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           Title: Christian Ethics. Volume I.--History of Ethics.
      Creator(s): Wuttke, Adolf (1819-1870)
     Print Basis: New York: Nelson & Phillips, 1873
   CCEL Subjects: All;
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                               CHRISTIAN ETHICS.

BY DR. ADOLF WUTTKE,
LATE PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY AT HALLE.

  WITH A SPECIAL PREFACE,

  BY DR. RIEHM,

    EDITOR OF THE "STUDIEN UND KRITIKEN."

   TRANSLATED BY
   JOHN P. LACROIX.

VOLUME I.--HISTORY OF ETHICS.

   NEW YORK:
   NELSON & PHILLIPS.
   Cincinnati: Hitchcock & Walden.
   1873.

   Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
   NELSON & PHILLIPS.
   In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
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LETTER OF AUTHORIZATION.

  DECLARATION.

   WE, the representatives of the family of the late Dr. Adolf Wuttke,
   Professor of Theology at Halle on the Saale, have thankfully accepted
   the proposition of Professor JOHN P. LACROIX to translate into English
   the deceased author's Christliche Sittenlehre (Wiegandt & Grieben,
   Berlin, 1864-5), and we gladly second the wish of the esteemed
   translator by expressly and formally authorizing him, on our part, to
   publish the work in the English language.

   MRS. PROFESSOR WUITTKE,
   DR. EDUARD RIEHM,

   (as Guardian of the children).

   HALLE, March 8, 1872.
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NOTE OF TRANSLATOR.

   IN my labor upon this translation I have aimed at the truest practical
   reproduction, sentence by sentence, of the thoughts of the author. This
   method I deliberately preferred, rather than incur the risk of
   impairing the clearness of thought by entirely recasting the forms of
   speech. In a few cases I have employed unusual compounds, rather than
   resort to paraphrases or to an undue multiplication of subordinate
   clauses. On the whole, I am persuaded that those who are best
   acquainted with the difficulties of the original will be most indulgent
   toward the style of the version. This first volume, although only the
   Introduction to the entire work, is yet a complete whole in itself,
   viz., a survey of the whole current of the ethical thought of humanity
   from the earliest dawn of scientific reflection down to the latest
   results in Christian theology.

   The motives that led me to undertake the translation have beep various.
   Esteemed teachers exhorted me thereto, as soon as notices of the work
   began to appear. German scholars spoke to me enthusiastically of its
   unparalleled excellence. My chief motive, however, has been a compound
   of gratitude and hope,--gratitude to the devout thinker whose work had
   been, to me, the medium of so much spiritual good,--and a hope of
   helping others to the same good. For, in fact, no other human
   production has lifted, for me, so many vails from shadowy places in
   Revelation and Providence; none has worked so effectually in
   definitively directing. my mind and heart toward that Light which
   stands, serene and ever-brightening, over against the comfortless
   spectacle of the successive and rapid extinguishment of every effort at
   social reform which does not kindle its torch at the central Source of
   all light. And no labor that I have ever performed has been attended
   with such a joyous consciousness that the very toil itself was
   self-rewarding.

   As to the specific merits of the work, I am happy to refer the reader
   to the considerate words of the distinguished theologian of Halle, Dr.
   Riehm, in the special preface which he has prepared for this
   translation. I could also, were it desirable, fill many pages with
   words of highest praise from the most respectable and the most diverse
   sources. And the praise is bestowed not only upon its scientific worth,
   but largely also upon the spirit of its author. All critics accord in
   testifying that we have to do here with a man singularly endowed with
   keenness of philosophic insight and with devoutness of Christian faith.

   Whether, however, there is need here in America--where there is so
   strong a proclivity to run away after every glittering theological or
   social novelty, and where there are so many evidences that the general
   consciousness both of preachers and of people is not thoroughly enough
   grounded upon the central truths of the Gospel--of a work such as this
   (a work which, in so masterly a manner, brings the whole moral life
   into vital relation to its only possible Source, and which sweeps away
   so thoroughly every social or religious theory which does not stand the
   touch-stone of plain Bible-truth), it is for others to judge. We have
   been led to augur favorably, however, both from our own studies in the
   field and also from the expressed views of many of our most progressive
   teachers of ethics, viz., that there is a loud call for something more
   solidly philosophical and more thoroughly evangelical than is afforded
   by our common text-books on Moral Science; [1] and we feel pretty
   confident that few who once drink of the fresh thought-stream here
   opened will be disposed to dissent from the well-known utterance [2] of
   Dr. Hengstenberg, that Wuttke's Ethics ought to have its place in every
   pastor's library.

   J. P. L.
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   [1] See Dr. Warren's Introduction to Vol. II.

   [2] See Evangelische Kirchenzeitung, (Berlin), Sept. 4, 1861.
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SPECIAL PREFACE TO THIS TRANSLATION. [3]

   THE author of the work which here appears in English, Dr. Carl
   Friedrich Adolf Wuttke, has won for himself a distinguished place in
   the evangelical Church and theology of Germany. A few items as to his
   life and activity, and as to the spirit and character of his endeavors,
   may serve to call attention to a work which is widely circulated and
   much read throughout Germany.

   Born in Breslau, November 10, 1819, in humble life, the young Wuttke
   obtained his preparatory education under circumstances of great
   difficulty and self-denial. In 1840 he entered the University of
   1reslau in view of studying theology, but he found very little
   satisfaction in the theology that was there taught. The superficial
   Rationalism which then prevailed in Breslau violently repelled him, and
   drove him at once and forever to a position of antagonism to this
   stand-point. As neither his religious nor his scientific wants found
   satisfaction in his theological teachers, he endeavored to satisfy the
   latter, at least, by turning his attention primarily and chiefly to
   philosophy. To this end he possessed dialectic talents of unusual
   excellence, and he received from the celebrated and, then, fully mature
   Braniss fruitful inspiration. His academic career he began in 1848, in
   Breslau, as Doctor and privat-docent of philosophy. His preferred field
   was the Philosophy of Religion. This led him to thorough studies in the
   history of reliions. A fruit of his studies he has embodied in his
   "History of Heathenism in respect to religion, knowledge, art, Morals
   and Politics, (Breslau, 1852-53),--a work which established his
   reputation as a scholar. Utilizing his extensive acquaintance with the
   historical material, his chief endeavor was to give here a faithful
   objective presentation of the subject-matter, and to avoid doing it
   violence by forcing it into harmony with preconceived theories,--and
   his success was so great as to obtain for him the warm recognition,
   among others, of that master of Indian antiquities, Dr. A. Weber of
   Berlin. At the same time, however, he was also able to present the
   religioso-historical matter in a clear synoptical order, and to
   elucidate it from higher religioso-philosophical stand-points.

   The more he pursued his studies in the history and philosophy of
   religions, so much the more fully and renewedly he became convinced
   that the highest and the only soul-satisfying knowledge of the truth is
   to be found only by merging one's self into the Holy Scriptures and
   into the therein-witnessed revelations of the living God; hence he felt
   himself more and more attracted back to the field of theology. In 1853
   he obtained the degree of Licentiate in Theology, and changed his field
   of instruction from philosophy to that of theology; having been called
   to Berlin, in November, 1854, to an extraordinary professorship of
   theology, he found an enlarged and appreciative sphere for the exercise
   of his gifts.--In virtue of his firm and independent nature--partly
   inborn and partly developed in the severe school of experience--he felt
   also a pressing need of a firmly-based construction of his theological
   views, and of a clear, distinct, and unambiguous expression of the
   same. This need was in part met by the Lutheran form of doctrine. It is
   true, he saw very clearly the defects and imperfections which a
   scientific construction and demonstration of this doctrinal formula
   bring to light; taking into consideration, however, its essential
   features, he found in it the purest and truest didactic presentation of
   evangelical truth. [4] To preserve this form of the truth in its main
   features, and by his own deeper study of the Scriptures as well as by
   earnest systematic thought so to raise it to a new scientific
   construction that it should express the truth of the Bible in a still
   richer degree, and that in its form and demonstration it should answer
   the requirements made upon it by the present stand-point of theology
   and philosophy, and that it might be raised to a more full development
   also in fields wherein it had as yet attained only to an imperfect and
   very inadequate expression,--such was the life-task to which Dr. Wuttke
   felt himself, with ever-deepening conviction, called by God. And this
   life-task he endeavored, in the greatest conscientiousness and in the
   most unwearied and exhausting labor, to fulfill. And the animating
   spring of his labor was the consciousness so repeatedly expressed by
   him, that theology is intrusted with the preservation of sacred
   treasures. Fidelity in preserving the intrusted truth-treasure,--such
   is the animating spirit of his theologico-scientific labor; and with
   this fidelity are connected the limits and imperfections of the same.
   In this fidelity he was earnestly resolute, even in the face of the
   coryphei of theological and philosophical speculation, in rejecting all
   views and thought-constructions which seemed to him foreign to the
   spirit of the Holy Scriptures, however much they might seem to he
   characterized by profundity or by loftiness of thought, and however
   much they might bedazzle by brilliant ingenuity and by their artful
   application to Biblical ideas. This fidelity made him a decided.
   opponent of all efforts which he regarded as bent on seeking an
   accommodation between faith and unbelief. In this fidelity he
   deliberately consented to sacrifice the favor and approbation of the
   majority of his contemporaries; and he neglected no opportunity, where
   he felt the duty of championing the pure evangelical truth and of
   assailing perversions and misrepresentations of the same, manfully and
   with open visor to enter the lists, and to fight it out with keen
   weapons and without respect of persons. It is true he has, in his
   earnestness, not always awarded due honor to the views of the
   ideally-inclined theologians, nor to the results of historical and
   critical Scripture-examination. For his own person, however, he was, in
   this work, never concerned, nor for the interests of any party, but
   solely and simply for Christian truth and for the kingdom of God.

   In this sense and spirit he exercised his office of theological teacher
   in Berlin. One can well imagine how glad the late Dr. Hengstenberg was
   to have found in him so able a co-laborer, and also that he became
   warmly and intimately attached to his younger colleague. [5] But also
   the other members of the Berlin faculty, though in part of different
   churchly. and theological tendencies, fully appreciated his scientific
   ability and his faithful and fruitful academic activity; and they
   expressed their esteem publicly by conferring upon him, in 1860, the
   doctorate of theology.

   In the autumn of 1861 he accepted a call to an ordinary professorship
   of systematic theology in our university at Halle. Although, as the
   representative of a strictly churchly theology, he stood here somewhat
   isolated, still the positive evangelical tendency (a tendency based on
   faith in the revelations and redemptive acts of God as witnessed in the
   Scriptures) of the other members of the faculty (and among them the
   universally known and revered Dr. Tholuck) afforded a broad and firm
   basis for a richly productive official co-operation. Highly esteemed by
   his colleagues for his straight-forwardness, reliableness, punctuality,
   and conscientious fidelity in all his official duties, he exercised,
   here, his calling as teacher in a circle of hearers, at first
   relatively narrow, but which soon grew visibly larger, especially in
   the case of his lectures on Christian ethics; and he had the joy of
   seeing the seed, he had sown, spring up and bear fruit in many youthful
   hearts,--until on the 12th of April, 1870, after a brief sickness, it
   pleased the Lord whom he served to permit him, unexpectedly early, to
   pass from faith to sight.

   Along-side of his more specific professional activity, Dr. Wuttke was
   always ready to serve the church by special addresses, in
   ecclesiastical and other assemblies, on weighty questions of the day.
   Quite a number of these addresses have been published in Hengstenberg's
   "Evangelical Church Journal." To one of them, which was delivered in
   1858, at a church-diet at Hamburg, is due the preparation of his
   widely-popular and excellent work, "The German Popular Superstition of
   the Present," which appeared in 1860 in its first, and in 1869 in a new
   and enlarged second, edition. This work combines laborious selection
   with a lucid grouping of the abundant material, and is inspired by a
   vital interest for the health of the German national life and for the
   healing of its defects by the divine power of the Gospel.

