity for the friends of Christianity to institute a frank inquiry into its essence, but unfortunately, discussion turned rather on the evidences of Christianity and the outcome of the long controversy was mostly negative. The apologists for the accepted forms of Christianity were much to blame for this result. They subscribed to natural religion on what seemed to them rational grounds, but when they sought to show that natural religion had been supplemented by supernatural revelation they were driven to say that the existence of sin had rendered natural religion insufficient for human need. This meant that revelation, as they understood it, was contingent on human conduct, which was tantamount to saying that it rested on an inferior basis. Then to prove that supplementary revelation had really been given they were forced to rely on the evidence of miracle (non-natural occurrence) and prophecy (non-natural knowledge), prediction. They were driven to try to prove the genuineness of the miracles and predictions in the Scriptures, which, in the state of knowledge at the time, they were as little capable of doing as their opponents were of the contrary. There was little more than mere assertion on the one side, answered by little more than mere denial, often accompanied by ridicule, on the other. The degeneration of the character of the controversies can be traced in the gradually lowered tone of the deistical attacks. There was a good deal of buffoonery and ribaldry on both sides. The later deists did not hesitate to ascribe the miracles, predictions, and institutions peculiar to Judaism or Christianity to superstition, fanaticism, or the scheming of interested priests. The issue of Deism is seen at its worst in France, where no warm evangelical piety appeared to put to shame the scoffing of Voltaire or the coarse materialism of De la Mettrie and Denis Diderot. The works of the deists were widely circulated in England and Germany and even in America. They were in accord with the prevailing temper of the times and the impression they made may be gauged by the efforts made to meet their arguments. It seems as if al most all the orthodox divines were drawn into the controversy. Toland's Christianity not Mysterious is said to have called forth one hundred and fifteen replies. Among the many famous names that may be mentioned are Samuel Clarke, Nathaniel Lardner, Bishop George Berkeley, William Warburton, John Leland, and Joseph Butler, bishop of Durham. The last of these is commonly regarded as the greatest of the English apologists and his Analogy of Natural and Revealed Religion is regarded as a masterpiece. I do not find in it any thing that had not been said by earlier apologists, but the succinctness and clearness of statement and the carefulness and orderly manner with which his arguments are marshaled have been rarely equaled. It is fair to treat this famous work, as a summary of the whole discussion from the orthodox standpoint. Natural and revealed religion are made mutually complementary. They differ in the mode of their communication of truth and partly also in their content. The study of Nature leads to the belief in the existence of God, rewards for well-doing and punishments for ill-doing, and a future life. While these beliefs cannot be established absolutely for our human minds but rest on a high degree of probability, they afford none the less a sufficient basis for moral obedience. But the truths of natural religion have been obscured and corrupted through moral error. Hence the need of a restatement of them that is accompanied by such external attestations as shall establish in the human mind a confidence in them. By this means also the corruptions of natural religion that have accrued in the course of human history are removed. This is what is accomplished by those extraordinary divine communications we call revelations. Christianity is this revealed religion and its truth is attested by miracle and prophecy. But while Christianity is thus a republication of the religion of Nature, it is more. It brings to men new truths, for example, the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation, with the implicated human obligations. The rejection of these truths of divine revelation involves a disregard of the implicated obligations and, consequently, belief in them is necessary in order to a truly moral character. The lack of absolute certainty in the case of revealed religion detracts no more from its value than the same lack does in the case of natural religion. The certainty is a moral certainty and involves moral obligation. As for any antecedent doubt touching the reality of prophecy and miracle, it is no greater than that which relates to any other definite fact before it is known. Thus revealed religion stands on as safe a basis as natural religion. Butler's statutory view of the Christian religion was the view commonly held; it is a Protestant inheritance from Catholicism and it partly accounts for the weakness of the orthodox defense. The apologists did not succeed in turning the tide that was running against the traditional views. Butler's lament in the opening sentences of his Analogy-- It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by many persons, that Christianity is not so much a subject of inquiry, as that it is now, at length, discovered to be fictitious, and accordingly they treat it, as if, in the present age, this was an agreed point among all people of discernment; and nothing remained, but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of reprisals, for having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world is a humiliating admission of the orthodox failure to command the confidence of the times and at the same time points to the need of deliverance from another quarter. (Thank God! the deliverance came in due time. It will be spoken of presently.) It was not that the opponents of orthodoxy were abler thinkers or better scholars than its advocates. The opposite was mostly the case. But the spirit of the times had run on in advance of the accepted canons of theological thought. Theologians were repeating the mistake of Catholic apologists of an earlier time--trying to bind the growing thoughts of men to the formulae that satisfied the spiritual demands of an earlier age but obscured the very truths they were intended to preserve when used as an established rule of faith. The apologists had not only failed to sustain confidence in those great doctrines which the Protestant creeds expressed, but the attempt to maintain them by means of external evidences had fostered disbelief in revelation itself, And no wonder! The defenders of orthodoxy stood on the ground of their opponents. They gave to natural religion the primacy--there were some exceptions among them--and made revealed religion to rest upon it. According to both parties religion reposed ultimately on an intellectual basis. Its content was doctrine. In consequence revelation was conceived as the external communication of truths to be believed and faith was assent. They were also handicapped by a false view of history and a false method of studying it. To justify their contention that revelation was necessary in order to republish and re-establish the corrupted truths of natural religion they had to represent the course of earlier history as a gradual corruption of pure religion and morality--an inheritance from Calvinism. They had to subject the facts of history to dogmatical necessities. Through their statutory view of religion they were led to a legalistic treatment of the Old and New Testaments, whose accuracy on all subjects touched by those Scriptures they felt called upon to defend. For this their opponents punished them severely. The great need of the time was not a new apology so much as a renewed Christianity, a new experience of religion that should produce a new view of its nature. The long controversy was by no means altogether in vain. Beginnings were made in modern textual criticism of the New Testament and in the recognition of a distinction between the literal accuracy of the Scriptures and their religious worth. Much light was thrown upon Old Testament prophecies and improved methods of exegesis began to appear. The appeal to the course of history prepared the way for historical criticism and the great achievements of a later time in the field of the history of religions. c) David Hume.--The chaotic state of religious thought in Great Britain at the time is reflected in the writings of the famous philosopher David Hume. Hume is often spoken of as a deist. He is better described as a skeptic, I think, an unwilling skeptic. Hume developed the philosophical principles of Locke to their natural conclusions. Locke had traced impressions and ideas to two corresponding substances, a material substance and a spiritual substance. Bishop Berkeley had shown the untenability of material substance on these principles, and now Hume drew the same conclusion in reference to spiritual substance. The principle of causation through which substances had been posited as the sources of our ideas is discovered to be no impression at all to which something real could be said to correspond, but only a lively idea of the recurrence of certain phenomena which we are in the habit of perceiving in attendance on certain other phenomena. It is only a belief. This is all the justification we have for arguing from an idea to its cause and the only necessity that exists in the connection between cause and effect is a propensity of the mind. Hence our ideas give us no knowledge of their causes beyond themselves. Accordingly there can be no proof of the existence or the attributes of God. All we have is a mere belief, a lively feeling. Hume's philosophy was fatal to "natural theology" and sounded the death-knell of philosophical deism. But not satisfied with this, he proceeded to attack the belief in miracles on the ground that a miracle would be in conflict with unalterable experience. The testimony to the actuality of miraculous occurrences is set aside with the affirmation that it must give way before the broader testimony of a firm experience. No sys tem of religion, he concludes, can repose on the evidence of miracles. He next proceeded to demolish the prevailing views of the origin and history of religion. So far from arising from the activity of reason it sprang from the human emotions of hope, fear, and the like. The course of religion was the inverse of what it was commonly supposed to be--not from an original purity by corruption to lower forms, but from the lower and grosser polytheistic forms to the higher forms. Renouncing the current theology, whither orthodox or deistic, he declared that, "our most holy religion is founded on faith, not on reason." Here was a bold challenge to Protestant thinkers to furnish a theoretical basis of confidence in morality and religion. Kant took up the task of answering the former part of the challenge and Schleiermacher the latter. Before explaining their apprehension of the allotted task we must turn our attention for a short time to the concurrent philosophical and theological development on the continent. RATIONALISM ON THE CONTINENT Our opinion that the discredit into which the traditional beliefs had fallen in England was owing to influences that are native to Protestantism is confirmed by an examination of contemporary thought in Holland and Germany. There, too, Protestantism had accorded to reason an unimpeachable right in things natural, while also revealed religion was distinguished from natural religion. There was a similar account to that given in England of their origin, and revelation was similarly discredited. We find on the other hand less of keen analysis but more of speculation than in England. In Holland the republican spirit favored a tolerance of dissent, and though a strict Calvinism triumphed at the Synod of Dort and stern measures of repression were sometimes employed, nevertheless the tendency to liberal thinking could not be repressed. Arminianism spread, the Mennonites and Baptists managed to live, and great thinkers like Hugo Grotius, Professor Coccejus of Leyden, and George Calixtus toned down the prevalent Calvinism. The first opposed the doctrine of penal atonement, the second rejected the doctrine of decrees and advocated such an exegesis of the New Testament as would bring out its peculiar spirit, the third sought to relate Christianity favorably to current culture and to emphasize the great central verities rather than the strict terms of the creeds. Their influence was far-felt. Greater in importance were the philosophical speculations of the philosophers René Descartes and Baruch Spinoza. The former sought to satisfy the Protestant quest for certainty by an appeal to the individual self-consciousness, all external authority being rejected. All possible doubt is justified as a means of arriving at certainty. But whatever else I may doubt I cannot doubt that I think. Self-conscious thought becomes the basis of all certainty. In my thinking I am aware of my own existence. I am thus the (mathematical) cause of my thought. From the idea of God he argues to the certainty of the existence of God as the necessary cause of the idea. God is self-caused. He alone is substance; mind and matter become substance in only a secondary sense. Their phenomena are, respectively, modes of thought and mode of extension. Mind and matter have their nexus in God, the final substance. Spinoza developed this last idea. The infinite substance necessarily differentiates itself in an infinity of modes (finite existences) which again are ultimately resolved back into their original. The world thus becomes the necessary but fluent expression of the attributes of God. The infinity of attributes can find expression fully only in an infinity of worlds. We err when we attribute reality to our own or the world's existence. God alone is real. The consequences for morality and religion are evident. Human responsibility disappears. All personal qualities of God are negated. This attempt to explain all existence by the necessary forms of thought inaugurated the philosophical movement which is known as the Aufklärung ("Illuminism"). It was more constructive than the parallel movement in England. The explanation of all things was sought in the canons of reason. The conceptions of substance, attribute, cause, mode, etc., were the implements of discussion. Efforts were made to retain a portion of the territory of the super-rational but its boundaries were continually narrowed and it disappeared at last. Leibnitz developed the conception of substance in an unexpected direction. Instead of one all-embracing substance he posited an infinity of substances, mutually reflective, of which the one perfect substance is God, mirroring perfectly all the others. The knowledge of God, which is the same as knowledge with God, God's knowledge, is love, religion. Reason and religion coincide as far as the former goes. This incentive to develop the whole body of religious truths by a process of rational demonstration was carried out by Christian Wolff and his successors of the Aufklärung. Man was ultimately made the measure of all things and only those doctrines were received as true which were essential to man's wellbeing. The Aufklärung resembled the deistical movement in England, but it was superior to the latter, especially in its positive regard for religion and its more earnest effort to understand Christianity by a study of its history and a critical examination of its early documents. Reimarus, Wettstein, Ernesti, Michaelis, Griesbach, Eichhorn, Semler, are the great names in this connection. Textual and historical criticism discovered many errors, the human motives and historical circumstances that influenced and composition of the biblical books were investigated, and the statutory character of the Scriptures was disproved. But along with these somewhat negative results there was an impulse given to grammatico-historical exegesis; the peculiarly religious character of the Scriptures and their supreme value for the religious spirit were brought to light. This could not fail to be the case in the end. The famous Gotthold Ephraim Lessing inaugurated a more positive study of Christianity as the religion of revelation. By insisting that Christianity precedes the New Testament and is greater than the documents that represent it he maintained the compatibility of faith in it with a free critical judgment of its documentary sources. He presented a philosophy of revelation that recognized in it a method of the divine education of the human race and assigned to it a positive relation to human culture and civilization--a lesson that Christians have been slow to learn: Revelation is a divine mode of education. It may anticipate the discoveries of reason but gives nothing that could not ultimately be attained by reason. Though Lessing himself remained at bottom a rationalist, he made an important contribution to the religious thought of his times by insisting upon a distinction between the religious feeling of the books of the Bible and the temporary forms in which it is conveyed to us. Gottfried Herder followed this clue further and taught men to appreciate the peculiar Hebrew feeling of the biblical writers. He pressed home the thought that religion is not knowledge but an inward conviction, an awareness of the divine operating in our hearts and identical with true humanity everywhere. Here we find ourselves at length in the company of Schleiermacher. KANT Our brief survey of the course of rationalism will be brought to a close with a few words on the bearing of the philosophy of Immanuel Kant on the questions at issue. As Hume's philosophy signalizes the destruction of the English deism of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, so Kant's Critique of the Pure Reason marks the end of the old German rationalism and introduces a new era in philosophy. Its effect on the course of theology is equally marked, even to the present time. The aim of Kant was positive--to lay a foundation for morality and also of religion. His critique was concerned, not directly with the various systems of philosophy and theology that reason had striven to establish, but with the rational faculty itself. He finds that, while the sense-material which is embraced in our knowledge is derived from external impressions, the thought- forms by which it is built into perceptions and finally into a world of knowledge are supplied directly by tire mind itself. This is true even of the idea of cause. Hence the validity of our knowledge of the phenomenal world. But when thought-forms are divorced from this sense-material, and the pure reason uses these bare abstract ideas to build up a system of supersensible knowledge, and then goes on to predicate reality of the noumenal world which it finds back of the phenomenal world, it indulges in a specious fallacy. The airy structures of mere speculation are valid only for thought. Kant sees the laboriously constructed systems of speculative philosophy and theology fall into ruins at his feet. "Rational theology" or "natural theology" is destroyed. At the same time the orthodox theology was also undermined, since it also professed to supply information concerning the supernatural or the super-rational world. The arguments for the existence of God and the other objects of religious belief are discovered to be fallacious if they are interpreted as giving in formation concerning matters of fact. The arguments for the reality of a revelation based on miracles and prophecy also fail for the same reason, and theoretical agnosticism in regard to these things takes their place. But when we turn to his Critique of the Practical Reason a different result appears. What Kant takes away with the left hand he gives back with the right. He finds that the mind is self-legislative in matters of conduct. There is an unexceptionable law, a "categorical imperative," an all-embracing ought, without which human conduct would be unmeaning. The authority of this law depends not on some external super natural communication, but lies in the very nature of the practical reason itself. Given responsibility, and freedom is also therewith given. "I ought, therefore I can." Rewards and punishments are inevitable. God is therewith also given, else the law could not be sure of vindication. Immortality follows or else justice fails. In this way Kant makes a place for religion, such a religion as satisfies the demands of morality, a religion that depends for its worth on the value of moral demands. This is not the place to estimate Kant's arguments for religion. Whatever else this religion of his may be, it is not a religion of redemption and therefore falls short of the Christian religion. The importance of Kant's philosophy for our present purposes lies in the suggestion which his discovery of the categorical imperative gave to Schleiermacher in his vindication of religion and his exposition of the nature of the Christian faith. THE OUTCOME With Hume and Kant a former era of Protestant theology comes to an end and a new era shortly begins. Let us now briefly sum up the theological situation at the time. Roman Catholicism trained the peoples of Europe to depend, in religious matters, on authority--the authority of the church. When the Protestant Reformation led to a renunciation of that authority by many, they were compelled to substitute for it another ground of certainty in religious matters. The influence of mysticism, of new religious aspiration, and of the new intellectual awakening drew in one direction; traditional belief and the established methods of theology, as well as the instinct of order, drew in another. The resultant compromise gave to Protestant theology a double basis, the Bible as an external authority in some matters, and the individual human reason in others. But it was inevitable that a strife should arise and that one of these should encroach on the domains of the other. The trend of thought gave the advantage to the second of these. The intelligibility of the universe and the competency of the human mind to discover its secrets were axioms that seemed to promise that the human mind out of its own native energy might possess itself ultimately of the whole of the truth concerning God and our relations to him which it is necessary to know. Natural theology was to displace revealed theology and to appropriate its territory. The attack was first directed against the claim that there was need of a special revelation and next against the "evidences" of it. Protestant orthodoxy received a defeat if we may judge by its failure to hold the general confidence of the people. But "natural theology" fell at the same time. The work of Hume and Kant showed that its structures were flimsy and that its so-called rational theology was a mere cobweb of the human intellect. If reason had destroyed revelation it had also apparently destroyed itself, at least so far forth as religious knowledge is concerned, and if religious knowledge turns out to be delusive, what is the good of any knowledge? Kant's attempt to save morality from the maelstrom, even if successful, could hardly as yet be said to have saved religion, unless religion is to be viewed as subsidiary to morality. Shall we say, then, that the Protestant confidence in the capacity of the human mind was misplaced? that in religion we must fall back on an authority that defies reason, or else admit that there can be no religious knowledge? Or is there a better way out of the difficulty? Might it not be that the nature of the human mind was too narrowly conceived--that the rationalists had erred by regarding it exclusively as intellect? Might it not be that the orthodox had also erred by conceiving religion and revelation too narrowly in making out revelation to be information and religion to be the knowledge and belief of it? Might there not be a view of religion that would remove it out of the religion of that old, bitter controversy? The way to a new apprehension of the whole matter was prepared by the great evangelical revival of the eighteenth century. THE SAVING REVIVAL The cloud of unbelief that hung over Protestant Christian lands was dispelled by the gracious outpouring of a new spiritual faith in England which has continued to send out its beneficent influence into all spheres of human activity and promises to spread over all the world. The names of the Wesleys and of Whitefield are inseparably associated with this revival, but its source is to be discovered far back. In the preceding pages of the present work it is affirmed that the religious life that burst out so vigorously in Europe during the Reformation was hampered in its freedom and narrowed in its operation by its artificial connection with civil governments and with ecclesiastical and doctrinal forms that were inadequate to express its nature. It is not intended by this statement to convey the idea that the stream of life had been swallowed up in the sands. Within the established churches there were many notable examples of a vigorous spirituality superior to the temporary forms that were meant to control it. If too commonly the churchman was more in evidence than the Christian, we have many reasons for believing that in multitudes of in stances the case was the reverse. It is, however, rather in the religious societies that sprang up spontaneously, in the fellowship of the free churches of Protestantism, that we are to look for the natural channels for the propagation of the Christian faith. The history of religion among Protestants is a study of thrilling interest. Luther's faith consisted essentially in a firm assurance of the gracious relation of God to him in Christ as revealed in the gospel. The Anabaptist piety was of a similar type. The same deep feeling was cherished by many of their successors as the dearest possession of their hearts. This was one of the potent factors of the Puritan struggle in England on behalf of a simple worship and a high morality. It comes to vigorous life in Independency, in the Baptist churches, and the Quaker societies. It is strikingly exhibited in the career of Cromwell who combined with it the Israelites faith in Jehovah. It expresses itself in that wonderful creation of his genius, the New Model army. It finds beautiful utterance in Bunyan's immortal allegory. It is glorified in the sufferings of the persecuted dissenters and nonconformists during the degenerate days of the last two Stuart kings. But it met with eclipse amid the comparative safety and the material prosperity of the times that followed, until Moravianism revived it in the work of the preachers of the revival. a) The Pietists.--The story of religion in Ger many for the same period is not very different. Here we see the rise and spread of Pietism. State-churchism and formal orthodoxy left religion, like the German land at the close of the Thirty Years' War, in a condition of desolation. In those days John Arndt summoned men to a living faith that should be marked inwardly by an assurance of Christ's indwelling and outwardly by good works. Long afterward Philip Jacob Spener heard Arndt's call to a higher life and responded with all the warmth of a soul that was remarkably endowed by divine grace. He sought to draw men away from theological strife and a mere external compliance with the forms of religion, by holding informal assemblies of the people where the Scriptures were studied with a view to edification rather than for doctrinal purposes; freedom of question and answer was allowed, and the spontaneous utterance of prayer and praise was encouraged, Laymen and clergymen alike were urged to cultivate a devout spirit, holy living, and the practice of family prayer. His well-known work, Pia Desideria (Pious Desires for a Reform of the True Evangelical Church), seems to have given to Pietism its name. He found many willing listeners. The desire for a new reform spread rapidly over most parts of Germany and into other countries. Its influence was particularly marked in the universities where bands of students began to conduct independent courses of biblical studies among themselves. Hundreds and even thousands of them became zealous missionaries of the new cause. When the authorities interfered a new university was organized at Halle, which forth with became the headquarters of the movement. We remember that Schleiermacher was a student and later a professor there. Many forms of beneficence appeared, orphanages and Bible societies being the most noteworthy. The names of exegetes like Bengel have perpetuated the fame of its biblical learning to the present. All open opposition was finally overcome and Pietism became the dominant element in theological circles. At this point its failure begins. Success begot spiritual self-contentment and finally arrogant intolerance. Its sympathy with humanity in the broad fields of enterprise and culture was small throughout, and its view of life was narrow. Its connection with the state church was a fatal defect. On that account it shrank from a reformation of the doctrinal standards or the organization of independent bodies of Christians. Spener and his followers were careful to guard against any tendency toward Separatism. Here was a fatal error. Lacking the boldness of Free-churchism in England, Pietism fell back into the old forms of Lutheranism and Calvinism and, while the latter received from it a valuable spiritual impulse, its reabsorption was a loss to the world. The phenomenon of Pietism stands as a testimony to the fact that there was a spirit in German Protestantism which could find no fitting embodiment in the established forms of organization and doctrine. b) The Moravians and the Methodists.--When Pietism began to wane the smoldering flame of religious fervor was already being rekindled by the Moravian Brethren. Moravianism was characterized by spontaneity and initiative, Puritanic moral conviction, deep emotional experience, missionary zeal, and a capacity for organization. Hymn-singing, extempore prayer, and fervent utterance were marked features of their meetings. We have seen how profoundly these things impressed Schleiermacher. In middle life he used to look back longingly to their meetings for worship and felt how bare and poor was the official service in the German church. Their doctrines were in general agreement with Protestantism, but the central place was given to the person of Jesus, to personal communion with him, and to his atonement by death. Charles Wesley's hymn, "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," echoes their adoration of the loving, human-divine Savior. Zinzendorf and others went so far in this direction that God the Father was almost lost sight of, the Father was displaced by the Son, and God was said to have died on the cross. They did not give to their organization the name of a church but called it a society (cf. the early Methodists). Yet they were in reality quite independent of the state church. John Wesley seems to have got the clue to many of his organizations and methods from them. They gave an unmistakable impulse to the organization of free churches. This is not the most important fact in the present connection. They were the true founders of the Wesleyan evangelism. To their preachers, Spangenberg and Boehler, Wesley owed that assured confidence in the inner testimony of the Spirit, which was such a mighty force in the Revival and has come to us in our day as a factor of indisputable value in the determination of Christian truth. Our present confidence in the testimony of the Christian consciousness is an in heritance from the Revival. It has come down to us from the old Anabaptists through the double channel of English and German religionists. We need not repeat here the story of the great revival--how it spread throughout the British Isles, how it crossed over into America, how it flowed back like a refreshing stream to Germany. Unhappily the terrible wars, through which Germany passed in the struggles with Austria and France, filled the minds of men there with other thoughts. Nevertheless, Ger many shared in the blessing the Revival brought. The fruits of the movement are now to be seen in many lands. The free churches have been multiplied in numbers and power many hundredfold. Missionary work in heathen lands, long shamefully neglected by Protestants, has come to the chief place in the thoughts of Christian leaders; philanthropic agencies have been multiplied everywhere; evils so deeply seated in human society that they seemed native to it have been attacked with a boldness and persistency that repose on a confidence in the power of the gospel to renovate social life everywhere. It may not be possible to describe the fundamental nature of this great revival of Christian faith in a word. There is, however, one outstanding conviction that seems to have wrought itself by means of the Revival into the fiber of our thinking--the unimpeachable worth of the individual man. We see how nearly identical it is with the motive power of the Reformation. It is working a like revolution in our thinking. The effect on prevailing apprehensions of the nature of religion has been immeasurably great. In the first place men have come to see that religion is a universal, though distinctive phenomenon of human life, not to be identified with any of the doctrinal formulae, established organizations, or forms of worship formerly regarded as indispensable to it. In the next place, it is implicitly admitted to be a matter of individual concern and every man is understood to be capable of a conscious enjoyment of it and of an immediate certainty of its divine character. It is further seen to be a matter of experience, and this experience has been acknowledged in ever-widening circles to be a prerequisite to personal participation in Christian activities. And finally, as admittedly a matter of inward experience, there has been an increasing recognition of the value of the emotions in religion. The Revival was a restoration, a reinforcement, and an enrichment of the religious life that awoke to vigor in the early days of the Reformation and that had made an ineffectual attempt to find embodiment in those days. That life had never obtained a reasoned theological expression suited to its nature. If the new movement was not to degenerate into fanaticism on the one hand or into formalism on the other, then it must receive a coherent theoretical expression in doctrine. In those early religious experiences which formed the basis of his whole religious life Schleiermacher was a spiritual child of Moravianism. He was the first thinker of note to undertake the task of reconstructing the traditional doctrinal system from the standpoint of evangelical religious experience. The rejuvenescence of Protestant theology begins with him. SCHLEIERMACHER It has been shown that at the close of the eighteenth century the state of theological science was very unsatisfactory. The traditional creeds had been under mined and their defenders had propped them up with very shaky supports. Deism was itself dying of inanity. In the light of Kant's Critique the great speculative systems now appeared as castles in the air. Kant's own attempt to save belief in the three essentials of rational theology by making them postulates of the practical reason had subordinated religion to morality and theology to ethics. Theology was discredited both as to content and as to method. Schleiermacher heard within himself the summons to a vindication, first, of religion, and second, of theological science. He was peculiarly fitted for the task. Though still a young man, he was well acquainted with the best ancient and modern works on philosophy. His Moravian training had called forth the powers of his deep religious nature and left an ineffaceable impression on his sensitive and ardent mind. He had passed through a period of doubt when rationalism swept away the doctrinal beliefs which he once received on authority. He knew that a shallow illuminism had no correspondence with the deepest longings of the human heart. Romanticism with all its dangers was preferable to intellectualism. That the canonization of human impulses bad and good, to which Romanticism with its aesthetic pride gravitated, had led him dangerously near to a confusion of moral distinctions we have already seen, but it had also helped him to regain and hold fast the assurance of the unimpeachable right and dignity of the inner life of the human spirit. The outcome of his reflections on the subject appeared in the publication in 1799 of his Discourses on Religion to the Educated among Its Despisers. The treatise was timely. It obtained at once a wide reading in literary and learned circles. The redundancy and floridness of its style make it a little tedious to present-day readers^ but these qualities were an advantage to it at the time. Even its obscurities were a recommendation to it in contrast with the platitudes of the Aufklärung. Many who read it awoke as from a dream. Pastor Harms, a theological opponent of Schleiermacher's at a later date, confessed that he sat up all night long to finish the book at a single reading. The Discourses proved a turning-point in the study of theology. To establish their value it is only necessary to refer to the discussions on this work which still continue to appear from the pens of German scholars. Schleiermacher aims at laying a foundation for theological science by first of all expounding the nature of religion. He finds religion, as Kant had found the fundamental moral law, in the human consciousness as such--it is a necessary and inalienable constituent element of human experience in its highest interpretation. It cannot therefore be a product of thought (it is not to be identified with a doctrine or sum of doctrines or to be viewed as the effect of such); or of moral action (it is not an inference from moral principles or a belief involved in the subjection to a universal moral law); but it is an original human endowment. Indeed, in human experience it is antecedent to all knowledge and action, for it appears in that rudimentary consciousness in which the distinction of subject and object, self and not-self, had not yet appeared. In this priority religion is exhibited as superior to knowledge and morality. Here the soul is the subject of the action of the universe; it is wedded to infinity. The question as to the form of consciousness in which religion appears is answered by saying it consists in feeling. In the first edition of the Discourses Schleiermacher added "and intuition," but in the later editions [11] he makes it to consist specifically in feeling, thereby weakening its claim to supreme worth, though bringing it into closer harmony with his whole system of theology. By feeling he means, of course, much more than mere sensation; it is that sense of oneness with the whole of existence which is peace and blessedness. It comes into vivid consciousness in those deep emotions which are aroused by, or expressed in, elevated discourse or poetry or song. It does not submit itself to minute analysis or theological process. It is an immediate possession. As for the philosophical explanation of such an experience, it is the universe, infinity, expressing itself in the human consciousness. Therefore it occurs in and with man's relationship to the world. In one aspect it may be designated as the human self-consciousness itself in its highest interpretation, and in another aspect as a function of the universe, the universe coming to self-consciousness in man. Therefore it pertains to the individual, and at the same time to the universal, consciousness. Accordingly it may be said that there are as many religions as there are men. Each man's religion is his own. It cannot be given to or borrowed from another; it cannot be imposed on men from without or taken from them; no man's religion is in itself false, for it is not false to him. But at the same time it may be said that after all there is only one religion, for in its essence religion is the same in all though varied in different people according to the stage or direction of their development. The undeniable symptoms of a pantheistic trend in the Discourses drew upon Schleiermacher much criticism. For example, his relative Sack, court-preacher, accused him of Spinozism and a veiled pantheism. But in his reply Schleiermacher vigorously repelled the charge. While he had not set forth the doctrine of a personal God, he had said nothing against belief in a personal God; he had only said that religion did not depend on whether, in abstract thought, a man predicated personality of the supersensuous cause of the world or not, and he had mentioned Spinoza as one instance. His aim was, in the present storm of philosophical ideas, to establish the freedom of religion from any sort of metaphysics and from dependence on morality, but he had no desire to cover any heresy by means of a reservatio mentalis. [12] The defectiveness of this view of religion, notwithstanding its warmth and suggestiveness, is apparent. It is as far from an apprehensible relation to any historical religion as Kant's moral ideal is from relation to any historical morality. But the author rendered an invaluable service to the cause of religion and theology by exhibiting the originality, freedom, and universality of the former and its basic relation to the latter. In this view theology becomes a living and progressive science, ever drawing its main impulse from the growing religious life of humanity. At a later time, when Schleiermacher had passed beyond the Romantic stage and found himself plunged into the great contest with the currents of thought that flowed through Germany along with the Napoleonic invasions, he aimed to bring his theory of religion into closer relation to ecclesiastical and national life. How this was done we shall see when we turn to his presentation of The Christian Faith. Schleiermacher saw at once the need of correcting the impression that he had little regard for ethics, and in the next year (1800) he published his Monologues. The theory is complimentary to his view of religion and represents the ego in its consciousness of freedom spontaneously determining its own inner development and striving to represent in its own person the whole of society, of the nation, and, ultimately, of humanity. This view reappears in his system of theology where the two parallel presentations are unified. Among the many works of Schleiermacher of more or less note which appeared before his whole system was elaborated, we may mention just one, his Outline of Theological Science (Kurze Darstellung des theologischen Studiums), 1806, which presents his conception of the integration of the whole body of theological sciences. Editions of this compact little treatise still continue to appear. The crowning work of Schleiermacher's services as a theologian is his Glaubenslehre, The Christian Faith. The occasion of its publication was the attempt of the Prussian king, Frederick William III, to unite the Lutheran and Reformed churches of Prussia in a new body, to be known as the Evangelical church. The three-hundredth anniversary of the beginnings of the Reformation seemed to offer a suitable opportunity for such an effort. The weakness of Prussia in the earlier part of the struggle with Napoleon had been partly a consequence of religious decline and division. Religious unity seemed necessary to political unity and strength. Schleiermacher's religious convictions and his patriotism combined to make him a supporter of the movement. But he saw the dangers that threatened the vitality of Protestantism. A strong conservative reaction had set in at the close of the Napoleonic wars. Pastor Harms led a party that demanded a return to the older rigid Lutheran orthodoxy. The king himself was not only a rank conservative but aimed at bringing the church more directly under state (and this meant for him, royal) control. A heated controversy arose between conservatives and radicals, or Supernaturalists and Rationalists, as they were called. It was at this time (1821) that the first edition of The Christian Faith appeared. Hurst [13] remarks: "The book was a surprise to all parties. It was a stroke of genius destined alike to recast existing theology and to create a new public sentiment for the future." Schleiermacher, by a broad treatment of the great topics of Christian theology, aimed at stemming the current running toward a narrow and intolerant orthodoxy, and at the same time, by bringing into relief the religious reality which underlies the different confessions of Protestantism, he hoped to deepen the consciousness of the unity and worth of the Christian faith. But the purpose of Schleiermacher's work went far beyond the needs of a temporary and local crisis. This his greatest achievement obtained a permanent place among the world's most notable attempts to solve the problems of the inquiring religious spirit, because it treated those problems in a spirit which recognized their seriousness and breadth. It was the work of a writer who had set himself diligently to apprehend the meaning of religion, and especially of Christianity, in a universe of things that lay open to human experience and investigation; who had held his mind open to receive whatever he might find nourishing to a hungry spirit in all realms of study and the philosophies of all schools. The task which confronted the genius of Schleiermacher may be set forth briefly as follows: to describe the inner nature of religion, and particularly of Christianity, so as to exhibit its basis in an original human enduement and its freedom from dependence, on the one hand, on a body of objective knowledge--whether that knowledge be externally communicated or be the product of rational thought--or on a form of morality, on the other hand; to relate Christianity as a historical magnitude to other historical religions so as to bring into relief its pre-eminence among the various forms of religious faith; to indicate the place of the religious experience in the entire realm of human consciousness so as to vindicate the claim that it supplies the highest interpretation of the universe; to restate the interpretations of the Christian faith which have appeared in the great historic confessional and creedal symbols so as to bring out their religious content, and at the same time to clear away those traditional philosophical and superstitious excrescences which have obscured the truth of Christianity; to effectuate the demand that no form of doctrine may be admitted to be Christian except in so far as it is an expression of the Christian religious consciousness--a present conscious religious faith; to furnish to aggressive Protestant Christianity an instrument for its advancement, in the form of a reasoned systematic statement of its own inherent nature. Did space permit, we might show how upon a foundation of Christian religious faith he built the product of the rich speculative genius of Plato, the sin-consciousness of Paul and Augustine, Luther's and the Anabaptists immediacy of fellowship with God, Calvin's all-embracing divine purpose, Spinoza's self-differentiating substance transmuted into the principle of causality, Leibnitz mirroring of the universe in the individual, Lessing's philosophy of the revelation which, at the same time, is education, with Kant's conviction of the incompetency of pure reason to establish religious truth running through it all. How all these elements, shot through with the Moravian warm love for Jesus Christ and the fellowship of grace, were recast in the crucible of Schleiermacher's own thinking and were built up into a massive system, the following exposition will make an effort to show. __________________________________________________________________ [11] A second edition appeared in 1806, and a third in 1821. [12] See the whole correspondence In Studien und Kritiken (1834). [13] History of Rationalism, 241. __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ II. THE CHRISTIAN FAITH __________________________________________________________________ II. THE CHRISTIAN FAITH A SYSTEMATIC EXPOSITION BASED ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE EVANGELICAL CHURCH __________________________________________________________________ INTRODUCTION (§§ 1-31 [14] ) At the outset of this