   For the judgment and appreciation of some portions of the work here
   presented to the public, it will not be out of place to observe that
   the author took a lively and active part also in the political life of
   the nation. As early as during the revolutionary storm of 1848 he
   defended for a while, as editor of a conservative journal in
   Königsberg, the cause of legal order and of the government. And during
   his activity among us,--though in other respects living in the greatest
   seclusion,--he frequently appeared publicly, in political meetings in
   Halle and in other towns of the province of Saxony, as the spokesman of
   the constitutional party; and once he took part also in the labors of
   the national diet, to which the confidence of his fellow-citizens had
   called him.

   The work here given to the English-reading public, Christian Ethics,
   which appeared in 1861-'62 in its first, and in 1864-'65 in its second,
   revised and enlarged, edition, is Dr. Wuttke's only considerable
   theological work. He has here entered upon a field, the cultivation of
   which, his special life-task as above indicated, must have pressed upon
   him with very great urgency. Upon no other field had the scientific
   treatment of the theology he represented, remained to such a degree
   imperfect and unsatisfactory. Although Christian ethics, after the
   precedent of Danaeus on the Calvinistic side, had been raised by
   Calixtus to the dignity of an independent theological science,
   nevertheless the prevalent one-sidedly dogmatic interest hindered and
   prevented its thorough development. And when finally, since the last
   decade of the last century, a more lively scientific interest was
   turned to the subject, then, unfortunately, Christian ethics became
   involved in an almost slavish dependence upon the philosophical systems
   of a Kant, a Fichte, a Fries, a Hegel, and a Herbart, as they
   successively rose and followed each other. From this cramping pupilage,
   ethics was indeed emancipated by the Reconstructor of the collective
   body of German theology, Schleiermacher, and also radically renovated
   from the basis of the specifically Christianly-ethical principle. But
   in Schleiermacher, as well as in Rothe, Christian ethics appeared
   rather in the garb of theologico-philosophical speculation; it was not
   based directly upon the Holy Scriptures; on the contrary, these highly
   deserving men endeavored to be just to the positive Biblical basis of
   evangelical Protestantism by undertaking to reconstruct the contents of
   the Holy Scriptures directly out of the Christian consciousness; in a
   word, these ethical systems stood in no manner of close connection with
   ecclesiastical dogmatics. On the other hand, Harless had produced an
   ethics based directly upon, and derived from, the Scriptures; but in
   his method he had disdained the learned structure and the dialectical
   procedure of modern science. Wuttke was the first theologian who made
   the attempt, upon the foundation [6] of the Lutheran dogmatical
   ground-views as enriched and vitalized by personal self-immersion in
   the study of the Scriptures, to carry out, by means of the dialectical
   method, (which theology had assumed at the time of the supremacy of
   philosophy), a strictly scientific, organic structure of Christian
   ethics, which should embody in itself the fruits of precedent labors
   upon this field, and also polemically elucidate its relation to the
   various other ethical systems. In this work, however, he makes no other
   use of this dialectical method than simply to purify theological ethics
   from all elements foreign or hostile to the Biblico-ecclesiastical
   ground-thoughts, and to bring these ground-thoughts to more complete
   expression by process of inner self-development. Hence the great
   majority of churchly-minded theologians could, with great reason,
   welcome in Wuttke the, until then, lacking scientific standard-bearer
   upon the field of ethics; and consequently his work met with an
   astonishingly rapid circulation and a thankful reception. But also
   those who--as the writer of this preface [7] --stand in many respects
   upon the ground of other theological convictions, and who do not fully
   agree with many views and judgments expressed in the work, have every
   reason highly to prize this system of Ethics, and for the following
   reasons: because of its firm Biblical foundation,--because of its sharp
   and clear vindication and presentation of the ethical ground-thoughts
   of the Holy Scriptures against, and in the face of, various widespread
   errors and prevalent thought-currents of the day,--because of its
   thoroughly carried-out aim, in connection with all the rigor of a
   scientific method, to present in broad and clear light the sublime
   directness and simplicity of the truth of the Gospel,--because of the
   richness of the subject-matter which it presents, and--to mention
   especially one single feature--because of the exceedingly valuable, and
   hitherto almost entirely lacking, history both of the science of ethics
   and also of the ethical consciousness itself.

   I doubt not, therefore, that this work will meet with a hearty welcome
   also in America and in England, and that too in theological circles
   which, while not sharing the special ecclesiastical views of the
   author, will yet not fail worthily to appreciate his conscientious
   fidelity to Scripture-truth and the scientific significancy of his
   labors; and I feel confident that the work will prove serviceable in
   the promotion of a healthy and practically-fruitful theological
   knowledge.

   DR. EDUARD RIEHM,

   Professor, in ordinary, of Theology at Halle.

   HALLE, March 14th, 1872.
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   [3] Dr. Riehm, who has kindly furnished me this general preface, and to
   whom I am indebted for many valuable suggestions in regard to my
   undertaking, is one of the professors of theology at Halle, and also
   editor-in-chief of the Studien und Kritiken.--Tr.

   [4] As a German Protestant, Dr. Wuttke had practically only two choices
   in his Church-relations, namely, between the Lutheran Church and the
   Reformed or Calvinistic Church. The so-called "United" Church of
   Prussia has little more than a legal existence, the individual
   societies having mostly remained essentially Lutheran or Reformed, as
   before the union.--TR.

   [5] Dr. Wuttke, however, was free from the ultra-confessionalism of
   Hengstenberg; he even favored the "Union." See Neue evangelische
   Kirchenzeitung of May 7, 1870.--Tr.

   [6] That in the construction of his ethical system, Dr. Wuttke did not
   allow the Lutheran symbols to construe the Bible, but on the contrary
   measured them by the Bible, and freely criticized them where found
   defective, we have both his own reiterated avowal (as where, § 80, he
   declares it his purpose to write, not on ethics of this or that Church,
   but a Christian Ethics; and where, in his preface, p. 4, he declares
   the governing principles of his labors to be "honest loyalty to the
   Gospel"); and also his actual contrasting of the Lutheran and the
   Reformed ground-views (see § 37), and his ample admission that the
   Lutheran view needs to be complemented.--Tr.

   [7] I am indebted to Dr. P. Schaff for the following: "Dr. Riehm is a
   liberal Unionist of the critical school of Hupfeld, his
   predecessor."--Tr.
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AUTHOR'S PREFACE
TO THE FIRST EDITION.

   THE theology of the nineteenth century has aimed at giving special
   prominence to the ethical phase of Christianity; and yet, strangely
   enough, the scientific treatment of Christian ethics has shown, as
   compared to the other branches of theology, a far inferior
   productiveness, and in fact a degree of barrenness. This phenomenon is
   not explainable from any precedent over-fruitfulness. nor from any
   unquestioning satisfaction with any already-attained
   relatively-definitive perfection of the science, nor from the imposing
   pre-eminence of any exceptionally great author; on the contrary, every
   competent theologian knows perfectly well that no other branch of
   theology is so far from having reached any, even relatively, settled
   completeness and generally-accepted form and contents, as precisely the
   science of ethics. Even the very idea, contents, and boundaries of
   ethics, are as yet in many respects so unsettled that the different
   presentations of the science have often only very remote resemblances
   to each other; and there are some recent theologians who look upon the
   ethical field as something like an ownerless primeval forest wherein
   they are at liberty to roam at simple discretion and to give free scope
   to all sorts of pet speculations. We would of course not wish to shut
   the field of theology against philosophical thought; on the contrary,
   we regard its scientific completion as possible only on condition of
   its permeation with mature philosophical thought-labor. In view,
   however, of the not only manifold, but also (in very deep-reaching and
   essential ground-principles) self-contradicting philosophical systems
   of the time, we could not advise Theology--that guardian of sacred
   treasures--to cast itself away, in characterless self-forgetfulness,
   into the arms of the first transiently-shining philosophical system,
   and to seek its glory only in a pliable self-conformity to the
   rapidly-passing Protean forms of the philosophies of the day.
   Remarkable indeed, though not precisely very praiseworthy, is the
   metamorphic capability of those theologians who have kept pace in their
   theology with the entire history of philosophy from Kant down to Hegel,
   and have furnished the public at each decade with an entirely different
   form of theology. It is not scientific truthfulness to attempt
   violently to force together irreconcilable elements; and it is high
   time that the day were past when men presume to introduce Spinozistic
   and other kindred Hegelian conceptions into Christian ethics as its own
   contents proper. We fully recognize the high services of precisely the
   latest forms of philosophy, for the science of ethics; but we must
   guard against allowing theological ethics, as conscious of its divinely
   revealed contents, and as basing itself upon the holy Scriptures, to be
   cramped and thrown into the background by these philosophical systems.
   Precisely the most recent developments in this field justify us in
   entertaining, at this point, a prudent distrust. The manner in which
   some have introduced philosophical, or a so-called "theological,
   speculation" into the field of Christian ethics, reminds one only too
   much of the feats of the suitors of Penelope in the house of Ulysses,
   who presume to cast their footstools at the head of the returning
   master, and yet prove incapable even of bending the bow of the hero, to
   say nothing of shooting through the twelvefold target.

   What we attempt in the present work is neither speculative ethics nor
   yet Biblical ethics in the sense of a purely exegetico-historical
   science, but, in fact, a system of theological ethics based on the
   substance and spirit of the Bible, and constructed into a scientific
   form, not by the help of a philosophy foreign to that spirit, but by
   the inner self-development of the spirit itself. Whether we have
   properly comprehended this spirit, and whether we have faithfully
   learned from the general history of science, including also philosophy,
   others will have to judge; this much, however, we know, that we have
   endeavored to acquire such learning only in honest loyalty to the
   Gospel. And the fact that we have omitted to employ many technical
   forms that have been imposed upon this science by ingenious authors,
   will, we hope, be regarded, by those who have grown familiar with said
   forms, as at least an indication of a sincere endeavor on our part to
   avoid breaking the impression of simple evangelical truth by any
   element foreign to the spirit of the Scriptures, however much it may
   enjoy the prestige of profundity, and however artfully it may have been
   fitted upon Christian ideas.

   BERLIN, Dec. 31, 1860.
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AUTHOR'S PREFACE

  TO THE SECOND EDITION.

   WITHIN a surprisingly brief period a new edition of this System of
   Ethics has become necessary.

   To many critics of' the work we feel ourselves thankfully indebted; of
   others, however, we regret to have to say that, instead of scientific
   earnestness, they have manifested only passionate hostility. It is
   true, we have gone at our work with honesty and plainness of speech,
   and have touched somewhat ungently upon certain sore places in the more
   recent forms of theology; and the tone of ill-will in which the
   opposers have indulged would seem to indicate that the right spot has
   been probed; and we are in fact cheerfully ready to be subjected to the
   most searching criticism. There is an immense difference, however,
   between actual confutation and unworthy abuse. Some critics have
   charged this work with being an "attentat" against the "inalienable"
   conquests of modern science; this sounds almost as badly as when, in
   times past, a certain class of theologians spoke of "attentats" against
   the teachings of the Church and against the symbolical books. There is,
   in fact, in the field of contemporary unbelief both an "orthodoxy"
   which does not stand a whit behind the intolerance of former and much
   despised ages in its hereticating of dissenters, and an authority-faith
   in the so-called "heroes" of contemporary science, which exalts the
   pretentions of the said science to infallibility in exact proportion as
   it is zealous against a real faith in the Scriptures, and tramples
   their claims into the dust. Just such a deference to writers who let
   only their own light shine, (a light kindled not at the divine light,
   but only at the faintly-shining wisdom of the anti-Christian world,)
   still weighs down like an Alp upon the theology of the present day, and
   especially upon ethics; and to do battle against a spiritual despotism
   of this character, must be to take a step in the direction of true
   progress. Incredulity constitutes, in fact, in our day no slight
   recoinmendat4on; will the public, therefore, not let us enjoy the
   advantage of a little incredulity as to the Apostolical calling of
   certain recent authors who have forced the Pantheism of Spinoza into
   the doctrines of Christianity? We are not unaware, however, that only
   that one can hope for favor and popularity with the multitude of
   to-day, who makes amends for his faith in the living Christ by strewing
   incense upon the altars of the divinities of recent literature,--who
   fuses together the Apostolical doctrines with the unquestioningly
   infallible-assumed "results of modern culture,"--in a word, who selects
   the golden middle-way between simple evangelical faith and God-denying
   unbelief: the tints just now in vogue are indefinite and indesignable.
   We frankly confess that, in scientific respects, we can less readily
   come to an understanding with this nondescript olla-podrida theology
   than with those who make a clean sweep of Christianity at once. Upon
   firm earth one can walk erect, in water one can swim; but in a miry
   marsh, which mingles earth and water together, one can neither walk nor
   swim. We must submit to let those who imagine that they stand or swim
   upon the heights of "modern" culture look disdainfully down upon us,
   and reproach us with not being abreast with the times; let them do that
   to which they are called; we, however, have a sure prophetic word, and
   we think we do well to give heed to it as to a light that shines in a
   dark place, until the day dawn and the morning-star arise in the hearts
   of all, [2 Peter i, 19]; and we feel confident that in so doing we have
   chosen the "good part, which will not be taken from us" when the
   specious fruits of the un-Christian culture of the day shall be swept
   away, without leaving a trace, by the streams of still newer progress.
   To those to whom appreciation for recent science is synonymous with an
   unconditional homage to every pretentiously-rising system, we must be
   content to appear as non-appreciative; meantime, however, may we not
   suggest that these gentlemen would do well to come to an understanding
   among themselves as to precisely which of the more recent and violently
   inter-contradictory systems represents the real progress proper, and as
   to how long it will do so, before we be peremptorily required to
   disregard the exhortation of the Holy One, to "hold that fast which
   thou hast, that no man take thy crown" [Rev. iii, 11]. We regard it as
   the first scientific duty of a true truth-seeker not to suffer himself
   to be captivated by the flickering glare of great names and by the
   sham-gold of pretended latest discoveries, and not to let himself be
   intoxicated and carried away by the indiscriminate applause of the
   multitude. We greatly rejoice to see that precisely the most recent
   productions upon the field of ethics (Harless, Schmid, Palmer) give
   proof of evangelical soundness, and we shall anxiously await to see
   whether the rapidly-erring and deteriorating "theology of progress"
   will not, in its turn, enter upon this field,--whether Rothe, who
   (encouraged and urged on by the well-calculated applause of this party)
   shows as yet no signs of hesitation to do service in the ranks of the
   sympathizers with Strauss and Renan, will not make up his mind to turn
   to the service of sound words, or whether in the interest of an
   erroneous system he will drive even still deeper the wounds which he
   has already inflicted upon evangelical faith,--to which at bottom his
   heart belongs.

   HALLE, August, 1864.
     __________________________________________________________________

CONTENTS.

   PAGE
   INTRODUCTION.

   I. THE IDEA OF ETHICS, AND THE POSITION OF THIS SCIENCE IN THE FIELD OF
   SCIENCE IN GENERAL
   13

   § 1. THE IDEA
   13

   § 2. PHILOSOPHICAL ETHICS
   16

   § 3. THEOLOGICAL ETHICS
   21
   II. THE SCIENTIFIC TREATMENT OF ETHICS, § 4 27

   III. THE HISTORY OF ETHICS AND OF THE MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS IN GENERAL, §
   5
   35

   A. THE MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS AND THE ETHICS OF HEATHEN NATIONS, § 6
   37

   § 7. THE UNHISTORICAL NATIONS; THE CHINESE
   43

   § 8. THE INDIANS
   47

   § 9. THE EGYPTIANS AND THE SEMITIC NATIONS
   54

   § 10. THE PERSIANS
   58

   § 11. THE GREEKS
   62

   § 12. SOCRATES
   69

   § 13. THE 0YNICS AND THE CY RENAICS
   72

   §§ 14-15. PLATO
   75

   §§ 16-21. ARISTOTLE
   92

   §§ 22-25. THE EPICUREANS AND THE STOICS
   126

   § 26. THE SKEPTICS AND THE NEO-PLATONISTS; THE ROMANIS
   144

   B. OLD TESTAMENT AND JEWISH ETHICS.

   § 27. THE CANON OF THE OLD TESTAMENT
   151

   § 28. THE APOCRYPHAL BOOKS, THE TALMUD
   169

   [ISLAMISM]
   171

   C. CHRISTIAN ETHICS, § 29
   173

   1. THE ANCIENT CHURCH, §§ 30, 31
   180

   2. THE MIIDDLE AGES, § 32
   199

   §§ 33, 34. SCHOLASTICS AND CASUISTICS
   200

   § 35. TItE MYSTICS AND THE PROTO-REFORMERS
   223

   3. THE EPOCH OF REFORM, § 36
   233

   § 37. THE EVANGELICAL ETHICS OF THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES
   235

   §§ 38, 39. ROMISH ETHICS
   255, 273

   § 40. PHILOSOPHICAL ETHICS BEFORE KANT
   217

   § 41. DEISTIC AND NATURALISTIC ETHICS
   301

   § 42. THE EVANGELICAL ETHICS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
   324

   § 43. KANT
   32

   § 44. FICHTE
   338

   § 45. SCHELLING; JACOBI
   341

   § 46. HEGEL AND HIS SCHOOL
   345

   § 47. THE MOST RECENT PHILOSOPHY
   355

   § 48. THE EVANGELICAL ETHICS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY
   359

   § 49. ROMISH ETHICS
   375
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

                               CHRISTIAN ETHICS.

INTRODUCTION.
     __________________________________________________________________

I. IDEA OF ETHICS, AND THE POSITION OF THIS SCIENCE IN THE FIELD OF SCIENCE IN
GENERAL.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION I.

   ETHICS, as belonging to the sphere both of philosophy and of theology,
   is the science of the moral, and hence Christian ethics is the science
   of Christian morals. But the moral lies in the sphere of the freedom of
   rational creatures, as in contrast to mere nature-objects. Man, as a
   rational being, has the end of his life, not as one realizing itself in
   him spontaneously and with unconditional necessity, but, on the
   contrary, he has it primarily only ideally, in his rational
   consciousness, so that he cannot attain to it by a mere unconscious
   letting himself alone, but only by a personally and freely-willed
   life-activity; but also, for that very reason, he can fail of it by his
   own fault;-- and the essence of this life-development of man, as
   relating to the realizing of his rational life-purpose, is the moral;
   that is, when normal, the morally-good, and when guiltily-perverted,
   the morally-evil.

   So much merely preliminarily; the more complete demonstration can be
   given only further on. The sphere of freedom is that of the moral;
   whatever is moral is essentially free, and whatever is free is moral.
   There is, indeed, an immorally-incurred unfreedom, but even this
   unfreedom is essentially different from the unfreedom of nature. He
   who, in contradiction to the Christian as well as to the
   universally-human consciousness, denies moral freedom in general, and
   places even man's moral activity into the sphere of unconditional
   necessity, may indeed give a description of the seemingly-moral, but he
   cannot place upon man a moral requirement; in the presence of the
   "must" the "should" disappears. Such a denier would at least have to
   regard the contradictory and almost universal consciousness of freedom
   as also posited by unconditional necessity--thus surrendering all right
   to assail the same. We may therefore here preliminarily presuppose it
   as the utterance of the general human consciousness when not perverted
   by one-sided theories, that the moral lies neither in the sphere of
   cognition nor of natural necessity, but in the sphere of the freedom of
   the rational will. Where there is no freedom of will, there we speak
   neither of the morally-good nor of the morally-evil. Moral willing,
   however, is not of a blind, fortuitous, but of a rational, character;
   that is, it wills a rational something, something willed by God, and
   that too in a rational manner--or, indeed, it wills it not; but also
   this non-willing, that is, the morally-evil, relates, though
   negatively, to a rational end.

   In the Scriptures, the ethical phase of Christian doctrine is
   designated as "the knowledge of God's will in all wisdom and spiritual
   understanding" (Col. i, 9); that is, of that which God "requires" of us
   (Deut. x, 12; comp. Phil. iv, 8). Of other definitions of ethics we
   will mention but the more important. Unquestionably all such are to be
   rejected as express merely an outward collection of single moral
   thoughts, as, e. g., "an ordered digest of rules by which man, and,
   more specifically, a Christian, is to shape his life;" this would not
   be a science, but only a collection of material for a science;
   moreover, rules are only one phase of the moral thought, for rules must
   have a basis, an end, and an inner logical unity, all of which lies
   outside of this definition. Many writers designate ethics as the
   description of a morally normal development. But, properly speaking,
   only that can be described which is real; not, however, that which
   simply ought, but is not necessitated, to become real. Even the
   describing of the person of Christ as the ideal of the moral, gives
   only a part of Christian ethics, inasmuch as Christ could not, in his
   actual life, represent all the phases of the moral. And besides, ethics
   has not merely to do with the morally-normal, but it has also to treat
   of sin and the contest with it as an actual power; and, moreover, it
   has not merely to describe, but also to prove and to establish.

   The majority of theological moralists present at once the definition of
   Christian ethics; but this more restricted notion cannot be understood
   without the more comprehensive notion of ethics in general. The
   declaration (Harless and others) that ethics is the theoretical
   presentation of the Christianly-normal life-course, or the
   development-history of man as redeemed by Christ, is both too narrow
   and too broad at the same time: too narrow, inasmuch as ethics must
   unquestionably speak also of the non-normal life-course, and that, too,
   not merely incidentally and introductorily, but as of one of its
   essential elements; and too broad, because, in fact, many things belong
   to such a life-course which belong not to the sphere of the moral, but
   to the objective workings of divine grace upon the moral subject. Such
   a definition is rather that of the order of Christian salvation, which,
   however, is not wholly embraced in the notion of the moral. It is true,
   Christian ethics must take into consideration the workings of divine
   grace, but only, however, as its presupposition; the becoming seized
   upon by the influence of divine grace leads, indeed, to morality, but
   lies not itself in the, moral sphere. According to Schleiermacher,
   Christian ethics is "the presentation of communion with God as
   conditioned by communion with Christ, the Redeemer, in so far as this
   communion with God is the motive of all the actions of the Christian,
   or the description of that manner of action which springs from the
   domination of the Christianly-determined self-consciousness;" [8] this,
   however, is two mutually complementing definitions, each of which
   expresses by itself only one phase of ethics.

   As to the name applied to the science, the German expression
   "Sittenlehre," usual since the time of Mosheim, is ambiguous, being
   capable of being understood as the doctrine of customs instead of the
   doctrine of the moral. The term ethics is the most ancient, as dating
   from Aristotle himself; ethos, radically related to ethos, from the
   root ezo, "to set" and "to sit," signifies in Homer the seat, the
   dwelling-place, the home, and hence, at a later period, that which has
   become the fixed definite home of the spirit--that wherein the spirit
   feels itself at home as in its own peculiar element, and hence manner,
   primarily in the sense of habit; that is, a manner of action as having
   become second nature. In this sense the word ethe occurs also in the
   New Testament (1 Cor. xv, 33.) But the signification of the word
   advances, further, to that of the moral proper, as objective-grown
   custom, which presents itself to the individual with the authority of
   law; ethos is therefore a spiritual power to which the individual
   subordinates himself, as in contradistinction to the rude lawlessness
   of man as uncultured and savage, and which, in so far as it is no
   longer a power foreign and opposed to man, appears as character. [9]
   The Romans used generally, for this idea, the term mores, and hence
   Cicero and Seneca speak of a philosophia moralis. In Germany this
   science was formerly called "Moral"--theologia s. philosophia
   moralis--and frequently also theologia s. philosophia practica. But
   after the word "Moral" had been appropriated by the advocates of
   deistic illuminism, and degraded into the most spiritless
   superficiality, the term became involved in such prejudicial
   associations that later writers preferred to avoid it, and resorted
   again to the German term used by Mosheim, or to the one originally used
   by Aristotle.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [8] Christl. Sitte, pp. 32, 33.