undertaking it is necessary to explain the meaning that is here attached to the term dogmatics and to set forth the method and the arrangement appropriate to it. For, while Christian communions generally make use of dogmatical (doctrinal) statements both in their own internal economy and in their intercourse with other religious bodies, an examination of the theological writings best known among them will discover great diversity and confusion in the articulation of the different theological disciplines and in the application of them to the purposes of the societies concerned. Of dogmatics this is true in an eminent degree. The greatest differences in the orderly development of the subject will occur, of course, in those works which represent thoroughly different conceptions of dogmatics, but minor differences appear even in works which repose on a similar basis. In any case the method and order of treatment are best justified by results and, in order to the best results, should be set forth for the reader at the beginning. __________________________________________________________________ [14] The paragraph references are to the corresponding portions of the original work. __________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER I EXPLANATION OF DOGMATICS (§§ 2-19) Dogmatics is a theological discipline. Its sole use is to serve the interest of the Christian church. This consideration determines for us its peculiar task. Since it presupposes the Christian church, a right apprehension of the church in general and of the character of the Christian church in particular becomes its basis and the touchstone of all that claims a place in it. This being the case, we are not obliged, for example, to derive a doctrine of God, of man, and of last things from universal principles of reason, because these principles have no more relation to the Christian church than to any other form of association among men; but there are three auxiliary sciences whose aid we do need as an introduction to dogmatics: first, ethics, because the idea of the church pertains to this realm, since it denotes a fellowship or association which originates and continues only through free human activities. Second, philosophy of religion, because in defining the term church it is necessary to distinguish the essential and permanent elements, subsisting in religious communions through all the stages of their development, from the individual historical forms in which their common principle may temporarily be embodied, so as to exhibit those elements as constituting the entire manifestation of religion in human nature. (Compare the philosophy of law as an analogous critical discipline.) Third, apologetics, attaching itself to the philosophy of religion in order to describe the peculiar essence of Christianity and its relations to other religious communions. Availing itself of propositions borrowed from these sciences, dogmatics then proceeds to its own peculiar task, though it is to be remembered that the value of the dogmatic does not depend on the correctness of the processes or conclusions adopted in all or any of these three auxiliary sciences (§ 2). __________________________________________________________________ I. THE CHURCH (Ethics) An ecclesiastical communion is to be distinguished from all other associations of men, such as the family, the state, the school, in that it is based upon piety, religion (Frömmigkeit). Religion is an immediate, or original, experience of the self-consciousness in the form of feeling. It is immediate, in that it is not derived from any other experience or exercise of the mind, but is inseparable from self-consciousness; and it is feeling, in that it is subjective experience and not objective idea, and in this respect it is identical with the self-consciousness, (a) Religion is not an act of knowledge nor the result of a process of knowing. If it were the former, its source would lie in human activity. If it were the latter, its content would be doctrine, dependent upon prior processes of the intellect, and subject to all the uncertainties which pertain to scientific investigation. The measure of knowledge would be the measure of piety; religion would be a mere acquirement or possession and no essential element of human nature, (b) Neither does religion consist in action. This would make it identical with morality. But actions which are bad in moral content as well as those which are good, proceed from religion. The only respect in which an action partakes of a religious character is in the motive which prompts it, and this, in the last analysis, is feeling. This conclusion is confirmed by the universal admission that there are states of feeling such as regret, contrition, assurance, joy in God, which are in themselves of a pious (or religious) nature apart from all expected results in knowledge or action. To make religion consist in the end attained would be to identify it with successful results, (c) Nor, again, is religion a condition compounded of knowledge, action, and feeling, for of such a fourth state of consciousness we are not aware in experience. While feeling is connected with both knowledge and action, it is not dependent upon them for its religious character, but imparts this to them. Religion, then, as consisting in feeling, denotes a state of our being, and hence in religion man is not primarily active but receptive. It must be so, for though in all consciousness there is a double element, namely, the self-consciousness, or ego, and a determination of the self-consciousness, or experience, it is impossible that the latter should be produced by the former; because the ego is ever self-identical, but experience is variable. Nor could we ever have a separate consciousness of the ever-identical self, because such a consciousness would be destitute of all determinateness or of quality; and consequently consciousness of self is dependent upon experience. But this is just to say that all consciousness, our objective self-consciousness included, is dependent upon a prior influence exerted upon our receptivity. We are compelled therefore to seek the common source of our being and experience in an Other. Now, as we actually find ourselves in this world, we experience a double relation, a relation of freedom and a relation of dependence, expressing respectively spontaneity and receptivity in the same subject. As a part of that divided and articulated whole which we call the world we stand toward it in a position of reciprocal activity. We affect it and are affected by it. And therefore our feeling in relation to the world is of relative freedom and relative dependence. But yet, while it is impossible for us to have, as a part of the world, a feeling of absolute freedom toward it, we do have in and with the world, even in the experience of freedom toward it, a feeling of absolute dependence; and since we have no self-consciousness independently of our place in the world-whole, the consciousness of absolute dependence for ourselves involves the absolute dependence of the whole world, The ground of our being and of the being of the world is in a source beyond our being and the being of the world. This feeling of absolute dependence is religion. In religion we feel ourselves absolutely dependent upon God. This feeling, as has been already pointed out, is immediate. That is to say, in religion we find ourselves in immediate relation with God. But though the term God is here used, it is not to be understood that religion avails itself of any idea of God previously obtained by information or theophany. For such an idea of God would be intellectual and sensuous and would spring from a source outside the religious experience, and therefore no place can be assigned to it in a body of Christian doctrine. In saying we are in immediate relation with God, the latter term is used only to designate the Whence of our spontaneous and receptive life, of which we be come aware in our feeling of absolute dependence. This Whence, co-posited in our consciousness, is the truly original meaning of the term God. We do not indeed reason from this feeling to the objective existence of God, but God is immediately given in the feeling of absolute dependence. Feeling, self-consciousness, properly interpreted, involves the God-consciousness. We do not hereby dispute a supposed original knowledge of the existence of God obtained in some other way, but we only assert that with such knowledge we have nothing to do in Christian doctrine. This feeling of absolute dependence constitutes the highest of the three stages of human consciousness: the first, the animalistic, prevailing in infancy and dreams, in which the antithesis of subject and object has not yet arisen because the mental functions are in a confused condition; the second, the sensuous, in which the antithesis is distinct; the third, the religious consciousness, in which the antithesis between self and not-self disappears and all is comprehended as identical with the subject. There is no other condition of consciousness parallel to this absolute feeling, for in all knowledge and action the antithesis of subject and object remains. But this highest stage never occurs in separation from the second. For being entirely simple (unvarying), self-identical in nature, and present in all activities, it could never possess the clearness and definiteness necessary to experience; and also, if it constituted by itself at any time the whole of our experience (which is the same as saying that thought and action might be unconnected with self-consciousness), the coherency of our being would be destroyed. It could not arise in the animalistic stage, because self-consciousness has not then arisen. But when the human soul breaks loose from the confusedness of that lower stage and recognizes the antitheses which present themselves in experience; and yet along with its sense of partial freedom and partial dependence recognizes also its absolute dependence, so that every potency of the sensuous consciousness is related to that higher consciousness, then we have the self-consciousness at the point of perfection. The more fully every element of the determinate self -consciousness is shot through with the feeling of absolute dependence, the more fully religious the man is. The second and third stages always coexist. In other words, the feeling of absolute dependence is always conjoined with sensuous experiences, and the degree of a man's piety depends upon the extent to which his sensuous experience is pervaded by the pious feeling. Or, to state it again differently, the measure of piety is the extent to which a man feels himself absolutely dependent, even in the midst of his relations to objects toward which he is relatively free, and the extent to which he can unite them all with him as absolutely dependent. Of course the ideal life, the blessedness of finite beings, would consist in an evenness of condition in which the religious feeling maintains itself in unbroken perfection, but in actual life sensuous experience introduces influences favorable and unfavorable to the feeling of absolute dependence, producing joy or grief, elevation or repression of the religious life, so that in consequence it comes to be expressed in a series, more or less interrupted, of pious impulses, instead of being constant and unvarying. This feeling of absolute dependence, the God-consciousness, being the highest stage of the immediate self-consciousness, is an essential element of human nature. (The absence of this feeling in the case of any man or association of men could not prove that it is only contingently related to human nature, unless it could be shown that it is of no higher worth than sensuous feeling, or that there are other feelings be sides of equal value with it.) Now, every essential element of human nature forms a basis of communion. For, on the one hand, the race-consciousness within us produces an impulse to overstep the boundaries of our own personality and combine with others, and therein it finds its satisfaction; and, on the other hand, this impulse to communicate to others our inner experience is rendered possible of fulfilment by the constant connection of the religious feeling with sensuous experience (above noted). Word, act, tone, facial expression become channels for communicating to others and (through the race-consciousness) of stimulating in them our own experience. The issue is, the formation of an association or communion based upon that experience and composed of those who are capable of appropriating it. Thus religion produces religious communions. These will vary in character, on the one hand, according to likeness or unlikeness of disposition in different people (that is to say, according to the region of the self-consciousness with which the God-consciousness can most easily be united), and, on the other hand, according to the external circum stances (e.g., household or territorial relations) which shape their lives. Thus the religious feeling produces, in connection with these relative mutual attractions and repulsions, churches varying in character according to the influences just described. And as individuals or families vary in respect to the power of communicating the religious impulse, one being related to it actively, and another, or others, rather receptively, so arises priesthood. NOTE.--If the religious nature is essentially social and expresses itself in the formation of churches, then it is confusing to speak of "natural religion"; because there is no natural church in existence in which the elements of such "natural religion" may be sought. It were better to speak of the religious disposition or religiosity (§§ 3-6). __________________________________________________________________ II. DISTINCTIONS AMONG RELIGIOUS COMMUNITIES IN GENERAL (Philosophy of Religion) The idea of history presupposes development. In the political sphere the human race exhibits development in the progress of society through unions and amalgamations to the tribe and the nation; in art and science from rudeness to culture; similarly in respect to religion. From its original home in the household it spreads out into widely extended religious communions. But religious progress is not necessarily parallel with the other forms. For while certain species of religion are incompatible with a low form of civilization or culture, yet the development of piety to the highest perfection is possible while other spiritual functions remain far behind. Nor does it follow that, because two communities or peoples have passed through the same number of stages of religious development, their religion will be of the same character. Religions differ in kind as well as in their stage of development, as may be seen in the case of widely separated communities on the lowest stage. These distinctions have not received much attention in the past because the critical study of the history of religion has had regard to the individual rather than to the community. This twofold distinction--kinds and stages--will serve to indicate the relation of Christianity to other communions or modes of faith. The admission that Christianity may occupy a stage of development similar to that of other religions is not prejudicial to its pre-eminence or finality, but it is incompatible with the view that Christianity stands related to other religions as the true to the false. Were other religions mere errors or absolutely false, how could Christianity contain so much in common with them and how could any man make the transition to it from the others? For error never exists in and for itself; it is a perversion of the truth and can be understood only through its connection with the truth. (See Rom. 1:21 ff.; Acts 17:27-30.) The lowest stage of religious development is occupied by idolatry or fetichism, from which monolatry is not generically distinct. In this, worship is paid to a god whose interest and influence are confined to a limited sphere, because the worshipers are at that stage of mental development in which the sense of totality has not yet been awakened. The addition of several idols or fetiches is contingent on the discovery of the incapacity of the first to meet all needs but in no wise indicates higher religious aspiration. The religious subject has not yet passed beyond that confused animalistic condition in which the distinction between the higher and the lower consciousness has not appeared; and accordingly the feeling of absolute dependence is reflected from an individual object sensuously apprehended. The union of several objects of worship in such a way that a plurality of idols represents one essence inhering in a manifold, introduces the next stage, when idolatry passes over into polytheism proper. Here the local relations of the different deities entirely recede and the gods form an articulated, coherent, manifold exhausting the whole sphere of deity. This corresponds to a sense for plurality, multiplicity, of being, in which a One-All is presupposed and sought for. The self-consciousness is now able to make the clear distinction between subject and object--the religious feeling is accordingly reflected from various affections of the sensuous self-consciousness, so that it is impossible as yet to refer the feeling of absolute dependence to a unity rising above all sensuous apprehension. Polytheism is an intermediate stage partaking of the nature of the other two. As the conception of the inherence of this plurality of beings in one Being rises more and more into consciousness and the higher self -consciousness be comes fully distinguished from the lower sensuous consciousness, monotheism appears. It is based on the unity of a Supreme. The self-consciousness has now been extended so as to take in the whole world of which we are a part; the world is apprehended as a unity; the religious feeling is capable of connection with every sensuous affection; hence the feeling of absolute dependence can be referred to the Supreme Being. This is the highest stage of religious development. So soon as religion has in some place been developed up to the stage of faith in one God, it can be foreseen that all mankind is destined to attain to it; for this faith contains within itself the impulse to unlimited expansion and the power to appeal to the receptivity of all men. From this two conclusions follow: it is impossible to conceive the original condition of mankind as mere brutality, and it is impossible for any man to pass from a higher to a lower stage of religion. There is also no historical instance of either case. On this highest stage history shows only three great communions: the Jewish, the Christian, and the Mohammedan--the first in process of extinction, the other two struggling for the mastery of the human race. Judaism, by its limitation of Jehovah's love to the stock of Abraham, is akin to fetichism. This appeared in that tendency to idol-worship which was not eradicated till after the exile. Mohammedanism betrays by its passionate character and the strongly sensuous content of its religious ideas its affinity to polytheism. Christianity has neither of these defects; from it there can be no relapse to either of the others. NOTE.--Since pantheism has never appeared as the confession of a historical religious communion, it does not come into consideration here, except with reference to the question whether a pantheism which has arisen from speculative thought be compatible with religion, supposing, of course, that the so-called pantheism is not a disguised negation of theism. If, in pantheism, God denotes the unity of the world, the question may be answered in the affirmative, since God and the world would then be distinguished, at least as to function. A man who reckons himself one with the world may at the same time feel himself, with this all, dependent on that which is the unity thereto. These three communions in the monotheistic stage represent three kinds or species, because their development is on different lines. The fundamental, as contrasted with a merely empirical, distinction between them is not to be found in a different quality of the feeling of absolute dependence (which is absolutely simple and therefore admits of no modifications), but in the different ways in which the religious feeling stands related to the sensuous experiences with which it must be united in order to constitute a moment of experience, an activity of life. Considering now the whole of life as made up of action and passion in their reciprocal operation, the relation of these to each other as means and end gives two general types of piety. When passion is a means to action, when it becomes only the occasion of some activity, springing from the God-consciousness, i.e., where the union of the God-consciousness with the receptive experiences which we receive from contact with the world becomes a means of promoting personal activity in the kingdom of God, the type of piety is teleological. Here it is the dominant attitude to an ethical task that constitutes the ground type of the religious state of mind. When action is a means to passion, i.e., when the union of the God-consciousness with active states of the individual becomes a means to the harmonious effect of contact with the world upon our receptive (i.e., feeling) nature, the type of piety is aesthetic. In teleological types of religion the sensuous is subordinated to the ethical; in the aesthetic types the ethical is subordinated to the sensuous. The former tends to the expansion, the latter to the contraction, of our self-consciousness. Christian and Hellenic piety are, respectively, the best examples of these. Confining our attention now to those religions which represent the highest stage we discover the grand distinction between the three monotheistic religions. In Christianity everything is comprehended under the conception of the kingdom of God; in it all joy and pain and all impulses springing from passive conditions partake of a religious character only in so far as they promote activity in this kingdom. In Juda ism, although the expectation of divine punishments and rewards indicates on one side the prominence of the sensuous element, yet the prevailing form of its God-consciousness is that of a Governing Will and hence passive states are ultimately subordinate to the active. But Mohammedanism is fatalistic and subjects the ethical to the natural in that it seeks as its end, even in its activities, the ease which results from a favorable relation to the divine decrees. Hence, while Christianity is wholly teleological and Judaism less perfectly so, Mohammedanism is unmistakably of the aesthetic type. Every religious community is a unit in two respects. (Compare the twofold distinction of stages and kinds, as above.) Externally, it possesses historical continuity from a definite point of beginning; internally, it puts its own characteristic stamp upon everything it possesses, even if other communions possess the same in some form. Thus as Mohammedanism arose with the Prophet, and Judaism with Moses, so Christianity began with Christ and possesses unbroken continuity to the present. Also the whole inward character of each is peculiarly its own. Christianity is not an offshoot of Judaism or a supplement to it. The sphere of religious experience in the case of these two religions is fundamentally different. In the case of the Christian religion faith in Christ must modify all pious feelings, must impart a new character to all the previously existent religious impulses, even to the God-consciousness in all the relations in which it is already present. Else Christ would be only an individual object capable of making certain impressions upon us, but no proper object of faith. NOTE.--Positive and revealed religion: "Natural religion," like "natural right," can only denote that which by a process of mental abstraction is seen to comprehend the elements common to all cases, and, like "natural right," has never been and never can be the basis of a communion. Such natural religion would not be so much religion as doctrine. If "positive" is taken to refer to the individualizing of this common possession, for example in Judaism in the form of commandment, in Christianity in the form of doctrine; then it can be shown that either commandment or doctrine has actual, acknowledged validity only within a definite communion, and must therefore rest ultimately upon the original religious fact (e.g., in Christianity, the person of Christ) which gave rise to this religious communion. The term "positive" must refer properly to the sum-total of pious life-energies within a communion which as a coherent historical phenomenon has issued from this original fact. Though the terms "revealed" and "revelation" have been subjected to much confusion of thought, it may be said that they always imply the fact of a divine communication and announcement which gave rise to a union of individuals. Only, this original fact constitutive of a basis of communion cannot be regarded as operative on man regarded merely as a knowing being, for in that case the revelation would be originally and essentially doctrine. But no super natural energy is necessary to the production of a combination of sentences which can be understood from their connection with one another. Doctrines therefore can be considered of supernatural origin only as parts of a larger whole, as descriptions of the life-energies of a thinking Being who, as a personal existence, works in an original way upon our self-consciousness by his advent into our sphere of life and by the total impression of his person. This is the original fact upon which the Christian communion is founded. Revelation is only to be assumed where not a single activity but a whole Existence is deter mined by such a divine communication, and what is then announced of such, that is to be considered as revealed. There is revelation, therefore, in all religious communions. None can claim that its own possession of divine communication is full and perfect truth and all others are false, because an announcement of God, if it is to be operative upon us, cannot be of him as he is in himself, but only of him in his relation to us. All original formations of piety, however imperfect they may be, rest upon revelation (§§ 7-10). __________________________________________________________________ III. THE PECULIAR NATURE OF CHRISTIANITY (Apologetics) It is the first duty of the apologist to discover and define the peculiar essence of that faith which he defends. The difficulty of doing this is very great in the case of Christianity because the Christian communion is split up into so many relatively separate communions. The apologist has to indicate not only the essence of Christianity in general but also that of the particular communion to which he adheres. This difficulty is accentuated by the variant forms of single doctrines, the diverse attitudes with which they are approached, and the many controversies which await settlement--to say nothing of the present wretched state of the science of apologetics. On this account we must content ourselves at present with the rather meager assumptions which follow. All Christians are agreed on two points: (1) in referring the origin of their communion to Jesus of Nazareth; (2) in the description of his work as redemption, though the term is not used by all, nor always occurs in the same sense. Its implications are two: passively, a transition out of a bad state into a better; actively, deliverance supplied by another. Restoration to a higher state preceding the bad is not necessarily involved in it. Since, in the Christian religion, piety is of a teleological character, this bad state is to be viewed as one in which the higher self-consciousness, the God-consciousness, is so repressed that it is difficult to unite it with the determinate sensuous experiences of life. We may call it godlessness or god-forgetfulness--not a condition in which there is an entire loss of God-consciousness, for the lack of something lying entirely outside the nature could not be felt as a want, but a state in which the religious feeling is under bondage. The two states are not thus absolutely antithetical; the opposition is one of degree. In the bad state the sensuous consciousness dominates the God-consciousness; by redemption the relation is reversed. The penances and purifications found in all religious communions are expressions of a universal consciousness of this need of redemption, but Christianity is distinct from all other religions by regarding all its religious impulses as dependent upon the redemption effected by Jesus of Nazareth, and also in that this redemption is considered as perfected and complete. The degree in which these two elements are felt by different Christians of course varies, but neither is ever entirely wanting. Other religions express the need of redemption; Christianity presents its actualization; in others the redemption is derivative and dependent on doctrines or forms; in Christianity redemption is the central point and rests on the person of its Founder. The communication and extension of his redemptive activity is the matter of supreme concern. In this relation between the members of the Christian communion and its founder lies the pre eminent distinction of Christianity. In Judaism, for example, and in Mohammedanism, the person of the founder bears no necessary relation to the communion; another might have founded it as well; he himself stood in need of the deliverance he brought. In these respects Christ stands distinct from all others. From this two conclusions follow: (1) Christianity is essentially different from all other religions and cannot be a mere perfecting of that which lay potentially in them; (2) Christianity can never progress beyond Christ. Christianity stands in a special historical connection with Judaism, for Christ was of the Jewish race, and indeed it seems that a universal Redeemer could not have arisen except from a monotheistic people. But its relation to Judaism and heathenism were much more alike than is commonly held. For in the time of Christ Judaism had become permeated with many non-Jewish elements and many of the messianic promises had been given up or misunderstood; while, on the other hand, both Greeks and Romans had monotheistic leanings and expectations similar to the Jewish messianic hope. The demands which Christianity made on both were such that the cost of becoming a Christian was nearly equal in the two cases. But the leap from heathenism to Christianity seemed greater than from Judaism because monotheism already was universal among the Jews, whereas heathens had to receive it directly from Christianity without passing through Judaism. Christianity was no transformation of Juda ism or a renewing propagation of it. Christ is no more a development of Judaism than of heathen philosophy, for the self-consciousness underlying Christianity is different. Christianity is indeed a fulfilment of Old Testament promises, not, however, in regard to the self-consciousness of those to whom the promises came, but in regard to the divine counsel. It cannot be admitted that there is an identity between Christianity and either the earlier or the later Judaism, nor that Judaism without the introduction of a new element could develop by a natural progression into Christianity, nor again that Christ himself lay in this progression in such a way that the life of new communion did not begin with him. The appearing of the Redeemer was not a something absolutely supernatural. While Christ cannot be considered as a product of the circumstances and spiritual environment in which he appeared, yet he was conditioned by them. His appearance must have been in accordance with the laws of human nature in its higher meaning. That is, the advent of such a life as his may be regarded as the work of a power of development inherent in human nature from the first, and externalizing itself in certain men at certain points of time, and thence spreading out, according to laws divinely ordered but, perhaps, concealed from us. Hence the appearance from time to time of religious geniuses prior to Christ. But these earlier revelations are worthy of the name only because they are destined to lose themselves in him who is to give gradually a higher life to the entire race. The incarnation in this sense is something natural. Since Christ was a man, in human nature there must be, in the original purpose of God, the capacity for the implanting of the divine in it. That is, the implanting of the divine in human nature is an eternal act. Otherwise the incarnation in Jesus would be an arbitrary act of God. Neither was the appearing of the Redeemer some thing absolutely super-rational. If the life-energies of Christ by which he wrought the redemption could be explained from the common reason dwelling in all men, then any other could work the redemption as well as he. That the super-rational is to be posited in the Redeemer and in the redeemed, and consequently in the whole range of the operations of Christianity, has been acknowledged almost universally by its confessors. Yet the redemption is dependent upon reason in that the state of the heart which Christ conveys to men in it could not be bestowed upon an irrational soul. If there were a total separation between the work of the Holy Spirit and the highest elevation of human reason, a consciousness of the need of redemption could never rise and never be satisfied. NOTE.--The doctrinal presentation of redemption is an entirely rational procedure, and doctrines are not to be divided into rational and super-rational, but they are all to constitute together a unitary system. In one reference all Christian doctrines are above reason in the inner experience to which they refer hence a proper appreciation of Christian doctrine cannot result from a purely scientific process. But in another reference all Christian doctrines are rational, in that all doctrinal constructions must follow the same laws of thought as propositions dealing with other matters. A distinction between rational theology and a theology which is above reason is inadmissible. Entrance into the Christian communion is solely, therefore, through faith in Christ as Redeemer. The expression "faith in Christ" like "faith in God" means the reference of our religious condition as effect to Christ as cause. Like the feeling of absolute dependence, it is an inner certainty which accompanies a condition of the higher self-consciousness. That condition is one of freedom from the need of redemption and it begets in the subject an effort to draw others into the same inner experience, an effort to extend the communion of faith by an exposition of the religious life in which Christ's own activity is present. That is to say, the representation of Christ in the Christian communion of faith is Christ's own self-presentation. The Christian message is, thus, at bottom, a testimony to an inner experience which is referred to the activity of Christ himself, because in that presentation of his historical career and his character which the testimony involves, the impression made on the minds of those who believe is the same as Christ himself made on his contemporaries. Thus faith and the participation in the Christian communion from which proceeds the testimony which awakens faith are inseparable. This faith is a certainty, equal to that which accompanies objective perception, that in the Christian communion founded by Christ the religious feeling is in the position of control, that through the operation of Christ on men the feeling of absolute dependence is established in their consciousness and dominates their experience in the world. Such certainty is not to be confounded with objective certainty based on demonstration. All so-called demonstrations of the need of redemption and of Christ's ability to effect it, whether by reference to miracles, prophetic promises, or other "evidences," presuppose the very thing they seek to prove. Faith does not result from such demonstrations, but it is the outcome, on the one hand, of an awakening to a more perfect self-consciousness and, on the other hand, of the reception of the total impression of his person (§§ 11-14). __________________________________________________________________ IV. THE RELATION OF DOGMATICS TO CHRISTIAN PIETY Like all other modifications of the self-consciousness, pious excitations have a tendency toward external expression, as in look, movement, tone, gesture. This is the source of systems of sacred signs and symbolic actions. It is inevitable that in the higher stages of mental development there should be an attempt to apprehend religious experiences in the form of idea and to retain them in the forms of thought. The connection and combination of these ideas in such a manner as to express the religious consciousness in a definite way and thus to give range to its circulation constitutes a religious doctrine, a declaration of faith. Christianity throughout the whole course of its progress from the Redeemer's personal teaching to the present has been characterized by this method of propagation, that is, it has been spread abroad by preaching. Every statement of Christian doctrine is a part of the preaching, for it aims at communicating the inner certainty of blessedness bestowed by the Redeemer. The form of the preaching is threefold--poetical, oratorical, and didactic. The last is of special importance when the other two forms of utterance fall into apparent contradictions because of their abundant use of figures. In those communions, particularly, which possess a high degree of culture and scientific knowledge, there is a felt necessity of connecting religious knowledge organically with the whole body of knowledge; there is a need of dogmatics. Dogmatics, then, arises primarily out of the demands of the religious consciousness. As to subject-matter, it is a description of subjective states of mind and it claims no validity beyond that of the inner certainty which is the Christian's possession. It is a necessary expression of the Christian consciousness, for it appears in obedience to the impulse of religion universally to exhibit itself and, in the case of Christianity particularly, to the impulse to extend the redeeming activity of Christ. On its own account the Christian communion requires a clear expression of its own peculiar possession; without such a description of the common faith piety in its membership could not reach the highest development nor could it be propagated effectively in the world. Tributary to the religious interest there is also a scientific interest to be satisfied. The human mind craves for unity, coherence, system, and the religious consciousness itself must remain unsatisfied until it has perceived the relation which faith bears to the other activities of the mind. A truly dogmatical statement must serve both of these interests, and its ecclesiastical worth is determined by its perfect correspondence with both. The same interests involve the combination of single dogmatical utterances into an interrelated and integrated whole, so that every potency of the religious consciousness in its full range may find an adequate expression. Dogmatics stands in a derivative relation to the Christian religious experience and not the reverse. As to its content it is not made up of a series or system of propositions unfolded from some objective truth obtained by a speculative process, nor is it a combination of doctrines supernaturally revealed; because in neither of these cases would Christian dogmatics stand in any necessary relation to Christian piety, nor would it possess any necessary validity for the Christian communion. Besides, since in both its origin would lie in a source external to the Christian consciousness as such, dogmatics would be dependent for its substance upon the products of philosophy and historical criticism and be subject to all the changes and uncertainties which pertain to these sciences. A dogmatic which consisted of such supposedly objective truths could not minister to religious needs. Christian piety expresses itself in the world in a multiplicity of ways, varying with the conditions of human progress in various places and ages. Its nature will, accordingly, be understood with growing perfection, as its expression in the many forms of Christian activity becomes ever more complete. Thus while dogmatics may gather its statement of doctrines from all this ever-varying and ever-growing material, it must itself ever remain incomplete, ever capable of fuller and more accurate expression, and ever in need of new scientific treatment. Dogmatic theology may be defined as "the science of the combination of the doctrines which are valid in a Christian church-communion at a given time." From this, three conclusions may be drawn: (1) No statement of doctrines can be final but Christian dogmatics must be ever progressive; (2) Yet there is a standard for the testing of dogmatical expression the fundamental Christian self-consciousness; (3) The teacher of dogmatics must be in personal possession of the definite Christian consciousness pervading a Christian Church-communion (§§ 15-19). __________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER II THE METHOD OF DOGMATICS (§§ 20-31) In a statement of the doctrines of the Christian faith, as has been already pointed out, we cannot begin with some principle externally given and then develop from it by a dialectical process a system of doctrines; but since Christianity is a modification of the self-consciousness, Christian doctrine will be the expression of that self-consciousness and all alleged doctrines of Christianity must be tested by the same. In the course of history a great number of these in a more or less systematic form have already appeared, It is necessary, therefore, to find a rule for the testing of them and then a principle according to which they may be arranged and combined in an articulated system. I. SELECTION OF THE DOGMATICAL MATERIAL The Christian religion is historical in character, Christian piety arises in no individual independently, but is propagated in the Christian communion and through it. This communion, comprehending many individuals, is, by virtue of its common inner character, a truly unitary life; it is one moral person existing under conditions of spiritual sickness or health. The fundamental basis of this communion is the peculiar essence of Christianity, and this once ascertained, we may then distinguish from it that which springs from an alien source; that is, what is heretical may be separated from what is of the church. Now, since the peculiar nature of Christianity consists in this, that all pious impulses are referred to the redemption which comes from Jesus of Nazareth, the rule is herewith supplied for the detection of heresy in doctrine: to wit, by ascertaining the different ways in which the essence of Christianity may be contradicted while the appearance of it is retained. We hereby obtain at the same time a rule for the detection of error or defect in our own apprehension of it. There are two ways of annulling the essence of Christianity while accepting the reference of the impulses of religion to Jesus redemptive activity as its basis, namely, by a wrong view cither of human nature or of the nature of the Redeemer. The result is that in neither is there implicated a participation in true Christianity. In the former case heresy arises when the redemption is accepted, but cither man's need of it or his capacity to receive it is implicitly denied. Of those heresies which arise from a defective view of man's nature, Pelagianism, implicitly denying man's need of redemption, while admitting the full capacity of his nature; and Manichaeism, implicitly denying man's capacity for redemption while admitting his need, are respectively the types embracing all. The second class of heresies arises when the redemption is accepted but Christ's ability to effect it is implicitly denied. This also occurs in a twofold manner, either by a denial of Christ's pre-eminence over all other men, or by a denial of his essential likeness to them, If Christ is the Redeemer, i.e., if he is the definite point of commencement of a constant and living, and therefore unhindered, activity of the God-consciousness in such a way that all others have part therein only through him, he must have an exclusive and peculiar dignity among men, and at the same time must possess an essential likeness to them. When the former is so exclusively emphasized that the latter seems a mere appearance, the heresy is of the docetic type; when the case is the reverse, the heresy is of the ebionitic type. Opposition to the essence of Christianity in any other form is not heretical but antichristian. NOTE.--Supernaturalism is often akin to Manichaeism and Docetism, and Rationalism to Pelagianism and Ebonitism. The evangelical dogmatician must assume the additional task of developing the antithesis between Protestantism and Catholicism into clear consciousness and of establishing it in a formula. For, just as the peculiar nature of Christianity is not to be found in an abstract conception of religion and religious communion, so also, since the religion of the individual and his relation to Christ does not arise or continue in him independently of the Christian communion, the peculiar nature of Protestantism is not to be discovered in a general conception of Christianity. For the Reformation was no mere reform of abuses; it was a point from which proceeded a peculiar formation of the Christian communion, a communion antithetical to Catholicism. To state the same thing somewhat differently: Just as Christianity is a phenomenon in history, an empirical fact, and its existence and character cannot be deduced from abstract conceptions of religion in general; so also Protestantism is a historical phenomenon and likewise is not to be deduced from the abstract conception of Christianity. The historical facts cannot be made to correspond with dialectical processes. The central point of opposition between the two communions can best be discovered by inquiring for those qualities in the one church which are the chief ground of objection in the other. The principal Roman Catholic accusation against Protestantism is that it is destructive of the ancient historic church and is incapable of building up an unbroken and enduring communion, but is ever fluctuating and ever tending to dissolve into mere individualism. On the other hand, Protestantism makes its chief objection to Catholicism that it robs Christ of his honor by laying all stress on the idea of the church and referring every thing to it, and that thereby Christ is subordinated to the church. Each accuses the other of slighting the Christian principle, but in an opposite way. The antithesis is capable of being stated briefly, thus: Protestantism makes the relation of the individual to the church dependent on his relation to Christ; Catholicism makes the relation of the individual to Christ dependent on his relation to the church. In Protestant dogmatics, therefore, the conception of the relation of the individual to Christ is primary and fundamental. NOTE.--There is no sufficient obstacle to the union of the Lutheran and Reformed churches since their doctrinal disharmonies do not rest on a fundamental difference in the religious frame of mind or a difference in morality and ethics, but they are solely an affair of the schools. From the inherence of Christian piety in a communion it follows also that a statement of doctrine is not the mere independent opinion of an individual, but is an expression of the peculiar religious consciousness of the Christian communion in which he lives and upon which he also reacts. Thus there comes to light a characteristic of Protestantism dogmatics: it is not an inventory of doctrines finally determined; but the free play of the individual factor in religious life and reflection is combined and interrelated with the common life and doctrine of the ecclesiastical body in which he inheres and which has itself come into existence by this very activity of individuals. Protestant dogmatics possesses both an ecclesiastical character and individual peculiarity and originality, and consequently not only is but ever is becoming. The process of the transformation and development of doctrine which began at the Reformation is to go on, unhindered, indefinitely. NOTE.