   [9] Aristot., Eth. Nic., i, 13.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION II.

   As a philosophical science, ethics forms a part of the philosophy of
   the spirit,--has as presuppositions speculative theology and
   psychology, and stands in the closest relation to the science of
   history as the objective, realization of the moral life. As standing
   within the science of spirit, it presents, as in contrast to knowledge,
   the active phase of the rational spirit-life, whereby man, as having
   come to rational self-consciousness, makes into reality that which
   exists in hirm primarily only as an idea,--makes his
   spiritually-rational nature as existing objectively to him into a
   nature freely-willed and posited by himself.

   All philosophy has to do essentially with three objects: the thoughts
   of God, of nature, and of the human spirit. Ethics, as belonging to the
   third sphere, has, co-ordinate to itself within this sphere, the
   science of psychology as treating of the nature of the individual mind
   and of its development, and the science of history as portraying the
   development of the collective spirit; it is in some sense the unity of
   the two; it is psychology, in that it presents, in fact, the highest
   form of the soul-life, the rationally-free life; and it is history, in
   that it embraces man not as isolated, but as an organic member of the
   whole, and considers his activity as directed toward the rational
   shaping of collective humanity. Ethics gives to history its rational
   goal; and all morality has the perfect shaping of universal history as
   its ultimate end. A real understanding of history is not possible
   without ethics; universal history is the realization of the moral--the
   good and also the evil--within humanity; hence history, the actual
   contents of which lie of course outside of the sphere of purely
   philosophical knowledge, is an important teacher of morality--teaching
   by example in sacred history, and by caution and warning in profane.

   The position here assigned to philosophical ethics takes the definition
   of that science in its widest sense, and embraces also right and art.
   While the view which merges morality essentially into either right or
   art is very one-sided and a mistaking of the nature of the moral in
   general, it would not be less erroneous entirely to shut out the moral
   from these two spheres, and to place it simply along-side of them; the
   moral is rather, as the superior element, above them, and right and art
   have truth only in so far as they are special realization-forms of the
   moral; there is, in truth, no immoral right and no immoral beauty,
   although by sinful man the wrong is often regarded as right, and the
   un-beautiful as beautiful.

   Schleiermacher, in his Philosophical Ethics, gives a definition of
   philosophical ethics, based on the views of Fichte and Schelling, which
   entirely differs from the usual one. In assuming two chief sciences,
   that of nature and that of reason, whereof each may be treated either
   empirically or speculatively, according as the reality or the essence
   of the object is more directly taken into view, he obtains four
   sciences in all. The empirical science of nature is natural history;
   the speculative science of nature is physics; the empirical science of
   reason is history; the speculative science of reason is ethics. Hence
   ethics "is the knowledge of the essence of reason," and stands in the
   same relation to history as speculation to experience, and is hence
   essentially the philosophy of history. Under such conditions it would
   be more correct to call ethics the philosophy of the spirit; but
   Schleiermacher evades this, no less manifest than necessary,
   consequence; logic and psychology belong, according to him, not to
   ethics, for psychology corresponds to natural history, and hence is
   "the empirical knowledge of the activity of the spiritual;" and logic
   belongs, empirically-treated, to psychology, and,
   speculatively-treated, to physics. [10] Though, by means of this
   strange conception of logic and psychology, the immeasurable sphere of
   ethics as fixed by the first definition is somewhat reduced, still
   there yet remains for it a very unusually wide field, and it embraces,
   with the exception of physics, the whole of philosophical theology and
   of the philosophy of history; and as natural history and physics have
   like extent of field, differing only in point of view taken, so the
   fields of empirical history and of ethics are also co-extensive, and
   ethics is nothing other than the speculative consideration of history.
   "History is the example-book of ethics, and ethics is the form-book of
   history;" but history is, when so viewed, every thing which is not mere
   nature; and as, in the highest instance, nature and reason are
   essentially identical, nature being reason, and reason nature, hence'
   in the highest view of the matter ethics is physics and physics
   ethics," whereas in a lower view of the matter ethics is conditioned,
   as to contents and form, by physics, and physics by ethics. It is
   evident at once that according to these definitions ethics is something
   entirely other than what is usually understood thereby in the
   scientific world; and it involves not a little courage to undertake to
   justify the applying of the term ethics to this extensive field. This
   scientifically-unjustifiable extension of the field of ethics has
   occasioned much confusion; and Rothe's "Theological Ethics" suffers
   also from this lack of limitation, whereas Schleiermacher himself
   carefully avoided applying to theological ethics this philosophical
   conception, which in fact sprang more from an ingenious thought-play
   than from an inner consequential development of the ground-principle.
   Indeed, even in his philosophical ethics, Schleiermacher very soon
   introduces a much narrower notion, without any logical justification
   thereto ill his system. Thus ethics is, presently, made to appear as
   "the scientific presentation of human action," which manifestly cannot
   be regarded as identical with the notion of the "speculative knowledge
   of the essence of reason." But also this new declaration is much too
   indefinite; it is not action in general, but moral action, that belongs
   to ethics. Should we thus find this narrower definition too
   comprehensive still, then we are relieved by the declaration that
   ethics is the "speculative knowledge of the collective activity of
   reason upon nature," and are at once thrown into a field so narrow as
   to be obliged to exclude from ethics a very essential, nay, the most
   essential, part of this science. For all morality is not embraced in an
   activity of reason upon nature; in however wide a sense "nature" be
   taken, still it always stands over against reason as of a different
   character,--is that which, in empirical respects, constitutes the field
   of natural science, natural history, etc. The moral cultivation of the
   heart--humility, truthfulness, the moral disposition in general, the
   whole sphere of the purely spiritual life--belongs not at all to this
   activity upon nature. On the other hand, this definition is also much
   too comprehensive, inasmuch as there may be also an extra-moral and an
   immoral interpenetration of reason and nature, and an immoral activity
   of reason upon nature; but should it be said that this, now, would not
   be the true moral reason, then this would virtually imply that the
   moral is to be sought elsewhere than in this activity of reason upon
   nature,--would place it in reason as such. As, in the view of
   Schleiermacher, ethics is only the speculative reverse-side of history,
   hence he requires, consequentially enough, that it be presented
   essentially historically. "The style of ethics is the historical; for
   only where manifestation and law are given as the same is the view
   taken a scientific one. Hence the style can be neither imperative nor
   consultative. The form of ethics is the development of a theoretical
   view. The formula of the should' is entirely inadmissible, as this
   formula rests upon an antagonism to the law, whereas it is the part of
   science to present this antagonism as a mere appearance." This
   position, (harmonizing with the view expressed in his "Discourses on
   Religion,") which, from the stand-point of Pantheistic determinism, is
   quite consequential, we simply mention in passing, in order to explain,
   in some manner, this position of ethics in Schleiermacher. Even as the
   other speculative science, namely, physics, does not present what
   should be, but what really is and must be, so also Pantheistic ethics
   has to do only with the "is" and the "must be," but not with the
   "should;" all reality is here rational; all disagreement with the law
   is mere appearance; there exists nothing else than what must be; hence
   ethics has simply to present for the reason-life the laws, even as
   physics, for the nature-life, and is just as certain of the agreement
   of reality with these laws as astronomy is certain of the occurrence of
   a calculated eclipse of the moon. On the contrary, so soon as by the
   admission of moral will-freedom, even the possibility of an antagonism
   of moral reality to the moral law is conceded, ethics presents itself
   at once with the should; for the moral law has unconditional validity,
   whether man really fulfills it or not. Ethics is only in so far purely
   historical as perfect morality is also personal reality; hence
   Christian ethics bears, indeed, essentially also a historical
   character, because Christ is, for it, the moral ideal;--for others,
   however, it bears the form of the "should." Pantheistic ethics makes
   collective humanity the real expression of the moral idea,--makes
   humanity its Christ. And that Schleiermacher's philosophical ethics is
   by no means free of a Pantheistic character, is undeniable.

   Hegel conceives of ethics as one of the phases of the Philosophy of the
   Spirit, and more specifically as the sphere of the objective spirit in
   contradistinction to that of the subjective, which embraces
   anthropology, the phenomenology of the spirit, and psychology. The
   spirit, as having come to itself and become free, realizes itself, in
   that, as free rational will, it posits itself outwardly,--forms for
   itself a world corresponding to itself, which is the expression of the
   spirit. This objective reality of the free spirit, which becomes for
   the individual subject an objective power whereby the subject is
   determined in his freedom, and which consequently is to be recognized
   by the individual, is, as of a universal character, for the individual,
   law. Hence this will of objective rationality is right, which becomes
   for the individual, duty. But in that right does not remain a merely
   objective power, but makes itself immanent in the individual subject,
   so that the individual will becomes an expression of the general will,
   and right finds in the subject free recognition--becomes subjective
   disposition--so the notion of right transforms itself into that of
   morality, which in its turn--by not remaining merely subjective, but by
   forming for itself in the spheres of the family, of civil society, and
   of the state, a complete rational reality, wherein the free spirit
   finds its self-created and perfectly self-answering home--exalts itself
   to customariness. [11] Hegel styles this development of the objective
   spirit, not ethics--to which he surely had a higher right than
   Schleiermacher for his much more comprehensive notion, (inasmuch as the
   ethical is the highest phase of this development,) --but the philosophy
   of right. The entire contents of this philosophy of right fall indeed
   into the sphere of ethics in the wider sense of the term, though the
   entire contents of Christian ethics do not fall into the sphere of this
   philosophy of right. Ethics has, according to the Christian view, not
   merely to create an objective world of rationality, but also to make
   the moral personality itself a perfect expression of rationality; hence
   many things which Hegel treats of in the philosophy of the subjective
   spirit belong to ethics; and this is doubtless the principal reason why
   Hegel (much more cautious and less arbitrary in his notions and their
   definitions than Schleiermacher) designates the science of the
   objective spirit, not ethics, but the doctrine of right.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [10] System der Ethik, edited by Schweizer, 1835, §§ 55, sqq., 60, 61,
   87.

   [11] Philosophie des Geistes, § 481, sq.; Rechtsphilosophie, p. 22,
   sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION III.

   As a theological science ethics forms a part of systematic theology, in
   which it stands in closest connection with dogmatics, and has dogmatics
   as its immediate presupposition. The two sciences belong together in
   organic unity, and cannot be entirely separated from each other.
   Dogmatics presents the essence, the contents, and the object of the
   religious consciousness; ethics presents this consciousness as a power
   determining the human will. Dogmatics embraces the good as reality,
   that is, as it, through God, is, or becomes, or, by the fault of moral
   creatures, is not; ethics, on the contrary, embraces this good as a
   task for the free, and hence moral, activity of man; that is, as, on
   the basis of the religious consciousness, it should become in reality.
   Dogmatics presents reality, in the sphere of the divine and religious,
   for man, as an object of the religious consciousness; on the contrary,
   ethics presents the religions consciousness as a power creating a
   spiritual reality; that is, it presents a reality as going out from man
   as a religions subject. Hence dogmatics bears predominantly an
   objective character--relates to knowledge; and ethics predominantly a
   subjective character--relates to willing.

   Theoretical theology--in contradistinction to practical theology, which
   presents the ecclesiastico-pastoral application of the subject-matter
   given in theoretical theology--is partly historical and partly
   systematic. Ethics has indeed a historical foundation, and stands in
   constant relation to history, but in itself it is no more history than
   is dogmatics; exegesis and Church history furnish only the material for
   ethics. The separating of ethics from dogmatics, with which it was
   formerly, and up to the time of Danaeus and Calixtus, intimately
   involved, is difficult, and, in fact, not without violence, entirely
   practicable; both sciences reach over into each other like two
   intersecting circles, and have, under all circumstances, some territory
   in common; the general foundations of ethics are based in the
   corresponding thoughts of dogmatics.

   The usual and quite natural statement, that dogmatics shows what we
   should believe, and ethics what we should do, is only proximatively
   correct, and is inadequate; for also the moral laws and maxims are an
   object of faith; and "what we should believe" bears, even in the
   correct expression itself, the character of a moral requirement.
   Believing, itself, is of a moral character; ethics cannot confine
   itself to the mere outward action, but must have to do also with the
   inward, with the disposition. According to Harless, dogmatics presents
   the essence of the objective ground of salvation, and of the objective
   mediation of salvation, whereas ethics presents the subjective
   realization of the life-goal as established by Christ; dogmatics
   presents the objective salvation-power as determining the Christian;
   ethics presents the personal life-movement of the Christian toward his
   highest life-goal; ethics gives answer to the question, What thinkest
   thou of Christ? dogmatics to the question, What thinkest thou of the
   right manner of the Christian's life in the world? This declaration
   limits the two sciences quite too much: dogmatics must in fact speak
   also of man and of the order of salvation; and ethics must speak also
   of the objective law and of sin. According to Schleiermacher's
   theological ethics, ethics presents the Christian self-consciousness in
   its relative motion, while dogmatics presents the same in its relative
   rest; dogmatics answers the question, What must be, because the
   religious heart-state is? ethics the question, What must become out of
   the religious self-consciousness and through the same, because the
   religious self-consciousness is? This antithesis is not entirely to the
   point, for, on the one hand, dogmatics treats not merely of what is,
   but also of what becomes, as, e. g., in the doctrines of regeneration
   and of eschatology; as, on the other hand, ethics treats not only of
   what becomes, but necessarily also of what morally is, as well normally
   as abnormally. Virtue is not a mere becoming, but an ens, as
   Schleiermacher himself admits; the good when attained, certainly does
   not for that reason cease to be an object of ethics. The antithesis of
   motion and rest is in this sphere utterly unapt. Schleiermacher
   presents the matter also thus: the dogmatical propositions are those
   which express the relation of man to God as an interest, namely, as,
   under its manifold modifications, it passes over into conceptions;
   whereas the ethical propositions express the same thing, but as an
   inner impetus, horme, an impulse, which goes out into a cycle of
   actions. But also this is not quite correct; for also ethics expresses
   a relation of man to God in conceptions or thoughts, which do not per
   se include in themselves an inner impetus, as, e. g., in the questions
   as to the moral essence of man, as to the moral idea per se, and in the
   entire doctrine of goods.

   The difficulty in defining the difference lies less in the general
   antithesis than rather in those points where both sciences must treat
   of the same topics. The doctrines of the moral essence of man, of the
   divine law, of sin, of sanctification, of the Church, belong strictly
   to dogmatics; but ethics must necessarily treat also of all these
   things, so that it might after all seem advisable, in order to avoid
   repetitions, to unite both into one science again, as was formerly the
   case, and as has been done recently by Nitzsch, and in part also by
   Sartorius. But the separate treatment of ethics rests in fact, aside
   from weighty practical reasons, upon a wide-reaching inner difference;
   and those points which fall within the scope of both sciences, are
   nevertheless treated, in each, from a different stand-point, and in a
   very different manner. Both of them present a life pf the spirit--of
   God or of man--but dogmatics views this life as an objective fact,
   while ethics views it as a task for the free activity of the rational
   subject; hence dogmatics has essentially an objective and real
   character, while ethics has a subjective and ideal one. Dogmatics has
   constantly to do with an object transcending the individual, with God,
   with Christ, with man in general; ethics has to do primarily always
   with the individual moral person, and with the totality only in so far
   as it rests upon the moral action of the individual personality. What
   dogmatics teaches relates not to me as this single person, but as a
   human being in general; what ethics teaches concerns me precisely as a
   person. Dogmatics treats of sin per se, as an objective something and
   as an historical fact; ethics treats of the same as a personal malady
   and as guilt. Dogmatics treats of the kingdom of God as an objective
   organism; ethics treats of the same in so far as the moral subject is
   an organic member thereof. Dogmatics treats of sanctification as a
   manifestation-forum of the kingdom of God; ethics treats of the same as
   a subjective life-manifestation of the person. "The kingdom of God
   comes indeed without our prayer"--that is dogmatical; "but we ask in
   this prayer that it come also to us"--this is ethical. Dogmatics
   sketches the physical chart of the kingdom of God; ethics sketches the
   ways and dwelling-places therein. The object of dogmatics is absolutely
   independent of the freedom of the individual subject--is either eternal
   or an historical fact--is in nowise within the power of man; the object
   of ethics is, in its reality, absolutely dependent on the free
   resolution of the subject--is per se a pure idea, the realization of
   which is a requirement upon the free activity of man.--Dogmatics
   presents that which is, or was, or will be; ethics presents that which
   should be or should not be; hence dogmatics presents always an
   unconditionally-secured result, either of an accomplished or of a
   destined movement; ethics, however, presents a task, the accomplishing
   of which is conditioned on the free assent of man. The contents of
   dogmatics relate essentially to knowledge and faith; those of ethics to
   volition. Dogmatics wills that man accept the truth; ethics wills that
   he do it. Hence man's relation to dogmatics is rather passive--womanly;
   and to ethics rather active--manly. In the sphere of dogmatics there is
   a revelation of the divine for man; in that of ethics a revelation of
   the divine through man, who has received this element into himself. In
   dogmatics the movement of the divine goes out from the divine
   middle-point toward the created periphery; in ethics, on the contrary,
   it goes back from the periphery toward God as the middle-point. In
   dogmatics God is conceived of as the ground, as the point of departure;
   in ethics as the goal of the life-movement; in dogmatics man's relation
   is more epic; in ethics more dramatic. Dogmatics is predominantly
   ontological and historical; ethics is predominantly teleological. Both
   sciences treat of man and his activity--dogmatics, however, in so far
   as man is an object for God; ethics, in so far as God is an aimed-at
   object for man. Dogmatics is related to ethics, as psychology to
   pedagogy, as physiology to dietetics, as botany to horticulture, as
   animal sensation to motion. [12]

   From all this it is apparent that ethics has dogmatics necessarily as
   its presupposition--that it is the second and not the first. Ethics is
   faith as having become a subjective life-power--faith in so far as it
   is an operative force, The popular instruction in the Scriptures
   implies, throughout, this relative position of dogmatics and ethics, in
   that it presents the moral command after the subject-matter of faith,
   and bases it thereon; thus already in the Mosaic legislation (Exod. xx,
   2, sqq.), and thus again in most of the New Testament epistles. (Comp.
   also Matt. vii, 21, 24, sqq.; John xiii, 17; xv, 1, sqq.; 1 Cor. xiii,
   2; Col. i, 4-10; 2 Tim. iii, 14, sqq.; Titus i, 1; James i, 22, sqq.;
   ii, 14, sqq.; 1 John ii, 4.)

   Deviating entirely from this view, Rothe places ethics in a wholly
   different field from dogmatics. In his view ethics belongs to
   speculative, and dogmatics to historical, theology; they do not stand
   along-side of each other, do not run parallel to each other, but belong
   to entirely different forms of theology. The difference of the two
   sciences lies not in their respective objects, for these objects are in
   fact essentially the same, but in the manner of their scientific
   treatment. Dogmatics is the science of dogmas, that is, of the
   ecclesiastically-authorized articles of faith, and hence has an
   empirically-given historical object, and is therefore essentially
   historical, and not at all speculative; speculative theology is, on the
   contrary, the presupposition of dogmatics. But ethics has nothing
   whatever to do with ecclesiastical doctrines, but must be treated
   purely speculatively, and is, as a speculative science, a
   presupposition of dogmatics. The theology of the evangelical Church has
   had from the very beginning, in the introduction of moral theology, no
   intention of creating a second science along-side of dogmatics, but has
   tended, though without being clearly conscious of it, toward a
   speculative theology; and this science would necessarily lead out
   beyond the hitherto-observed ecclesiastical rut--would progressively
   metamorphose the dogmas. [13] This view, constituting one of the many
   eccentricities of the Rothean theology, is utterly without sufficient
   ground. It is entirely arbitrary to place speculative theology
   along-side of dogmatics, and to declare ethics as belonging exclusively
   to the former. Both sciences admit of being treated purely
   theologically or purely speculatively, though indeed all their contents
   cannot be embraced speculatively; and with the same right whereby the
   speculative doctrine of God and of the world is excluded from
   dogmatics, may also the speculative portions of ethics be excluded from
   this science, and ethics be, then, declared as a purely empirical
   science. A large portion of ethics proper lies without the scope of a
   purely speculative treatment, as is in fact sufficiently evinced by the
   third part of Rothe's ethics. It may indeed be questioned whether
   speculation is admissible at all in theology; if it is, however, once
   admitted, then it is quite as much in place in dogmatics as in
   ethics--as indeed not an insignificant portion of the Rothean ethics is
   nothing other than speculative dogmatics; and there is no manner of
   justification for degrading dogmatics, as in contrast to the historical
   development of the science, into a merely dogmatico-historical
   statement of the doctrines of the Church. And in that Rothe regards the
   dogmatical field as not at all bordering upon the ethical, he obtains
   full liberty to extend immeasurably the boundaries of ethics, so that
   this science thus receives a compass elsewhere unparalleled, even in
   Schleiermacher's philosophical system. Not merely does Rothe preface
   his ethics with a thorough presentation of the whole of speculative
   theology by way of introduction (in which connection he reaches far
   over, and not any too aptly, into the field of natural philosophy), but
   also he receives into ethics itself many entirely foreign subjects, e.
   g., eschatology. Moreover, also the facts of redemption through Christ
   are presupposed in this ethics, as a Christian one, not however as
   furnished by dogmatics, but by the immediate religious consciousness.
   Under such circumstances it seems more than arbitrary to declare the
   scientific presentation of this consciousness, not as the scientific
   presupposition, but as a sequence of ethics.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [12] Comp. Palmer: Moral, 1864, p. 21, sqq.

   [13] Ethik, i, 38, sqq. All references to Rothe are to the first
   edition of his Ethik.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

II. SCIENTIFIC TREATMENT OF ETHICS.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION IV.

   OF the three possible methods of presenting ethics, the empirical, the
   philosophical, and the theological, the first and most ancient is to be
   regarded as the mere fore-court to the science itself. And
   philosophical ethics, as resting upon the inner necessity of rational
   thinking, can never, even when it is inspired by a Christian spirit,
   entirely assume the place of theological ethics, and displace the
   latter as a lower stage of the science; rather can it only be the
   scientific presupposition and support of the same, without, however,
   taking up into itself its actual collective contents; for theological
   ethics bears in its foundation and essence predominantly an historical
   character--has for its source the historical revelation, and for its
   essential contents the (not philosophically necessary) thoughts of the
   actual existence of sin and of the collective history of salvation,
   whereof the central point is the historical Christ (who is at the same
   time the perfect ideal of the moral), and it treats also of the
   circumstances of humanity and of individual man, as having become real
   within the scope of Christian history, which also, as the results of
   fiee action, are not to be regarded as philosophically necessary.

   A merely empirical ethics, furnishing only a series of observations and
   rules, as with the Chinese, the Indians, the older Grecian sages, and
   also to a large extent inside of the scope of Christian history, is
   only a collection of material for scientific ethics, but not ethics
   itself. In the sphere of science we have to do only with the antithesis
   of philosophical and theological ethics, in the place of which,
   however, we may not, as Schleiermacher does, [14] substitute the
   antithesis of Christian and philosophical ethics. Over against
   Christian ethics stands, not' philosophical, but non-Christian ethics;
   also a philosophical ethics may be Christian, and a Christian ethics
   philosophical; a believing Christian will in fact never otherwise
   philosophize than in a Christian spirit.