--The terms orthodox and heterodox have no validity in Protestant dogmatics. Christian dogmatics and Christian ethics are best treated separately, because, while both are expressions of a Christian religious frame of mind, and while in their combination they present the whole reality of the Christian life, the former represents a static modification of human nature, the latter represents its activity (§§ 21-26). II. THE FORMATION OF DOGMATICAL STATEMENTS There already exists in ecclesiastical creeds, confessions, and doctrinal formularies a mass of professedly Christian doctrines, (a) Each one of these separate doctrinal propositions admits of a critical test; then the consistency one with another of all these is to be tested in order to unite all the truly Christian doctrines into one integral system. Every doctrine must conform to the following conditions: (1) It must be confessionally true, i.e., it must be a true expression of the Christian consciousness in some given church communion; (2) it must be scripturally true, i.e., it must be a genuine expression of that piety which appears in the New Testament; (3) it must be scientifically true, i.e., it must be logically consistent with other true expressions of the Christian faith and also with the facts of the objective consciousness; the terminology of dogmatics must be strictly scientific. These three tests are to be applied in the order named. Or, to put it in a word, Christian dogma must be the self-consistent expression, dialectically exact and in systematic form, of the common continuous Christian consciousness and in harmony with the unity of human nature. That conformity with some Protestant confession is made a test prior to conformity with the New Testament is not prejudicial to the latter, because, in addition to the fact that the Protestant church symbols themselves are professedly based on the Scriptures and the necessity of going back from the creeds to the Scriptures would arise only in case their interpretations of the latter are suspected, there is the further consideration that no individual opinion, purporting to be Christian, which does not possess apparent homogeneity with the expressed consciousness of a historic communion can be considered worthy of being called a dogma. That dogmas must be based on the New Testament rather than the whole Bible follows from what has been said of the relation between Christianity and Judaism. Moreover, if a doctrinal statement can be shown to rest on the New Testament no additional weight can be given it by a further reference to the Old; while, if it be supported by the Old Testament alone, it cannot claim to be Christian. Further, it is quite inappropriate and misleading to import the very expressions of Scripture into a doctrinal system, for this is to overlook the difference between scientific language and the free, popular, and rhetorical usage in the Scriptures. Isolated texts are to be used only when they evidently issue from the same body of pious excitations as those which are expressed in the dogmatical propositions. (b) The range of Christian dogmatics is deter mined by the consciousness of redemption. Within this consciousness lies a fundamental antithesis. On the one side is the need of redemption, a repression and limitation of the God-consciousness, a felt inability to erect the feeling of absolute dependence into a position of supremacy over all the activities of life. On the other side is the certainty of redemption through Jesus Christ, i.e., the God-consciousness is now put into a commanding position in all the energies of life, and this power to hold all in subjection to the religious feeling is referred to Christ. This does not imply that the consciousness of the need of redemption has disappeared; it may indeed be more vivid; but it is now specifically Christian. Consequently, all professedly Christian doctrines must conform to the demand that they have their source in the Christian consciousness of redemption. Thus it is impossible for Christian dogmatics to take over from so-called "natural theology" descriptions of a religious consciousness common to all men, or the results of speculative theology, however true these may be in themselves. Nor can this be done with doctrines of the person of the Redeemer, relating to a time anterior or posterior to, or apart from, his redemptive activity, or with doctrines of a state of humanity in which men no longer feel the antithesis implied in redemption, since those doctrines are not expressions of the Christian consciousness, whatever else they may be. Nor again can the discoveries of science in any field whatever or the products of meta physical speculation, all of which may be independent of the higher self-consciousness, be accepted as elements of a Christian doctrinal system until they have been reinterpreted from the standpoint of the Christian religious experience. According to this view no assertions of mere historic fact or of speculation about this Redeemer himself are entitled to a place in Christian doctrine. Since all Christian piety rests upon the appearing of the Redeemer, nothing that concerns him can be set forth as distinctly Christian doctrine which does not stand in connection with his redeeming causality and is not capable of being referred back to the original impression which his existence made. (c) As regards the framework in which dogma is to be exhibited: Since religion is in the last analysis the feeling of absolute dependence, and since that higher consciousness comes into actual supremacy over the sensuous consciousness in the Christian experience of redemption, Christian dogmatics will naturally commence with a description of the distinctively Christian consciousness. But since, as has been shown, the feeling of absolute dependence is inseparable from a world-consciousness over against which a God-consciousness stands, Christian dogmatics will also present a doctrine of the world and a doctrine of God from the standpoint of redemption. We shall treat the historic confessional statements under these three heads and in the order indicated. This order of discussion differs from that which has been the rule among dogmaticians. They have given the question of the being and nature of God the first place in the order of topics, but our method is more in harmony with the requirements of science and the needs of the religious spirit (§§ 27-31). __________________________________________________________________ I. UNFOLDING OF THE RELIGIOUS SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS (§§ 32-61) The Christian consciousness presupposes and involves the consciousness of absolute dependence on God. But in that peculiar modification of the religious consciousness which is experienced in Christianity the exaltation of the God-consciousness from a condition of repression to a position of dominancy over all the sensuous impulses is referred to Christ, so that there can be no reference (relation) to Christ in which there is not also a reference to God. The pain which is felt at being unable to realize the supremacy of the God-consciousness is attributed to a want of communion with the Redeemer, while the satisfaction experienced in the opposite state is contemplated as an impartation which has come to us out of this communion; so that there is no religious activity or potency within the Christian communion in which a reference to Christ is not involved. It has been pointed out already that the religious feeling is never experienced in isolation from other experiences but always in connection with a world-consciousness; and that the perfection of the God-consciousness is dependent upon the perfection of the world-consciousness. In other words, we find ourselves, as part of a world-whole, relatively free and relatively dependent. But over against this unity of a world organized and possessed of perfect interrelations in which we have our own definite place, there stands a higher unity upon which we feel ourselves and the world-unity absolutely dependent. The obliteration of the distinction between these separate unities annuls either the feeling of absolute dependence or the feeling of freedom, and contradicts human experience. Both of these two antithetical unities are therefore involved in the Christian consciousness. The experience of this feeling of absolute dependence is not contingent on any peculiar circum stance in human life, as though it were accidental and not absolutely constituent of human nature, nor does it vary in its character in different men, but is the same in all. The difference in degrees of perfection among men does not consist in a distinction in the quality of this feeling but is to be referred to the degree of development of the intellectual functions. (See above.) Supposed instances of a human self-consciousness which is destitute of the God-consciousness disappear on close analysis, except in those individuals whose intelligence is entirely undeveloped. But even if our contention that the feeling of absolute dependence and the God-consciousness involved in it constitute a potency essential to human nature were successfully impugned, we should be under no compulsion to formulate in our dogmatics a proof of God's existence, for such "proofs" would only issue in an objective consciousness of God's existence which could have no place in a system which is based on immediate inner certainty. Moreover, experience has shown of how little avail are such demonstrations in the face of theoretical atheism. It is not the business of dogmatics to secure an admission of the God-consciousness but to develop its content. To resume: Since the Christian religious consciousness is connected with a consciousness of unity with the world on the one hand and involves the feeling of absolute dependence on God on the other, Christian dogmatics will naturally begin with a description of the religious consciousness so far as the relation between God and the world is expressed in it; it will proceed further to describe the qualities of the world and the attributes of God so far as these are involved in that relation. It may be repeated also that such a doctrine of God and of the world is not supplementary to, or to be supplemented by, a scientific or philosophical doctrine of God and the world. Christian dogmatics rests upon its own basis, namely, the Christian religious consciousness, and it is complete in itself. Whatever cannot be evolved from the religious consciousness cannot be admitted to a place in dogmatics, because it lies outside the sphere of religion. Section I. Description of the Religious Consciousness, so Far as the Relation between God and the World Is Expressed in It Only when we feel ourselves to have a place in that organic whole we call Nature, or, as otherwise expressed, only when we are conscious of belonging to that unity which we call the world, with its division into parts universally related to one another, do we recognize our absolute dependence upon that higher infinite unity we call God. Our absolute dependence on God involves the absolute dependence of the world also. Hence the doctrine of the world from the view point of religion is summed up in the proposition: The totality of finite being exists solely by dependence on the Infinite, The creeds express this doctrine in the twofold form of the creation and the preservation of the world by God. Were not the use of these terms already established it would suffice to designate the whole relation of the world to God by either of them. If creation, instead of denoting a divine activity which began and ended at a definite point, were used to designate the continuous and uninterrupted activity of God in the world, it would include the idea of preservation. Or if, for example, we think of the species in connection with the individual existences embraced in it, the creation of the individuals is just the preservation of the species and the latter would include the former. In this way they become fairly interchangeable. The only distinction between these two conceptions is that the former adds to the latter the conception of a beginning of the relation of dependence. However, we have no consciousness of a beginning of existence, but only of a continuous existence, and therefore Christian dogmatics can produce no special doctrine of creation, but has only a negative interest in it. That is, dogmatics supplies the rule that no doctrine of creation can be accepted as Christian which is inconsistent with the world's complete and continuous dependence on God, as, e.g., the doctrine of a pre-existent material which was the subject of God's formative activity, or the doctrine of a commencement of divine activity at creation, both of which limit the dependence of the world to a circumscribed period, And, on the other hand, our discipline occupies a position of freedom in relation to scientific investigation. For example, for dogmatical purposes it is immaterial whether the account of creation given in Genesis be in accordance with the facts or not, or whether we have in this book an inspired account of the manner in which the world came to be; for in any case these an; questions of cosmology or of a doctrine of the Bible. Dogmatics is only concerned with those matters in so far as they stand related to religious feeling. The pious self-consciousness underlying the doctrine of creation is satisfied with that doctrine, (1) as expressing the idea of the world's origination through God, so long as God is not thereby brought into the relation of antithesis or limitation; (2) as referring the world's origin to divine activity, so long as it is not viewed as similar to human activity; (3) when it views the origin of the world as time-filling and conditioning all change, with out the divine activity itself being made thereby temporal. The doctrine of preservation more suitably sets forth the fundamental religious consciousness. It has been pointed out already that the highest development of the self-consciousness involves a consciousness of our being a part of the articulated world-whole, and this again is a condition of the highest development of the God-consciousness. Hence the highest knowledge of the world and the highest knowledge of God are interdependent, being a twofold expression of one and the same self-consciousness. Scientific and religious conceptions of the world are not antagonistic but complementary. The divine preservation of the world and universal natural causality are one and the same thing viewed from different standpoints. The affirmation of our religious consciousness that all that affects us exists in a relation of absolute dependence on God falls into line with the intuition that all is conditioned and determined by the world-order. If the common idea were true that the religious and the scientific view of things are mutually exclusive and that when the religious consciousness is more lively the scientific activity will be correspondingly weaker, and conversely, then the growth of scientific knowledge would result in the gradual extinction of piety, and the interests of religion would be opposed to all research and further extension of knowledge--altogether in contradiction with the truth that the impulse to world-knowledge and the impulse to seek God are both essential to the human soul. Now, it is quite true that the unusual and stupendous events in nature stimulate the religious feeling most thoroughly, but that is not because of the obscurity of their relations with other phenomena, but just because they manifest the most clearly the subjection of all human existence and activity to universal potencies and by this stimulate our sense of dependence. But this itself is just the most perfect admission of the universality of the world-order. Apart from this admission the religious consciousness could not be connected with every natural event. NOTE.--The distinction between general and special preservation is opposed to the universal interests of religion, and so also is the distinction between preservation and co-operation, for they imply the operation of forces which do not proceed from God. To add to these the idea of divine government is to make further confusion, for it introduces the antithesis of means and end to God, which implies a difference in the degrees of the immediacy of the relation of things to God. Because of the prominence which is given to the subject, particularly in apologetic writings, it is pertinent to apply the principles here enunciated to the subject of miracles. It is commonly supposed that an event which lies outside the fixed order of nature and which cannot, therefore, be accounted for by natural causality, has a special religious value because the divine causality is demanded for its explanation. But this is to suppose that the religious sphere lies outside of the universal order of relations, making the religious synonymous with the arbitrary and exalting the quality of arbitrariness to the rank of a divine at tribute. Nay, it does more: it separates God from the world and makes a religious view of the world impossible. It is destructive of science and of religion too. If it be urged that the Christian belief in the hearing of prayer and the new birth demands a belief in miracles it may be replied here (though these subjects are to be treated later) that our view relates prayer to the divine preservation so that the prayer and its fulfilment or non-fulfilment are only parts of the one original divine order of things. As to the new birth--if the revelation of God in Christ is not something absolutely supernatural then Christian piety cannot require that anything which coheres with that revelation, and issues from it, be absolutely supernatural. Yet it is to be noted that our knowledge of the relations of the physical and spiritual is too limited to warrant a denial of the historicity of certain remark able events related in the New Testament. But this is a question for scientific investigation and not for dogmatics. The operation of influences which constitute limitations upon our life is not to be denied. There is a difficulty in connecting them with God. for it seems to make him the source of evil, including the morally bad. While dogmatics has nothing to do with the origin and continuance of evil as an existence, but has only to show how it consists with universal dependence, a reference to the difficulty just mentioned is justifiable. If we divide these life-limiting forces into two classes: natural evil, by which human existence is partly annulled, and the bad, by which human activity is partly overcome in a conflict with others, the one class of opposing forces representing the totality of the powers of nature and the other class the entire combination of human activities; then it may be pointed out that the very forces of Nature which further individual human existence up to a certain point are also those which limit and extinguish it. The same double effect is seen in the operation of social influences. It will appear, then, that the furthering and the limiting of life are mutually conditioned. The personal existence of the individual is conditioned by the very influences which limit him. Accordingly it becomes plain that evil and good do not occupy two separate spheres, but both taken together constitute the world as it is. That is to say, evil is not for itself as such ordained by God, because it never exists by itself but only in relation to the good, of which it is a condition. All this is true, whether we speak of the "mechanism of nature" or of "free causes." Both belong to the universal order of nature, the cosmos. APPENDIX: DOCTRINE OF ANGELS AND OF A DEVIL The idea of these spiritual existences is brought over from the Old Testament into the New Testament and occurs in the popular discourses of Jesus and the Apostles. But whatever may have been their attitude toward the prevalent belief in such beings, it is to be observed that they give us no didactic utterance on the subject. Also, the creeds, while referring to such beings, for the most part elaborate no doctrine of angels or of a devil. And this is natural. For while there is nothing impossible in the idea, dogmatics as such has no positive concern with it. Our discipline is only interested to prevent an injury to the religious feeling through the direction of faith to an activity other than God's, or through the idea that the fixed order of Nature may be interfered with or abrogated by other beings, and thus the absolute relation of God to the world be compromised. As to bad angels, every attempted doctrinal representation of them is full of self-contradictions. As to the doctrine of a supreme bad spirit called the devil, whatever may be the source of the idea--whether in the belief in a servant of God who announces the evil doings of men, or in oriental dualism with its doctrine of absolute evil, or in the Jewish view of the angel of death--it can have no place in Glaubenslehre (a doctrine of faith). For if there is a personal actual existence absolutely opposed to God, a religious view of the world is impossible and faith in the Redeemer is compromised. For if the devil be a part of the world-whole, then God as absolute causality is not present to the whole of existence, the totality of experience cannot be referred to God, and religion ceases to be fundamental to human nature as a part of the totality of being. And if, on the other hand, the devil be not a part of that articulated totality we call the world, then the unity of the universe in relation to God is destroyed, our dependence on God ceases to be absolute, God is no longer absolutely God. Hence also, the redemption by Christ is compromised. For if the devil be not included within its sphere, our redemption is not complete, for the totality of being ceases to be subordinate to Christ. He becomes only a help against a power from which he does not afford absolute protection. A belief in the devil can be by no means a condition of faith in God or in Christ; nor may we discuss his influence within the kingdom of God. The doctrine of angels or of a devil is a question of cosmology, and not of theology. Such a doctrine cannot be a Christian dogma, because it cannot be an expression of the Christian consciousness. Moreover it is sure to fall into contradiction with growing scientific knowledge. Yet as long as men are conscious of the influence of inexplicable evil forces it is proper and necessary that the idea be utilized in religious communications of a practical and liturgical character (§§ 32-49). Section 2. Doctrine of God. The Divine Attributes Which Are Implicated in the Religious Self-Consciousness so Far as It Expresses the Relation between God and the World If, as has been pointed out, the feeling of absolute dependence, which is the essence of religion, is implicated in the specifically Christian consciousness, and if this consciousness of immediate relation with God arises only in connection with the consciousness of having a place in that universally interrelated whole which we call the world, then Christian dogmatics involves a doctrine of God and a doctrine of the world which arise from that fundamental religious feeling, apart from those doctrines which express the experience of redemption, which is specifically and exclusively Christian. Such a doctrine of God is not to be viewed as a description of God in himself, for we possess no objective knowledge of God; and even if such were possible, it could not become a part of our discipline; because, as it does not spring out of the religious feeling but stands in an external relation to it, such knowledge, if introduced into dogmatics, would constitute an alien element destroying its unity. The usual method followed in the discussion of this subject has produced confusion and a contradiction of the religious feeling. The various experiences of the religious spirit which have been expressed in poetry or popular discourse have been handled by the dogmaticians in a speculative way, as if they constituted a sum of knowledge about God. The necessity of divesting such expressions of their figurative and anthropomorphic form by a critical process before they can be utilized as material for a scientific statement has produced a skepticism in regard to religion, because it has become plain that in those ways no actual scientific knowledge of God was furnished. And when by a speculative process (e.g., via eminentiae, negationis et causalitatis) various classes of divine attributes are set forth (e.g., the natural or metaphysical and the moral, or the active and static, or the absolute and relative, or the original and derivative), it is made to appear that our knowledge of God is made up of a composite of mutually independent attributes, and hence that the object himself of this knowledge is a composite being. In this way the unity of the religious life in mankind is destroyed because the nature of the religion each individual enjoyed is made to depend upon that special attribute of the divine nature to which he subjects himself. Instead of such "natural" or "rational" theology, we must found our science upon the simple fundamental feeling of absolute dependence which (since man is receptive in this experience) furnishes us with the divine causality as the principle of dogmatics. Hence the attributes that may be ascribed to God will be those which express the various ways in which the feeling of absolute dependence is referred to God as the absolute causality. We necessarily posit absolute causality in God as that from which the feeling of absolute dependence is the reflection in our self-consciousness. There are various modifications of this feeling, that is, it is referred to God in various ways; and hence arises the necessity of positing in God attributes which correspond to the various ways of referring the fundamental religious feeling to God. Now these modifications arise from our relation to the universally interrelated totality of Nature in which we are. The range of our experience (or of the consciousness of our relations) is limited to this world, and hence the feeling of absolute dependence is experienced only within the world-whole (world-order) and through it. That is to say, for us the absolute divine causality finds its full expression in the totality of the forces of Nature. But since, on the other hand, our interrelations with the world-whole itself furnish us the feeling of relative freedom and relative dependence toward it, whereas along with the world we are absolutely dependent on God, our relation to God is the antithesis of our relation to the world; that is to say, the infinite, divine causality and finite, natural causality are antithetical. Hence the divine causality as corresponding in range to the totality of natural causality may be called the divine Omnipotence, but as the antithesis of finite and natural causality, the divine Eternity. But as these are mutually involved, it were better perhaps to say, God is the Eternal Omnipotence, or the Omnipotent Eternal. The attributes of omnipresence, and omniscience are simply another way of saying the same thing, through a comparison with the finite. To carry out more fully the comparison with the finite, we may represent the absolute divine causality from the religious standpoint as follows: 1. God is eternal--that is: because no moment of time can be disconnected with God, the religious consciousness relates the world to God as the power which, itself out of time, conditions all that is temporal and time itself. This is more than to say that God is without beginning and without end. "Immortability" adds nothing to this conception and is objectionable. 2. God is omnipresent--that is: the religious spirit, because it admits no place in the whole world to be destitute of a religious stimulus, declares that the causality of God is absolutely unspatial but conditions all that is spatial and space itself. It cannot be said that there is a difference in the degree of his presence in different places, as, e.g., the spirit of man compared with dead forces; the only difference is in the receptivity of various existences. "Immensity" is objectionable, for it imports spatiality into the being of God. 3. God is almighty--that is: the articulated totality of nature with its universal connection of causes and effects is grounded in the infinite causality of God and is a perfect expression of it, and consequently all actually happens to which there exists a causality in God. What has not happened could not have happened. To make a distinction between the actual and the possible, or between God's power and God's will is to create confusion. 4. God is omniscient--that is: the divine omnipotence is to be conceived as absolute spirituality. We cannot speak of the divine perception, experience, comprehension, or vision, for these involve a sensuous element and therefore put God within antithesis. To ascribe contemplation, memory, foreknowledge, mediate and immediate knowledge, or pure thought to God in doctrinal statement is open to the same objection: they transfer human activities to God and implicate him in human imperfection. His causality is living, absolutely spiritual. He relates himself to the object of knowledge in an eternal omnipresent way. As God knows every individual in the whole, so he knows the whole in every individual thing. APPENDIX Unity, infinity, and simplicity are commonly classed with the four above-named attributes of God, but they can be admitted only if they possess dogmatical content. a) As to unity.--Numerical unity is an attribute of nothing; the unity of existence and essence, like that of the individuals and the species, belongs to speculative thought. For the religious consciousness the expression "unity of God" signifies that the unity of all pious excitations is given with the same certainty as these excitations themselves. Accordingly unity is not so much a single attribute as it is the mono theistic canon which underlies all investigation into the divine attributes and is as little capable of proof as the divine existence itself. b) As to infinity.--This means negation of limitation. To predicate infinity of God amounts to a precaution against attributing anything to God which can be thought under limitation, and thus it is only mediately an attribute of all divine attributes. c) As to simplicity.--It is used to negate materiality in God, to exclude the idea of parts or combination in him, in short, divine participation in anything whereby we designate the finite as such. As infinity is an attribute of all attributes, so simplicity expresses only the unseparated and inseparable mutual involution of all divine attributes and activities. As infinity guards against the predication of anything in God that is thought within limits, so simplicity is a precaution against attributing to God anything which essentially pertains to the sphere of antithesis (§§ 50-56). Section 3. Doctrine of the World. The Nature of the World, Which Is Implied in the Religious Self- Consciousness, so Far as It Expresses the Universal Relation between God and the World Since the religious consciousness expresses a relation between God arid the world, it implies a religious view of the world-constitution. The doctrinal statement which describes that view will be the answer to the following question: If the consciousness of absolute dependence on God arises only in connection with the world, how must the religious self-consciousness view the world which excites this experience? Consequently, such a doctrine of the world is not to be confounded with a scientific account of it or to be considered as a rival thereto, since the latter proceeds by objective perception and ratiocination. The religious principle is an essential and universal element in human nature, but this principle never comes into consciousness except under the influence of impressions received from the world, of which human nature is an integral part. Further, that the God-consciousness be connected with every experience is a demand upon our nature; consequently every world-impression must be capable of exciting the religious feeling. Otherwise the God-consciousness would be only a contingent feature of human existence, and God's eternal, living omnipotence would be unable to obtain expression in the world. That is to say, if all finite being as it affects our consciousness is refer able to the eternal almighty Causality, the world must be such a world that every impression it makes upon us tends to produce in us the religious feeling. In other words, the religious consciousness presupposes the original (i.e., independent of special circum stances) perfection of the world. This is not to be understood as the equivalent of a doctrine of a definite condition of the world, past, present, or future, but it refers to the permanent ever self-identical relations which underlie all historical events. Such a perfection is ideal, never provable, and never demonstrably realized, but for our consciousness it is necessarily postulated as the presupposition of all world-history. The world-history is the developing, but ever incomplete, manifestation of that perfection. But the self-consciousness is not exhausted in that identity with the world of which we are aware in our consciousness of dependence, along with the world, on God; for in self-consciousness we also recognize the antithesis between ourselves and the world. Hence a religious view of the world involves, besides a doctrine of the original perfection of the world, a doctrine of the original perfection of man. 1. The Original Perfection of the World Since this original perfection of the world is a postulate of the self-consciousness, it can be a doctrine of the world, not as it is in itself, but only as related to man, the religious being. The relations between man and the world are twofold--each acts upon, and is acted upon by, the other. The perfection of the world in relation to man is therefore likewise twofold: (1) By means of the human physical frame, which both unites him to the world and becomes the organ of his spirit in relation to the world, it affects him on the real side; and on the ideal side it presents itself as knowable by him, and thus furnishes to him every where and at all times incitements to activity; it both supplies to him sensation and stimulates his powers of knowledge. (2) As receptive of man's activity and through the physical organism which is operated by his activity, the world offers itself to man as the organ of his self-expression; and as he thus extends his dominion over it more and more, it awakens in him the consciousness of the divine causality as that of which his own is an image. NOTE.--This doctrine of the original perfection of the world is to be distinguished from that doctrine of the world which represents the present world as the best out of many possible worlds, and as well from that of a former condition of the world which has passed away and has been changed into the present imperfect world. The former is the product of rationalistic speculation; since the time of Leibnitz particularly, it has been assigned a place in so-called natural or rational theology. It is not a product of the religious consciousness, and it at tributes to God such anthropomorphic conceptions as mediate knowledge and alternative choice. The latter doctrine has sprung from the narrative in Genesis and the legendary lore of many peoples; it appears in the story of a prehistoric golden age. On the one hand, as bare history, it could have no dogmatical importance; and, on the other hand, it destroys the entirety of the divine control and preservation of the world, and so is prejudicial against the religious feeling. 2. The Original Perfection of Man As the original perfection of the world is perceived only in reference to man, so the original perfection of man is here considered only in reference to God. The God-consciousness appears in the feeling of absolute dependence. This feeling of absolute dependence, as has been said before, occurs always in connection with the sensuous consciousness; the tendency to the God-consciousness thus appears as a condition in separable from human nature, because this tendency is experienced in the character of a demand upon human nature to rise to that state in which the human soul is conscious of communion with God. Now piety (religion) consists in this, that we are conscious of this tendency as a living impulse issuing from our very nature and constitutive of it in the sense that the destruction of this impulse would be the destruction of our nature. Therefore those states which condition and are involved in the appearing of the God-consciousness throughout the whole life of man after the spiritual (mental) functions are developed, must be essentially involved in human nature. Hence it must be possible for man so to govern the world and appropriate it to the aim of his life that all the impressions he receives from it, whether they offer hindrances or helps to his life, whether they are transformed into intellectual cognitions or merely affect his sensuous nature in feeling, may be so brought into connection with the God-consciousness that it dominates them all. But besides this inner impulse to arrive at the realization of the God-consciousness, and inseparable from it, there is an impulse to externalize this religious feeling, that is, to communicate to others that same religious feeling; and this is the same as to establish a communion (association) among men based upon that religious feeling. With this impulse is involved the adaptability of human nature to circulate and appropriate the religious consciousness. In short, the self-consciousness, which is fundamentally religious, by development necessarily becomes a race-consciousness, and the possibility of this is grounded in human nature itself. Out of this original perfection of human nature proceeds the possibility of the propagation of a specific religious experience, i.e., the possibility of founding a religious communion. But as to the degree in which the religious consciousness has been developed in particular men, that is a matter for the historian and not for the dogmatician. Accordingly all that dogmatics may predicate of primitive man is: since religion is a necessary and universal element of human nature, it must have existed in primitive man to the extent that he was able to communicate it to posterity. Religion must be as old as the human race. When, however, men speak of an "original righteousness" in Adam, they make the mistake of taking as a type of righteousness a mere original capacity for development out of which no positive gain came to mankind since, according to the common view, that "righteousness" was lost; whereas, the true manifestation of righteousness is to be sought in Christ, in whom it came as a gain to all mankind. Summarily then, original perfection pertains to human nature, in that man possesses the original capacity of connecting all his experiences with God, that he is capable of propagating that same religious attitude to all men, and that all men are consequently capable of receiving it (§§ 57-61). __________________________________________________________________ II. THE ANTITHESIS IN THE RELIGIOUS SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS (§§ 62-169) Introductory There is no self-conscious human existence from which the God-consciousness is entirely absent, yet there is no human existence in which this religious feeling constitutes the whole of experience. The sensuous consciousness and the God-consciousness are always combined in some relation to each other. In one case they are so related as to produce an experience of pain, in the other so as to produce pleasure. The former is the pre-Christian state. In it religious feeling has not attained an ascendancy in the activities of life; the God-consciousness is not extinct, but repressed, not entirely wanting, but dominated by sensuous experience. In relation to the God-consciousness our condition is that of dissatisfaction or pain. In the Christian religion, as teleological in character, all experience is judged by its relation to the activities of life. Accordingly, when the Christian looks back to his former state, just described, he regards the repression of the God-consciousness in himself ^s proceeding from his own act and not from an external source; from his present point of view religious feeling in him was subjected to sensuous experience by his own act of alienation from God; that is, he is conscious of it as sin. But now in relation to the God-consciousness his experience is one of enjoyment, pleasure, satisfaction. The God-consciousness has now come to its rightful position of supremacy in the activities of life, and sensuous experiences are subjected to it. He has entered into communion with God. And this turning to God it is impossible for him to refer to his own activity, for alienation from God is his own original act, and if the turning to God were to be referred to the same, then the repression of the religious feeling would be only occasional, and the consciousness of the need of redemption would be only contingent. But it is a fact of Christian experience that the dominancy of the God-consciousness is ascribed to a source outside of one's self, it is a redemption; and this redemption is viewed as an arrangement by the will of God, so that faith in it is a harmony with God's will. Communion with God is the effect of a communication proceeding from Jesus Christ. He is Redeemer in that the control of the activities of life by the God-consciousness is referred to his act. There is no universal God-consciousness without a reference to Christ, nor a relation to Christ which is not referred to the God-consciousness. This is what is meant by the Christian consciousness of Grace--communion with God dependent on a communication from the Redeemer. Consequently, redemption involves the consciousness of sin and the consciousness of grace. These two essential elements of Christian experience are to be understood only in relation to one another. This antithesis in experience never disappears though it is true that the former element, by means of the latter, continually diminishes. As in the pre-Christian state the God-consciousness was not extinct but subjected to sensuous control, so now in the state of grace the consciousness of sin is not extinct but is steadily diminished as the energies of life become increasingly pervaded by the religious consciousness. Doctrines which are specifically Christian must be drawn from the Christian religious consciousness, from the inner experience of Christians. Dogmatics has to do only with this Christian view of sin and grace and does not attempt to construe them in a cosmological, historical, or speculative way. With sin as a world-element, or with conditions antecedent to the appearing of sin or subsequent to its disappearance, or with sin as a metaphysical principle our discipline has nothing to do, because these lie outside the sphere of the religious self-consciousness. Our doctrine of sin must be of sin in relation to grace, and our doctrine of the world, of men, and of God in relation to sin, must be determined by the Christian consciousness of the relation between sin and grace (§§ 62-64). The framework in which the doctrines of sin and grace are to be exhibited will be the same as in Part I, and for a similar reason. __________________________________________________________________ I. FIRST SIDE OF THE ANTITHESIS: UNFOLDING OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF SIN (§§ 65-84) If it be attempted to set forth a doctrine of sin in and for itself, such a doctrine could not form a consistent whole with that, already exhibited, of the religious consciousness in general. First, as man's own act it would appear contradictory to the tendency to the development of the God-consciousness as a living impulse in man, and inconsistent with the original perfection of human nature. Second, since in the state of sin a man exists in his place within the world-whole, then sin, as not proceeding from the divine causality, would destroy the unity and integrity of Nature, because it would be an entity existing in opposition to the divine omnipotence. Third, if it be referred to the divine causality, then, that attribute which represents the divine causality in relation to sin must be out of harmony with other divine attributes, and so the unity of the divine nature would be destroyed. Finally, if sin has developed in man on occasion of receiving impressions from the world, the perfection of the world in relation to man is destroyed. If, therefore, we are to avoid both the Manichaean and Pelagian heresies, which in opposite ways denied the reference of sin to the divine causality, the Christian consciousness must be viewed in its unity, and sin must be considered only in reference to redemption, and only so can it have a place in dogmatics. Section 1. Sin as the State of Man (§§ 66-74) The method adopted in this work requires that sin be treated from the standpoint of the personal consciousness. Sin and the consciousness of sin are not to be separated. It is an experience of the God-consciousness being hindered by sensuousness from controlling the activities of life and it is expressed in a feeling of pain, dissatisfaction. But no activities of life, not even those which are governed by the impulses of religion, are without the appearing of sin in consciousness, at least in germ, in some way--warning, presentiment, self-reproof, regret. Ami so we may say that in all the stages of human development, if we except the states of innocency and obduracy, a strife exists between the lower impulses and the higher--a struggle of flesh and spirit against each other. Thus sin is a historical phenomenon in human consciousness and pertains to all peoples and ages. Its appearance indeed is the outcome of the perpetuation in some degree of an earlier sensuous state in which the higher functions of human nature had not yet been differentiated. Now, were the development of the capacities of human nature regular and unbroken, there would be no consciousness of the repression of the higher spiritual nature by the lower and sensuous; if the normal unfolding of the judgment were always accompanied by a parallel development of the powers of will, then there would be no consciousness of the control of spirit by flesh, no consciousness of sin, or, to state it in equivalent terms, no sin. But as a matter of fact judgment and will power are unevenly developed. Of that we are conscious as sin, and this very sin-consciousness is conditioned by the presence of the higher, the religious, consciousness. Therefore sin does not annul the original perfection of man. But for that original perfection there could be no sin. Sin is conditioned by the very capacity for the development of the God-consciousness: a bad conscience would be an impossibility but for the persistent consciousness of a something better. Yet it is the outcome of his former undeveloped sensuous state before the God-consciousness appeared. But, on the other hand, sin is not conformable with that original perfection of human nature. Were it so, i.e., were it only a consciousness which we have of good, yet lacking when individual acts and states are held in mind, sin would be unavoidable. But this would be incompatible with the redemption, for we may feel the need of redemption and may be capable of receiving it only in case sin is unavoidable. There fore the defect of will-power in comparison with the judgment must be viewed as a confusion and damage produced in our nature. And since it is the Christian redemption which gives validity to the consciousness of sin (for sin is only in relation to redemption), the clear and full consciousness of sin cannot arise out of the precepts of the law, but from the appearing in history of a God-consciousness which developed to an absolute strength, i.e., from the manifestation in history of a sinlessly developed human perfection, which is seen in the person of the Redeemer. If this had not appeared in him, there could be no hope that it could ever appear in us. While, however, it is true that we come to a consciousness of sin in connection with personal activities and as our own act, when the self-consciousness widens itself from the individual to the family, from the family to the state, and from the state to the race (for the self-consciousness in its widest range is a race-consciousness), the race-consciousness is seen to involve a sin-consciousness. Hence the final ground of sin is to be found, beyond the individual personal consciousness, in the race. Accordingly sin is to be considered first, as hereditary, and second, as empirical or actual. 