   The antithesis between philosophical and theological ethics is in
   itself simple and clear; for philosophical ethics, only that is valid
   which is developed from the per se necessary thought, with inner
   necessity; it presents the moral as a pure revelation of reason;
   theological ethics, on the contrary, conceives it as a revelation of
   faith in the personal God and in the historical Christ--as an
   expression of obedience to the revealed will of God; hence between the
   two methods of presentation there is in fact not merely an antithesis
   of method and source, but also of compass. Theological ethics,
   embracing also the sphere of the historical facts of free
   will-determination, transcends the limits of philosophical ethics. The
   two could only then be perfectly co-extensive when the sphere of moral
   freedom should be merged into that of unconditional necessity; that is,
   when the rational ground and presupposition of the ethical itself
   should be denied.--The ethical thoughts which relate to the realized
   free acts of man and of Christ can be treated of in philosophical
   ethics only hypothetically, so that philosophy shall apply the results
   obtained in the sphere of pure thought to the, not philosophically, but
   historico-empirically ascertained conditions; that is, not as pure but,
   in some sense, as mixed philosophy. But if also the historical facts of
   Christianity are to be taken up into philosophical ethics, as Palmer
   assumes, [15] then its difference from theological ethics is at least,
   not to be placed in the fact that the latter bases itself upon
   Scripture; for indeed philosophy cannot come at these facts otherwise
   than from the Scriptures, and is then in fact no longer purely
   philosophical.

   While purely philosophical ethics can develop only the general moral
   ideas, but not their application to definite historically-arisen
   relations, on the other hand, a purely theological ethics, as
   absolutely excluding all philosophical treatment, is defective, at
   least, in scientific respects. Theological ethics can appropriate to
   itself philosophy, and it is all the more scientific the more it does
   this; but it cannot take philosophy as its exclusive ground and source
   without ceasing to be theological. Hence theological ethics is, in
   respect to extent of contents and to the means at its disposal, richer
   than purely philosophical ethics. The highest perfection of Christian
   ethics is a vital union of the philosophical and the theological manner
   of treatment, namely, in that the ideas given in the moral reason
   itself are treated and speculatively developed as such, and receive
   from Christian revelation their religious confirmation; while, on the
   other hand, the actual truths lying in the sphere of the free activity
   of man himself are taken up from revelation and from historical
   experience. Such a presentation of ethics preserves its
   Christianly-theological character by the fact that, in view of the
   constantly-renewed alternation of philosophical systems, and of their
   not unfrequently weighty and essential mutual contradictions, it does
   not make the validity of the firmly-established truths of revelation
   dependent on their agreement with a particular philosophical system,
   but, on the contrary, makes the acceptance of philosophical thoughts
   and of their sequences dependent on their harmonizing with the certain
   truths of revelation. If this relation is otherwise understood, then it
   is in fact no longer a theological, but a philosophical, system.

   This antithesis between philosophical and theological ethics is
   entirely rejected by Rothe, in that he presents a theological ethics
   which is essentially speculative, and in that he definitely
   distinguishes theological speculation from philosophical, and requires
   of theological ethics that it must, as a science, be also speculative,
   whereas dogmatics cannot in the nature of things be such. Every
   speculation begins with a proto-datum,--philosophical speculation with
   the self-consciousness. But this self-consciousness is not mere
   self-consciousness, but is at the same time in some manner a determined
   one, is also a God-consciousness; the religious subject recognizes his
   self-consciousness not as an absolutely pure one, but as always at the
   same time affected by an objective determinateness, namely, the
   religious. Man is never otherwise conscious of himself than as being
   conscious at the same time also of his relation to God. This point may,
   says Rothe, be in itself controverted, but in the sphere of piety, that
   is, in the theological sphere, it is not controverted: "we deny to no
   one the right to question the reality of piety itself, but with impiety
   we have, as a matter of principle, nothing to do; there can be a system
   of theology only on the presupposition of piety; for all who are
   impious our system of speculation has no validity, and, as related to
   them, we must continue in error." According to this, there are two
   kinds of speculation, a religious and a philosophical; the latter has
   its point of departure in simple self-consciousness, the former in the
   pious self-consciousness; philosophical speculation conceives the "All"
   through the idea of the ego, theological speculation through the idea
   of God, but both are à priori; hence theological speculation is
   theosophy; it begins with the idea of God, with which idea
   philosophical speculation ends; the evidence is the same in both.
   Speculative theology must be essentially different for every peculiar
   form of piety, inasmuch as the starting-point, namely, the
   peculiarly-determined pious consciousness, is different. Hence there is
   also a peculiarly Christianly-speculative theology, and likewise for
   every Church a special one, and hence also a special
   evangelico-Christian theology; and this special speculative theology
   has in fact validity only for this particular Church--is for the others
   without significancy. This theological speculation, however, is not in
   any way bound by the dogmas of the Church in which it originates, but
   is independent of them--knows itself as co-etaneous with them; nay, it
   must in its every nature be heterodox; its purpose is in fact to
   develop the consciousness of the Church still further, and to
   reconstruct the existing dogmatical definitions. In the circle of
   theological sciences speculation occupies the first and highest place.
   The difference between theological and philosophical ethics becomes,
   now, perfectly plain. Both are speculative; but philosophical ethics
   proceeds from the moral consciousness purely as such; whereas
   theological ethics proceeds from the same as it exists in the Christian
   individual belonging to a particular Christian Church, that is, as a
   peculiarly-determined religious consciousness, and from the
   historically-given ideal of morality in the person of Christ.

   This view appears to us entirely erroneous. We cannot possibly admit
   any other than a purely philosophical speculation, at least as of a
   scientific character. In the first place it is incorrect, in point of
   fact, that philosophical speculation always proceeds from
   self-consciousness as in contradistinction to theological speculation,
   which is made to proceed from the God-consciousness. Spinoza starts
   directly from the idea of God, and his philosophy will surely not be
   called a theological speculation; in like manner also Schelling. Hegel
   begins with the idea of pure being; and this is certainly also not
   identical with self-consciousness.--Theological speculation, Rothe
   holds, differs only in its beginning, from philosophical, in that this
   beginning is, in it, somewhat more determined and more rich in
   contents, namely, as being already a religiously-determined
   self-consciousness. This is the view of Schleiermacher, who also
   proceeds from the religiously-determined self-consciousness; however,
   Schleiermacher does not undertake to base thereon a system of
   speculation, but simply a theological description of the pious
   conditions of the soul, and to argue toward their presuppositions,
   which in fact cannot, in any sense, be called speculation.
   Rothe--herein less consequential than Schleiermacher--goes beyond him
   in two respects: first, in that he carries the religious
   determinateness, the self-consciousness, even into the confessional
   phase; and, secondly, in that he undertakes to make this purely
   empirical fact the foundation of a system of speculation. The original
   self-consciousness upon which Rothe bases speculative theology, and
   more specifically ethics, is not merely religiously determined in
   general (as, e. g., with Schleiermacher, a feeling of absolute
   dependence), but also Christianly-religiously, nay, even
   evangelically-Christianly, etc., and only on the basis of such a quite
   specific determinedness is, in his view, a theological speculation
   possible. This, however, is, properly speaking, not a theological
   speculation, but a Christian, a Protestant, a Lutheran, or a Reformed
   speculation, and has in fact validity only for this special
   ecclesiastical circle; others, belonging to another Church, may
   construct their own peculiar speculations-with the speculations of
   others they have no concern, nor others with theirs; and yet all this
   is assumed to be not merely science, but in fact speculative science.
   We can find in it, however, only arbitrary assumption, and can
   recognize such products neither as speculative nor as scientific,
   neither as Christian nor as evangelical. In the first place, a real
   science, and hence above all a true speculation, cannot rest upon a
   merely fortuitous ground, but only upon an absolutely certain one. A
   speculation which concerns itself not as to whether its starting-point,
   its foundation, is certain and true, is manifestly worthless. Now the
   pretended theological speculation of Rothe bases itself upon an
   entirely fortuitously-determined religious consciousness, without
   inquiring as to its legitimacy, and then speculates thereupon
   unsuspectingly, further. Again, as the starting-point of this
   speculation is of a fortuitously-determined character, hence it can
   never have any validity save for the definite and limited circle of
   persons who in fact chance to recognize this starting-point,--has, in
   fact, no general significancy, as indeed Rothe himself expressly
   admits; and hence there is absolutely no possibility of harmony between
   the speculative theologians of different Churches; they must simply let
   each other alone, and deliver themselves in monologues; and he who
   speculates from the Protestant consciousness must renounce all hope
   that a Roman Catholic Christian may understand him, and in any degree
   enter into his line of thought--for he cannot do so. But this is a
   positive contradiction not merely to all speculation, but in fact to
   all science; nay, to the very nature of truth in general, and to
   morality itself. Truth--and every science claims to be its
   expression--can never be particular, but necessarily claims universal
   validity; every real science purposes to convince all men who are
   rational and at all capable of scientific thought; hence to renounce
   all hope of convincing other men, for the reason that they chance to
   find themselves otherwise confessionally-determined, would be
   positively immoral. No real science in general is at liberty to
   construct itself upon a fortuitously-given ba1sis, and to regard other
   equally fortuitous bases as equally valid and unassailable. I cannot,
   without treason to the truth, speculate evangelically-Christianly
   simply because I find myself in my earlier religious self-consciousness
   evangelically-Christianly determined, but only for the reason that, for
   convincing grounds, I have recognized this evangelically-Christian
   consciousness as per se true, as universally valid truth, and which
   therefore excludes, as erroneous, every contradictory view. And for the
   simple reason that the truth, in its very idea and essence, can and may
   lever be merely subjective, but must have objective and universal
   validity, and because all men should come to a knowledge of the truth
   (1 Tim. ii, 4), I absolutely dare not construct a system of speculation
   which, on principle, excludes the hope of persuading other persons of
   different confessions, which purlposes to have for such no convincing
   power, and does not regard them as called equally with me to recognize
   the truth, which as truth must be absolutely valid for them also.
   Without a firm and absolutely verified basis there can be no science. A
   speculation upon a chance, fortuitous basis is idle play without
   purpose and without worth. There would, in fact, be as many
   mutually-excluding and equally-entitled speculations as there are such
   chance presuppositions; and what would be the significancy of a science
   which aims not at convincing those in error, but only at furnishing an
   interesting entertainment for the already convinced? If the assumed
   foundation is not to be itself an object of a preliminary scientific
   examination, then in fact any and every one would be fully entitled to
   say: I find myself not merely so or so religiously, but also so or so
   morally, determined,--I find in my moral self-consciousness this
   particular desire and this particular aversion, and on the basis of
   this determinedness I propose to construct a system of speculative
   ethics! The distinction between philosophical and theological
   speculation in Rothe's sense would in fact be simply the distinction
   between science and unscientific arbitrariness. We fully admit that
   only a moral spirit can truly speculate upon the moral, and only a
   Christianly-pious spirit upon religion; but that a person is moral or
   pious is only an individual fact, but not a scientific basis of a
   system,--is a moral presupposition, but not a material principle of the
   speculation itself; piety is only the subjective condition, the impulse
   toward and the power for speculation, but not the scientific foundation
   thereof.--The strange contradiction, that this speculation, though
   proceeding from a determined ecclesiastical consciousness as the
   unassailable and unquestionable basis, yet at the same time claims to
   be entitled to pass out beyond the ecclesiastical consciousness, and
   even sets up heterodoxy as one of its requirements (a requirement which
   Rothe himself meets in a high degree), we need not here further
   elucidate.

   Rothe presents theological speculation as co-etaneous, along-side of
   philosophical. Now, however, if, as he expressly affirms, philosophical
   speculation in proceeding in its development necessarily arrives at the
   idea of God, and there ends, that is, precisely at the point where
   theological speculation begins, then, in fact, speculation may, from
   this idea of God as obtained in a purely scientific manner, simply
   advance further, so that consequently we now have a theological
   speculation resting not upon a fortuitous and empirical presupposition,
   but upon a scientific result,--to which the one assumed by Rothe bears
   only a relation of premature over-haste. The entire distinction between
   theological and philosophical speculation, we must consequently declare
   as scientifically unfounded; and we cannot, with Rothe, look upon the
   difference between philosophical and theological ethics as the
   difference between a speculation without presuppositions and a
   speculation with presuppositions, but only as the difference between a
   speculative and a non-speculative ethics, or an ethics resting
   essentially on history. Purely philosophical ethics knows nothing of
   Christ, of redemption, nor even of sin as a reality, and hence cannot
   possibly answer the full idea of a Christian ethics, although it may
   and should, in that which it is competent to embrace, be of a very
   Christian character: and as the entire moral life of the Christian
   rests upon redemption and spiritual regeneration, hence there is not a
   single point in this life, where at purely philosophical ethics could
   suffice. Hence the view of Schleiermacher, that Christian and
   philosophical ethics are of exactly of the same compass, we must regard
   as incorrect. [16] In his Philosophical Ethics he himself expressly
   declares that the notion of evil has no place in it, but is only
   obtained from the experience of real life; but in Christian ethics this
   notion is an essentially co-determining element of the whole. [17]

   Theological and philosophical ethics do not mutually exclude each
   other, but stand in intimate connection, and may go hand in hand; we
   must admit both of them, each in its own field, and each with the task
   of combining the other as much as possible in itself. But for each of
   the two manners of treatment, we must lay claim to universal validity.
   Whether we have recognized a truth philosophically or theologically, we
   regard this much as settled, that it is a truth not merely for us
   Protestant or Roman Christians, but for all men who seek truth at all;
   and those who do not admit it, we can regard only as in error. This is
   not intolerance, but simple fidelity to the truth; every truth is, in
   this sense, intolerant,--claims the right to be accepted of all men.

   Ethics is frequently so treated that philosophical ethics, as pure,
   precedes, and Christian ethics as applied ethics, follows. This is not
   correct; Christian ethics is not a mere application of philosophical,
   but has, in so far as it rests on history, an essentially other
   character, and other ground-thoughts peculiar to itself.--We purpose
   here to present a System of Christian ethics, which, for the reason
   that it is to embrace all the phases of the Christianly-moral, must be
   essentially theological; but in the inner organizing and in the
   developing of the ground-thoughts, philosophical considerations must
   furnish the deeper scientific foundation.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [14] Christl. Sitte, p. 24.

   [15] Moral, p. 19.

   [16] Christ. Sitte, Beil, p. 4.

   [17] Ibid., pp. 35, 36.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

III. HISTORY OF ETHICS AND OF THE MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS IN GENERAL.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION V.

   CHRISTIAN ethics cannot be understood without its history, nor the
   latter without the history of the systems lying anterior to and outside
   of Christianity. But the history of ethics presupposes a knowledge of
   the historical development of the moral consciousness in general,
   whereof ethics proper is simply the scientific fruit.

   The mistakes committed in a large portion of the field of more recent
   ethics, spring largely from non-attention to the history of this
   science; and yet no other theological science has so long and rich a
   history, and so many relations to the history of the human mind
   anterior to and outside of Christianity, as, in fact, this very one;
   Greek philosophy has had, upon the development of Christian ethics, a
   wide-reaching influence. But the history of ethics cannot be separated
   from the history of the moral spirit in general, out of which ethics
   sprang, and of which it is simply the scientific form; also the moral
   consciousness itself has a history, the knowledge of which is of much
   higher importance than that of the history of mere ethics. Not every
   moral consciousness has produced an ethical system, for only the more
   gifted nations have risen to science at all, and ethics is one of the
   most difficult; but the moral consciousness of a people, even though
   not developed into a scientific form, is to be looked upon as the
   historical basis for another higher and ultimately scientific national
   consciousness. Even as botany considers the germination and foliation
   no less than the blossoms and fruit,--as the history of religious
   doctrines presupposes the history of the religious life, as the history
   of philosophy presupposes and develops further the history of
   civilization,--so also the history of ethics cannot be given without,
   at the same time, taking into consideration the history of the moral
   consciousness itself; the ethical thoughts of Plato and Aristotle are
   not to be understood merely from themselves, but largely only in the
   light of the moral spirit of the Greeks in general.

   The history of ethics itself, though frequently touched upon, has not
   as yet' been sufficiently presented. The most complete work is that of
   Stäudlin: "History of the Ethics of Jesus," 1799-1823, 4 vols., of
   which the work, "History of Christian Morals since the Revival of the
   Sciences," which appeared as early as 1808, is to be regarded as a
   continuation; and to it is to be added the same author's "History of
   Moral Philosophy," 1822 (and, as a short compendium, the "History of
   Philosophical, Hebrew, and Christian Ethics," 1816). The rich body of
   matter scattered through these works, is much diluted and not always
   reliable, and is constructed into no vital unity. The superficial
   Rationalistic stand-point precludes a proper understanding whether of
   philosophical or of theological ethics. It is stated as a high merit of
   the ethics of Jesus, that, in it, are combined the "better elements of
   the Platonic and Stoic systems;" the portraiture of the "wise Teacher"
   of morals, Jesus, is about as insipid as well possible. Rousseau's
   "excellent" moral discussions are lauded to the skies, while Luther is
   treated as a person of narrow prejudice; the doctrine of the
   inspiration of the Scriptures is repeatedly declared as dangerous to
   morality. The "History of Moral Philosophy" and several minor treatises
   on the history of special ethical subjects (the oath, marriage, the
   conscience) are very superficial and inaccurate.

   De Wette wrote a "Christian Ethics," 1819; (more briefly presented in
   his "Compendium of Christian Ethics," 1833, in which the history of
   ethics constitutes far more than half of the whole book; the first
   work, because of the negligent printing, is almost useless for
   unprofessional persons, and is very dependent on Stäudlin, even to his
   typographical errors, though in particular parts surpassing
   him).--(Meiner's "History of Ethics," 1800, utterly worthless.
   Marheineke's "History of Christian Ethics," etc., 1806,--only a
   fragment.) E. Feuerlein's "Ethics of Christianity in its Historical
   Chief-Forms," 1855, furnishes only unequal and often unclear or
   inadequate outlines; the same author published a "Philosophical Ethics
   in its Historical Chief-Forms," 1856-59. Neander's "History of
   Christian Ethics," 1864, enters also upon Greek ethics, though here
   from a somewhat antiquated stand-point, and is somewhat ununiform,
   breaking off the historical development by an unhappy classification,
   and furnishing rather single- points than a connected presentation.
     __________________________________________________________________

  A.--MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS AND ETHICS OF HEATHEN NATIONS.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION VI.

   The most of historical heathen nations have indeed collections of
   ethical life-rules, based almost always upon religion, but before the
   golden age of Greek philosophy they had no ethics proper.--The
   ground-character of all heathen ethical consciousness and of heathen
   ethics is, that the starting-point and the goal of the moral is not an
   infinite spirit, but either the impersonal nature-entity, or a merely
   individually-personal being. The starting-point is not the infinite
   God, and the goal is not the perfection of the moral personality in a
   kingdom of God as resting upon the moral perfection of the individual
   person, and in the communion of the person with the infinite
   personality of God, but it is always merely a limited
   something,--either a merely earthly civic perfection with the rejection
   of a trans-mundane goal (the Chinese), or the giving-up of personal
   existence altogether (the Indians), or a merely individual perfection
   irrespective of the idea of a kingdom of God embracing the individual
   personality as a vital member (the Egyptians, Persians, Greeks, and
   Germans).--There is throughout a lack of the knowledge of true moral
   freedom; either it is rejected on principle, or it is ascribed only to
   a few specially-gifted ones, while the rest of mankind are, as
   barbarians, incapable of any moral freedom and perfection. Hence there
   is, further, a general lack of a knowledge of humanity as called, in
   its totality, to the accomplishing of a moral task. It is uniformly
   only one people, or an aristocratic class of a people, that is morally
   active; the slave is incapable of true morality. But where humanity
   itself is regarded as called to morality--with the Buddhists--there the
   moral task is an essentially negating one,--is directed to the
   annihilating of personal existence. There is throughout a lack of the
   knowledge of the moral depravity of the natural man, and hence of the
   necessity of a spiritual new-birth; morality is not so much a struggle,
   as rather a simple development. There is indeed a consciousness of
   immoral conditions of humanity, yea, of a natural unaptness for the
   good; but these conditions are almost always attributed to mere civic
   and individual degeneracy, and this unaptness is confined to barbarians
   and slaves. And the idea of the highest good is embraced either merely
   negatively, or is referred to earthly weal, or is left entirely in
   doubt,--at best is sought in merely individual perfection.

   The heathen moral consciousness can be understood, evidently, only in
   the light of the religious consciousness upon which it always rests.
   That, of the majority of heathen nations, we possess only
   loosely-connected moral precepts and observations, moral adages and
   practical life-rules, but not ethical systems proper, is no obstacle to
   our knowledge of their moral consciousness, inasmuch as systems always
   bear in fact traces of the subjective character of their authors,
   whereas, the popular collections in question, based, for the most part,
   on divine authority, are an objective unclouded expression of the
   consciousness dominant in a people.

   It is the essence of heathenism to possess the idea of God only under
   some form of limitation, to conceive of God as a being in some degree
   limited; [18] and to this corresponds also the moral consciousness.
   Where God is conceived of as an unspiritual nature-being, there
   morality bears essentially the character of un-freedom, as it were of
   impersonality,--is either a mechanical adapting of self to universal
   nature, an absolutely goal-less passive subordinating of self to the
   ever-uniform unchangeable order of the world (China), or a
   subordinating of the personal human spirit to the divine being
   conceived of as nature, with which the free personality is in essential
   contradiction (India). Where God, however, is conceived of as a limited
   individual spirit, and then consequentially as plurality, there the
   personal human spirit stands not in perfect moral dependence upon Him,
   but is relatively co-ordinate with Him,--has not God's will as its
   unconditional law; the foundation of the moral becomes predominantly
   subjective and unsettled; the self-love and the self-seeking pride of
   the strong subject appears as the legitimate chief-motive of the moral
   life (West-Asia and Europe).

   With the prevalence of such views the goal of moral effort, the highest
   good, can also be embraced only as a limited something. Among the
   naturalistic nations, the Chinese and the Indians, this goal has no
   positive contents at all, for the personal spirit as placed under the
   dominion of an impersonal nature-power cannot aim to attain to any
   thing positive which did not already exist; its goal can only be the
   greatest possible self-denial of the personal spirit as over against
   nature. In China the moral spirit can attain to nothing which has not
   already always existed by nature and hence with necessity; it behooves
   not to create a spiritual, moral kingdom, but to uphold the eternal
   kingdom of necessarily-determined order as already existing by nature
   without any personal act,--to subordinate to, and keep in passive
   harmony with, it, one's own worthless individual existence.--In India,
   with the Brahmins as well as with the Buddhists, where the
   consciousness of the personal spirit has awakened to a much higher
   validity, moral effort assumes a truly tragic character, in that the
   total, violent contradiction of the personal spirit to the
   personality-overwhelming divine nature-entity comes to consciousness.
   The ultimate goal of the moral spirit is here not only not a positive
   entity, nor indeed even the upholding of an eternally-uniform
   world-order, but the passing away of personal existence into the
   general indeterminate nature-existence; the highest good is complete
   self-annihilation through moral effort.--With the Occidental
   Indo-Germanic nations the personal spirit is indeed no longer merged
   into the impersonal nature-existence, for the divine is itself
   conceived of as personality. But because of the merely limited
   individuality of the divine,--which rises to the height of an infinite
   personal spirit only in the last results of philosophy, not recognized
   by the masses of the people,--the certainty of the moral goal falls
   away also. The personal spirit looks not to cease to be, to vanish in
   the mechanical whirl-din of the great world-machine, as in China, nor
   to melt away into the incomprehensible and ineffable proto-Brahma or
   nirvana as in India, on the contrary, it looks to attain to a positive
   result, but it finds therefor no assured, firm footing; and, as in this
   life the moral hero sinks tragically under the envious disfavor of the
   gods or of fate, so also is the lot he has earned in the next world of
   an entirely doubtful character; Achilles would fain exchange his lot in
   the lower world for the position of a servant upon earth, and Socrates
   is not fully confident whether for his philosophical virtue he will
   attain to the enjoyment of converse with the great dead. At best,
   doubting hope looks only to a merely individual wellbeing, and the idea
   of a real kingdom of God, which has its roots in the earthly life of
   moral man, and its crown in a transmundane perfection, and of which the
   essence is the history of humanity, remains unknown even to the most
   highly enlightened heathendom.