1. Hereditary Sin There is, then, a sinfulness already present in every man before he commits acts of sin, and coming from a source beyond his own individual existence. But in what does this sinfulness consist? It must consist in a relation to the possession of the God-consciousness as the good of man. It is not, there fore, something of positive nature in itself, but a defect consisting in a total inability to bring the activities of one's nature under the control of the religious feeling, Not that a total incapacity in relation thereto, and so a total absence of all good, is thereby presupposed, for the redemption and the preaching of it imply such a capacity as the indispensable condition of its effectuation, and without it salvation would be such a total remaking of human nature as would render redemption unmeaning; or, were it impossible to remove that inability entirely, sin would be some thing infinite in itself and the redemption impossible. That capacity to receive the God-consciousness is, then, not: a good in itself, but a good in relation to the redemption and, as we shall see, the product of it; and so it cannot be reckoned in any sense as personal righteousness. That good in human nature is, however, only receptive, and human activity cannot supply to that capacity a positive good. But can there be personal guilt in relation to that which comes from beyond the individual himself? Not if this original sin fulness be sundered from connection with the actual sins in which it appears and be viewed as a something existing in itself. But that would remove it beyond the range of Christian piety (which is ever teleological), and therefore beyond the range of dogmatics. The guilt of sin is the individual's because the act of sin is his, but the guilt is not the isolated individual's, for the individual cannot be isolated. The self-consciousness in its full significance is a race-consciousness. The whole race is a unity, the constituent members of which propagate their activity everywhere and at all times. Every individual act of sin is, on the one hand, caused by other sins and, on the other hand, causative of other sins, it is both propagated by antecedent sin fulness and propagates sinfulness. The consciousness of sinfulness is a common, universal consciousness. The individual thus represents the whole race both in space and time; his act is the act of the race and his guilt a race guilt. (This is the truth which is relatively described in the common theological terms, reatus, corruptio naturae, vitium originis, morbus originis, etc.) From the standpoint of the self-consciousness widened to a race-consciousness, the race-consciousness is a sin-consciousness. Yet the tendency to the God-consciousness is never wanting and the effort to realize it never vanishes. In this effort conjoined with a sense of helpfulness against the power of the flesh, there arises an anticipation of help coming from without--of redemption. As the guilt is a race-guilt, so we shall see the redemption is a race-redemption. But the common doctrine that universal sin fulness in the race is the product of an alteration of human nature effected by an act of our first parents cannot be accepted. For if Adam's nature before the fall were different from his nature afterward and from universal human nature now; then, in the first place, the unity of the race would be destroyed and there could be no race-consciousness; and, in the second place, it involves the impossible assumption that an individual can so operate upon his own nature and that of all succeeding generations as to destroy it. The impossibility of accounting in this way for the change appears in the attempts of theologians to account for the first sin by attributing it to unbelief, pride, lust, ambition, etc., all of which presuppose it. And this failure is inevitable since no individual can act from outside his own nature, but only within it. Or else such attempts involve the assumption of a hopelessly bad being, the devil, and so lead to Manichaeism. We cannot accept the unity of the race except on the ground of a common consciousness. Consequently Adam's nature was related to his own sin in the same way as our nature to our sin. The derivation of our sinfulness from a first individual act of sin committed by our first parents can never be an element of our redemption- faith, and a natural and unprejudiced exegesis of those passages of Scripture which are supposed to support that view will yield no such result. (See Rom. 5:12-21; I Cor. 15:21, 22; II Cor. ii 13.) The same is true of the Traducianist and the Covenant theory. The Mosaic narrative cannot be viewed as a historical account of the first act of sin; its value lies in its universally representative character. Wherefore the inborn sinfulness must have existed in the race from the very commencement. Apart from this there could be no universal capacity for redemption. "Sin in general and especially original sin' is the joint act and the joint-guilt of the whole race" (§§ 70-72). 2. Actual Sin That hereditary sin is ever breaking forth in actual sin is an expression of the Christian consciousness. For first, the clearness with which we perceive that we are never free from sin is proportioned to the clearness with which the Redeemer is presented to our self-consciousness; and second, our consciousness of sin is not empirical or contingent, but universal and necessary. That is, it is not as isolated individuals we are conscious of sinning, but as a constituent part of the totality of mankind, and hence we are as certain that others constantly commit sin as we are of our own sinning. Thus the consciousness of universal sinfulness and of universal sinning are the same viewed from different points; were they really separable, our tendency to sin would be nothing actual, and our sinning would be traceable to external influences. Consequently, within the whole range of sinful humanity no activity is ever exerted in which the God-consciousness is pure and unopposed, and there is no form of sin which any man in himself is incapable of committing. Apart from their relation to the redemption, there are no distinctions of worthiness among men in respect to sin, all appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. When, for example, one man appears better than another on the ground of possessing a more powerful religious consciousness, on the other hand he must appear worse, so soon as we consider that the actual sins he does commit indicate a stronger opposition to the spirit on the part of the flesh. The disposition to separate ourselves as better than others disappears with a vivid conception of the person of the Redeemer, for with it we become vividly conscious of our implication in the universal sinfulness and equally conscious that the Redeemer stands out of connection with it. But there is a distinction between men according as they partake of the Redeemer's God-consciousness or are destitute of it. In all men the God-consciousness and the sin-consciousness so exist, only in the case of the redeemed the God-consciousness gradually prevails over the sin-consciousness, rendering all the activities of the nature good; while in the case of the unredeemed the case is the reverse. Hence the sins of the redeemed are pardonable because they are the reaction from a sinful state whose power is diminishing and finally to disappear, and therefore they tend not to multiply or to reproduce themselves in other people; while with the sins of the unredeemed the case is the reverse. With the former good works are prevalent, while their sins are, as it were, the shadows of the sins of their earlier state; but with the latter sinful works are prevalent, while their good deeds are the still remaining, but gradually diminishing, anticipations of a better state, the reflection only of what is a living power in others (§§ 73-75). Section 2. The Nature of the World in Relation to Sin: Doctrine of Evil (§§ 75-78) Since a doctrine of the world has a place in dogmatics only in so far as regards the world's relations to man, there can be no discussion here of sin as affecting the constituent elements of the world, but only of the relations which exist between man and the world on account of sin. Those relations may be comprehended in the two statements: that on account of sin the world appears different to man, and that the effect of sin is to destroy the original harmony between man and the world. According to the doctrine, al ready set forth, of the original perfection of man and of the world, human life is not opposed or hindered in the exercise of its energies by the forces of nature, but all that is in the world in its operation upon human nature, even when it produces weakness, sickness, and death, must be promotive of the higher consciousness, the religious life. But whenever in experience the flesh prevails over the spirit (i.e., when sin enters into the life) then these things appear as opposed to the development of human energies, that is, they appear as evil. In this respect we may speak of natural evil in the world. But evil is also social (a preferable expression to "moral" evil, which includes the bad) in that the operations of sin in one individual become productive of evil to others. Thus sin and evil are correlated. The human race is the locus of sin; sin is, in its totality, the act of the race. Correspondingly, the whole world in relation to men is the locus of evil and evil in its totality constitutes the suffering of the entire race. Sin and evil are therefore related to each other as cause and effect. To reverse this relation and make evil the cause of sin is to contradict the teleological nature of Christianity, to turn ethic into aesthetic, and to deny the Christian conception of God. Evil is the effect, and, as referred to the divine causality (for it cannot be referred to the operation of any being or force outside of God), the punishment of sin--social evil, immediately, on account of the directness of men's relations to one another, and natural evil, mediately. But this is incapable of application to the individual in his isolation from the rest of mankind. For as sin, properly understood, is the act of the race in its entirety, and as the guilt is a race-guilt, so also evil in its totality is the punishment of the race in its unity. Otherwise the true conception of the relation between sin and evil would be found in that of heathenism, and, in a degree, of Judaism--namely, that magical view which represents suffering and misfortune as punishment for the individual's sins--which would make vicarious suffering an impossibility. Section 3. The Attributes of God Which are Related to the Consciousness of Sin (§§ 70-85) In the religious consciousness all experience is referred to the absolute causality of God; therefore sin and evil as elements of that consciousness imply divine attributes which are comprehended in the divine causality or omnipotence. For us sin exists as a universal fact of consciousness. Therefore there is a sense in which God is the author of sin; but, on the other hand, in the Christian consciousness sin and grace are antithetical, and therefore, if there is not an antithesis within the divine nature, God cannot be the author of sin in the same sense in which he is the author of grace. Now it has been shown that neither sin nor grace exists in and for itself but each only in relation to the other; both are implicated in redemption. The solution of the difficulty in connection with the reference of sin to God cannot, therefore, be found by making a distinction between God's permission and God's decree, for these are equivalent to his preservation and creation, which for the religious consciousness are the same. But the solution is found thus: In redemption there is the consciousness of special divine communication in regard to sin--a communication of power to overcome it. But with the reception of this communication the sin-consciousness does not disappear instantaneously, but only gradually, and therefore to our actual experience never entirely. It is, therefore, God's will that sin should gradually be banished through grace, but this is to say that it is God's will that sin should exist (for us, not for him), else the redemption could not occur. So that the conclusion of the matter is: God is the author of sin, but the author of sin only in the sense that it should exist as gradually disappearing in the presence of grace. The Pelagian attempts at a solution by attributing sin and grace, as regards the exertion of energy in them, to man alone, abandons a practical (ethico-religious) interest, which postulates the impartation of a perfectly pure moral impulse, in the divine omnipotence to a theoretical interest, which advocates a similar relation to God on the part of all forms of living activity; for the denial of the operation of divine causality in redemption makes the redemption a mere seeming. The Manichaeans, on the contrary, sacrifice the theoretical interest to the practical by confining the exercise of divine causality to grace and denying it to sin (which supposes the operation of another will independently of the divine and limiting its operation), so that the feeling of absolute dependence, and with it, the absolute divine causality, is lost. Hence if we are not, with the Manichaeans, to ascribe to sin an existence in itself, independent and op posed to God; or, with the Pelagians, to minimize and gradually annul the antithesis of sin and grace, the ecclesiastical doctrine that God is not the author of sin but that it is founded in human freedom, needs amendment. For while it is true that every act of sin is the definite act of the individual himself and is neither to be charged to a nature which is common to all men nor to other individuals, yet human freedom, to be real, must be grounded in the divine causality, and consequently human sin, if it be mere appearance, must have the same ground. The consciousness of sin, and therefore sin itself, pertains to the truth of our existence--but only in relation to redemption. The consciousness of sin is the consciousness of an opposition to the divine will that is to be removed. These conditions, namely, that the God-consciousness is to be developed in men through the gradual annulling of an opposition in man to the divine will, have themselves been appointed by God. For an absolute contradiction to the will of God, i.e., absolute obduracy, does not pertain to human existence. That is, God has ordered sin as that which makes the redemption necessary. Sin is ordered of God because otherwise the redemption also could not be ordered of him, and, therefore, not sin in-and-for-itself, but sin in reference to the redemption. . . . . It is ordered of God that natural imperfections should be apprehended by us as evil in the measure in which the God-consciousness is not yet dominant in us (82:2). Or, if we may distinguish between God's commanding will which requires the absolute control of all energies by the religious feeling, and God's producing will, in accordance with which the power of the God-consciousness is only gradually realized and therefore always defective in actuality, then we may say, God has ordered that that defect in the lordship of the spirit over the flesh should be sin to us, i.e., that it should produce in us a consciousness of the need of redemption. From this the doctrine of evil follows naturally. Sin being the joint guilt of the race, evil is its joint punishment. Evil is thus produced by human freedom, but is grounded ultimately in the divine causality. But evil is not in-and-for-itself, but only in reference to sin, as sin also is only in reference to the redemption. Consequently evil becomes a source of a stimulus to the consciousness of the need of redemption. Other wise evil would seem to be joined to sin by arbitrary divine determination. Since all divine attributes must be viewed as modes of the divine causality, and sin and evil are ultimately grounded in the divine causality, the divine attributes which correspond with sin and evil will be the divine holiness and righteousness. 1. God is Holy Those actions which flow from the God-consciousness possess such a worth in our self-consciousness that every deviation from them in action is apprehended as a limitation of life, i.e., as sin. The activity of the self-consciousness as the apprehension of this inequality of judgment and will is what we mean by conscience. Without this inequality there would not be conscience, and without conscience the acts which result from this inequality would not be sin. Sin therefore, as the universal human state of the need of redemption, implies the activity of conscience in all mankind. This is the purely Christian expression of the need of redemption, but it is in nowise to be under stood as if we would admit the existence of conscience only when the need of redemption is acknowledged. To put it differently: implicated in the consciousness of sin by conscience is the apprehension of the divine causality as legislative for all mankind; this legislative divine causality is what we mean by holiness; holiness in God Is that attribute whose reflection is conscience in man. The usual and popular definition of holiness in the liturgical and homiletical field to the effect that it is the divine pleasure in the good and displeasure with the bad, assuming as it does that "good" and "bad" are to be understood as the actions of finite free beings, is open to the objection that it implies passivity in God, and since a state of God is thus determined by human actions he is placed in a relation of reciprocity with men. Such a static attribute of God is no predicate of our religious consciousness (§ 83). 2. God is Righteous Similarly the righteousness of God is that attribute which corresponds to our consciousness of the connection between actual sins and evil. Evil is indeed the effect of the universal sin fulness, as has been shown; but evil is apprehended as evil, i.e., as punishment of sin, only in and with the consciousness of actual sin. But with this consciousness of actual sin is involved the universal sin fulness of man and hence universal desert of punishment in man. Hence the divine righteousness is the divine causality apprehended as producing in the human soul the consciousness of the desert of punishment. And as the idea of desert of punishment, or the idea of evil as necessarily connected with sin, has meaning only in reference to the redemption, so also it is only in reference to the redemption that the divine righteousness is fully to be understood. If it be objected that this definition makes no room in the idea of righteousness for the reward of well doing, among other things we may say in reply that the Christian consciousness admits no actual rewards but regards all rewards as undeserved and therefore referable to the divine grace. Our exposition brings out the truth that the divine holiness and righteousness cohere but at the same time are differentiated (§§ 84, 85). __________________________________________________________________ II. THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ANTITHESIS: UNFOLDING OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF GRACE ( 86-169) Introductory While the consciousness of sin is a personal experience, it relates not merely to the individual but embraces the collective life of mankind. It is as a member of the body of humanity, as a participant in its common life, that he is conscious of sin and unblessedness. To this universal condition testify the confessions, offerings, purifications, and penances in all religions. While these are usually aimed at the avoidance of punishment rather than the extinction of sin their inevitable failure to remove unhappiness amounts to an expression of an inclination toward Christianity as that religion in which is found a Redeemer in whom appears the substance instead of the shadow. Moral development of the peoples tends in the same direction, because with moral progress there is a sharpening and intensification of the dissatisfaction connected with moral failure. And although for the distinctively Christian consciousness there is an acknowledgment of the unavoidability of sin and an assurance of its gradual disappearance, these convictions are the outcome of the growing power of the God-consciousness and are consequently accompanied by a more painful sense of the need of redemption and of the hopelessness of its removal by the personal efforts of men, because these efforts must partake of the sinful character of that common life of humanity from which they issue. Hence in Christianity the pre-eminent worth of redemption and the supreme place of the Redeemer. The Christian experience of a growing dominancy of the God-consciousness and, in the same degree, of a growing blessedness, is not owing to any definite form of activity or of conditions, such as devout meditation or ascetic practices (for these have content of happiness only in so far as they contribute to the performance of those activities which one's vocation calls for), but it is owing to participation in a new community which springs from the divine operation. That is to say, the Kingdom of God has come and the collective life of this new community constitutes it. This new life in men is by faith referred to Jesus Christ as its author, which is the same as to say that in him the kingdom of God appears. This Christian experience has indeed its source in Christ, but it never exists apart from the Christian community. The acceptance of the former with a denial of the latter involves separatism and fanaticism and is destructive of the essence of Christianity, because, in supposing that an individual could have, as it were, Christ for himself alone, it annuls the definite historical continuity of Christianity and renders an actual propagation of the activity of Christ impossible. The reverse attitude, i.e., the acceptance of the communal character of Christianity, with a denial of the necessity of a reference to Christ personally, makes his historical appearance only a link in a chain of prophets, supposes that the new community could arise out of the old sinful collective life of humanity, and involves a denial of the universality of sin. It is to say, as does the Roman Catholic church in effect, that Christ is Redeemer because the church has constituted him such. If we ask: In what way specifically is the redemption wrought by Christ? the answer is: By an impartation of his sinless perfection through the communion founded by him. The affirmation that Jesus possessed sinless perfection does not admit of proof in the ordinary sense. The Scripture proof fails because, uncertainties of meaning aside, all it can show is that this was the original form of Christian faith. The proof by reference to miracles and prophecies fails because it could only show how the primitive Christian faith arose and, besides, it is purely external. Our proposition is not to be understood as equivalent to an assertion that at a time when the consciousness of sin both as personal and collective was powerful in many men, all that was necessary was that a moral pre-eminence should fitly exhibit itself in a public life in order to bring about an ascription to such an. individual of the desired sinless perfection as the only possible succor of men. For this is as if it were said that faith had constituted Jesus the Redeemer. It would involve a gradual diminution of the certainty of his value as we become farther removed from the original impression of his person, and it would make room for the expectation of another to whom that perfection might be ascribed more worthily. But our meaning is that the acknowledgment of that perfection is the work of Jesus himself and that out of that acknowledgment arises the new collective life which is therefore founded by Jesus; the action of this new communion reproduces the same faith and is itself therefore just the operation within the communion of that personal perfection of Jesus. If it be objected that an impartation of sinless perfection through a body, in every member of which there are manifestations of the universal sinfulness, is impossible, the answer is: these manifestations are the still remaining expression of that collective life which was controlled by sin before the new life appeared in the midst of it, and the impartation of the absolutely powerful God-consciousness in Christ (in the historical Christian communion) is as yet inner experience received by an impression from without. In regard to this experience there are two statements to be made: (1) from the image of Christ, which subsists in that Christian society with which the individual comes into contact, as its collective act and its collective possession, he receives an impression of the sinless perfection of Christ which, on the one hand, gives rise to a perfect consciousness of sin in himself, and, on the other hand, removes his unblessedness; (2) within this Christian society, in spite of all its errors and sinful manifestations, there is an ever-working inner impulse toward the true and good; this is from Christ, and in spite of all reactions will ever increasingly manifest itself outwardly. These two elements constitute a true impartation of the perfection of Christ. The existence of this illimitable power of the God-consciousness in Christ and its operation within the human race may be regarded as supernatural or as natural, according to the point of view taken. In view of the human race constituting a collective life which naturally propagates sin, this communication coming from a power without it is a supernatural work. But in relation to the Redeemer himself the existence of this new collective life is no miracle but the normal working of that supernatural power in its assumption of natural ethical forms and in its appropriation to itself of the material surrounding it. Similarly of the individual's transition from the old collective life into the new; in relation to his former life the change is of supernatural origin, because it arises from a source beyond that old life; but in respect to the new life it is a natural event because it is its normal mode of activity. In the initiative divine activity is the supernatural, but by virtue of the living human receptivity the supernatural takes on historical, natural form. But the perfect connection between the old stage of human existence and the new stage brought in by the advent of the Redeemer lies only in the unity of the divine thought. Now sin, in and for itself, is non-existent for God and no object of his counsel; so also a redemption merely in reference to sin can be no object of the divine counsel. But since sin consists in the inability to realize the God-consciousness, therefore the sin-consciousness (which has been shown already to be one with sin) as a necessary condition of the receptivity of the God-consciousness is a good in relation to the highest development of human nature. Without it there would have been no living receptivity for the impartation of Jesus gift. Without it that full development of man which appears in the perfect ascendancy of the God-consciousness in the self-consciousness would not take place; and hence, redemption from sin may be designated as the completion of the creation of human nature. But this means that Christ, by virtue of that absolutely powerful God-consciousness which is his original endowment, enters with creative power into the course of human history to stimulate human nature to a perfect consciousness of its sinfulness and to an assimilation of his own perfection. With the bringing of his activity under the law of human development there is assured its gradual extension over the whole race. And since to the religious consciousness creation and preservation are at bottom equivalents, we conclude that the whole race of man has been ordered and preserved with reference to the impartation of the sinless perfection of Christ--the whole race from the beginning has a relation to the Redeemer. The unfolding of the consciousness of grace in the same framework as was used for the unfolding of the consciousness of sin will accordingly complete the dogmatic (§§ 86-90). Section I. The State of the Christian so Far as He Is Conscious of Divine Grace (§§ 91-112) In all the various forms of Christianity the fundamental element of every Christian's consciousness of grace is that of fellowship with God only in a life-fellowship with Christ of such a sort that in our need of redemption we are freely receptive to his free self-originated activity in the communication of his absolutely sinless perfection and blessedness. These two elements, Christ's activity and our receptivity thereto, will yield for us a discussion of the manner in which the Redeemer and the redeemed appear in the Christian consciousness of grace, in two divisions. In the first division will appear those propositions concerning Christ which are immediate expressions of this consciousness of grace; and in the second, those propositions which describe the relation between grace and the state of sin in the human soul, as that relation is mediated by Christ. FIRST DIVISION: DOCTRINE OF CHRIST (§§ 92-105) In the doctrine of Christ we may take our starting-point either from his person or from his activity. These are inseparable and each finds in the other its full expression. It is in respect of his work that we treat him as Redeemer; we set him over against all other men in such a way that their conscious blessed relation to God is ascribed solely to him as the author of it and not in any degree to themselves or others. But this is to ascribe an exclusive and absolute dignity to his person. Or, if we regard him as the one in whom the creation of human nature is perfected, we then ascribe to him a quality which is not the product of his environment, or which he owes to the developed insight of those who so regard him, but which, on the contrary, is itself the secret of their personal development. But this is to assign an absolute and exclusive value to his activity. Thus his person and his work correspond in value. We are not to conceive of a dignity of his person which is not fully exhibited in his activity, nor of an exhibition of activity which has its spring in any degree outside of himself. However, in deference to current ecclesiastical formulae, we may treat of his person and of his work separately. Our method will be to exhibit these, first, as related to the individual, and then, as related to the church, which must be the perfect revelation of the worth of the Redeemer, just as the universe is a perfect revelation of the attributes of God. 1. The Person of Christ The Christian communion as a union of men produced through participation in a common religious life, as a union moreover into which all other religious associations are destined to pass, finds that life entirely in Christ, and owes the exercise of all its activities to him as their source. Accordingly the worth of the Redeemer must be so conceived as to account for this effect. This religious energy, i.e., the power of the God-consciousness, must have existed in him in a perfect archetypal form and must have determined the character of all the activities of his life, none of them being destitute of it or possessing it imperfectly, and thus the communion-forming activity of Christ is manifested, not in special acts, but in the entire course of his career. Since it is in the Christian communion the activity of Christ is exercised, that communion must be a perfect embodiment of the energy resident in him. If it be objected that in the Christian communion the religious condition is never absolutely perfect, but is ever in need of development, and that, therefore, it is not necessary to attribute to the Redeemer such an archetypal character, but only such a character as served for the prefiguration of the end which the communion ever strives to attain; and hence that such ascriptions of dignity to Christ are only the hyperbole of believers, we reply: If this were the case, with the widening of the personal self-consciousness to a race-consciousness, i.e., so as to include the whole race, there must arise a hope and expectation of some time surpassing Christ, at least in the case of the noblest of its members; but as a matter of fact such a hope never has arisen and never could arise without destroying that very communion whose development is sup posed to produce the hope; and further, if this absolutely perfect religious energy did not exist in Christ, it would be impossible to account for the possession of such an archetype by the Christian communion. It can have arisen within the religious consciousness in no other way than through the exhibition of it in a historical, personal life. If it be further objected that the imperfect human conditions, the unperfected state of language, of science, etc., in which Christ's life was lived, rendered the appearing of such an archetype impossible and that he must constitute only a link, though an important one, in that gradual, continuous religious evolution which can be traced from early Jewish life, we may reply; At that rate Christ would be only a more or less original and revolutionary reformer of Jewish law and such a new communion as has actually arisen would be impossible; and further, since in such a case his life could only have been the product of that general sinful life of which men universally partake, the experience of redemption through him could never have occurred and the claim of Christianity finally to draw all other religions to itself and to develop out of itself ever-increasing perfection and blessedness could never have arisen. The only possible explanation of the appearing of Christ in the sphere of human life is that it was a miraculous manifestation; his personal spiritual life sprang by a creative divine act from the universal fountain of spiritual life, so that the idea of man, as the subject of the God-consciousness found in him historically an absolute realization. Or to state it differently: From his birth onward, along with the gradual unfolding of his natural powers, the God-consciousness possessed absolute control over the energies of his being. On the one hand, this makes it impossible that there should ever have arisen within him the slightest trace of a sin-consciousness or an inner moral conflict or uncertainty. On the other hand, his physical and mental equipment must have been conditioned by the age and the environment, otherwise we must attribute to him an empirical omniscience and omnipotence which would be fatal to the historical character of his life. Hence the appearing of Christ in the world was both absolutely miraculous and perfectly natural. The Redeemer, then, possessed sameness of nature with all other men. His freedom from sin does not annul his perfect identity with the race, since, as we have seen, sin does not pertain to the essence (Wesen) of man, but is rather a destruction of his nature, as is implied in the very consciousness of sin as guilt. Yet his activity, or the peculiar personal worth which conditioned it, is not thereby compromised or made attributable to other men. Faith in Christ implies that he held such a relation to the human race as none other could have, i.e., owing to the absolute power of the God-consciousness in him, his person was archetypal, which is the same as to say that God was present in him as a person. We cannot speak with truth of the presence of God in any individual thing or in man but only of his presence in the world. Not in any individual thing, for this would imply division in God. Not in man, for neither man's activity nor his rational thought in its attempts to present a pure and true conception of God, is free from sensuousness. Consequently we are not able to sec in unconscious nature or conscious rational life a revelation of God unless we have first seen it in Christ, in whom the God-consciousness was present as his own personal being and innermost self. And since it is only through him that the God-consciousness comes to possess others, and since, further, it is only in reference to man that the world can be said to contain a revelation of God, we can say that all revelation of God in man and in the world is mediated through Christ. But if, on the other hand, he shared in common with us the whole process of natural human development, yet without being involved in human sin, the beginning of his life must be regarded as an original act of human nature, i.e., an act of human nature as not affected by sin. And thence onward to the completion of his life there must have been such a filling of his nature with the God-consciousness as completely exhausted human receptivity. Therefore we may regard the beginning of Christ's life as the perfected creation of human nature. As the creation of the first Adam constituted the self-propagating physical nature of man, so the appearing of the second Adam constituted for the same human nature its new self-propagating spiritual life. Both rest on one indivisible, eternal, divine decree, and they form in the higher sense one and the same (though beyond the grasp of our thought) coherent unitary Nature. Proceeding from this standpoint, the current doctrinal formulae, which in large measure have arisen from speculative, apologetic, and polemic interests, may be subjected to critical treatment and restatement. 1. "In Jesus Christ the divine nature and human nature were united in one person." The aim of those passages in the historic creeds which so describe the Redeemer is doubtless to inculcate the possibility of a communion between him and us in the new common life which he originated, and at the same time to express the being of God in him; from which follows that in our relation to him unlimited veneration for him and brotherly fellowship with him are combined. But the terms of the creedal statement are open to criticism: First, the name Jesus Christ is used to designate not only the subject of the union of the two natures but also the divine nature of the Redeemer before its union with the human; so that the union appears no longer as a moment (potency) constituting the person Jesus Christ, but rather as the act of this person himself. Whereas, in the New Testament the name Jesus Christ is used only of the subject of this union. Second, the use of the term nature in reference to both the divine and the human is confusing. Besides, the terms God and nature represent opposite conceptions in our thought. Nature properly denotes the sum of finite existences, the manifold phenomenal world in contrast with the unconditional and the absolutely simple. We cannot use the term natural properly of God. The creeds betray here the play of heathen ideas. Third, the creedal statement implies a relation between nature and person opposed to general usage. For while usage allows the ascription of the same nature to several individuals or persons, here one person has two entirely different natures. Now person properly denotes a life-unity and nature the general content of his modes of action, or the law of the interaction of the conditions of life within a definite realm. But how can there be a unity of life with a duality of natures, especially since one has a large sphere and the other a small? Between them the self-identical ego is lost. It is impossible for the mind to construe the figure of such a person. The outcome is either the melting of the two natures into a third, which is neither divine nor human, for the sake of maintaining the unity of the person; or the separation of the natures at the cost of neglecting the person; or the subordination of one nature to the other. The history of the subject exhibits all these results. Fourth, the question whether Christ had two wills is inevitably raised. If he had only the human will, then the divine nature is abbreviated, or if only the divine, then the human nature is abbreviated. But if he had two wills, the unity of the person would be unreal; and, further, since understanding and will cannot be conceived as independent, the question of the duality of the under standing is involved. Fifth, the formula quoted does not harmonize with the same creedal statement of the doctrine of the Trinity which abandons the unity of person for the sake of unity of "essence." And when we ask how the divine "nature" in Christ relates itself to the divine "essence," no answer is possible. It is evident that the creedal statement carries us far away from the religious interest into hair-splitting and speculation. Its practical use in the church is small indeed. There is here offered as a substitute for it the following: The Redeemer is like all men in the possession of the same human nature, but distinguished from all men through the absolute power of the God-consciousness which constituted a personal existence of God in him. In him the human was the perfect organ for the reception and presentation of the divine. All that was human in him came forth from the divine. In this sense may be justified the statement: In the Redeemer God became man. 2. "In the uniting of the divine nature with the human, the divine alone was active or self-communicative and the human only passive or receptive, but during the continuance of the union every activity was common to both." The object in making special mention of a beginning of Christ's existence was to exclude the idea of a something subsequently added to him--which would be an injury to faith in his person. But since we are not immediately affected by the beginning of his existence the formula involves a work of supererogation. Further, the beginning and the continuance of Christ's existence constitute a unity. The beginning of his personal existence is the beginning of his activity and every moment (potency) in his activity, so far as it can be regarded apart, is at the same time a new becoming of his peculiar personality. The idea that the divine nature took up the human into the unity of its person is objectionable, not only because of the impropriety of the expression, "divine nature," but particularly because it makes the personality of Christ entirely independent of the personality of the second person of the Trinity, with which it is nevertheless regarded as identical. The view is not distinct from Sabellianism, and it is unfair to all those views which approach Sabellianism to connect this formula with the doctrine of three persons in one essence. Historically a knowledge of the doctrine of the Trinity had no connection with that original impression of the personality of Christ which produced the first disciples faith or with their apprehension of him in thought. Moreover, since human nature can become a person only in the same sense in which persons exist in the Trinity, then the three persons in the divine essence must be, like human persons, separate self-existences, or else the human personality of Christ becomes unreal. The Docetism of the formula also appears in the putting of the human into a passive condition in the beginning of Christ's personal existence, which is yet not the case with the beginning of any other personal existence. But if he was a perfect human person, the formation of this person must have been an act of human nature. The contradictions inherent in this formula have given rise to the scholastic doctrine of the impersonality of the human nature of Christ previous to its union with the divine, and the doctrine of the supernatural generation of Christ. The former, while aimed at refuting the view of those who held that the Word was united with Christ after he had become a human personality, is guilty of making the human in Christ less perfect than it is in us. The latter is entangled in the difficulties arising from the varying representations in the New Testament Scriptures and falls back upon a doctrine of the Scriptures. Its dogmatic value could be only in relation to the question of hereditary sin and the implanting of the divine in human nature. Christ's freedom from the universal state of sin would not be secured by the exclusion of the male from the act of procreation; it would also necessitate absolute purity in all the woman's progenitors, and so annul the universal sinfulness. The doctrine is connected with asceticism. That part of the creedal statement .which draws a distinction between the divine activity in the act of union and the subsequent divine activities treats divine activity as temporal and so brings God into the sphere of antithesis. All that is meant to be gained in the above statement and in the doctrine that the union was personal is secured by our statement that the person of Christ was the product of an original divine creative act the separate momenta of which appeared in his human development. In Christ the creation of humanity was perfected. 3. "Christ was distinct from all other men through his essential sinlessness and his absolute perfection." By essential is to be understood that which has its ground in the inner character of his personality, namely, the conjunction of the divine and the human in his person. Inasmuch as liability to temptation and error seems to be hereby denied, it is difficult to construe the statement in relation to his feelings and thoughts without annulling his sameness of nature with us. With this doctrine the idea of the natural immortality of Christ is connected; it is not, however, embodied in any of the symbols of the faith or grounded in any biblical passage, but it rests upon the opinion that death is the penalty of sin. But, in accordance with the view of evil already presented, we can accept this idea no farther than to say that for Christ death was no evil. His immortality is given him in his resurrection. Natural inability to die denies natural capacity to suffer. If this doctrine is meant to conserve the view of Christ's death as proceeding from his own free will, it necessitates a miracle on Christ's part so as to make himself mortal in order to be killed, and so virtually makes him a suicide. The predicate of absolute perfection adds nothing which may not be referred to the union of the divine with human nature. We may say only this, that just as the Redeemer could appear first only at a certain time and only from a certain people; so also the divine activity would not have laid hold on human nature to constitute a human personality by any such act as could involve in any way a malformation. In regard to his body all that can be posited is that it must have been a suitable organ of that union of the divine and the human. The events of Christ's resurrection and ascension, as well as the promise of his return to judgment, are to be excluded from forming a part of the doctrine of his person, because they do not come into direct relation to faith in him nor could such visible events have any connection with his elevation to spiritual lordship or with his redeeming power; but they depend upon a doctrine of the records. Therefore they cannot be an expression of the religious consciousness of redemption or represented as constitutive of his redeeming activity. Christ's promised continual presence and his continuous influence upon his disciples are not mediated by these events, for their faith in him was prior to any expectation of such occurrences; so also with many Christians since. The ascension served only contingently for the accomplishment of the seating at God's right hand, and this, again, is only an expression of the peculiar and incomparable worth of Christ; and the promise of the return served in like manner for the satisfaction of the longing to be united with Christ. But the important point is: Faith in Jesus has not arisen from particular statements about Christ or acts of his, but from the total impression of his person; from which follows only this, that no individual events appear which could prevent that faith (§§ 93-99). 2. The Work of Christ It has been pointed out that the dignity of the person of Christ and the value of his work are religiously equivalents. The worth of his person consists in the absolute power of the God-consciousness in him, as an original possession. However, it possesses that worth for us, not as a mere object of our contemplation, but because this consciousness is self-communicating, and so passes to us. The expression and impartation of this God-consciousness is rendered possible by the original perfection of man and of the world. His work, then, is summed up in his self-communication, and it may be regarded either from the point of view of the Redeemer's activity, or from that of the experience (reception) of it by the redeemed. The latter will be dealt with in the section which treats of the manner in which communion with the Redeemer is expressed in the soul of the individual. The former will be treated here. A. The possession by Christ of the God-consciousness to the degree that it had absolute control of all his energies involves his sinless perfection and blessedness. By the impartation of that God-consciousness to men, they obtain a communion with him in that perfection and blessedness. That is to say, they obtain redemption and reconciliation. 1) Redemption.--The personal consciousness of the individual is a consciousness of sin and imperfection, and all his activities bear that stamp; but when through our relation to Christ we have a participation in his consciousness, sin is regarded by us, just as it was by him in his sympathy with us, not as constituting our fundamental character, but as an alien element to be overcome. Thus Christ has taken us up into a participation in his activity which constitutes the state of grace, and henceforward all our activities are to be regarded as his activity in us. Or, to state it conversely, the advancement of our higher life is the act of the Redeemer, now become our personal act. This expresses the Christian consciousness- of grace. The impartation of his God-consciousness to us is an act of self-revelation, and our conscious need and acceptance thereof is effected in us by his working upon us. Now, if the personality of the Redeemer is owing to an original creative act of God, so that we may say that God was personally present in him and that all his activities proceeded from the being of God in him, then the penetration of our nature by the activity of the Redeemer must likewise constitute the being of Christ in us and form us into a new personality (cf. Gal. 2:20; Rom. 8:10; John 17:23; II Cor. 13:6; Rom. 6:2, 6, 11; I Pet. 2:24; Col. 3:10; Eph. 4:22, 24). Thenceforth all impressions upon us are received differently, our personal self-consciousness is new, the man is a new man. And though the new man may still be conscious of imperfection and sin, these no longer pertain to his inner personality, which has become one with Christ; but they pertain to the outer relations of his being, so that he counts them alien and opposed to his nature. And further, since the divine creation had reference, not to individuals as such, but to a world and only to individuals as related, constituent parts of the whole, then the activity of the Redeemer must be world-forming, and its object human nature universally, and not individuals as such. Thus the whole act of Christ in redemption consists in the implanting of the governing God-consciousness, in the propagation of the creative divine activity, as a new principle of life, in the whole of human nature, and all the energies of human nature become the organs for the propagation of the God-consciousness in those who come into spiritual contact with the communion in which that consciousness is operating, i.e., with the new organism which Christ has formed for himself. The calling of Christ is his work of bringing individuals to an acceptance of this new life- fellowship with himself through the activity of the communion in which it now dwells; and his animating activity refers to his relation to the common life as the cause of its continuance in the church and in the individual. This mystical apprehension of redemption stands mid-way between two other modes of representing the Redeemer's work, which may be designated as the magical, and the empirical The first is that which attributes to Christ a redeeming activity independently of the founding of the Christian communion as the means of its propagation--some say, through the medium of the written word, others say, without it; and the second attributes all to his example and doctrine, and thus renders his personal appearing in the world unnecessary. But the proof of the superiority of our view is found only in experience. 2) Reconciliation.--If God was in Christ in such a way that the God-consciousness was his whole personal consciousness, perfect blessedness as well as sin less perfection is involved; that is to say, nothing in the world, in human existence, or in his own experience, became an evil to him through repressing or limiting that inner life, but rather a means for its exercise. Therefore his self-revelation to men as an act of self-communication brings them into the communion of that blessedness. Thus his reconciling work comes to expression as the result of his redemption. Hence, for the believer as for Christ, evil is excluded. Pain, sickness, sorrow, death are no longer evils to him; they do not limit his religious life, but serve rather for its guidance and progress. Through the possession of a common life with Christ the connection between sin and evil ceases for him. The old man has ceased to be. Sin is forgiven, punishment is ended. This is the common consciousness of all believers. As in redemption, so in reconciliation, this mystical apprehension stands in contrast to the prevailing magi cal and empirical views, the former annulling the naturalness of Christ's continuous efficacy, and the latter its supernatural beginning and distinctive peculiarity. For the former makes the communication of Christ's blessedness independent of our reception into a life-communion with him, by making the forgiveness of sins an external and arbitrary result of Christ's sufferings, and blessedness a reward externally and arbitrarily conferred on account of these sufferings. On this supposition there would be no more assurance of blessedness within the Christian communion than without it. The latter, by making our blessedness dependent upon our wavering development in religious life, fails to establish a constant assurance in the heart and places Christ in the same relation to us as it places other men. While our view of redemption and reconciliation does not accord to the sufferings of Christ themselves a primary relation to our salvation, this is justifiable on the ground that the opposite view would exclude a perfect acceptance into life-fellowship with Christ prior to his death. His sufferings constitute an element of the second rank, immediately in relation to reconciliation and only mediately in relation to redemption. As concerns redemption: the perfection of Christ's saving activity could be manifested only in case it yielded to no opposition, not even to that involving his death. This perfection does not He in his sufferings but in his submission to them. But when leaving out of sight the founding of the new communion, the climax of his career is isolated from the rest of his life and his submission to sufferings for the sake of those sufferings themselves is looked upon as the sum of his redemptive activity, we have a magical view, a caricature of the doctrine of redemption. As concerns reconciliation: reception into the fellowship of Christ's blessedness depends on a longing for it on the part of those who, conscious of their unblest state, have received an impression of the blessedness of Christ. The blessedness of Christ could perfectly appear only as it proved itself superior to the fulness of sufferings, and so much the more as these sufferings resulted from the opposition of sin. Here the Redeemer's sympathy for the unblest enters on its highest phase. On this side, then, it is not his submission to sufferings but the sufferings themselves which become the highest sanction of faith in his blessedness. But surely that view is a caricature which, entirely overlooking the necessity for immovable blessedness in Christ and isolating a single element in his activity (and that too sometimes, his physical sufferings) as the ground of salvation, posits the reconciling power of his sufferings directly in this, that he freely gave up his own blessedness and actually, even if only temporarily, became unblest. Our view, on the contrary, keeps in mind that salvation for men is found in their reception into a life-fellowship with Christ; that such is nothing else than a continuation of that creative divine act whose manifestation in time began in the constitution of the person of Christ; that every intensive exaltation of this new life in its relation to the disappearance of the collective life of sin is itself a continuation of that divine activity, and that in this new life is attained the original destiny of humanity, beyond which for a nature like ours there is nothing to be conceived or to strive for. B. The common division of Christ's activity into the prophetic, the priestly, and the kingly is not arbitrary, but corresponds to the three factors operating in the development of the theocracy among the Jews. It was therefore a natural form of early Christian teaching in which a comparison with Judaism necessarily appeared, and in which there was ascribed to Christ a relation to God and men that exhausted the sphere of the divine economy of salvation. 1) The prophetic activity of Christ, as of the Jewish prophets, appeared in doctrine, prophecy, and miracle. The source of his doctrine was the pure original revelation of God in him, and, so far as the inner production of his thought is concerned, it was independent of the Jewish law. The essential content of it was his self-presentation, the setting forth in discourse of the creative God-consciousness as it stamped itself on his mental faculties so as to bring men into communion with himself. It may be divided into three inseparable portions: (1) the doctrine of his person which again on its outer side is (2) the doctrine of his calling or of the impartation of eternal life in the Kingdom of God, and on its inner side is (3) the doctrine of his own relation to God as the Father to be revealed through him. His doctrine is therefore summed up in the presentation of his person as the original revelation of God. The sufficiency and inexhaustibleness of this renders Christ the climax and end of all prophecy. His prophecies, as did the Jewish (we refer not to special and hypothetical predictions but to their broad universal character), referred to the consummation of the Kingdom of God. Since this is given in himself, all prediction is completed and ended in him. We are speaking not of isolated predictions, but of the one all-embracing prediction of the historical unfolding of the revelation of God in himself, involving, of course, a foretelling of the downfall of the temporary, and, at the time, opposing, Jewish theocracy. Apostolic predictions are to be received as an exposition or an echo of Christ. All supposed predictions or anticipations of future events falling outside this field are to be subjected to natural psychic research. His miracles at the time of their performance possessed value for those who beheld in them an exhibition of his person, but in themselves no longer possess validity for our consciousness because of our separation from these occurrences in time and space. They are subjects for scientific investigation and pass beyond the range of dogmatics. In place of them we have today the knowledge of the quality, range, and continuance of the spiritual workings of Christ. For us all miracles are comprehended and therefore ended in the one great spiritual miracle of his appearing. The miracles pertained to his prophetic office because they were a setting forth of the being of God in him. 2) The high-priestly office of Christ is not so suitable a description of his work because of the many contrasts between him and the Jewish high priest. As self-presentative, his priestly work is prophetic; and as supplying his people's needs, his intercession is a kingly office. Yet the prophetic and priestly offices may be distinguished thus: In his prophetic work Christ's self-presentation regards men as in antithesis to himself, and aims at making them receptive of union with him, which union is ever incomplete; his high-priestly work accepts our union with him as consummated in that, by a life-communion with him by which we participate in his perfection, his pure will to fulfil God's will is actively present in us, if not in performance, at least as motive. Though our manifestation of this oneness with him is ever incomplete, it is acknowledged by God as absolute and eternal, and is so posited in our faith. Accordingly it may be said that he represents us as the principle of our new life, that his righteousness is reckoned to us, and that we become objects of the divine good pleasure--not in any external sense, but as one with him in inner life. But we cannot ascribe to him a fulfilment of the law for us nor a fulfilment of God's will in our behalf in any other sense. Turning now to what is commonly designated as the passive obedience of Christ in contrast with his active obedience, which has just been discussed (though we must remember that these are merely distinctions of convenience), we may describe it as follows: Christ suffered for our sins, not as punishment, but by his coming into contact with human sin and misery. But for him nothing, not even death, was evil, and hence could be no punishment for sin. Similarly also for the redeemed; because the consciousness of guilt is removed by our union with him, the connection between evil and our sins, i.e., punishment, ceases for us. Herein, then, we see the redemptive value of Christ's sufferings: In his suffering unto death there is manifested to us an absolutely self-denying love, and thus is presented in perfect clearness the manner in which God was in Christ to reconcile the world to himself. In his sufferings perfect holiness and perfect blessedness stand before us. Just as the active obedience of Christ has its high-priestly worth pre-eminently in this, that God sees us in Christ as associates in his obedience; so the high-priestly worth of his passive obedience consists pre-eminently in this, that we see God in Christ and Christ as the most immediate participant in the eternal love which sent and equipped him. From this point of view we may correct two prevailing misinterpretations of his death. The first is the almost antiquated so-called "wounds-theology," which thinks to find the worth of Christ's sufferings in an emotional contemplation of them in detail. But this doctrine of salvation by contemplation annuls Christ's activity and destroys his priesthood. The second of these misinterpretations is that view which understands the doctrine that Christ's death removes our punishment, in the sense that he bore in his death as the sum of all evils that measure of punishment demanded by the sins of the human race and thereby satisfied the divine righteousness. But apart from the implication that the divine nature must have participated in the sufferings of Christ, the doctrine of vicarious satisfaction wrongly makes God the arbitrary author of Christ's sufferings, removes punishment from its natural connection with the morally bad, and so ignores the unity of nature. So far as Christ's work is satisfying--i.e., in that through the one entire act of his life, he became the eternally inexhaustible source of all life that is spiritual and blessed--in that respect it is not vicarious; because we are still under the necessity of exhibiting that same activity of life in communion with him. And in the respect in which he is our representative--i.e., in his feeling the sinfulness of others badness just in that respect he did not offer satisfaction, because those not yet in communion with him must feel their own unblessedness before they can enter into his communion, and because they will afterward share his sympathy for others. But he is our satisfying representative in that he presents human nature in perfection by the manifestation of his archetypal worth in his redemptive activity, so that God regards in him the totality of believers and sees in his free devotion to death such a perfection of redeeming power as is sufficient to bring the whole race within his communion. Finally, Christ's intercession refers, not to single petitions for individual men, but to his relation to the totality of the redeemed in such a way that in our prayers to God his co-operation appears in the purified and perfect God-consciousness of the Christian communion. In this sense it is only through him that our prayers are well-pleasing to God and efficacious. Thus Christ is the climax of all priesthood, because he exhausts its significance, and he is the end of all priesthood because he is the perfect mediator between God and the human race for all time. At the same time, his priesthood has passed over to the communion of believers in that his whole redeeming activity is exhibited in them. They stand toward the rest of humanity in a similar relation to that of the Jewish priesthood toward the people. This annuls all special priesthood and the meritoriousness of all individual actions or sufferings. 3) The kingly office of Christ relates to his living union with believers in a communion; it refers not to a special relation to individuals but only to them as members of his community. Since the communion arises out of the impartation of his consciousness, he is the continuous and inexhaustible source of supply for all its needs; the kingdom of God begins, subsists, and is perfected in his person. He is the animating principle of that communion, the power that draws men into it, the source of all legislation in it, and hence absolutely and exclusively lord over it. His personal consciousness produces the laws of its life, and these are accordingly eternal; all legislation proceeding from another source is alien to his kingdom. The question may be propounded: How does this kingdom stand related to the universal divine government? This question proceeds on theoretical grounds and produces only a theoretical difficulty. Faith is directed to Christ simply as source of grace and of the spiritual power and glory which flow from it, and when anything is said of his possession of a power over the natural world, as if he shared the lordship over it with God (which is contradicted by his prayers to God), this leads us beyond the sphere of faith. In the sphere in which Christ's power is exercised it is of course infinite, but that sphere is the communion founded by him, and therefore he has power over the world only in the sense that through the communion of believers--by their presentation of his person in word and deed--his redeeming activity is exerted upon men in drawing them to himself. Accordingly also Christ is the climax and end of all spiritual kingship. All other sorts of spiritual authority, as that of the teacher over his scholars, the exemplar over his imitators, the legislator over his subjects, are only partial and belong to a lower and subordinate grade. In this respect he stands contrasted with all other founders of religions. All other kinds of kingship end in his because they are only an imitation of his. This involves a separation of his kingdom from all political and civil powers, which effectuate their decrees through the use of material force. Christianity is neither a political religion nor a religious state or theocracy. By the purely spiritual authority of his God-consciousness he puts an end to both. The farther his reign is extended and established the more clearly will church and state be separated and therefore the more harmoniously will they co-exist. NOTE.--Christ's humiliation and exaltation: These expressions must be excluded from a doctrinal statement of Christ's person and work, since the conditions so designated have no bearing on his person in itself or his work in itself, or the relation of his person to his work. The supposition of an earlier condition of Christ's which was higher than his earthly, or of a later higher condition, is inconsistent with the unity of his person and militates against faith in his person as he was manifested on earth. It implies also impossible changes in the divine nature, as that to the absolutely extreme and eternal, and, there fore, self-identical, a humiliation may be ascribed; or self-contradictory conceptions of the relations of the divine and human in him, as that the attributes of one or another are alternately subject to limitation or quiescence. It is contradicted by Christ's own statements concerning his own relations to the Father while on earth, which do not regard his sitting at God's right hand as an exaltation (cf. John 1:51; 4:34; 5:17, 20 ff.; 6:57; 8:29; 10:30, 36). The idea has arisen from Phil. 2:6-9, a rhetorical passage of an ascetical character, which has been interpreted didactically. The whole doctrine destroys the unity of Christ's person and the reality of his earthly life, and is fatal to faith in his redemption (§§ 100-105). SECOND DIVISION: THE MANNER IN WHICH COMMUNION WITH THE PERFECTION AND BLESSEDNESS OF THE REDEEMER IS EXPRESSED IN THE INDIVIDUAL SOUL (§§ 106-12) The personal self-consciousness, properly under stood, is a race-consciousness, from which the consciousness of sin is inseparable. The individual identifies himself with a collective life which is sinful, and that collective sinful life is expressed in the soul of the individual as personal guilt and ill-desert. The experience of a repression of the God-consciousness is connected with external events in such a way. that they become evils, i.e., punishment of our sins, which is the experience of unblessedness. In this state of the individual previous to his entering into a life-communion with Christ the God-consciousness is not constant and dominant, but appears only in intermittent flashes. But by the working of Christ, through the word and the activities of the communion which has its life-source in him, this relation of the individual states and activities to the God-consciousness is changed, for these are now continuously controlled by it as the governing force of the personal life. Or, as otherwise stated, the self-consciousness of the individual is fundamentally altered because it is identified with a new collective life which originates in the God-consciousness of Christ. But the man, though a new personality, is still, as regards the unity of his psychical life, the same. The new state is grafted on the old, as it were. The change forms a turning-point from which onward the new life is in a condition of becoming. This turning-point is regeneration, and the progressive development of the life there from is sanctification. These terms have a reference to the race. The entrance of Christ into the sphere of human existence was potentially a new creation of the entire race. The beginning; of that new creation of the race is its regeneration; the gradual extension of that creative act throughout all the members of the race is its sanctification. The relation of the person of Christ to the rest of humanity is in analogy to the relation between the divine in him and his human nature; only that in the latter case at the very first a pure personality arose and the extension of the God-consciousness in his human nature was uninterrupted, whereas in the former case, on account of the identity of the subject in the old and the new states, elements from the old state of sinfulness interfere with the regularity of the development. Now, the regeneration of the race actually appears only in the regeneration of the individuals; and since the communion of believers consists of the totality of the sanctified energies of all who have been received into a fellowship of life with Christ, so also the sanctification of the individual involves in itself the operation of all those forces by which the communion is formed, held together, and extended. 1. Regeneration Regeneration may be regarded in two ways: (1) Reception into communion with Christ may be regarded as a settled permanent relation of man to God; formerly his relation to the divine holiness and righteousness appeared in the consciousness of guilt and desert of punishment, but with entrance into communion with Christ that disappears. (2) Reception into this communion may be regarded as a change in the form of life: in all the energies of life the will was formerly controlled by sensuousness and those impulses which sprang from the God-consciousness only coursed through the life without determining it, but now the relation is reversed. That is, in the first of these aspects regeneration is justification; in the second it is conversion. These are inseparably held together in the experience of fellowship, a fellowship which involves both a participation in Christ's perfection and a participation in his blessedness. 1) Conversion.--In the beginning of the new life of communion with Christ there are for the individual experience two elements--repentance and faith. Both are the outcome in the individual of Christ's self-presenting (prophetic), self-communicating (kingly) activity as exercised in that communion with which he comes into contact, by word and deed. Repentance is related to the past life in its totality (and not to separate acts merely, as it would be if produced through the law), and manifests itself in the form of regret for the sinfulness of the past and a change of mind as to the aim and purpose of life. It is a transition from activity in the old life to a subjection to the energy of the new; accordingly it implies faith. Faith is an act receptive of the Redeemer as presented in the Christian communion. It is no mere static condition, for human life is essentially active, and Christian piety is teleological. Even in its receptivity of the divine grace human nature is active. And if we go back from effectual divine grace which actually brings a man into communion with Christ, to that prevenient grace which shows itself, according to the laws of our nature, in the indistinct, often fitful, longing for redemption, we shall find that this is that original divine impartation which was bestowed at the creation of the race and which constitutes human nature, and that this impartation itself was bestowed in relation to the full redemptive activity of Christ which was yet to appear, so that a man's co-operation in his own conversion is not independent of grace. Here appears the parallel between the divine redemption of the race as it is actualized in the individuals comprising the race, and that divine creative act which consisted in the formation of Christ's person and the permeating of his being with the God-consciousness. The contention of many teachers both in the English and in the German church that children born in the bosom of the Christian church are to be received as children into its fellowship because they are already members of the body of Christ and have already been regenerated in their baptism, is to be rejected. For in all, whether born in the church or out of it, those forces which cause the rise of sin are at work and in all there is the tendency to degrade the divine to the sensuous. Infant baptism does not affect this power of sin in them, so that all are equally in need of conversion. The only actual distinction is that those who are born in the church stand in a natural and ordered connection with the operations of divine grace and are therefore already subjects of the gospel call, while the others stand in a contingent relation to that call. Indeed, our creeds connect only the original baptism of adults and those who ask for it with the new birth and extend it to infant baptism only, as it were, by permission. They mean to say no more than Calvin when he said that "the seeds of repentance and faith" were in these children. To bind together the sacrament of baptism and the new birth is to fall into a view of them as magical. Faith and conversion must ever and everywhere arise in the same way as with the first disciples, namely, through the whole prophetic activity of Christ; only that now the self-presentation of Christ is mediated through those who preach him, who are the organs of his activity. But to say, that to some Christ is immediately and inwardly revealed without the word, is to make the redemption flow from the bare idea of the Redeemer and renders the actual appearing of Christ unnecessary. And to leave the operations of divine grace in conversion without actual historical connection with the personal efficacious work of Christ is to abandon all certainty of the identity of this inner Christ with the historical. If now, on the contrary, the true view is that all that operation upon the mind from the first impression of the preaching of Christ up to its establishment in converting faith is to be ascribed to the activity of Christ, then all these operations of divine grace are supernatural; but since they are in |a natural historical connection with the personal life of Jesus and continue it historically they are also natural. 2) Justification.--Justification implies forgiveness of sins and acknowledgment of sonship with God, and it depends upon faith in the Redeemer, as has just been shown. The divine act of justification is not to be sundered from the working of Christ in conversion. Justification for the self-consciousness which rests in contemplation is the same as is conversion for the consciousness which passes over into stimulus of the will. Corresponding with the two sides of conversion, repentance finds its issue in the forgiveness of sins, just as faith becomes for thought the consciousness of sonship with God as that which is the same as the consciousness of fellowship with Christ. Not that forgiveness precedes faith, but that it declares the end of the old state just as does repentance, and sonship with God expresses the character of the new state just as does faith. Both depend on the whole activity of Christ just as in the case of conversion, but immediately and in themselves they denote only that relation of man to God which supervenes upon the consciousness of guilt and desert of punishment. Justification and conversion are synchronous. The converted man is a new man. For in this new life-fellowship with Christ sin is no longer active, but it is an afterworking or reaction of the old man. He no longer appropriates it to himself but reacts against it as an alien force, and accordingly the consciousness of guilt is removed. In him the consciousness of sin always becomes, on account of faith, the consciousness of forgiveness of sins. But justification is not an isolated act or pronouncement dependent upon some empirical activity or event, for this is to make the divine activity temporal and dependent in its nature, which would destroy the feeling of absolute dependence on God. Rather, there is one eternal and universal decree to justify men for Christ's sake. This decree, again, is one with the decree to send Christ; were it not so the sending of Christ might be without effect. And the decree to send Christ is one with that for the creation of the human race so far as human nature is first perfected in Christ. And since in God thought and will, will and deed are inseparable, therefore all these constitute one divine act for the alteration of our relation to God. The manifestation in time of the divine act takes its beginning in the incarnation of Christ, from which the total new creation of mankind proceeds, and it continues in the union of individual men with Christ. We have therefore to assume only one divine act of justification gradually realizing itself in time (§§ 106-9). 2. Sanctification The idea of holiness in men has been brought over into the New Testament from the Old, where it is apprehended as an attribute of God. But for Christians, not holiness, but sanctification, i.e., movement toward holiness, is the appropriate term because of their increasing separation from the pre-regenerate state and their gradual approach to that of Christ. The state of sanctification is, accordingly, not to be compared with the state in which the man was governed by sin but with that state in which he came under the power of prevenient grace. That grace affected him from without by stimulating thoughts and feelings which tend toward repentance and faith and also by prompting to actions which by repetition become habits. Such actions while they do not spring from individual regeneration are to be viewed as specifically the actions of the Christian collective life which exercises a power over the individuals who come within the sphere of its operations, like that of native citizens over the foreigners resident among them. The state of regeneration is to be distinguished from the new birth, not by the number of individual actions or a whole series of them, but by this, that the will to be no longer in that former sin-producing collective life has become a power of repulsion of sin, which power is itself an outflow from the submission to Christ's operation and becomes established as a steady willingness to be controlled by Christ. In the new collective life within which the regenerate man has fellowship with Christ, his natural powers are taken up and appropriated by Christ's activity, whereas formerly they were exercised entirely within the sinful collective life. The regenerate man's life possesses therefore an affinity to Christ's in respect to both sides of it, his sinless perfection and his blessedness. Since the activities of the regenerate are now exercised within this new collective life, their energies are exerted reciprocally, producing in each member of this new body a gradual religious development. The development must be gradual. For since the God-consciousness has come into a relation of control over the energies of human life only through a direct communication, after being regularly repressed by the sin-consciousness, it must be regarded as sustaining continually the opposition of this lower principle now gradually disappearing. Though this development is gradual, it is not perfectly regular for experience, because it occurs in the midst of a conflict, and there are times when the power of sin is exhibited in actions which obscure for the time the presence of the new spiritual power, just as in the former condition of life there occurred at times actions proceeding from the prevenient grace of God which obscured for a little while the presence of sin. In this respect Christ's development onward from his birth and the development of the regenerate are not strictly parallel. Yet the occasional recurrence of the consciousness of sin does not annul the connection with Christ so as to negative regeneration as a divine act of union with human nature, or sanctification as the state of that union. To express the same in another manner: In the activities of the regenerate there are two elements, the permanent and the variable. The permanent element is that ever self-renewing will (power) of the kingdom of God which wrought in Christ, and this is that participation in the sinless perfection and blessedness of Christ already spoken of; for all the power of good is within the kingdom of God and all the power of sin lies without it. The variable element appears in the isolated acts of sin which burst out in the life of the regenerate producing pain and unhappiness. The sins of the regenerate are not destructive of the state of grace because such never occur without the forth-putting on their part of effort (though in sufficient) against sin; likewise the good deeds of the regenerate are never unopposed by sinful tendencies or untainted with sin. The conflict with sin exists always; the difference in the character of the acts in the two cases is one of degree. The sinful deed proceeds from the old sinful collective life from which he has been personally separated and consequently no new form of sin arises in the regenerate man, and, so soon as he acknowledges the act as his own (i.e., repents), with the return of his consciousness of identification with the new collective life the consciousness of forgiveness arises. Hence we may say the sins of the regenerate are always accompanied by forgiveness. The good deeds of the regenerate are objects of the divine good pleasure, not as isolated empirical deeds of the individual concerned, for no single act is unmixed with sin, but in so far as they are the product of the new collective life with which he now identifies himself. That is to say, the good deeds of the regenerate are the product of their union with Christ, and the merit they possess is Christ's, so that, strictly speaking, it is only the person and that too only as God sees him in Christ--that is the object of the divine good pleasure, and his works only for the sake of the person. Consequently the regenerate claim no personal reward (§§ 110-12). Section 2. The Nature of the World in Relation to Redemption. Doctrine of the Church (§§ 113-63) The redemptive energy of Christ originally lay simply in himself. In the exercise of it he created a new spiritual organism through which it is historically propagated in the world. All the redemptive energy of Christ is accordingly comprehended within this new body, which is the communion of believers in him. Now, the consciousness of redemption involves a consciousness of participation in the communion of the regenerate, for this communion has not first to be established by an act of the regenerate, but in regeneration they already find themselves within it, and they trace the workings of grace through which they become participators in the redemption, to its activity. This activity was exerted upon them prior to their consciousness of redemption, their felt need of redemption being an effect of it. Consequently, there is no absolute leap out of one sphere into the other, else conversion would be an unhistorical occurrence, effected by some incomprehensible influence operating outside the universe of causes and effects. But just as there already existed prior to the advent of Christ, through the work of prevenient grace, a circle of individuals prepared to receive the redemption as it was to be ministered by the personal work of Christ himself, so now also there is in the world an outer circle of individuals upon whom the activity of the inner circle which consists of the communion of believers is exerted; and since in regeneration there is a consciousness of being already within that communion outside of which no redeeming activity is exerted, these people must have been already before regeneration within the outer circle of that communion. The world, then, as the field in which the church's work is to be done, stands in an antithetical relation to the church, but on the other hand is destined to pass over into it. Here we find the explanation of the Christian's conscious sympathetic relation to all things human. For while the world, notwithstanding its original perfection, is for men, apart from the redemption, the locus of sin and evil, through the advent of Christ a new element has entered into it, namely, Christ's own self-imparting perfection and blessedness. Through him, then, the world becomes to us the locus of perfection and blessing. We perceive, then, that the law of self-organization, as it appears in the naturalization of the super natural in Christ, finds its parallel in the communion founded by him. For the incarnation of Christ in relation to human nature in general corresponds to the regeneration of the individual in relation to the whole nature of the individual; so also to sanctification, as the progressive appropriation by Christ of individual functions, corresponds the work of the Christian communion as an organic body which progressively organizes itself and appropriates to itself the mass (i.e., the world) which lies over against it. Three stages in this process may be defined: (1) the origin of the church, or the manner in which the church is builded out of the world; (2) the present existence of the church in antithesis to the world; (3) the removal of this antithesis in the perfection of the church. Though the second is alone present immediately to experience, and therefore constitutes the kernel of this whole section, it will be better to discuss these stages in the historical order. FIRST DIVISION: THE ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH (§§ 115-25) The character common to all the regenerate is the governing will of the kingdom of God. That will is exerted in two forms, (1) in gaining other individuals and receiving them into the kingdom, (2) in the process of perfecting the work of the kingdom in ourselves and the other members by mutual and complementary activity. But this spatial extension of the kingdom and this co-operative and mutual influence are subject to those circumstances of time and place in which the members of the kingdom find themselves placed. Accordingly, on the one hand, the origin of the church must be viewed in its relation to the divine world-government, because the individuals composing the church are called out of the world; and on the other hand, in relation to the moving, unifying principle which constitutes all the members of the church one moral person. These will be treated under the titles Election, and Communication of the Holy Spirit. 1. Election The consciousness of redemption in Christ is so related to the consciousness of unity with the race, that the incarnation of Christ is viewed as potentially the regeneration of the human race. Hence the desire to communicate the gospel to the world. The actual spread of the gospel is gradual--from the individual to the mass, from nation to nation, and from generation to generation--being subject to these conditions which determine all human activity. That is to say, participation in redemption is subjected to the laws of the divine world-government. This must be true in reference even to the mysterious fact of the rejection of the gospel by some and its acceptance by others. Just as in Christ the supernatural becomes natural, so the church as the possessor of that super natural which was in Christ appears in its course in the world as a natural historical phenomenon. The final ground of the divine government of the world is the divine good-pleasure, and in the last analysis it is to this we must refer the facts of the gospel's earlier and later reception in different places, its acceptance and rejection by different individuals while living, and its failure to reach the ears of others before they die. We have, therefore, to face the problem of defining this divine will with clearness and without inner contradiction. Now, it is not an offense to Christian sympathy that some are received earlier than others into the communion of redemption, nor is it ever supposed that the sum of final blessedness is thereby lessened. It is as vain to hold the opposite view, that it would have been better if the regeneration of the individual had occurred earlier, as to contend that it would have been better for the totality of mankind if Christ had come before he did, or to lament the fact that the world was not created earlier. But when it is supposed that those who die without participation in the redemption are forever excluded from it, there is created, on the contrary, a discord in Christian sympathy with the race. Not only is it a violation of the unity of the race, but it imparts arbitrariness and particularism into the divine will. To reply by saying that these opposite destinies are ordained for the sake of manifesting in the one case the divine mercy and in the other case the divine righteousness is to overlook the truth that the divine righteousness is adequately exhibited in the reward given to Christ and the punishment of men as long as they adhere to the old life of sin, And further, to separate in this manner the divine attributes is to describe God as an unlimited being with limited attributes and to overlook the mutual inclusiveness of all his attributes. The antithesis between the church and the world must be regarded, therefore, not as final, but as temporary; not as absolute, but as relative, and as destined to disappear by the ultimate absorption of all into the church. The gradual progress of sanctification in the individual and the gradual transition of those who are in the outer circle of the workings of grace into the inner circle are analogous. This is simply the natural form which the divine activity necessarily assumes in its historical manifestation, the inevitable condition of all temporal effectiveness of the word that "became flesh." 1. The doctrine of fore-ordination is a consequence. The self-consciousness of the regenerate and the feeling of absolute dependence are one, since our activity in the kingdom of God is referred by consciousness to the sending of Christ and is recognized as dependent on our place in human relations; so that the order in which the redemption is actualized in each man is one with the carrying out of the divine world-order in relation to him. Thus the time and manner of the individual's entrance into the communion of Christ are only a result of the determination of the manifestation of the justifying divine activity by the universal order of the world, and they are a part of the same. Hence the kingdom of grace, or the kingdom of the Son, is absolutely one with the kingdom of the Omniscient Omnipotent One, or of the Father; and to say that the state of those to whom grace has been given is a work of that divine grace which was in Christ is one and the same thing as to say that it is a result of the divine foreordination. And further, since the Christian consciousness recognizes only one foreordination--namely, that to participation in the blessedness of Christ--the unity of the race-consciousness and the universality of the world-order can be in harmony with the Christian consciousness of redemption only by the acknowledgment of the foreordination of all mankind to an ultimate reception into the kingdom of grace. 2. From the above doctrine of election may be deduced also the doctrine of the determining grounds of election. Of free existences, why are some chosen and others not? The peculiar condition of each individual in the human race is due to his place in the development of the divine world-government. If, then, we seek the determining grounds of the election of an individual absolutely in the beginning of all things, we shall find these in the divine good-pleasure; but if we seek the grounds of election in the final results attained in the end, we posit the divine foreknowledge. Divine good-pleasure and divine foreknowledge are one and the same principle viewed from opposite standpoints. If, therefore, regeneration be viewed as the actualization of the union of the divine and human nature, and the justifying divine grace as the temporal and individual continuation of that universal act of union which began in the incarnation of Christ, then the rule of the divine procedure must be the same in both cases. That is, the time and place which was chosen must have been absolutely the best and the results must have reached the maximum of efficiency. That moment in the life of the individual must have been the time when he would exercise faith. From this point of view therefore the election of the individual is grounded in his foreseen faith. But this again is itself determined by the divine causality operating in the world's course, which causality rests in the divine good-pleasure, which is concerned with no individual in and for himself, but with the world-whole. NOTE.--But if while we trace the origin of the Christian church to the divine good-pleasure, we admit that a part of the human race is forever lost, the contemplation of that good-pleasure affects our race-consciousness and our personal consciousness in opposite ways, one painfully and the other pleasurably, and hence admits of no pure impartation of the blessedness of Christ to us. It becomes necessary therefore that we conceive the divine foreordination to salvation as embracing ultimately the whole human race (§§ 117-20). 2. The Communication of the Spirit All those who are in the state of sanctification are conscious of participation in the perfection and blessedness of Christ, which is dependent on the indwelling of God in him. This possession of the perfection and blessedness that were in Christ belongs to the believer in the form of that absolutely constant will of the kingdom of God as the inner impulse of life. It is not as isolated individuals standing in independent personal relation to Christ that Christians are conscious of this possession, but only in their relation to the Christian communion as members of it. This spirit, which constitutes the will of the kingdom of God, is the common spirit of the Christian communion. It is this spirit that furnishes the life-unity of the communion, and makes the members of the communion a moral person. The impulse felt by all the members of the communion to assemble together, to combine in an effort for the extension of the kingdom among those who are not yet consciously within it, and to effect that mutual working which produces the harmonious development of all their various, but now unified, energies, is just the expression of the life of that one spirit dwelling in them all. This is the indwelling of the divine in the church, conditioned by the indwelling of the divine in Christ. This common spirit of all the sanctified is thus the Spirit of Christ, which is the Spirit of God, and the bestowal of that Spirit by Christ is what is meant by the Communication of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is therefore just the common spirit of all those who are sanctified, who together form one moral person, having the one aim, common to all, of furthering the whole, and possessing peculiar love to one another. If it be objected that our use of the term does not coincide with common usage, we may reply that it is in harmony with the New Testament where the Holy Spirit is not regarded as our individual enduement apart from his connection with the totality of believers, or as a peculiar quality of separate personalities, but as the unitary possession of them all (cf. John 16:7 ff.; Acts 1:4, 5; John 20:22, 23; Acts 2:4; I Cor. 12:4; Rom. 8:9; Acts 10:47; 19:2; 2:38). On this point the expression of the Christian consciousness may be treated as twofold. First, in analogy with that unity which constitutes a nation, where the common and self-same national character inheres in each citizen but is modified by his original disposition, the Christian church is one through this common spirit, but its activity in each individual is conditioned by the state in which the new birth found him. Second, this common spirit is one because in all it is from one and the same source, namely, Christ, since the communication of it coincides with the rise of faith in him and the recognition of that faith in others. It may be said further in objection: If, as has been stated, all peoples are destined to pass over into the Christian communion by virtue of the unity of the race, then, since there cannot be two life-unities for one and the same whole, the common spirit of the Christian church is simply the common spirit of the human race. The answer is: It is just in the possession and communication of the Holy Spirit that the unity of the members of the human family--now, alas! torn asunder by mutual jealousies and animosities--becomes an accomplished fact. Through Christ as Founder there is realized a union which by faith and in love embraces all men, so that the race-consciousness and the God-consciousness become one and inseparable. But on this very account we can say that the Holy. Spirit is no natural principle developing itself in man outside of Christ. The believer is conscious of possessing this spirit with the act of faith in Christ, which arises through that representation of Christ which is given in the preaching of him. But this gift is no longer received direct from Christ personally, as was the case with his first disciples. Up to the time of Christ's separation from them they were only in the state of a developing receptivity in relation to his spirit. The transition from receptivity to self-activity took place for them in the days of the resurrection. Up to the time of Christ's separation from them, their relation to him was that of a household to its head or of a school to its teacher--upon the death of the leader dissolution was the result. But with the separation of Christ from his disciples they became conscious of their possession of his Spirit as their common spirit; they ceased to be a school and became a church; they ceased to be merely receptive of his teachings and nature, and became spontaneous and communicative in relation thereto. The Holy Spirit was thus communicated to them as their common possession, and was thenceforth communicated by them to those who were in the stage of preparatory grace in which they themselves had once been. Whenever these also, apprehending Christ by faith, are transformed from a merely receptive to an active condition in their place within this new collective life founded by Christ, it may he said that they have received the Holy Spirit. Consequently, the life and activity of the church proceeds historically--not in some secret, magical, or mysterious way--from Christ. His incarnation was the naturalization of the supernatural, the union of the divine with human nature. So the communication of the Holy Spirit constitutes the union of the Divine Being with human nature in the form of a common spirit animating the collective life of believers which Christ founded. The operations of the Holy Spirit are not to be found in something outside the Christian church or in some superhuman nature or in some divine power affecting human nature from without; but the Holy Spirit is an actual spiritual force in the souls of believers and must be conceived of as united with the human nature in them, so as to become one with it. Each believer participates in this common spirit, not in his personal self-consciousness regarded by itself alone, but only in so far as he is conscious of his existence in this whole, personal peculiarities being no element in this common consciousness. If then we regard the union of the divine with Christ's human personality as an endowment of human nature in its collective capacity, participation in the Holy Spirit and fellowship of life with Christ are one and the same, reversely contemplated. The Christian church animated by the Holy Spirit is in its purity and perfection the perfect image of the Redeemer, and every regenerated individual is a complementary constituent part of this communion, That is to say that in the Christian church as a collective life, as a moral person, the modes of apprehension and of action are the same as those of the Redeemer because the same human powers are united with the same divine principle. This image, however, appears in its perfection only when we view the human race (with which the church is destined to be identical) apart from sin, and is to be progressively realized. Accordingly, if we contemplate the church's gradual realization of its ideal according to the divine order of its extension and development in the world, we shall see that in its entirety it is at every instant at v the highest stage of perfection possible to it and carries in itself the ground of a highest perfection yet to be attained. This, however, is apprehensible only to faith and is not demonstrable by experience (§§ 121-25). SECOND DIVISION: THE CHURCH IN ITS COEXISTENCE WITH THE WORLD (§§ 126-59) The church is the creation by the Spirit of Christ, out of individuals in the world, of a communion whose common spirit is the same Holy Spirit. Its state of existence in the world must, then, be in analogy with that of the person of Christ. In him the supernatural, the divine, as the abiding self-identical element of his person, united to itself the natural, the human, which was the variable element of his person. So also in its common spirit the church possesses an ever self-identical element, which makes its appearance in a variable element, the world. The church and the world are not to be described as two mutually exclusive entities, as if it sufficed to say that just as the world is not the church, so the church is not the world. Such a view tends to separation and legal righteousness. A better and more adequate statement would be the following: The world is excluded from participation in the church because in itself it is mere nullity and negation--not a self-contained unity, but a manifold of elements temporarily, oppositely, and contingently related. That alone which is permanent in the world is the feeling of the need of help which itself is a product of the Holy Spirit's self-exertion upon the world and is the basis of the church's title to the world. Since the aim of the church is ever the same, namely, the realization within itself of the image of Christ, the mode of the existence of the divine in the human must remain the same as it was in him. The variable element in the church, as in Christ, is due to the human nature in and through which the Holy Spirit works. Now, human nature as undetermined by the Holy Spirit is the world, and therefore all that is variable in the church is due, not to its common spirit, but to the world, and the manner of the Spirit's work among men depends on peculiarities of temperament and circumstances of individuals and, on a larger scale, of nations. All in the church which is not wrought by the Holy Spirit is of the world and constitutes its attack upon the church. To this pertain the sins of the regenerate and all error and perversion, which are destined to disappear from the church and yet re-enter into it with each new convert. The differences within a Christian society arise from the same causes. All this discussion amounts to saying that Christianity is a power developing itself historically in the world. A treatment of it as such involves a discussion of its permanent, self-identical elements and its variable elements (§ 126). 1. The Essential and Permanent Features of the Church (§§ 127-47) If our Christianity is to be the same as that of the first disciples, it must arise like theirs from the influence of Christ. But since his influence is no longer an immediate, personal one, we are in need of a demonstration of the identity of our Christianity with that which appears in their presentation of the personality of Christ. For this we are dependent on the Scriptures of the New Testament. They show that from the influence of Christ himself and from his disciples testimony about him there actually proceeded the church-forming activity promised by him. They also complement the immediate utterances of Christ, because we can refer the ordinances and acts of his first disciples to the teachings and expressed will of Christ as their source. They are thus the work of the Spirit of Christ which is the common spirit of the church. With the loss of the original oral testimony the Scriptures remain the only original authority. But they would become a dead inheritance, did we possess these only and were the ever self-renewing activity of the church wanting. Thus the living testimony of the church and the Scriptures are the two elements indispensable for the historical identity and the truth of faith. Moreover, since the immediate personal influence of Christ is wanting, the institution and renewal of life-fellowship with Christ must issue from the church and be referred to its acts--that is, such acts as can be referred to Christ himself. For, on the one hand, the church is his organism and all her essential activities are the image of Christ's activities, and, on the other hand, all that is effected by them is the progressive actualization of redemption in the world, and therefore her activities are just the continuation of the activities of Christ. It is true that there are many Christian churches mutually opposed in varying degrees. Their differences concern not the reality of a common life-fellowship with Christ, but the relations between the outer forms which represent it and the inner fellowship implied in them. The most important question as to all these differences is, whether they are grounded in these spatial and temporal differences which appear in the spiritual nature of men and are therefore unavoidable, or whether they are grounded in the world's attack upon the church and are therefore defects. But amid all the divisions of the Christian communion its universal self-identity appears in a triple manner: the testimony of Christ, the formation and preservation of life-fellowship with Christ, and the reciprocal relation of influence between the individual and the whole. The first of these is exhibited in the Scriptures and the ministry of the Divine Word, and these, as constituting the church's immediate presentation of Christ, are an image of his prophetic activity. The second is furnished in baptism and the Supper, and these represent his high-priestly activity. The third appears in the office of the keys and in prayer in the name of Jesus, and these represent Christ's kingly activity (§ 127). 1. Holy Scripture.--The Scripture of the New Testament is a work of the Holy Spirit as the common spirit of the church, and forms only a particular instance of the universal testimony of the church in its presentation of the image of Christ to men. The written word possesses, however, a superiority over the original word which was merely spoken, not in its higher authoritativeness, but in that it furnished a means of testing our present testimony of Christ by that which was originally given. Yet this word is to be viewed as no dead possession (legal conception), but as an ever self-renewing activity of the church in its work of awakening faith in Christ by its presentation of him to the world. It is faith in Christ which gives rise to reverence for the Scriptures, and not the converse. For, if faith in Christ is to be made to repose on the authority of the Scriptures, then that authority itself can be established only by an appeal to the reason common to all men. That is to say, faith is made dependent on a scientific demonstration of the authenticity, accuracy, and truth of the Scriptures, and those who are in capable of making the necessary investigation are dependent on external authority. Faith is subordinated and proportioned to intelligence or ability. Believers are graded in two classes as in the Romish church. Moreover, on these terms a man might become a Christian without a felt need of redemption--without repentance and a change of mind. Such a faith could never issue in a life- fellowship with Christ. Even the apostles proceeded not from the interpretation of the Old Testament to faith in Christ, but first, stimulated by the Baptist's testimony, rose to faith in Christ by witnessing his words and deeds and then proceeded to interpret the Old Testament in this new light. Accordingly, while it is proper to refer to the Scriptures for the sake of showing that an article of faith is an original element of Christian piety, yet a doctrine does not necessarily pertain to Christianity because it is taught in the New Testament, but rather owes its place in the New Testament to its relation to Christianity. The opposite view would make dogmatic theology a collection of individual propositions without inner connection. Herein lies the justification of our bringing forward a doctrine of the Scriptures at this point. It is Christ's Spirit as the common spirit of the communion which gives utterance to itself in the historical and epistolary writings of the New Testament, and each one of these writings is an utterance of that Spirit, so far as it represents the common spirit in which all the writers participated. Thus it comes that the Spirit of Christ as a living presence in the Christian communion is the source of a decision between canonical and apocryphal works and is also the ground for a continuous and never-ending adjudication upon the character of the various contents of these same works. At the same time these Scriptures, as the first members of the series of presentations of Christ, are the norm of all subsequent presentations of him, inasmuch as they stand as the presentation of the person of Christ by those who, of all those whose writings we possess, stood nearest to Christ, and who were thus protected by the purifying influence of the living remembrance of the whole church from those dangers to their faith which arose out of their earlier Jewish forms of thought and life. But the peculiar spiritual endowment which came in this way to these apostolic men does not involve a distinction between the spiritual quality of their acts and that of their writings, as if they were animated and impelled by the Spirit in a lesser degree in the one case than in the other. Neither are the sacred books to be regarded, on account of the apostolic endowment, as demanding an exegetical and critical treatment peculiar to themselves. For just as in the doctrine of the person of Christ, so also in regard to the Scriptures, the activity of that spirit which operates in the church exhibits itself as an inner (the divine) expressing itself organically through an outer (the human). Similarly the narrative and epistolary portions of the Scriptures stand in a common relation to the apostolic office. The selection of the individual books for the Canon is to be regarded as proceeding analogously with the selection and combination of the historical elements. We are not to conceive of a definite and final decision given by apostolic authority, but of the gradual adjudication upon extant works, professedly Christian, by the Spirit which was common to the whole church. While, therefore, the Scriptures are to be subject to the freest investigation, the self-recognizing activity of the Holy Spirit in the church warrants the statement that the various books of the New Testament were given by that Spirit, and the collection of the same has been made under his guidance. The Scriptures of the Old Testament cannot be allowed to claim the same dignity. The spirit of the Old Testament is not the spirit of the New, because it is the spirit of law. Its place in our Bible and the customary use of it in Christian teaching are owing partly to the manner in which Christ and his apostles and the early Christians in general made reference to it when as yet the Canon of the New Testament had not been formed, and partly to the historical connection between the Christian church and the Jewish synagogue (§§ 128-32). 2. The ministry of the Divine Word.--The preaching of Christ was a presentation of himself. The preaching of the Christian communion is the presentation of Christ. But since this communion is the image of Christ, its preaching is also self-presentation. Self-presentation is self-communication to those who are receptive of it, and therefore we may say that the common spirit of the communion, which is just that which constitutes it a communion, communicates itself as the Spirit of Christ to those who assume a receptive attitude toward it. This Spirit which Christ him self communicated is the Holy Spirit which gave the Scriptures, and thus the self-communication of the Christian communion is a supplying of the Divine Word and must always submit to the test of conformity with the Scriptures. Now each member of the communion, in his participation, to some degree, in this work of self-communication, seeks to present only that in himself which is of Christ, and to that degree he is an organ of the divine word. The influence of the members is mutually exercised and it is exerted through all the various activities of life without any definite plan or conscious arrangement. But owing to difference of temperament, talent, outer circumstances, and breadth of Christian experience, these activities of the members, both upon one another and upon the world, vary in degree and extent, some members being prevailingly active and others prevailingly receptive. And inasmuch as the common spirit of the communion must find expression in the orderly public assembly and the organized work of the Christian society, it becomes necessary, so as to secure an orderly and regular ministry, to set some individuals formally apart to the public service of the Divine Word. They can perform this only when they represent the communion as organs of its common spirit. And therefore they are to be designated to their office by the act of each several communion in which they inhere. Yet, of course, the occupants of church offices are not to be considered as exhausting its spiritual activities so as to preclude the spontaneous exercise of his gift on the part of each member of the formation of religious associations within the church. If the whole of the Christian communion could express itself in the doctrines and rules which the church sets forth and which these ministers as organs of its spirit declare, then these doctrines and rules and the public preaching of them would be free from error. But spatial and temporal relations render this impossible. Hence the necessity of binding the public ministry of the word to the Holy Scriptures (§§ 133-35). 3. Baptism.--Baptism is an act of the church by which it signifies its will to receive an individual into its communion. The common spirit of the communion being Christ's spirit, its act of reception succeeds upon, and takes the place of, Christ's personal act of choosing individuals for his fellowship during his ministry, and it occurs as an act of faith in his promise, which is attached to the baptismal act. Therefore, since communion with Christ, regeneration, and justification are fundamentally one, the act of baptism is to be regarded as indicating the exercise of God's justifying .activity upon the individual baptized and as conveying the assurance of this possession. Were the whole church present and represented in the act, because of the activity of the Holy Spirit in all its fulness within the church, the highest canonical authority would attach to its decree: the baptismal act and the new birth would absolutely coincide. This, of course, is not demonstrably the case, and therefore there is no absolute coincidence between the administration of baptism and the extension of Christian fellowship. The act of baptism has an inner and an outer side. The inner side is the spiritual intention to receive the baptized into the communion from which issue all the operations of the Spirit which effect the new birth, and the outer side is the physical act through which the intention is conveyed. Hence it is not correct to say that the baptism is conditioned by the new birth, because that is to presuppose an activity in the church prior to being received in it, which is ab surd. On the contrary, then, we must say that the new birth is conditioned by baptism, that is, when baptism is taken to be the final act in that series in which the church expresses its will to extend itself, which it can do only by receiving new members. Accordingly it is through baptism rather than through the fluctuating experience of sanctification that we become personally assured of possessing the new birth. But of course this assertion is to be understood not in reference to the mere external act but the motives which underlie it. This assertion of the validity of the act in view of the intention is not to be understood as referring to the definite consciousness of the administrator, but as referring to the church, whose act it is. Hence its validity for the entire church, even though it be administered by one of the relatively opposed societies into which the church is divided. For in all of these the ordinance is referred back to Christ's own institution (Matt. 28:19, 20; Mark 16:16). The baptized accepts the church's intention, and hence his faith is necessary to the fulfilment of that intention. His faith is the individual act of self-appropriation of the perfection of Christ, but with it there is also the appropriation of the blessedness of Christ which is enjoyed only in the communion of believers. He who believes will enter this fellowship. This is done in baptism, which is properly called the seal of divine grace. Yet the absence of faith at the time on the part of the person baptized does not in validate the act or render necessary the repetition of it on the rise of faith; but the reception into the communion remains incomplete, just as it does also when faith exists but baptism has not been performed. In the former case the baptism looks forward to a faith yet to be exercised; in the latter case it looks back. Therefore it is true, in both cases, that baptism as the act of receiving the individual into the communion conveys the title to participation in the perfection and blessedness of Christ which is the essence of the Christian communion. Thus infant baptism is valid, but only when respect is had to a confession of faith, to be made consequent upon perfected instruction, as the final act pertaining to that instruction. Though there are no traces of infant baptism in the New Testament, it is justifiable on the grounds of the necessities of the church and the demands of the parental feelings of those who are members thereof (§§ 136-38). 4. The Supper.--Beginning with a baptism properly administered the Christian has an experience of blessedness in Christ. But the development of this consciousness is not steady and uninterrupted; hence arises the necessity that our consciousness of blessedness should be confirmed and strengthened. Christian blessedness, outwardly regarded, is a communion with other believers; inwardly regarded, it is a communion with Christ, a personal (individual) attitude toward him. These are coincident and reciprocally operative. Against both of these two sides of the Christian life, the repressive influence of the world is continually at work. Hence arises the necessity for private meditation on the one hand--for hereby the believer excludes the influences of the world by presenting Christ to himself out of the Scriptures--and for public divine service on the other for the mutual fellowship of believers is strengthened and stimulated by the exhibition of a common Christian love. And this at the same time both expresses and comprises the fellowship of each one of them with Christ. To this latter, the public divine service, the Supper belongs. Christians do experience in the Supper a peculiar strengthening of their spiritual life, and have done so ever since the time of its institution by Christ. In it Christ is presented to them. In the public gathering of the church as such, he supplies a participation in his flesh and blood. In this connection two questions arise: (1) How does the Supper as a supplying of the flesh and blood of Christ relate itself to that purely spiritual participation which he himself declared to be necessary? (2) How docs the Supper as a constituent part of public divine service distinguish itself from other parts of the same? To begin with the latter: The Supper is distinguished from all other kinds of public worship in that, while in other forms of worship the degree in which the different members of the communion are actively or receptively related to one another varies according to their gifts and their place in the communion, in the Supper all the members are similarly placed in a receptive relation to the blessedness of Christ. The administrator is nothing more than the organ of Christ's institution. The inworking of this blessedness in the case of each believer proceeds solely and immediately from Christ himself, through the word of institution in which the redeeming and communion-forming love of Christ is presented and ever operates as a stimulus to piety. The peculiarity of the Supper is this individual and exclusive immediacy of presentation of Christ, this independence, in its working, of all changing personal conditions and relations. In regard to the former question: In that discourse of Christ where he speaks of the necessity of eating his flesh and drinking his blood he had neither the Supper nor another definite action in mind, but he referred to the periodic renewal of our fellowship with him. The Supper lends itself naturally to such a description, In the Supper each member is conscious of a sympathy with all the others, so that as he knows that the others more closely unite themselves to Christ in it, he feels that he also is more closely united there by to them all. Thus each member represents to the others the whole society, and indeed the whole Christian communion. But this spiritual benefit is dependent on the definite observance of the rite which has been blessed and sanctified through the word of Christ. In and for itself there is nothing incomprehensible in the ordinance. Consequently the teaching of the Roman Catholic church is false when it affirms both that the union of the elements with the body and blood of Christ is accomplished and that the spiritual benefit is attached to the elements of the Supper through contemplation and veneration of them, apart from the act of participation; for this is to make its effect of a magical character. Those sacramentarians are also in error who see in the elements only a representative image of spiritual participation. We hold, on the contrary, that the response to Christ's invitation to spiritual eating and drinking of himself is so actualized in the Supper through the word of institution, that believers find spiritual participation assured to them in the sacramental act which, when rightly administered, is an unfailing means of access to it. Similarly we reject the view of those who deny the connection between the Supper and spiritual participation in Christ and regard it as a command of Christ to be observed for all time in the church, simply as a testimony or confession. For in the first place this view robs the Supper of its pre-eminence as a public service; and in the next place it destroys its identity at all times. For in its original institution there were none present to whom the disciples could give their testimony, and there have always been other means by which the members of the church recognize their mutual faith. Any view of the Supper is defective which fails to see in it a renewal of the assurance of the forgiveness of sins, that is, of fellowship with Christ, which is subject to interruptions by the consciousness of sin. Thus as baptism by uniting us with the body of Christ introduces the consciousness of regeneration (the certainty of forgiveness), so this repeated presentation of Christ in the Supper by the whole society of believers confirms the certainty of forgiveness by strengthening and restoring the interrupted consciousness of regeneration. This is ministered in the Supper by the assembled community of faith, for union with Christ (which is forgiveness) is not to be thought of apart from the union with believers (§§ 139-42). 5. The office of the keys.--If the church were a perfect whole with nothing of the world in it, so that every individual within it would be a perfect organ of the common spirit, then the will of the whole church would be the will of every individual member. But since this is not the case, and since there arises in every individual some opposition to the will of the common spirit of Christ, that will comes to him as law. Where the individual member is definitely not subjected to it, then the church counts him as not truly a member. This legislative and judicial activity of the church is simply the perpetuation of the legislative and administrative power of Christ, which inheres in the church by virtue of its possession of his spirit; it is an exhibition of his kingly activity. Every new subjection of an individual life to this activity of the church is a new acquisition achieved by its common spirit. Then the church, by extending to the individual the God-consciousness which is to supply to him the law of his spiritual life, first affords to him an entrance into the communion and afterward as signs to him his definite and proper place within it. The church, then, according to Christ's own utterances, has the power of binding: that is, it deter mines through command and prohibition what may or may not be done; and of loosing: that is, of leaving certain matters to be determined by the individual. The limit of this power of the church is assigned by the necessity of preserving the common mind or feeling; as when, for example, some individual member does that which, if left unreproved, would damage the well-being of the others, or when some individual places the persons of others in contempt by setting himself above them so as to try to make his personal act or thought the will of the common spirit. But just because this kingly activity of Christ in the church is living and abiding, there can be no decree which is final and valid for all time, but these must ever be subject to amendment. Hence also, there can be no ban of final exclusion from the church or abandonment of effort to bring the individual within its communion (§§ 144, 145). 6. Prayer in the name of Jesus.--The church's historical progress in the world is opposed by obstacles without and within: without, by the opposition of that part of the world which the church has not yet taken possession of and assimilated; within, by the worldly elements remaining in each of its members. Hence the church's common consciousness is of its imperfection. Now the longing to realize the aim of Christ's mission being a living and abiding element of the church's life, this, conjoined with the consciousness of imperfection, implies on the one side a sense of need and on the other side a presentiment of what is necessary to the fulfilment of that aim. All progress in this direction is ascribed through the God-consciousness to the divine world-government, and is expressed in thankfulness or resignation according as it is realized in some particular or not. But so far as the matter appears undecided it is expressed in prayer, i.e., an inner connection between the God-consciousness and the wish directed toward the best end. It is inevitable that the thinking subject should outline in many forms the manner in which the fulfilment of its aim appears possible. Hence the particular petitions in prayer. The judgment of each individual as to what particular occurrences would contribute to the end in view is, of course, defective and of uncertain value. Those of them who possess a gift analogous to the prophetic are therefore adapted to exercise a special influence on the whole body in the direction of its petitions. Beginning with Christ himself there have appeared from the earliest times individuals in whom the personal motives have been excluded and who possessed that foresight which qualified them in an eminent degree as organs of the common will of the church in respect to prayer. True prayer, which is always united to an interest in the kingdom of God as the church's end, is the expression of the common spirit of the church in respect to its needs; i.e., it is an activity of the Holy Spirit in the form of anticipation and desire. To pray in the name of Jesus is to pray in the matters which concern him (Angelegenheiten), or (which is the sane) in his mind or spirit. That prayer is therefore a prayer in the name of Jesus in which those who pray occupy his relation to the kingdom of God, i.e., they pray in accordance with his government of his church. The whole church being a perfect reflection of Christ, that only is a prayer in the name of Jesus which has underlying it the total consciousness of the church, i.e., a prayer whose content has reference to the whole state of the church. This is the common prayer of the church on all occasions. Such prayer is always heard. This is the prayer of faith--not a separate faith that the prayer will be heard--but faith in the permanence and supreme worth of the kingdom of God which Christ founded. Every particular petition is heard so far as it agrees with this norm. Consequently, prayer is not the exercise of an influence upon God. Such a view of prayer postulates a reciprocation between the creature and the Creator, represents its effect as empirical (akin to magical), and contradicts the fundamental thesis of this work. Prayer and its fulfilment have a common basis in the character of the kingdom of God. For prayer is that Christian anticipation which is developed out of the whole activity of the divine spirit, and its fulfilment is an expression of the governing activity of Christ in relation to the same object. In this sense we may say that neither one can be without the other, for both grow out of the same divinely ordered conditions. Thus true piety and true prayer always go together (§§ 146,147). 2. The Variable Elements of the Church Owing to Its Coexistence with the World (§§ 148-56) If everyone who receives the spirit of Christianity retained no longer any of the characteristics of his former life, but became receptive solely of the common spirit of the church, then the separation between church and world would be absolute and their influence be merely that of reciprocal opposition and enmity. But though the true ego of the regenerate man is that of delight in the divine will, his new birth is no instantaneous transformation of his whole being. Worldly elements inhere in all those who constitute the church; so that church and world are not spatially and temporally separated. At every empirical manifestation of human life both appear. Where faith and a communion in faith are found, there also are sin and a communion in universal sin fulness. Only by abstraction can the church be isolated. The workings of the church, which consist in the union of the Holy Spirit with human nature, constitute a coherent and co-operative whole, but Invisible, because never in empirical separation from the world. The totality of the connected operations of the Spirit constitutes the Invisible Church. These same operations as connected with reactionary elements of sin which appear in the lives of the regenerate constitute the Visible Church. Within the visible church, church and world coexist. Hence, while the whole truth of redemption be comes the believer's possession through the communication of Christ's perfection to him, and while a present guidance into the truth is assured by the consciousness of sonship with God in a life- fellowship with Christ, the reaction of his former state affects his conceptions of life and his activity of will, so that there is, on the one hand, only a gradual transformation of his ideas, and this involves inevitably a degree of falsity in all external expressions of this inner truth; and, on the other hand, only a gradual change in the direction of his life-energies occurs, and this involves a certain degree of impurity of motive. This, of course, pertains to the communion as well as to the individual. Hence the twofold contrast between the invisible church arid its empirical manifestation in the visible church, the contrast in thought and in action: to wit (to mention these features in the reverse order), while the invisible church is one, the visible church is divided: and while the invisible church is infallible, the visible church is subject to error. The invisible church must be one, for the spirit is one, and since the communion of the Spirit is just the self-recognition of the Spirit, the invisible church must be wherever this self-same Spirit is, i.e., throughout all Christendom. The universal impulse to externalize the common consciousness in determinate forms results in variety, difference, and separation, as a consequence of the antitheses antecedently existent among men, such as arise from difference of speech, nationality, political and geographical relations, civilization, and many other inner and outer conditions. In this way arise different church societies (communions). But these in no wise involve a destruction of communion with other Christians. Particular separations may arise through the workings of the Spirit as they lead to a perception and rejection of worldly elements which appear in the church, or they may arise from the opposite cause. In the former case the separations are only apparent. For the Spirit is always a principle of unity. It is the mind of the flesh that separates in reality. But at the same time, owing to the unlimited power of attraction possessed by the love of Christ in those persons in whom the Spirit dwells, there can never arise in one communion the desire that another communion may be annihilated; but there must ever arise efforts to express the oneness of spirit in attempted unions. There is always the implicit acknowledgment that all these separated communions form, potentially, according to divine arrangement, a larger communion capable of including all Christians when the necessary conditions are present. If two professedly Christian communions have nothing in common, then one or both is un-Christian. But such a total annulling of this communion is impossible so long as both hold to their historical connection with the revelation proclaimed in the Gospel and no other revelation is acknowledged as the basis of their origin. Hence even heretics are in the church after all. Present differences and divisions in the Christian church are only relative and destined to disappear in the final realization of unity. The invisible church is infallible, but the visible church is liable to error. Here we consider truth and error only in the religious sphere. In the activity of the pious consciousness truth and error are always mingled, because the persistence of sensuousness renders our conception of the aim of the church and our relation to it more or less impure and false. Every one finds the source of error in himself, and therefore believes it is always present in some degree in all. But, on the other hand, with the confession of Christ the truth is ever present. Hence there can be no church-communion which is entirely destitute of it. The same must have been true of the early church and of the apostles as individuals; but the whole church and the whole truth being in the common spirit, the false tendencies of the individuals naturally annul one another, and hence the church invisible possesses the whole truth and is infallible. This allows, how ever, that every partial-church can err even in its official presentations. Nor would an individual church at any one point of time possess the whole truth, for every period has its one-sidedness, which a later time corrects. Therefore no doctrinal statements, even if unanimously offered, would express final and perfect truth. Everyone must test them for himself and acknowledge them as Christian in so far as they harmonize with his personal religious consciousness or with Scripture. The improvement of public doctrine becomes not only a personal duty but also a right in the exercise of which he is to suffer no limitation. The gradual improvement of the church's doctrine will be a consequence. Now the error existing in every part of the church being an error in relation to the truth which it possesses, the degree of error must be gradually diminished, the more the Holy Spirit in the church appropriates the organism of thought in its members. This is wrought out through the influence of the whole church upon the individual members in its public services, and through the influence of all those who are specially endowed with a clear Christian consciousness. We may conclude, therefore, that all error is finally to be banished. THIRD DIVISION: THE PERFECTING OF THE CHURCH (§§ 157-63) The sufficient ground of the perfecting of the church lies in the Holy Spirit as its common life-principle. That perfection implies, on the one hand, the expansion of Christianity over the whole earth and the disappearance of all other religious communions with their opposing and contaminating influences; and, on the other hand, it implies that the church ceases to take the world into itself. That is to say, that the present increasing conflict with sin which is characteristic of the church militant--owing to the consciousness of sin which is continuously being renewed by the propagation of the race--gives place to that condition in which the church has assimilated the world, that is, the church triumphant. But our Christian consciousness is unable to set forth as its immediate self-expression the condition of the perfected church because it is without analogy in our experience and would exist under conditions entirely unknown to us. Strictly speaking, therefore, there can be no doctrine of that state. Yet the biblical prefigurations of the future life have received so much attention in the church that we are under the necessity of inquiring as to their source. None of the New Testament utterances on this subject can become to us articles of faith to be received on authoritative testimony because, surpassing our powers of apprehension, they constitute no description of our actual self-consciousness, and consequently they may have a place in a doctrinal system (Glaubenslehre) only in so far as they concern the person of the Redeemer and our relation to him. Now, although faith in the persistence of the human personality after death, or, to use the common expression, in the immortality of the soul, is found universally and prevailed in the time of Christ and his apostles, it is not on that account entitled to a place in Christian doctrine. How, then, came this faith to be united with our Christian religious conscience? There are two possible ways: either it was discovered by intellectual processes and became objective truth, or it was originally given in and with the immediate self-consciousness with or without connection with the fundamental God-consciousness. If in the former way, then the doctrine pertains to the sphere of the higher natural science and depends on scientific investigation. But scientific study on the contrary often gives rise to opposition to the belief in immortality, The so-called rational proofs of immortality are nothing more than attempts to relate this belief to the body of scientific knowledge. To give these arguments a place in our Christian doctrine is to base dogmatics on philosophy. As to the other possibility, while there is a denial of immortality which is connected with atheism, on the other hand there may be a renunciation of personal continuance which springs from a view of Spirit as creative and self-expressive. On this view individual souls may be a product of the transitory action of Spirit and there fore themselves transitory. This is quite compatible with the supremacy of the God-consciousness, the purest ethics, and the highest spirituality. Conversely, immortality may be postulated out of a selfish interest in the sensuous life where morality and religion are only a means to enjoyment. It is evident therefore that faith in personal continuance is not essentially connected with the God-consciousness. The true Christian ground of the assurance of immortality lies in faith in the Redeemer himself. His confidence in his own personal continuance is seen in his promises of a reunion with his followers. He could say these things only as a human person, and on account of the sameness of human nature in him and in us the same confidence is valid in our case. Faith in the Redeemer demands the immutability of our connection with him. In that life-union with him lies the true Christian assurance of personal continuance. In this way we see that he became the mediator of immortality, not only to those who believe in him, but to all without exception. For if immortality had not pertained to human nature, then a union of the divine being with human nature constituting such a personality as that of the Redeemer would not have been possible. Faith in the continuance of our personality is naturally accompanied by an effort to represent that state in some of the forms of the imagination. The attempted solution of the problem how to represent the church in its perfection and at the same time the state of the souls of men in the future life, appears in the ecclesiastical doctrine of "last things." But it is impossible to combine the two in one harmonious representation. The perfection of the church, i.e., an end of development (which comports with the idea of retribution), supposes a state of the individual soul entirely unlike the present; on the other hand, the supposition of a state of the individual soul like the present, i.e., a state of progressive development (which harmonizes with the idea of personal continuance), annuls the perfection of the church. Accordingly, the doctrines relating to this point are of less value as dogmatic than those already treated. They rest upon our power of anticipation, which is incompetent to construct a harmonious representation of the future state. On that account we cannot ascribe to the confessional articles on this question the same dignity as to those already treated. They may be designated Prophetical Articles. Continuance of personal existence as the abolition of death appears under the representation of the resurrection of the body. The perfection of the church, as conditioned on the one hand by the exclusion of the unbelieving from further influence upon the church, appears under the representation of the final judgment, separation of believers and unbelievers. As contrasted on the other hand with the "church militant," and implying the exclusion of imperfection in believers, it is presented as eternal blessedness. The condemnation of unbelievers not being a matter of Christian experience is no separate article of faith. Finally the comprehension and necessary condition of the whole is presented under the representation of Christ's return (§§ 157-59). FIRST PROPHETICAL ARTICLE: CHRIST'S RETURN The Synoptists report sayings of Christ before his death to the effect that he will come again at the fall of Jerusalem. Though he is not represented as repeating such promises personally to his disciples in his resurrection communications with them, they were unable to conceive that those promises had been fulfilled. Similarly, after the destruction of the city the literal interpretation of his words was inconsistently retained, and even though in later times Chiliasm has been mostly abandoned, still the view that he will return in person at the end of the present condition of the earth has continued almost universal to the present time. Apart from this literal interpretation we have no biblical guarantee of his personal return or of a universal separation of the good and the bad; and yet no representation of these events is possible, for every attempted definite image of the event dissolves, and in lieu of a physical presence we are able to retain only his powerful activity in relation to world-affairs. It is evident, then, that the Christian consciousness of union with Christ is not satisfied with his spiritual presence in the church in the midst of our present condition of growth and change. In order to the realization of our personal continuance in union with him and, at the same time, of the perfection of the church, there is predicated an exercise of the sovereign power of Christ that puts an end to the propagation of the race and to the mingling of the good and the bad, so that by one sudden leap the church, heretofore subject to a wavering growth, becomes perfect. Accordingly the second coming of Christ is conceived as a return to judgment, and the permanence of the union of the divine essence with human nature in Christ becomes the guarantee that this nature will not be subject to that dissolution which would result from cosmic forces. Thus the imagery of the doctrine results from the interest in personal continuance, but its certainty rests on the perfection of the church (§ 160). SECOND PROPHETICAL ARTICLE: THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY The consciousness of the union of the body and soul in our personality renders it impossible for us to represent to ourselves the immortality of the soul apart from a bodily existence, without giving up the identity of our personal life before death and after. The continuity of self-consciousness seems impossible apart from memory, which, like other mental functions, appears dependent on bodily relations, so that the existence of the soul under entirely different physical relations would be inconsistent with its continuous self-identity. But the conception of the similarity of the present and the future life is, on the other hand, inconsistent with the perfection of the church. So that on this ground we are under the opposite necessity of conceiving the nature of the future world as different from the present, the body being conceived as immortal and sexual distinctions as lost; other wise the conflict between flesh and spirit, and there fore sin fulness, would remain. The incompatibility of the representation of future personal continuance with the representation of the perfected church further appears in the abortive at tempts to offer a representation of the intermediate state and to adjust its relation to the resurrection state and to the general judgment. We conclude that it is impossible to present a definite and consistent representation of the connection between the present and the future life. There remains as the essential content of this article: (1) the ascension of the risen Redeemer is only possible if there lies before all human individuals in the future life a renewal of organic life connected with our present state; (2) the unfolding of a future state is conditioned on the divine power of Christ and on cosmical changes effected through the universal divine world-government, though the representation of these changes is a problem never perfectly to be solved by men (§ 161). THIRD PROPHETICAL ARTICLE: THE FINAL JUDGMENT The fundamental idea underlying Christ's representation of the Final Judgment is the total separation of the church from the world so far as the perfection of the former excludes all influence of the latter. But to suppose that this means a total separation between believers and unbelievers is to conceive wrongly the distinction of the visible and the invisible church, inasmuch as it overlooks the fact that the influence of the world upon the church consists mainly in the fleshly character which inheres in believers even till death. Besides, a sanctification effected by such a sudden deliverance destroys the continuous nature of personal consciousness and introduces a magical element into sanctification, thereby compromising the value of life-fellowship with Christ. Further, such a separation of believers from unbelievers seems intended to secure the happiness of believers rather than their perfection, inasmuch as it is only by the contact of believers with unbelievers that many perfections of the former come to manifestation. Yet even that happiness would be destroyed by the pain which arises from sympathy with the lost. Finally, the contemplation of the righteousness of God, as exhibited in the final rejection of unbelievers, could afford no counterbalancing satisfaction, because the element of arbitrariness is thereby introduced into the idea of God. That which is of value in the idea of the final judgment is: (1) that perfect fellowship with Christ renders all evil non-existent for us, even in the presence of wickedness; (2) that if we are to conceive of the church as perfect while a portion of the human race remains excluded from the workings of its spirit, this is because that portion of the race is proof against it and consequently continues out of all contact with it (§ 162). FOURTH PROPHETICAL ARTICLE: ETERNAL BLESSEDNESS The condition of believers after their restoration to life may be conceived under two forms: (1) a sudden, but unchanging possession of the Most High; (2) a gradual elevation to the Most High but, like the development of Christ, without retrogression or conflict. But the attempt to give a representation of the two states introduces peculiar difficulties. The former annuls the connection with the present life and implies, in the equally perfect state of all believers, the want of that mutual influence which is involved in a perfect life and necessary to its externalization. The second would involve disharmonies and waverings with the consequent dissatisfaction and consciousness of imperfection, which in a free existence is consciousness of guilt. Indeed the outcome is a view of the future life as in all essential features a repetition of the present. The problem therefore remains unsolved. What, then, is that which we receive in that future life? The common answer is, that eternal life consists in the vision of God. But wherein does that consciousness of God differ from the present? In its immediacy in contrast with the mediate character of the present? But this is hardly consistent with the preservation of the personality. So that, from which ever side the problem is approached, it seems that we must remain uncertain as to the manner in which the state which is the highest perfection of the church can be obtained and possessed by an immortal personality (§ 163). APPENDIX: ETERNAL CONDEMNATION It has usually been assumed that the figurative discourses of Christ which are supposed to refer to those who die out of fellowship with him represent them as in a state of permanent unhappiness. (See Matt. 25:46; Mark 9:44; John 5:29. ) But an examination of the connections (Matt. 24:30-34; John 5:24, 25) and of passages with an opposite representation (I Cor. 15:25, 26) throws doubt upon this view. Moreover, eternal condemnation cannot be conceived apart from such a condition as either implies spiritual progress on the part of the damned or unhappiness on the part of the blessed. Accordingly, the milder doctrine that through the power of the redemption at some time there will be a universal restoration of all human souls possesses an equal right. NOTE.--All attempts to develop the idea of the individual future life and its relations to the present life out of the idea of the perfection of the church and its relation to the unperfected church, or to make a place for the perfected church by means of the idea of the future life, turn to myths, i.e., a historical presentation of the super-historical, or to visions, i.e., an earthly presentation of the super-earthly. "These were every where the forms of the prophetical, which in its higher meaning made no claim to produce a knowledge in the proper sense, but is only determined to shape principles already acknowledged into motives of action." Section 3. Those Attributes of God Which Are Related to Redemption (§§ 164-69) For the Christian consciousness everything in the universe is viewed in relation to the redemption, either as organic to the self-expression of the awakened God-consciousness, or as material to be manipulated by it. From this same point of view the divine world-government requires to be described. But we are here to be on our guard against falling into the error of treating this divine government of the world as supervening upon the creation in the way of something additional or supplementary. They are at bottom the same thing. The Christian faith that all things were made with a view to the self-revelation of God in the flesh and the establishment of the kingdom of God by the extension of that revelation to the whole range of human nature, requires therefore that the divine world-government consist in no mere isolated acts of influence upon a world which pursues its own course in general independently of such interference; but rather the divine world-government and the course of Nature, the natural world and the kingdom of grace, fill the same sphere. That is to say, the whole ordering of Nature from the beginning would have been other than it is had not the redemption through Christ been determined for the sinning race. As for intelligences other than human, we have no such knowledge of their relation to us as would enable us to include more than our own human world--that realm in which redemption is effected--in our survey of the divine government. Since, as has been already shown (§ 46, note), that element of our self-consciousness which we call the consciousness of sin cannot be referred immediately to the divine causality, but mediately only through the consciousness of grace, the latter element must be the determining one. We may say, then, that the nature of things and all the complexity of their relations have come to be what they are on account of the revelation of God in Christ which redeems men, or develops the human spirit to perfection. Consequently the whole course of human affairs and of natural events would have been other than it is, had not God decreed the union of the divine essence with human nature in Christ and with the communion of believers through the Holy Spirit. Accordingly from the unity of the divine causality it follows that the church or the kingdom of God, in its whole extension and in the full effect of its development, is the one object of the divine world-government, and every individual object of the divine government is such only in relation to this one object and for this alone. Hence the absurdity of a division of God's providence into general and special, and the inconsistency of eternal damnation with the divine world-government. A distinction of attributes can appear in the divine world-government only by viewing the divine causality from human standpoints. As in our apprehension of human causality we distinguish inner intention from the mode of its execution, so also divine causality on its inner side as a unity may be described as will; but on its outer side in relation to its object as a manifold, it may be regarded as understanding. The redemption and the founding of the kingdom of God, in which there is a union of the divine essence with human nature, being the focal point of the divine world-government, the inner thought (disposition) exhibited in this is divine love, which is just the will to unite with and dwell in another. And the skill by which the totality of existences is subjected to this end of realizing the divine love is divine wisdom, which is just the perfect correspondence of processes with the end conceived in all its relations. But while in man will and understanding never perfectly correspond, in God they are one, 1. The Divine Love The divine love, as the attribute by virtue of which the divine nature communicates itself, is made known in the work of redemption. If it be objected, on the one hand, that this view is mystical and overlooks the love of God in those courses of Nature and of human affairs that conserve and elevate the life; and, on the other hand, that it is too narrow because it fails to recognize that all spiritual development depends on the possession of reason which is the image of God in man, it may be replied to the first objection, that the highest elevation of life is in the God-consciousness, which is suppressed outside the sphere of the Christian redemption; and to the second, that while all men have the capacity for the God-consciousness, yet fear and not love pervades their minds before receiving Christ's redemption, and no human good of any kind which is not brought into connection with the God-consciousness can relate itself properly to the divine love. When we assert that "God is love," meaning there by that love is the sole attribute which can be equated with the being or essence of God, we are not to be understood as accepting any conception of God which has been obtained in a speculative way, but we have only to show why this attribute of God is thus differentiated from the others which have been presented already. While, as has been said already, the divine omnipotence is that attribute by virtue of which all finite things exist, this entire divine act is thereby posited without motive. The same is true of the other divine attributes treated above. None of these can be by themselves original expressions of the divine essence. Righteousness and holiness imply the antithesis between Good and Bad which cannot exist for God in himself. These attributes act in a limited sphere and they are subordinate to love and wisdom, that is, in the work of redemption they are to be reckoned as preparatory. Again, while both love and wisdom express the very essence of God, we cannot say that God is wisdom as we say that God is love, because we have the immediate consciousness of love only in the consciousness of redemption and it is the ground of the representation of all the other divine attributes. It is when we extend our personal and our race-consciousness to the whole complex of forces in the universe that we see that wisdom is the perfection of love. Where almighty love is, there must absolute wisdom be (§§ 166, 167). 2. The Divine Wisdom According to our position in an earlier portion of this work, wisdom and omniscience in God are the same, only the former corresponds to the antecedent view of his operations and the latter to the consequent view. Wisdom is the divine work regarded as producing such a world as if it were an absolutely coherent divine work of art; that is, such a work as, after the analogy of the human, constitutes a simple and originally perfect self-presentation or, rather, communication of the Supreme Being. The development of our consciousness of the wisdom of God consists in this, that this communication in its temporal progress becomes to us ever increasingly a perfect presentation of the almighty love of God. We do not thereby admit the antithesis of end and means in the world, except in the sense that the means is embraced in the end, as a part in the whole. To the Christian the redemption is the key to the understanding of the divine wisdom, and the whole divine economy is interpreted in the light of the revelation of God in Christ and the Holy Spirit. But this by no means implies a desire to find in individual occurrences a particular relation to the kingdom of God. This would degenerate into an opposition to scientific investigation. Nay, such occurrences as, presumably, are unconnected with the world-system and yet can not be separated from human concerns, must turn to the damage of the progress of the redemption and must also be excluded from the provisions of the divine wisdom. All things in the world that can be ascribed to the divine wisdom must also be referable to the redeeming new-creating revelation of God. Thus the peculiar work of the wisdom of God is just the extension of the redemption. This means, of course, that the most minute investigation of the facts of nature and the effort to penetrate into the hidden depths of the divine purpose are to be commended (§§ 168, 169). Conclusion: The Divine Trinity (§§ 170-72) Our whole apprehension of Christianity stands or falls with the union of the Divine Being with human nature, This union appears first in the person of Christ, and by virtue of it the idea of redemption is concentrated in his person. It appears also in the common spirit of the church, and by virtue of this, the church bears and propagates the redemption through Christ. These are the essential elements of the church doctrine of the Trinity. The defense of the doctrine has been moved by the religious interest--the concern to conserve the absolute character of the redemption by rejecting the idea of subordinate divinities in Christ and the Holy Spirit. This is confirmed by the fact that those parties in the church which have denied the Trinity have held an entirely different view of the redemption on all sides of it. The doctrine of the Trinity is the keystone of the whole structure of Christian doctrine with respect to this essential point: the equivalence of the divine nature in Christ and in the spirit of the church with the divine nature in itself. But to the further elaboration of this dogma in the creeds and confessions the same value cannot be as signed. In these the union of the divine with the human in Christ and in the Spirit of the church is referred back to an eternal separation within the Supreme Being in dependently of these two acts of union. Then the member of this separated Being who was designated to the union with Jesus is named Son; and the same process taking place in reference to the Holy Spirit, the other member is called Father. In this way arose the description of God as a unity of essence with a trio- of persons. But such a separation within the Supreme Being is no expression of a religious consciousness and never could be. Such a doctrine of the Trinity cannot be made to rest upon the Logos-doctrine of John's Gospel, for this logology has seemed to afford support to the Arian and Athanasian formulae alike, and its interpretation is not settled. If such a doctrine was in John's mind, why did he not set forth a similar statement concerning the Holy Spirit, especially since he mentions the Spirit so frequently in his gospel, and why did he offer no caution against polyolatry? Nor can this doctrine be framed from the statements of Christ and his apostles as a combination of authoritative testimonies concerning a supersensuous fact. That would be just as little a doctrine of faith (Glaubenslehre) in the original and proper sense of the word as are the doctrines of the resurrection and the ascension. Moreover this supposedly transcendental fact does not affect our faith in Christ or our fellowship with him. NOTE.--A doctrine of the Trinity derived from universal conceptions, or a priori, could have no place in Christian doctrine, even if there were a verbal coincidence, and could render no service to it. Such a doctrine in itself would not be of a religious character for its source is different. The difficulty of conceiving each of three persons as equal to two others and to the divine essence is beyond the compass of thought. If the Godhead of all three DC less than the one supreme Essence, then our life-fellowship with Christ and our participation in the Holy Spirit are no fellowship with God, and all that is most valuable in Christianity is altered. If each be equal to the others, the difficulty is to find the rule for the distinction of the persons without the introduction of some elements that involves inequality. This is manifest in the Catholic statements of the doctrine. Similar contradictions appear in the canons which have been offered for the representation of the relation of the triplicity of persons to the unity of the Essence. If we assume triplicity we do not reach the unity, and if we assume the unity there is no room for triplicity. We possess no analogies whereon to base such a representation. The ecclesiastical doctrine, therefore, can furnish no support to the fundamental truth of Christianity. The same difficulty arises when we attempt to relate each and all of the three persons to the divine causality. The dogmaticians have felt this, for they all assume the divinity of the Father and attempt to prove that of the Son and the Spirit, which shows that notwithstanding formal orthodoxy they actually follow Origen in holding that the Father alone is absolutely God and that Son and Spirit are God only by participation. The traditional trinitarian formulae come to us from a time when the great mass of Christians were recently recruited from heathenism. It was a very easy matter for echoes of heathen thought to steal in when the question of plurality or distinction in God was discussed, and it is just as natural to find that the definitions presented in those earlier times should be quite unsuited to later times when a mingling of heathen elements is no longer to be feared. If the value of the doctrine lies in the affirmation that God is in Christ and in the common spirit of the church, then there arises the problem how to relate the peculiar existence of God in another to his existence in and for himself and in relation to the world in general. But there is no prospect of obtaining a formula which will be sufficient for all time inasmuch as, since we have to do only with that God-consciousness which is given in our self-consciousness and with the world-consciousness, we have no available formula for the expression of the existence of God in himself as distinct from his existence in the world, and we are driven to borrow the desired formula from speculation; but that is to be untrue to the nature of dogmatics. And inasmuch as all our dogmatical expressions for the relation of God to the world are unavoidably anthropomorphic, how can we expect to avoid the same defect when we approach the complicated problem of distinguishing the peculiar (personal) existence of God in Christ as an individual and his existence in the church as a historical whole from the omnipotent presence of God in the world in general, of which the other two are yet only parts? It is evident that the solution of the problem of the Trinity can be only approximate and progressive. Interest in it must rise ever afresh. We can expect no final statement. It will remain a problem. The customary placing of the doctrine of the Trinity at the head of the dogmatical system gives the misleading impression which, nevertheless, the history of the church contradicts, that the acceptance of this doctrine is the indispensable condition of faith in the redemption and in the founding of the kingdom of God in Christ and in the Holy Spirit. Such a procedure results in making speculation rather than the Christian consciousness the basis of Christian doctrine. __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ III. AN ESTIMATE A clear apprehension of the value of Schleiermacher's theological system is not to be obtained apart from an examination of the manner in which the treatment of religious questions by the Christian scholars of modern times has been affected by his views, and a consideration of the extent to which his doctrinal discussions supply a solution of the difficulties that confront faith at the present. The amount of attention that is now being given by German students to this subject is significant of the large place he has secured among his countrymen, and a broad survey of the direction of religious thought in the world at large indicates the prophetical character of his insight into the religious needs of our own day. All that will be attempted in the present connection is to offer a few suggestions respecting the worth of his system that may be of some use to the reader whose acquaintance with recent theological speculation is limited. There were some among Schleiermacher's contemporaries who saw that the publication of his mature views in Der christliche Glaube constituted a notable landmark in Christian thought. His friend Gass wrote (see the entire letter in Schleiermachers Briefwechsel wit Gass, Berlin, 1852, pp. 193 ff.) in November, 1822: "On this point no man shall dispute me, that with thy dogmatics a new epoch will begin not only in this discipline but in the whole of theological science." The truth of this prediction soon began to appear. A succession of notable German theologians received their theological impulse from him, and while scarcely any one of them can be called a mere disciple of his, for he founded no school of thought strictly speaking, an important part of their contributions to theology consists in the development of the fruitful ideas found in germ on almost every page of his great work. Men like Nitsch, Twesten, Schweizer, Hofmann, Julius Müller, the famous present-day thinkers of the Ritschlian school, such as Harnack, Kaftan, and Herrmann, gladly admit their indebtedness to him, while Albrecht Ritschl, who gave to this school its name, owes a large portion of the fabric of his system to Schleiermacher. Even during his lifetime Schleiermacher's influence was powerfully felt in Germany. No doubt the peculiar charm of his personality had something to do with it, but the warmth of his piety and the vigor of his thinking are the chief reasons. For the impression made by his views has increased with the passage of time and the interest in them continues unabated to the present. No school of religious thought in that country is without elements of theology derived from him, not even the school that seems the most opposed to him, the Hegelian. By his recognition of the originality of the religious endowment and his insistence on its basic relation to all the forms of religious expression, by his admission of the full right of biblical criticism and at the same time his demand for a religious interpretation of Scripture, and by his tendency toward free-churchism as opposed to state-control he became the head of a liberal movement which adopted his free attitude toward the creeds. On the other hand, by taking his stand distinctly within Protestantism and seeking to find in the accepted creeds and confessions an inner connection with the Christian religion in the wide sweep of its implications, he imparted a stimulus to those conservative "confessional" theologians who aimed at maintaining the authority of the standards of the Lutheran and Reformed churches. At the same time the school of mediating theologians found a fore runner in him. The general dependence on Schleiermacher is evident in the attempts of men of all schools to solve the problems of theology along the lines suggested by him and to clear his system of what seemed to them defects. What is true of Germany is true in an appreciable degree of England and America. Modern theology is in no small degree a development of the ideas of Schleiermacher. I. HIS INFLUENCE ON THE CONCEPTION AND METHOD OF THEOLOGICAL SCIENCE In his Outlines of Theological Science (Kurze Darstellung des theologischen Stadiums), to which reference has been made in an earlier part of this work, Schleiermacher had presented a scheme of the treatment of the science of theology as a whole, exhibiting its various disciplines as expressive severally of a fundamental religious principle and as; constituting in their mutual relations and their inner unity an organism of the Christian consciousness. In his Glaubenslehre (the systematic presentation of the Christian faith, which has been set forth in the body of this work) this conception of theology was carried out more in detail and at great length in the section on dogmatics. Instead of the haphazard treatment of the common theological disciplines which, unfortunately, is still very general among theologians and in which the arrangement and method of treatment are determined largely by empirical considerations, with the result that each of these disciplines holds a purely contingent place in our religious reflection, their very existence and their integration in a system are made dependent on their fundamental relation to a determinate mode of faith. For example, apologetics, church history, practical theology, are not to be brought to the service of Christianity from without or borrowed from philosophy or science, but they spring out of the very nature of the Christian spirit as it seeks to express and propagate itself. Accordingly their value is always to find its main test in their faithfulness to the religious attitude of mind out of which they spring. In consequence theology is pre served from degenerating into a cast-iron system of doctrine or a system of mechanical rules which cramp and paralyze the spirit. Instead, there arises the necessity of the free development of theology pari passu with the free activity of the spirit of religion. In this way Schleiermacher helped to save Protestant theology from the withering effects of an orthodox despotism and a dry scholasticism and made it live again. Notwithstanding his inadequate apprehension of the nature of religion in general and his defective view that theology arises out of church needs and finds its aim in church guidance, it is to his lasting credit that he pointed out that the value of theological science and the direction of its development must al ways be determined by its relation to practical religious needs--in the case of Christianity to the imperative propagation of the Christian faith. That is, Christian theology serves its end only when it becomes a support and a guide to Christian evangelism. Closely allied to this service is another of like kind. Before his time an assumption common to the orthodox and the rationalists was that theology presents to our minds a sum of objective facts or truths, whether the knowledge of them came by external communication or sensible observation or by philosophical reflection aided and supplemented by inference. Religious faith was a consequence of receiving this objective knowledge. It requires only a little reflection to see that in any instance the theory makes the scientist, the philosopher, or the theologian an authority in religion to which the consciousness of the common man is subject. When, as is sure to happen with progress, portions of this supposed knowledge turn out to be unreliable or even bogus, faith is shaken or shattered and the spirit is kept in terror of losing its hold on reality by the discovery of new facts that contradict the system of knowledge out of which its religion came. Schleiermacher's insistence on the original relation of the religious experience to theology and doctrine elevates the life of the common man, curbs the proud spirit of the intellectual aristocrat, and gives to faith its rightful place as the root rather than the product of the progress of knowledge. Schleiermacher's influence contributed to introduce a new treatment of several of the theological disciplines, particularly the Philosophy of Religion, Apologetics, Church History, and Dogmatics. (1) PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION The earlier sporadic attempts at a philosophy of religion proceeded according to a wrong method and on false assumptions. The opponents of orthodoxy attempted to adjust the facts of religion to an abstract doctrine of the world or of human nature arrived at independently of an analysis of the religious consciousness or of its actual history. The orthodox theory, in turn, was rather a philosophy of revelation or of the "plan of salvation." Both sides proceeded in ignorance of the facts when they assumed that the history of religion was a history of the increasing corruption of the original pure religion. Schleiermacher compelled theologians to approach the matter from a new viewpoint: First, by emphasizing the historical character of Christianity and placing it in a definite relation to the progress of religion in general, he drew attention to the basis of fact, without which a philosophy of religion is a worthless speculation, and gave a profound significance to it. By thus supplying an impulse to the comparative study of religions he forced the abandonment of the customary contrast between Christianity as the exclusively true religion and all other religions as exclusively false, which, as Professor Brown (Essence of Christianity, p. 175) points out, had been characteristic of Christian thought on the subject from Barnabas to Kant. While the state of the knowledge of the history of religions at the time rendered his own philosophy of religion of little lasting worth his conception of the subject anticipated modern methods. Second, holding religion to be an essential element of our self-conscious existence and viewing man whether in the individual or in the race as a unity, he pointed out that the unfolding of the religious life is bound up with the whole of our symmetrical human progress from the lower plane of the flesh to the higher plane of the spirit. There are inklings of this view in Lessing and Hume, but Schleiermacher was the first to present it in a well-thought-out form. In no other way can we attain to a philosophy of religion worthy of the name. A fine statement of his service in this field is given by Bender (Schleiermacher's Theologie mit ihren philosophischen Grundlagen, Vorwort, iv): "Schleiermacher's greatest service is the fruitful application of the analytical method to the investigation of the religious process in itself and in its relation to the whole spiritual (intelligent) life; and as a complement to this ever one-sided subjective method he emphatically postulated the comparative investigation of positive religions: that has been the firm starting-point and central viewpoint of all succeeding theology." (2) APOLOGETICS Apologetics has been recast. The age that closed with Hume and Kant was prolific in apologies for Christianity, but they all were cumbered with the false assumption that was held in common by the orthodox and the rationalists, that religion consists of doctrines to be believed. The difference between them was in the quantum of the credenda. Dependence on external authority turned apologetics into a collection of "evidences." With his usual keen discernment of the problems of his time Schleiermacher saw that the first need of the apologist was a new definition of that which was to receive its theoretical justification, a new statement of the essence of Christianity. Herein he recognized the historical relation of apologetics to dogmatics: it is the prius of dogmatics. There were two contentions urged by him: first, that religion is an integral and necessary element of our self-consciousness and hence our recognition of this fact must be distinguished from our estimate of its value; second, that Christian faith is related fundamentally to the person of Jesus Christ. It is to be admitted, of course, that he did not himself realize fully the value of a historical study of our religion. His own view of Christ was speculative rather than historical. In this he shared the defects of his time, and yet it remains to his credit that, as Brown says (op. cit. p. 176): "Schleiermacher was the first modern theologian to write a definition of Christianity in which the name of its founder occupies the central place." Here again he prepared the way for modern developments. The Life-of-Jesus movement is a part of the new tendency he inaugurated. The battle on behalf of Christianity has been fought on side-issues too long. The scattered and ill-ordered defense which till very recent times has been characteristic of English and American apologetics must at length make way for an analysis of its fundamental nature, a valuation of its traditional elements and a philosophy of its beliefs, if the needs of our times are to be met. (3) CHURCH HISTORY Apart from the consideration that Schleiermacher's view of the teleological nature of the Christian religion and his emphasis on the cardinal relation of its Founder toward it strengthened the new interest in church history, this department of theology was influenced by him in a special way. It was mainly through reading the Discourses (Reden) that the great Neander was led from Judaism to a warm Christian faith. The peculiar stamp of his great teacher can be detected in Neander's treatment of church history as history of the Christian religion. In our times the value of Schleiermacher's insight into the relation of religion to the origin and life of the religious community appears in the gradual displacement of ecclesiastical history by the history of religions. (4) DOGMATICS It is most of all in the department of dogmatics that Schleiermacher's theological influence has been manifest. His principles lead to the annihilation of dogma in the old sense of a formal doctrine necessary to salvation. Dogma in that sense is promulgated by authority. Its truth is independent, and it is to be received independently, of experience; it is a law to faith rather than an utterance of faith. Christian dogmas were a determination of the course the Christian religion in man must take, rather than a description of the course it actually does take. The Christian religion was at the bottom statutory and its experiential character a matter of secondary importance. The whole Roman Catholic system rests on this assumption, and Protestant theology unfortunately followed, the difference between them being in degree. The difference that was most in evidence was in the authority obeyed. Hence traditional Protestantism held to certain doctrines as authoritatively revealed truths. When their unification was not accomplished the doctrines of the faith appeared as so many membra disjecta. This was the form in which theology appeared in Melanchthon's Loci Communes and which German dogmaticians inherited from him. By exhibiting Christian doctrine as the expression of a distinct type of religious life Schleiermacher inaugurated a revolution in the conception and method of Christian theology. He elevated the conscious inner life above formal doctrine and subjected the latter to the test of conformity to the former. He made theology a descriptive rather than a normative science. Doctrinal forms become fluent rather than static. They become symbols of a progressive religious life and at the same time a means of its further development, which again reacts upon the doctrinal statements, so that they become in time evidently inadequate and must submit to reconstruction. His position involved a radical change in the common view of the source and authority of Christian doctrine. The Bible was regarded as a body of divine legislation or pronouncements. The proof-text method of handling the Scriptures was a consequence. The violence thereby done to the Scriptures and to Christianity itself is plain to us today. Schleiermacher saw that within and behind and beyond the Bible there was a power of spiritual life of which our Christian doctrines become such interpretations as the human mind at any stage of its progress is capable of giving to this vital reality. The various doctrines arise out of the manifold relations of the spirit of Christianity to the world of experience which itself is ever changing. This interpretation of the place of doctrine connects Schleiermacher with the Anabaptists and the early utterances of Luther rather than with the confessional booths. We may claim, therefore, that Schleiermacher has not only liberalized Protestant theology and paved the way for a new basis and a new method of treatment, but he has also spiritualized and Christianized it. For the liberalism of Schleiermacher was not the liberalism of the rationalists and the "free-thinkers" who have reduced the content of religion to the limits of their boasted "reason"; but it was a liberalism that grew out of the consciousness of a life in communion with God which is unutterably rich and cannot submit to limitation by the forms of thought or worship or organization that have arisen at any period of its history. Me has Christianized theology. For by positing the essence of Christianity as the basic principle of any system that can claim to exhibit Christian truth, and by finding in the person of Christ in his redemptive relation to us the root of all that is Christian, he pointed out the means of differentiating the truly Christian from the pseudo-Christian doctrines. Many objections have been made to the general principles of his dogmatics. Of these objections we may notice three: First, it is said that his conception of theology is subversive of the authority of all doctrine. It is true that the separate authority of all doctrinal formulae is destroyed. Authority is transferred to the religious spirit--let us say, the Spirit of God, Authority, nevertheless, remains, not legal, but dynamic. Second, it is said that Schleiermacher's view makes religion individualistic and subjective and does away with its normative character. There is no space here to answer this objection at length, but this may be said in reply: Religion that is not a matter of subjective experience is not religion at all, and doctrine that does not express subjective conviction is meaning less or worse; while it is also true that every man must be his own theologian, whatever the consequences. At the same time Schleiermacher has indicated a way of escape from mere subjectivism by emphasizing the communion-forming power of Christian faith. Through the continuity and development of the Christian communion a continuous and normal and therefore normative character is secured. Third, objection is made to his classification of dogmatics under the head of historical theology, and with reason. For the aim of dogmatics is to set forth the doctrines that are essential to Christianity, that is, to arrive at a final and complete statement of Christian truth. Yet it is to be remembered that final truth or truths can only approximately be known by us, All dogmas indicate simply stages in our approach to this goal and must be arranged in an order of succession upon earlier attempts to do the same thing. Our dogmas may have final value for ourselves, but for coming generations their value will be historical. We conclude this part of our estimate by saying that Schleiermacher has rendered a priceless service to theological science by compelling the Christian thinker to recognize the vital relation of the inner life to all fundamental doctrinal formulation and the necessity of testing the value of it by the worth of its ministry to that life. II. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON IMPORTANT ELEMENTS OF HIS SYSTEM It is in the actual working out of his theological scheme that Schleiermacher's defects as well as his virtues as a theologian become most evident. A few of the most important elements of his system are here selected for comment with the aim of suggesting lines of criticism that may be carried out through the body of his theology. (1) THE NATURE OF RELIGION The first thing to notice in Schleiermacher's definition of religion is his method of reaching it. True to the tendency of those times to seek for an explanation of the nature of all the forms of human knowledge in psychology, Schleiermacher discovers religion to be an ultimate element of the self-consciousness. Accepting the common division of ultimate psychic facts into feeling, thought, and will, he finds that religion is a universal human experience in the form of feeling. This he regards as no inference but an immediate result of introspection. The analysis of individual experience is supplemented and confirmed by a survey of the inner nature of historical religions of all grades. This union of the results of an examination of personal experience and of historic fact is certainly necessary in order to obtain an adequate view of the nature of religion, but on both sides of his investigation Schleiermacher was cumbered by doubtful pre suppositions. In the first place, he assumes that religion is an elemental fact and the discovery of the form of the elemental experience in which it is seen establishes its universality; whereas it is certain that the religious experience is very complex and is interwoven with all our human experience. Besides, the nature of religion is not more truly ascertained by an examination of our inner experiences than it is by the survey of the activities which it brings into effect. Schleiermacher's method as carried out by him seems to make religion itself an effect. In the next place, objection must be made to his method of using the historical material. To seek for the common element in all the. religions as constitutive of their essence is to treat the lower forms as if for purposes of definition they were as valuable as the higher. The true method is to discover the inner character of the highest religion and to interpret the lower forms in the light of it, to wit: that it is to be understood as the final expression of that which can now be seen in the lower in germinal form. For it is only in so far as the spirit of the higher form can be discovered operating in the lower forms that they are really of any value for the purposes of definition. We notice, next, the definition itself. Religion is described as a form of feeling rather than of thought or will. I think the reasons for his attempt to find religion in feeling are not difficult to discover. There was the reaction in his mind against the traditional orthodoxy and the rationalism that made religion a matter fundamentally of the intellect and disparaged emotion, with the consequence that religion became dry doctrine or abstract morality with a dependence on authority. There was also a reaction in his mind against Kant's theory that religion is tributary to the demands of the categorical imperative, its source being in will. On the positive side, however, his definition of religion is a result of his own deep emotional experience in the devotional meetings of the Moravians, which never lost their worth to him, combined with the influence of the Romanticism that helped to banish the alien rationalism from his mind. His more complete determination of the nature of religion as the feeling of absolute dependence indicates to us the source of the definition. In the religious experience there is a rich and varied play of emotion. Why select the feeling of absolute dependence as fundamental and solely constitutive? The answer is that this definition of it coincided with his world-view and is an inference from it. Spinoza's self-differentiating Substance expressing itself in an infinity of forms, Calvin's God the absolute Will, Leibnitz' monads each mirroring the universe in its individuality, the scientific principle of Causality as the final explanation of all phenomena, combined to impress on his mind the conception of religion as the expression of the unity of the universe in the human soul or, as otherwise expressed, the effect of which God alone can be predicated as the Cause. Here God is Causality, or, as he says in one place, God is the Whence of our religious experience. Schleiermacher thinks God is given in and with the feeling of absolute dependence, but if so it is only as Causality he is given--he is no Personal Being. I think it is plain that his definition of religion is an inference from his conception of the world. He appears to have fallen into the common fault of the theologian, that of drawing his religious doctrines from his metaphysics instead of evolving a world-view that is a product of religious faith. His account of religion is also too meager. For religion embraces all the activities of the human spirit. It is at the root of the noblest, most elevated, most refined feeling and also of the purest morality and the keenest and most comprehensive mental action. Schleiermacher vindicates a place for religion alongside of intelligence and morality, whereas it is superior to them, since it supplies the impulse to the cultivation of them and therefore in the best sense embraces them. His definition of religion makes it aesthetic and destitute of moral quality, and seems logically to make progress in religion itself impossible. Notwithstanding, he has rendered valuable service to theology in this definition of religion by insisting on the worth of the emotions, so much disregarded by the theologians of the day. For it is certain that there has never been a far-reaching revival of faith apart from deep emotional experience. More than this, Schleiermacher has himself supplied the corrective of his own defective view in his declaration that Christianity, the highest religion, is teleological in character. Religion is to be defined from the point of view of the end that it seeks. This is to deny that religion is essentially feeling, for the latter sort of religion would be aesthetic in character and not teleological. (2) RELIGION, KNOWLEDGE, AND REVELATION Any theory of religion that finds it in a simple psychological experience will meet with difficulty when it tries to relate this experience to other fundamental activities of our nature. It is incumbent on the theologian to show that his view of religion issues in a view of the world and in a morality that satisfy the claims of our intelligence and our conscience. The first of these is our present concern. If religion does not bring us into a knowledge of reality not otherwise attainable its professions remain unvindicated. The great question is whether in the religious experience we come to know that God exists. If that experience be simply feeling, it can surely lead us nowhere beyond itself. But Schleiermacher affirms that in the feeling of absolute dependence God is immediately given to the religious man. This feeling being original and fundamental to human nature, religion is freed from a dependence on a knowledge of God obtained beforehand by purely intellectual processes and from seeking its justification in the acceptance of a God whose existence is a postulate of the practical reason. He is not to be understood as declaring that the speculations that arrive at a predication of God's existence are useless or invalid, but that the knowledge so obtained is not religious knowledge and that it can constitute no part of dogmatics. We do not proceed from a knowledge of God to a religious experience, nor do we reason from the religious experience to the knowledge of God, for the religious experience and the God-consciousness are one and the same. It is not to be assumed that the God given in religious feeling is identical with the God whose existence is predicated as the outcome of speculative processes. That remains a problem to be solved. Thus far his position is sound. When Schleiermacher goes on to say that we are aware of God as the Whence (Cause) of our religious self-consciousness, it is difficult to see in what respect this statement differs from the affirmation that the being of God is for us an inference from the experience of dependence. If this be so it is not clear why an inference from the other forms of our experience may not be equally valuable for our needs. If religion is independent of science it must surely be unprogressive, for there is no impulse to knowledge in an unqualified feeling. If, however, the religious experience be more comprehensively stated and is made to embrace the moral and the intellectual, the defect indicated may be overcome and the statement may still hold good that it is in the religious experience that we are truly aware of God. If this be not granted, then we are shut up to one of two alternatives. Either we have only the experience of a unique feeling or at least an idea which we objectify and project into a realm beyond all phenomenal existence, so that God becomes only a name for a certain reflection of our consciousness; or else for our knowledge of the existence of God we are ultimately dependent on the information which a competent authority communicates to us. With regard to the second of these, even if it be true that we first came to believe in the existence of God through the affirmation of some trusted human friend and to that extent we obtained a knowledge of God's existence as a supposed fact in the same manner in which many other facts are made known to us, still the competency of any person or body of persons to witness to the existence of God as an objective fact cannot be admitted. Mere "information" can only avail to place his existence among the complex of observable facts, but a God whose existence can be so described is no God. The statement, "There is a God," can have meaning to anyone only on the condition that it appeals to some want of his nature and makes him aware of himself in relation to his higher destiny. Turn to the other alternative. According to Schleiermacher's account, the predication of the existence of God may be nothing more than a psycho logical function. This is to leave us without any adequate explanation of the invincible tendency of the human mind to attach universal validity to its idea of the existence of God and at the same time to attach to it infinite worth. The difficulty arises out of his defective view of the religious consciousness. It does remain true that it is in the religious experience God is given. We become aware of him then. The existence of God is a dogma of religious faith. God is an object of religious knowledge; not that herein we have a positive addition to the sum of our knowledge, any more than in the affirmation of a moral judgment we introduce the knowledge of an additional collection of facts. Moral reality is given in and with moral experience. The certainty that we have moral knowledge is found in the moral experience. Just so is it with religious knowledge. It springs out of religious experience and is implicated in it. That there is a specifically religious experience Schleiermacher abundantly established. The question is, Wherein does this religious knowledge consist? I apprehend that it is unnecessary to assert that knowledge about the objects of sense-perception, whether one's own or another's, cannot be called religious knowledge. The knowledge of events recorded in the Scriptures, the knowledge of ante-mundane or post-mundane facts, the knowledge of facts which angels or inspired persons are supposed to communicate to us, the knowledge of the state of departed spirits which the Society for Psychical Research may announce--none of these things, vary as they may from the absolutely sure and sublime to the absolutely ridiculous, can be designated as religious knowledge for us unless they have their source in a religious experience. We may be made neither more nor less religious by getting this information. Neither is knowledge of a moral law and its operations in itself religious knowledge. Thus far Schleiermacher's contention must be granted. But in his description of the nature of religion he misses the essential point. The religious experience is governed by the consciousness of personality. In it the man conies to true self-consciousness. He knows in it his own worth because in it he comes to know another personality in whom he finds the fulfilment of his longings and the end of his being. It is this recognition of and self-commitment to a personality in whom the desires of his soul find satisfaction that constitute his religion. Some of its forms are very crude but it is universal. In many people it may appear first in absolute trust and devotion to a father or mother, or it may reach its climax in faith in Christ, but everywhere it consists in a personal--thinking, willing, feeling--relation to a dominant personality. In this religious experience there is religious knowledge. It is the knowledge of personality. In religion I become aware that there is a personality to whom I may yield myself absolutely, to whom, accordingly, I owe everything. This personality we call God. The relations in which I find myself with him are most fitly described in the terms of human, personal relation ship. From this point onward we enter upon the task of reinterpreting the world of sensibility and the world of moral conduct in terms of this personality. This is to give a religious interpretation of the world. In the knowledge of God there is given, therefore, a knowledge of the world; not that new facts are added, but all facts are made new. In the capacity of religious experience to furnish this new interpretation of the world the claim that we know God finds its final vindication. It is plain that Schleiermacher's view of religion in relation to knowledge involves a new construction of the idea of revelation. Kaftan (Dogmatik, §4) complains, and rightly, of the obscure place he allows it. From his apprehension of religion as subjective condition rather than objective truth this is to be expected. At the same time here also he has offered suggestions that go far beyond his own views. One of these is that, for the Christian, revelation is not to be considered apart from the person of Christ. An other is that it inheres in his personality. A third is that it affects us not merely as knowing subjects but practically, that is, it is inseparable from the experience of salvation. This means, substantially, that revelation is religious in its nature, not merely that it concerns religious matters, but it is not to be posited in any case where the religious consciousness is not an element in the communication of that which is revealed. Revelation can occur to any man only in so far forth as he is religious. Revelation is saving. To say that we have a revelation from God is to say that we have come into a consciousness of blessedness in relation to him. This seems to carry with it the acceptance of Schleiermacher's contention that revelation is to be posited of a personality and the impression he makes on our minds. For the Christian, therefore, Christ is revelation, not merely a revealer. What he said and did constitute revelation to us only in that his deeds and words are the manifestation to us of a personality whose advent into the sphere of our activity effects a change in our relations with God. If all our relations Godward find their determination in him, then he is the whole of revelation to us. That which is said about him is revelation in a secondary sense, No statement of objective fact can itself be revelation, for revelation is never mere information. The bearing of this conception of revelation on the import of the predictive clement of the Scriptures is obvious. The references in the New Testament, for example, to the things to come appear less in the character of descriptions of events and conditions yet future, than as utterances of the assurance of faith. That is, our future relations to God and the course of affairs cannot be in opposition to our present state of blessedness. On such an interpretation a discovery that an apostolic writer was mistaken in regard to actual matters of fact in the present or the future would give no shock to faith. It seems even to imply that inspired men have no knowledge of the future in the same sense in which we have a knowledge of any fact. This is the view that is brought out in Schleiermacher's Prophetical Articles. All eschatological representations become symbols of a spiritual hope, not forestatements of events. Their value consists not in any positive knowledge they convey but in the inspiration they give to faith and hope. For the times when Schleiermacher wrote this was a revolutionary interpretation of prophecy, and even in our own day it makes progress slowly, but it underlies the whole of the new movement in biblical interpretation. At the same time it must be maintained that there is a knowledge of the future given to faith. For the believer the gospel of Christ brings a guarantee of the ultimate character of future events--they can bring him nothing but good. A forecast of the future issues out of faith. It is impossible for the Christian to believe that he will be abandoned by God, The future cannot bring his Blessed relation to God to an end. The Christian knowledge of the future is a faith-knowledge. It is knowledge of a higher order than that which sense-perception or a philosophy of being can produce. It is a knowledge of our eternal relations with God without which all other knowledge evaporates in phantasy. Without this knowledge all thought of the future is bound to end in despair. It is the only knowledge that enables us to say that for men there is any future whatsoever. This is what gives a deep solemnity to the forecast of the future found in the New Testament. That forecast is based on the confidence that "whether we live or die we are the Lord's." Had we nothing more than this we might well rest content. (3) CHRISTIANITY, CHRIST, JESUS The order in which the above words occur is indicative of the method of Schleiermacher's approach to the theological treatment of history. The merit of having been the first of modern theologians to frame a definition of Christianity in which the name of its Founder appears central is subject to qualification. The governing principle of his theological construction does not readily make room for the activity of a historical personage as a factor in religion. His whole system is rooted in a conception of religion rather than in an apprehension of personality. In keeping with this viewpoint he proceeds from a conception of the nature of Christianity to such a representation of the person of Christ as shall be in harmony with it. Consequently one of his chief problems is how to relate Christ to Christianity. The difficulty of the problem increases in ratio with the growth of the historical spirit and our progress in the knowledge of the actual events of Jesus life. The modern aptitude for historical study had been so far aroused in his time that he felt the seriousness of the problem and tried to point the direction of its solution. In an examination of his speculations on the subject we are to keep in mind that, consistently with his mystical habit of mind and his relative depreciation of personality, Christ (i.e., Jesus) could scarcely be to him a basis of theology but rather a problem for theology. If some of his statements may be taken to represent an opposite view they are in consistent with his more fundamental doctrine or they must be interpreted in the light of the latter. It is significant that he says it is open to the theologian to choose without disparagement either one of two courses: either to proceed from a doctrine of the person of Christ to a doctrine of his work or from a doctrine of his work to a doctrine of his person. Schleiermacher's representation of the manner in which Christ relates himself to the Christian is two fold. At one time he says that everything in Christianity is to be referred to the historical fact of Christ's advent into the sphere of our activity and the original impression his person made. That impression, he says, is retained in the Christian communion and perpetuated in the world through being communicated by this communion to those persons who come within it. His other statement on the subject is to the effect that Jesus possessed a unique God-consciousness and that his God-consciousness, being communicated to believers, becomes redemption to them. The former view is connected with the idea that faith is a personal act directed toward a personal object. The latter view is more consistent with the idea that Christ is simply the first in an unbroken succession. In the one case Jesus seems to hold the God-relation to believers; in the other case he seems to stand in an archetypal relation to them. In the one case Christianity is an attitude toward Christ; in the other Christ is Christianity. Again, it is noteworthy that our theologian continually uses the name Christ instead of the name Jesus. This is not accidental. It indicates the point of view from which he construes the extant materials relating to the historical career of Jesus. It is well known also that he makes the Gospel of John rather than the Synoptics the main scriptural source of his doctrine of the person of Christ. This preference for John's Gospel is similarly significant of his method of determining what elements of the gospels are of value for the dogmatician. The narratives are evaluated on the basis of a standard derived from another source. Only those portions are esteemed to have interest for the dogmatician which serve to set forth the character of Jesus as Redeemer. He goes even farther and decides on the same basis what sort of affirmations may be made concerning his mental and physical life: for example, that his physical, mental, and moral growth must have been normal. He makes the perpetuation of Christ's own self-presentation in the consciousness of the historical Christian communion the ground for the affirmation of a historical personal life corresponds to it, for otherwise, he says, this consciousness could never have arisen. In keeping with this method of construing history he dismisses the accounts of the resurrection on the ground that faith in Christ is independent of them. Hereby he exposes himself to the charge which Schweitzer (Von Reimarus zu Wrede, (1-66) against him: "Schleiermacher did not seek the Jesus of history but the Jesus Christ of his Glaubenslehre, that is, the historic personality who is fitted to the self-consciousness of the Redeemer which he presents. The empirical reality simply does not exist for him. . . . . Historical questions relating to the life of Jesus are for him only momenta in his dialectic." The point is well taken, though overstated. It finds illustration in his classification of the heresies relating to the person of Christ. They are described, not according to their use of material alien to the character of Jesus as it is depicted in the narratives of the evangelists or according to their neglect of essential facts in his career, but according to the manner in which they annul the redemption as Schleiermacher conceives it. That is to say, his conception of Christianity determines his doctrine of the person of the Christ and this again becomes the criterion of the worth and, to some extent, of the trustworthiness of the New Testament accounts of Jesus. But in this respect Schleiermacher was not a "sinner above all the other Galileans." Both Catholic and Protestant theologians have been led to substitute a metaphysical concept, a hypothetical personage, for a historical personality. Not until the Life-of-Jesus movement began in modern times was the loss realized. Hegelianism with its Christ was just another case of the substitution of an abstract idea for a concrete person. Transcendental philosophy gave us an intellectual concept christened with the Redeemer's name, but left us to discover that in place of Jesus we had only an abstraction, stone instead of bread. The criticism that Schleiermacher failed to avoid the a priori method of construing the personality of Jesus is to be modified, however, by reference to the emphasis he placed on the religious experience as a source of knowledge. He said that the Christian consciousness is a continuation of the God-consciousness of Jesus. This should lead to an examination of the self-consciousness of Jesus, but Schleiermacher failed here to follow his own clue and fell back on the dogmatical reconstruction of the person of Christ. The error is a serious one from the point of view of history as well as religion. Our conception of Christ and of the salvation he brought must ever submit to the test of historical research if either he or his salvation is to be a factor in the lives of men. To express the same idea, in axiomatic form, the Christ of theology must agree with the Jesus of the gospels. Nay more, that conception of salvation which is truly Christian, if Jesus of Nazareth is the founder of Christianity, must always represent such a salvation as could arise out of the deeds and words, the personal character, of Jesus. The inner certainty of a moral renewal coming to us in connection with our objective examination of the historic facts is an indispensable factor in our estimate of him, but it stands in the second rank. Otherwise we should never be. certain that the being we call our Christ is the same with Jesus of Nazareth, and we might have to seek the historical origin of our religion in another direction. (4) PROTESTANTISM AND CATHOLICISM Schleiermacher's distinction between Protestantism and Catholicism has become famous: "Protestantism makes the relation of the individual to the church dependent on his relation to Christ; Catholicism makes the relation of the individual to Christ dependent on his relation to the church." It has been severely criticized by Ritschl. He says: This formula, however, is inconsistent with the very principle with which Schleiermacher enters upon the doctrine of redemption, namely, that the consciousness of redemption through Christ is referred to the mediation of his religious fellowship. It was only because Schleiermacher was unable to develop this idea that he lapsed into the opposite formula in his Glaubenslehre. This formula, however, is false. For even the evangelical church's right relation to Christ is both historically and logically conditioned by the fellowship of believers; historically, because a man always finds the community already existing when he arrives at faith, nor does he attain this end without the action of the community upon him; logically, because no action of Christ upon men can be conceived except in accordance with the standard of Christ's antecedent purpose to found a community. This position, however, is distinguished from the Catholic view by the fact that it pays no attention to a legal organization of the community of believers. . . . . Schleiermacher's formula, moreover, is merely the reflection of the pietistic disintegration of the idea of the church. [15] On the question of Schleiermacher's consistency Ritschl is undoubtedly in the right. The basis of Schleiermacher's theology is non-churchly. So also is every system of thought which regards the religious experience as the expression of immediate relationship with God, or, transferring it to the Christian realm, with Christ. Now if there is any single force whose creative influence in the Reformation is more marked than others it is the spirit of individualism. It is true that this principle was imperfectly grasped and only partially recognized by the Protestant thinkers who erected the Protestant church systems and the Protestant creeds. The full admission of its claims would have clothed the specter of Separatism (a sort of nightmare to Ritschl himself) with flesh and blood and apparently have allowed free play to the combination of revolutionary forces known as "Anabaptism." The spirit of religious freedom consequently was confined within very narrow limits, and whenever it be came too self-assertive it was crushed. But individualism revived in the eighteenth century, and now at length it has won on all sides a recognition of its surpassing moral vigor, evangelistic zeal, and social firmness. The future seems to be its own. Though Schleiermacher belonged to this modern movement his theological position was compromised by the necessity he felt of avoiding a breach in church relations. The attempt he made to mediate between individualism and churchism is in some respects admirable. But it forced him to use the word church in a double sense, the religious sense and the corporate sense. The most signal instance of this is seen in his treatment of the doctrine of baptism, where he views the baptismal act as the exercise of the church's will to receive the baptized into that communion from which all the operations which affect the new birth issue, so that the act is to be considered as in some sense the communication of the Holy Spirit. Baptism becomes the final act in the series in which the church expresses its will to extend itself, which it does by receiving new members. That is to say, the act of baptism becomes efficacious, not because of the will of the recipient, but by virtue of the will of the church which to all intents and purposes is to be regarded as identical with the will of Christ. Plainly the term church can refer here only to the corporate organization whose officials administer the "sacrament." This position is substantially the same as the Roman Catholic. When Ritschl tries to clear away the non-churchly features of Schleiermacher's theology at this point he only succeeds in making it more Roman Catholic in tone. [16] So far then as concerns the issue between these two theologians we must takes sides with Schleiermacher. The two mutually contradictory attitudes represent the two inconsistent momenta in Luther's movement, the churchly and the evangelical. Schleiermacher's statement is nevertheless open to serious objection. In the first place, his method of arriving at the distinction is defective, namely, by ascertaining the principal grounds urged by each for rejecting the other's view. The basis of attack in controversies is sure to reflect the prevailing ideas of the time, but after all it may indicate a mere side-position, because the parties to the strife may have failed to apprehend the full significance of what is attacked or defended. A better method of reaching the bottom principles of the two movements would be to trace historically the process of their differentiation from a common beginning. In the next place, the form of Schleiermacher's statement is open to objection because in saying that, for the Protestant, the relation of the man to the church is dependent on his relation to Christ the church is apparently treated as the end to which Christ is the means. It is difficult here again to tell what he means by the church, whether the spiritual fellowship of the saved or the ecclesiastical organization. .If it be the latter, then the statement is not true to the practice of those Protestant churches that admit to member ship many who are: confessedly without conscious relation to Christ. If by church he means the spiritual fellowship of the saved, his statement is substantially true, but it is still exposed to the criticism that it makes this fellowship of a higher character than the relation to Christ which is a means to it. These two relations ought to be regarded as one in principle. The trouble with this whole attempt is that it introduces into dogmatics an artificial factor. The starting-point of theological activity is not the consciousness of an ecclesiastical body but the consciousness of the individual. The fact is that the great doctrinal systems have sprung from this source and have afterward been adopted by some church as an approximate expression of common convictions. Otherwise theological freedom would be crushed at the beginning. The. unsuccessful efforts of Schleiermacher to make out an inner connection between his views and the creeds show how he was hampered by this artificial rule. He, as well as Ritschl, was afraid of Separatism. His opposition to the idea that each man holds a personal relation to Christ was reinforced by his philosophy: the universe is a unity; the creative will of God had reference to the world, not to individuals; the redemption has to be interpreted as the purification of human nature universally, not as individual purification. According to this we may well ask, How can there be any recognition of the individual whatever? Can he be anything more than a temporary eddy in the ceaseless stream of personal life? The whole work of redemption becomes the transmutation of the universal sin-life into a new life-whole. It seems then that it is not the man who is lost or saved but human nature, and ultimately salvation becomes a world-process. Naturally enough, when Schleiermacher tries to justify the Protestant practice of infant baptism he falls back into the realism of the Catholics: the children are within the church and stand in an ordered relation to the operation of divine grace; the church extends salvation to the individual by propagating its religious consciousness in him, by extending its fellowship to him. The radical defect in Schleiermacher's theology is found in his essentially erroneous views of human personality. We are not precluded hereby from a recognition of the value of his contention that the religious life is a community life. It is true that there is a necessary connection between faith and the communion of the faith. A church, as an association of believers, is the organism in which faith seeks its full expression, The isolated believer cannot rise to the full assurance of the objective truth of his faith, or propagate it, or realize its ethical character, without the community, But while the believer and the community of faith are mutually involved, the primacy belongs to the former. Faith is an attitude Godward of the personal, individual consciousness. It is an act in which the man, in response to the self-revelation of God, devoted himself to the end of his being. The opposite view would render true human progress impossible. It would make each man, so far forth as he is religious, merely a product of the community life. Personal initiative, the prime factor in all great revivals of religion, would fall away. For in all ages the impulse to religious progress lies in a new consciousness of personal Nation with God. Thus the man is truly greater than the church. Roman Catholicism must yield to the spirit of the true Protestantism. CONCLUSION By the application of his powerful dialectic to the varied spiritual material at his command Schleiermacher succeeded in producing a system which for religious warmth and inspiration has never been surpassed in the history of theology. But this system is superior to the fundamental conception of religion that he placed at its base. For the feeling of absolute dependence comes short of a constructive principle of theology and has no meaning apart from the theory of the world and of man from which it originates. Some of his followers have endeavored to discard the aid of philosophy and metaphysics in the unfolding of a doctrinal system, with no greater success than he. Notwithstanding, it remains the imperishable honor of Schleiermacher that he grasped the whole problem of theology in a new way and compelled theologians of all schools to follow him. He vindicated for the religious life the claim to utter supremacy in any theory of the relations of God, man, and the world, lie has gradually forced modern theology to attempt the radical reconsideration of every traditional doctrine. The truth is that he has revived and enforced the standpoint of many of the Anabaptists of the Reformation period and prepared the way for the rejection of the mediaeval scholasticism and the ancient Catholicism which the Reformers dared not abandon. Moreover, his whole treatment of the problems of theology is so rich in suggestion that every theologian of the present day is his debtor and many of his most stimulating ideas are still awaiting development. __________________________________________________________________ [15] Justification and Reconciliation, 549 (2d ed., English transl.). [16] Ritschl's views on the subject are strongly brought out in his Unterricht in der christlichen Religion, par. 89. __________________________________________________________________ WORKS OF REFERENCE Among the works which may be consulted in a study of Schleiermacher and his place in Protestant theology are the following: I. HIS OWN PUBLISHED WRITINGS Der christliche Glaube. 4 vols. Gotha, 1889. Kurze Darstellung des theologischen Studiums. Halle: Otto Hendel. (A translation, Brief Outline of the Study of Theology, including Lücke's Reminiscences, by W. Farrer, was published in Edinburgh, 1850.) Monologen. Halle: Otto Hendel. Platons Werke, 1804, 1817, 1828. Gundlinien einer Kritik der bisherigen Sittenlehre, Berlin, 1803. Discourses on Religion. Transl. by John Oman. London, 1893. Selected Sermons of Schleiermacher. Ed. W. Robert son Nicoll. Sämmtliche Werke. Berlin, 1840. II. STUDIES OF SCHLEIERMACHER Schleiermachers Briefwechsel mit Gass. Berlin, 1852. The Life and Letters of Schleiermacher. Translated by Miss Rowan. Erinnerungen von Schleiermacher. Lücke. Schleiermachers und C. S. von Brinkmans Gang durch die Brudergemeine. Leipzig, 1905. Schleiermachers Theologie mit ihren philosophischen Grundlagen. By W. Bender. Nordlingen, 1878. Schleiermachers Reden über Religion. By A. Ritschl. Bonn, 1874. Die Entwicklung des Religionsbegriffs bei Schleiermacher. By E. Huber. Leipzig, 1901. Schleiermachers "Glaubenslehre" in ihrer Bedeutung für Vergangenheit und Zukunft. By C. Clemen. Giessen, 1905. Die Grundlagen der Christologie Schleiermachers. By H. Bleek. Freiburg, 1898. Von Schleiermacher zu Ritschl. D. F. Kattenbusch. Giessen. Schleiermachers Vermächtnis an unsere Zeit. Kalthoff. Leipzig. Christentum und Wissenschaft in Schleiermachers Glaubenslehre. By H. Scholz. Berlin, 1909. La philosophie religieuse de Schleiermacher. By Edmond Cramaussel. Paris, 1909. Numerous small pamphlets. III. FOR THE HISTORY OF THOUGHT DURING THE PERIOD UNDER SURVEY History of the Christian Philosophy of Religion. By Pünjer; transl. by Hastie. Edinburgh, 1887. History of Protestant Theology in Germany. By I. A. Dorner; transl. by Robson and Taylor. Edinburgh, 1871. History of German Theology in the Nineteenth Century. By Lichtenberger; transl. by Hastie. Edinburgh, 1889. The Development of Theology. By O. Pfieiderer; transl. by Smith. New York, 1893. Das Bild des Christentums bei den grossen deutschen Idealisten. By Lülman. Berlin, 1901. Critical History of Free Thought in Relation to Religion. By A. S. Farrar, New York, 1863. Leland's View of the Deistical Writers, London, 1837. Religious Thought in England. By J. Hunt, London, 1870 ff. Religious Thought in the Nineteenth Century. By J. Hunt. 1896. History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century. By Sir L. Stephen. New York, 1902. Rational Theology and Christian Thought in England in the Seventeenth Century. By J. Tulloch. Edinburgh, 1872. Manual of Religious Thought in Britain in the Nineteenth Century. By J. Tulloch. New York, 1885. The Problem of Faith and Freedom. By John Oman. London, 1906. Von Reimarus zu Wrede. By A. Schweitzer. Tübingen, 1906. Dogmengeschichte des Protestantismus. By O. Ritschl. Vol. I. Leipzig, 1908. __________________________________________________________________ INDEX INDEX Agnosticism, 94 Albertini, 11, 17, 39. Anabaptists, 70, 72, 73 ff., 98, 102, 119, 328, 334. Analogy (Butler's), 85 ff. Angels, 161 ff. Antinomianism, 76. Apologetics, 134 ff., 304 f. Apostles' Creed (mentioned), 70. Aristotle, 25. Arminianism, 76, 89. Arianism, 290. Arndt, John, 59, 99. Asceticism, 195. Athanasian Creed, 290. Atonement, 19, 20, 70, 71, 78, 89. Aufklärung. See Illuminism. Augustine, 25, 113. Authority (in religion), 26, 74 f., 95 f., 225, 253 f., 308 f. Bacon, 79. Baptism, 72 f., 73, 230, 253, 258 f., 264, 329; infant, 73, 230 f., 260 f., 333. Baptists, 73, 89, 99. Barby, 10, 15, 16, 23. Bengel, 100. Berkeley, Bishop, 83, 87. Bible, 71, 86, 150, 157, 196, 252 ff., 257 ff., 307. Boehler, 102. Bunyan, 99. Butler, 83 ff. Calvin, 25, 68, 113, 231, 312. Calvinism, 4, 76, 86. Canon of Scripture, 255 ff. Categorical Imperative, 95. Catholicism, 70 f., 146 f., 327 f., 333. Chalcedonian Formula (mentioned), 70. Chiliasm, 227. Christ: humiliation of, 226; incarnation of, 84, 137 f., 233, 248; person of, 11, 26, 70, 132 f , 136 ff., 145, 152 ff., 174, 176, 180, 186, 199, 228, 322 ff.; resurrection and ascension, 212, 226; sufferings of, 224; supernatural origin of, 198 f., 206 ff., 216; work of, 134 f., 200 ff., 213 ff., 220, 224. Christianity, definition of, 132, 133 ff., 305, 322 f. Church: definition of, 117, 237 ff., 329 ff.; Calvinist or Reformed, 4, 26, 42, 57 f., 76, 148; invisible and visible, 132, 133 ff., 305, 322 f.; Lutheran, 57 f., 76, 148; Roman, see Catholicism; origin of, 239 ff.; perfecting of, 273 ff., 283; permanent features of, 251 ff. Churches: 270 f.; free, 101, 299. Church and state, 57 ff., 76, 225 f. Church and world, 249 ff., 269 ff. Communion: religious, 125, 133, 173 f.; Christian, 134, 139 f., 153, 195, 197, 201 f., 215, 224, 228 f. See also Church. Conversion, 229 ff. Cosmology, 157, 163. Covenant theology, 184. Creation, 156 f., 199, 210, 214 f., 218, 233. Creeds and confessions, 69 f., 75, 149 ff., 156, 206 f., 289. Critique of Pure Reason, 93 f., 105. Critique of the Practical Reason, 94 f. Cromwell, Oliver, 99. Decrees of God, 233. Deism, 81 ff., 93, 105. Democracy, 46, 57. Dependence, absolute, 121, 124, 163. Descartes, 25, 90. Devil, 161 ff., 183. Diderot, 83. Discourses on Religion, Pref. viii., 32, 37 f., 38, 39, 106 ff., 305 f. Dissenters, 76, 99. Docetism, 146, 209. Dogma, Christian, 149 ff., 151. Dogmatics: materials of, 149 ff.; meaning of, 116 ff., 143, 306; origin of, 141 ff.; method of, 144 ff., 151 f., 157, 164, 176. Dort, Synod of (mentioned), 76, 89. Ebionitism, 146. Election, doctrine of, 240 ff., 244. Encyclopaedists, 13. Ernesti, 8, 92. Ethics, 119 ff. Evangelical revival of the eighteenth century, 97 ff. Evil: kinds of, 87, 161, natural, 187; source of, 161, 227; relation to sin, 87, 191. Evolution, 123 f. Faith, 195, 196, 225. 229, 238, 301. Fetichism, 127, 329. Forgiveness, 232 f. Foreknowledge, divine, 343 f. Foreordination. See election. Formula of Concord, 76. Freedom, 121, 153 f., 190. Future punishment, 12, 19, 277, 282 f. Future state, 49 f., 241 f., 244, 275 ff., 281 ff., 321 f.; intermediate, 279. Gnadenfrei, 8, 32. God: meaning of, 122 f., 206 ff., 313, 318 f.; attributes, 90, 163 ff., 166 ff., 191 ff., 201, 283 ff.; proofs of existence, 90, 155, 315 ff. God-consciousness, 122, 130, 135, 153, 174, 176, 186, 201 f. Grace, 176; 189 f., 194 ff., 200 ff., 229 f., 284. Grotius, Hugo, 89. Guilt, 182 f., 227, 232; of the race, 187 f. See also Sin. Halle, 4, 11, 19. 24 f., 29, 47, 100. Harms, Pastor, 106, 110. Hegelianism, 298, 326. Herbert of Cherbury, Lord, 81. Herder, 16, 35, 93. Heresy, 145 ff., 325. Holiness, 192. Holy Spirit, 138, 245 ff., 255 f., 257, 267, 273. Human depravity, 13, 178 ff., 183. See also Sin. Hume, David, 13, 87 ff., 95 ff., 303, 304. Illuminism, 13, 91, 106. Immortality, 95. See also Future State. Incarnation. See Person of Christ. Infallibility, 272 f. Judaism, 82, 129, 131 f., 136, 188. Judgment, final, 280 f. Justification, 71, 229, 232 ff. Kant, 16, 25, 28, 37, 93 ff., 312. Keys, office of, 253, 265 f. Kingdom of God, 195, 219 f., 224 f., 235 f., 239 f., 267, 268, 284, 286, 288. Knox, John, 68. Kurze Darstellung, etc., 51, 110, 299. Lambeth Articles (mentioned), 76. Lavater, 16. Leibnitz, 9:, 113, 313. Lessing, 16, 25, 92, 113, 303. Locke, 25, 79, 80 f. Logos, doctrine of, 290. Luther, 25, 68, 98, 113. Lutheranism, 15, 76. See also Church. Manichaeism, 145, 178, 183, 189, 190. Melanchthon, 25, 68, 307. Methodism, 101 ff. Ministry, Christian, 253, 256 ff. Miracles, 82, 84, 94, 160, 220. Mohammedanism, 129, 131 f., 136. Monologues, 109 f. Monotheism, 128 ff., 136 f. Moravian Brethren, 9, 10, 12, 13, 15, 19,43. Moravianism, 15, 23, 101 ff., 312. Mysticism, 14, 96. Neander, 305 f . New Birth. See Regeneration. Nicene Symbol (mentioned), 70. Niesky, 9, 14, 15 f. Nonconformists, 76. Obduracy, 190. Origen, 25, 292. Pantheism, 108, 129 f. Pelagianism, 145, 178, 189, 190. Perfection: of Christ, 196 ff.; of man, 172 ff., 177, 179, 187, 205; of the world, 170 ff., 187. Philosophy of religion, I26 ff., 302 ff. Pietism, 15, 99 ff. Piety. See Religion. Plato, 8, 25, 32, 42, 113. Polytheism, 128. Prayer, 160, 253, 266 ff. Preservation, 156 ff., 109. Priesthood, 125. Primitive man, 174, 183, 205. Protestantism, 53, 67 ff., 75, 77 ff., 146 ff., 306, 327 f., 333. Providence, 26, 285. Punishment, 227, 232. See also Future Punishment. Puritanism, 99. Quakers, 73, 99. Race-consciousness, 173, 180 f., 182 f., 201, 226, 246. Rationalism, 4, 37, 38 ff., 73, 89, 93 f., 97, 146, 304. Reason, 253 f. Reconciliation, 216 ff. Redeemer. See Christ. Redemption, 134 f., 176, 190; consciousness of, 151; how wrought, 196 ff., 213 f. Reden. See Discourses. Regeneration, 160, 227 ff., 234, 259, 269 f. Religion: definition of, 106 ff., 119 ff., 154 f., 172 f.; nature of, 320 ff.; kinds and stages of, 126 ff.; natural, 40, 82, 83 ff., 132 f.; positive, 132; revealed, 79, 83 ff., 132 f.; supernatural, 79, 81; true and false, 127. Renaissance, 73. Repentance, 229, 232. Resurrection, the, 277, 279 f. Revelation, 81 f., 86, 92, 96 f., 133 f., 201, 205, 314 ff., 319 ff. Revival, evangelical, 97 f. Righteousness, 193. Ritschl, Albrecht, 298, 327 f. Roman Catholicism, 95, 307, 327. See also Catholicism. Romanticism, 38, 105, 312. Sabellianism, 209. Sack, 27, 33, 108. Sanctification, 227 f., 233 ff., 280. Skepticism, 13, 14, 16. Schlegel, F. R., 36, 32 f. Schwenkfeldt, Caspar, 73. Scholasticism, 209. Scriptures. See Bible. Second Coming of Christ, 277 f. Separatism, 43, 101, 195, 328, 331. Sin: consciousness of, 175, 178 f., 184. 186, 187, 190, 235, 284; doctrine of, 177 ff.; hereditary, 181 f., 187, 210; actual, 184 f.; God's relation to, 188 ff., 198 f.; punishments of, 100, 193 f., 201, 2l6, 222. Socinianism, 76, 78. Spangenberg, 102. Spener, 99 f. Spinoza, 25, 90, 113, 312. Spirit of Christ. See Holy Spirit. Spirit of God. See Holy Spirit. State churches, 99. See also Church and State. Supernatural and natural, 231 f., 240, 248. Supper, Lord's, 14 f., 65, 253, 261 ff. Testament: Old, 137, 150, 2<4, 256; New, 151, 161, 251 f., 254 i. Theology, natural, 79, 88, 96, 139, 165. See also Rationalism; Revelation. Traducianism, 207, 209. Trinity, 70, 84, 207, 209, 289 ff. Voltaire, 13, 83. Wesley, John, 98-102. Wesley, Charles, 102. Whitefield, 98. Will, the, 179 ff. Wolff, 25, 91. Zinsendorf, 11, 20. Zwingli, 68, __________________________________________________________________ Indexes __________________________________________________________________ Index of Scripture References Jeremiah [1]17:5-8 [2]18:7-10 Matthew [3]24:30-34 [4]25:46 [5]28:19 [6]28:20 Mark [7]9:44 [8]16:16 John [9]1:51 [10]4:34 [11]5:17 [12]5:20 [13]5:21 [14]5:24 [15]5:25 [16]5:29 [17]6:57 [18]8:29 [19]10:30 [20]10:36 [21]16:7 [22]17:23 [23]20:22 [24]20:23 Acts [25]1:4 [26]1:5 [27]2:4 [28]2:38 [29]10:47 [30]17:27-30 [31]19:2 Romans [32]1:21 [33]5:12-21 [34]6:2 [35]6:6 [36]6:11 [37]8:9 [38]8:10 1 Corinthians [39]12:4 [40]15:21-22 [41]15:25-26 2 Corinthians [42]11:3 [43]13:6 Galatians [44]2:20 Ephesians [45]4:22 [46]4:24 Philippians [47]2:6-9 Colossians [48]3:10 1 Peter [49]2:24 __________________________________________________________________ Index of Latin Words and Phrases * Unitas Fratrum: [50]1 * credenda: [51]1 * locus: [52]1 [53]2 [54]3 [55]4 * membra : [56]1 * momenta: [57]1 [58]2 [59]3 * pari : [60]1 * persona grata: [61]1 * prius: [62]1 * pro licentia: [63]1 * quantum: [64]1 * reatus, corruptio naturae, vitium originis, morbus originis: [65]1 * reservatio mentalis: [66]1 * via eminentiae, negationis et causalitatis: [67]1 __________________________________________________________________ Index of German Words and Phrases * Angelegenheiten: [68]1 * Aufklärung: [69]1 [70]2 [71]3 [72]4 * Frömmigkeit: [73]1 * Glaubenslehre: [74]1 [75]2 [76]3 [77]4 [78]5 [79]6 [80]7 [81]8 [82]9 [83]10 [84]11 [85]12 * Landwehr: [86]1 * Reden: [87]1 [88]2 * Wesen: [89]1 __________________________________________________________________ Index of Pages of the Print Edition [90]i [91]ii [92]iii [93]iv [94]v [95]vi [96]vii [97]viii [98]ix [99]x [100]xi [101]xii [102]1 [103]2 [104]3 [105]4 [106]5 [107]6 [108]7 [109]8 [110]9 [111]10 [112]11 [113]12 [114]13 [115]14 [116]16 [117]17 [118]18 [119]19 [120]20 [121]21 [122]22 [123]23 [124]24 [125]25 [126]26 [127]27 [128]28 [129]29 [130]30 [131]31 [132]32 [133]33 [134]34 [135]35 [136]36 [137]37 [138]38 [139]39 [140]40 [141]41 [142]42 [143]43 [144]44 [145]45 [146]46 [147]47 [148]48 [149]49 [150]50 [151]51 [152]52 [153]53 [154]54 [155]55 [156]56 [157]57 [158]58 [159]59 [160]60 [161]61 [162]62 [163]63 [164]64 [165]65 [166]66 [167]67 [168]68 [169]69 [170]70 [171]71 [172]72 [173]73 [174]74 [175]75 [176]76 [177]77 [178]78 [179]79 [180]80 [181]81 [182]82 [183]83 [184]84 [185]85 [186]86 [187]87 [188]88 [189]89 [190]90 [191]91 [192]92 [193]93 [194]94 [195]95 [196]96 [197]97 [198]98 [199]99 [200]100 [201]101 [202]102 [203]103 [204]104 [205]105 [206]106 [207]107 [208]108 [209]109 [210]110 [211]111 [212]112 [213]113 [214]114 [215]115 [216]116 [217]117 [218]118 [219]119 [220]120 [221]121 [222]122 [223]123 [224]124 [225]125 [226]126 [227]127 [228]128 [229]129 [230]130 [231]131 [232]132 [233]133 [234]134 [235]135 [236]136 [237]137 [238]138 [239]139 [240]140 [241]141 [242]142 [243]143 [244]144 [245]145 [246]146 [247]147 [248]148 [249]149 [250]150 [251]151 [252]152 [253]153 [254]154 [255]155 [256]156 [257]157 [258]158 [259]159 [260]160 [261]161 [262]162 [263]163 [264]164 [265]165 [266]166 [267]167 [268]168 [269]169 [270]170 [271]171 [272]172 [273]173 [274]174 [275]175 [276]176 [277]177 [278]178 [279]179 [280]180 [281]181 [282]182 [283]183 [284]184 [285]185 [286]l86 [287]187 [288]188 [289]189 [290]190 [291]191 [292]192 [293]193 [294]194 [295]195 [296]196 [297]197 [298]198 [299]199 [300]200 [301]201 [302]202 [303]203 [304]204 [305]205 [306]206 [307]207 [308]208 [309]209 [310]210 [311]211 [312]212 [313]213 [314]214 [315]215 [316]2i6 [317]217 [318]218 [319]219 [320]220 [321]221 [322]222 [323]223 [324]224 [325]225 [326]226 [327]227 [328]228 [329]229 [330]230 [331]231 [332]232 [333]233 [334]234 [335]235 [336]236 [337]237 [338]238 [339]239 [340]240 [341]241 [342]242 [343]243 [344]244 [345]245 [346]246 [347]247 [348]248 [349]249 [350]250 [351]251 [352]252 [353]253 [354]254 [355]255 [356]256 [357]257 [358]258 [359]259 [360]260 [361]261 [362]262 [363]263 [364]264 [365]265 [366]266 [367]267 [368]268 [369]269 [370]270 [371]271 [372]272 [373]273 [374]274 [375]275 [376]276 [377]277 [378]278 [379]279 [380]280 [381]281 [382]282 [383]283 [384]284 [385]285 [386]286 [387]287 [388]288 [389]289 [390]290 [391]291 [392]292 [393]293 [394]294 [395]295 [396]296 [397]297 [398]298 [399]299 [400]300 [401]301 [402]302 [403]303 [404]304 [405]305 [406]306 [407]307 [408]308 [409]309 [410]310 [411]311 [412]312 [413]313 [414]314 [415]315 [416]316 [417]317 [418]318 [419]319 [420]320 [421]321 [422]322 [423]323 [424]324 [425]325 [426]326 [427]327 [428]328 [429]329 [430]330 [431]331 [432]332 [433]333 [434]334 [435]335 [436]336 [437]337 [438]338 [439]339 [440]340 [441]341 [442]342 [443]343 [444]344 __________________________________________________________________ This document is from the Christian Classics Ethereal Library at Calvin College, http://www.ccel.org, generated on demand from ThML source. 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