   The moral freedom of the person is indeed actually denied only by a few
   of the more consequential philosophers of India, but yet it is nowhere
   recognized in its full truth. With the Chinese, it is smothered under
   the weight of all-dictating State-law; with the Brahminic Indians a
   radical Pantheism admits only for the less-clearly and less-logically
   thinking casses of the masses, a very limited form of freedom; but to
   the more educated consciousness all initiatorily-active freedom appears
   as illegitimate, as per se sinful, or, more consequentially still, as
   mere appearance. Impersonal Brahma is the solely real existence, and
   all individuality is but an absolutely dependent, immediate
   manifestation-form of this One, utterly devoid of free
   self-determination.--The Greek even in the highest philosophy, far
   beyond the limits of the national consciousness, concedes free moral
   self-determination not to man as man, but only to the free Greek; the
   barbarian has only a half-humanity, is utterly incapable of true
   virtue, and is not called to free service under the moral idea, but
   only to an unfree service under the free Greek. Even Aristotle knows
   nothing of a general morality for all men.

   One of the most hampering limits of heathen morality, is its total lack
   of the idea of humanity. The religion of the Buddhists,--the sole one
   which transcends the limits of nationality, and even in many respects
   approximates Christian views,--has indeed conceived the thought of
   humanity as equally called in all its representatives to truth and
   morality, and has sent out missions beyond its national boundaries, but
   it has done this only because, religiously and morally, it bears a
   predominantly negating character; in the consciousness of the nullity
   of all being, fall away also, as null, the limits between nations; but
   this morality aims not to build up a spiritual kingdom of moral
   reality, but, on the contrary, to liberate the moral spirit from all
   reality as being per se null,--even from its own personal existence.

   The consciousness of a guiltily-incurred moral depravity of unredeemed
   humanity, which gives to Christian morality a so deeply earnest
   back-ground, finds in heathendom but faint and even delusory echoes. To
   the Chinese all reality is good; the sea of life is mirror-smooth, at
   worst, is but superficially disturbed by light waves which the shortest
   calm suffices to settle again. To the Indian all existence is equally
   good and equally evil,--equally good, in that all reality is the divine
   existence itself,--equally evil, in that it is at the same time an
   untrue and an illegitimate self-alienation of the solely-existing
   Brahma, or, with the Buddhists, an expression of absolute nullity. The
   guilt lies not on man, but on God and on existence in general; man
   suffers from the untruthfulness of reality, but has not himself
   guiltily occasioned it.--The Persian conceives of evil in the world
   much more earnestly and with higher moral truthfulness. Humanity is
   really morally corrupted, and is so because of a moral guilt, because
   of a fall from the good; and man has the task of morally battling
   against the evil and for the good. But this fall lies yon-side of human
   action and of human guilt,--lies in the sphere of the divine itself.
   Not the rational creature, not man, has guiltily fallen, but a god; the
   divine is itself hostilely dualistic,--the good god is from the
   beginning opposed by the guilty evil one, and the real world-not merely
   the moral one, but also nature--is the work of two mutually
   morally-opposing divine creative powers. In this--no longer
   naturalistic, but moral--dualism there lies a much higher truth than in
   the Indian doctrine of unity, according to which the distinction of the
   world from God is explained away into a mere appearance, into a
   self-deception, either of Brahma, or, and more consequentially, of man;
   and man has, in the Persian view, a much higher personal moral task.
   But in that this view throws the weight of the guilt from man and upon
   the divinity, the moral struggle lacks, after all, its true ground and
   truth.--With the Greek even this (in its principal nerve paralyzed)
   earnestness of the Persian is thrown into the shade by the, in other
   respects, higher theory of an inner harmony of existence. That which in
   the Christian world-view is the moral goal, is conceived here as the
   essence indestructibly inherent in reality, so that the moral activity
   has only to develop the per se essentially faultless germ of the
   spiritual essence of man, in order to attain to the highest good. Of a
   positive struggle against a potent reality of evil in man, even the
   most enlightened philosophers have no consciousness; and whatever
   reality of such an evil in existence forces itself upon the sound
   feelings and judgment, is sought for, by the intensified
   self-complacence of the most highly-cultivated Greeks, not in the moral
   essence proper of man, but yon-side of man in the world of the gods,
   which world appears itself in the morally better-feeling poets as
   morally tarnished, as an object of just censure,--or yon-side of the
   god-world in irrationally dominating fate,--or in the extra-Greek world
   of mankind, which, as barbarous, is also involved in moral
   degradation.--By far the highest view of the moral and of guilt,
   appears among the ancient Germanic nations, the world-view of whom was
   indeed more fully developed only in Christian times, and not unaffected
   by Christian influences.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [18] See the author's Gesch. d. Heidentums, 1, § 11 sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION VII.

   The obscured and only very partially developed moral consciousness of
   savage nations lies outside of the field of history; [19] the more
   tender consciousness of the half-civilized nations, especially of the
   Peruvians and Mexicans--the former of whom especially developed social
   morality to a degree of one-sided maturity, [20] --appears rather as
   potent custom than as a clearly self-conscious consciousness. The very
   definitely and detailedly developed moral consciousness of the Chinese,
   as expressed in numerous and in part sacred-esteemed writings, is
   devoid of higher ideas, and is rather merely soberly empirical, purely
   political, and directed predominantly only to outward purposes. The
   essence of this morality is an effortless conformance to an
   eternally-changeless world-order, a remaining in the just
   middle-course; there is no consciousness of a forfeited perfection of
   the human race, nor of a perfection yet morally to be attained to.
   There is pre-supposed the unclouded goodness of human nature, the
   entire agreement of the ideal and of reality. There is no call for a
   sanctifying of an unholy reality,--there needs only that the individual
   existence of man be modeled upon pure human patterns, and conformed to
   never entirely erroneous, and always uniform common custom. The bright
   point in Chinese morality is obedience, in the family and in the State;
   its ground-character is passive persistence in the constantly
   homogeneous, goal-less movement of the universe,--a steady pulse-beat
   the significance of which lies not in the goal, but in the movement
   itself.

   The Chinese, whose religious views constitute a barren and tale, but
   clear and consequential Naturalism, have special interest for moral
   life-rules; the ancient books of their religion, the Kings, which were
   collected and digested by Confucius in the sixth century before Christ,
   contain in the main simply a very detailed system of morals; so also
   nearly all their later religious, philosophical, and historical
   writings.

   The life of the All bears every-where, even in its spiritual phase, a
   nature-character; there is no history with a spiritual goal to be
   attained to by moral activity, but only a nature-course with a
   constantly uniform character manifesting itself in constant, unvaried
   repetition; morality looks not forward, but simply backward to that
   which has been and will always remain as it is, and all reformatory
   action upon an occasionally somewhat deteriorated present is but a mere
   return to, the previous better. Instead of progress the goal of moral
   effort is uniformly simply a conserving, or a return to the past. There
   is no ideal yet to be reached, but the ideal has already always
   existed, and has never suffered but slight becloudings; humanity is
   already perfect from the very beginning, without history and without
   development; morality never looks to the creating of something which
   has not already been,--at best aims only at remedying a slight but
   never deeply seated disorder. Good is not that which in the nature of
   things ought first to become, but that which already is from the
   beginning; the highest good is not a goal and end, but it is that
   itself which eternally is; man has and enjoys it as already given from
   the start; it is the Paradise into which he is placed by nature
   herself, and which he has never really lost,--at the worst, only a few
   thorns and thistles have insinuated themselves into it, which however
   can only render the Paradisaical life of the "Celestial Kingdom" only a
   little more incommodious, for man, but not by any means banish him out
   of it, and in fact are very readily to be got rid of. The stream of
   world-history flows on of itself without the co-operation of man; man
   has simply to yield himself to it, to adapt himself unresistingly to
   the eternally-unvarying order of the world, to join himself, as a
   passively revolved wheel, into the constantly uniform-moving
   clock-work. Hence morality has no high goal, but requires only repose
   and order, and a passive submission to the minutely-tutorial civil law
   and to the equally valid laws of custom; there is no violent struggle,
   but only a quiet persisting and laboring. The highest symbol of
   morality is the natural sky, with its eternally-unvarying orderly
   revolution. As the real world is the mutual interpenetration of the two
   primitive principles, heaven and earth, and the equilibrium and mean
   between the two, so consists also morality in the preserving of
   equilibrium, in the observing of the just mean; the middle way is
   always the best. Hence ethics is by no means rigid and severe,--aims
   not at high reality-transcending ideals, is of a mild gentle nature,
   sober, practical, temperate, without high inspiration; it requires of
   man scarcely any thing which could be difficult to him, or which would
   involve much self-denial; he is not required to divest himself of his
   natural character, but has only to observe measure in all things. Man,
   that is, of course, only the Chinaman, is consequently already
   capacitated by nature to fulfill perfectly all the requirements of
   morality, and there are in fact also absolutely perfect, sinless men.
   Virtue is of easy practice, for it is the natural expression of the
   soul-life, and has not to contend against any evil rooted in the heart,
   and it meets in fact with no actual hostility to itself in the world;
   it awakens not displeasure, but always love, esteem, and honor; for
   mankind is in fact generally and, as a whole, good; actual evil is
   always a mere exception; the gate is wide, and the way is broad which
   leads to life, and many are those who walk upon it.

   As being a mere expression of general, natural world-order, morality
   stands in direct connection with the course of nature. The observance
   of the just mean preserves equilibrium in the All, and every
   disturbance of this equilibrium by sin re-echoes through the whole, and
   effects, directly, disturbances in nature, especially when the
   offending one is the vicegerent of heaven, the emperor,--who is called
   by his very office to the presenting of a moral ideal, of a pattern of
   virtue. Drought, famine, inundations, pestilence, and the like, are not
   so much positively inflicted punishments of a personally-ruling God, as
   rather direct natural consequences of the sins of the emperor, and of
   the people as imitating him. Instead of an historical connection and an
   historical working of sin upon coming generations, as in the Christian
   world-theory, there is here a natural connection and a natural working
   of sin upon contemporary nature and the contemporary generation. This
   naturalistic parallel to the Christian doctrine of inherited sin, has a
   deeply earnest significancy. Man in his moral activity has to do not
   merely with himself, but with the totality of the universe; by sinning,
   he disturbs the order and the harmony of existence in general; every
   sin is an outrage against the All, and consequently also against the
   highest manifestation thereof, namely, the Middle Kingdom; all sins are
   crimes, all are hurtful to the public weal; in the Chinese view nature
   suffers by sin; in the Christian, history.

   The focus of the moral life is the family; in it manifests itself
   directly the divine life,--which consists in the antithesis of the male
   or active and of the female or passive, in heaven-force and
   earth-material, and in the union of the two. The family life is a
   living worship of God, and the family duties are the highest, and have
   the unconditional precedence of all others; to the obedience of
   children to parents all other obedience must give way. What heaven is
   for the world, that the father is for the children, and reverence
   toward parents is a religious virtue. Hence marriage is a moral duty
   from which no virtuous man can excuse himself; the celibate interrupts
   the ranks of the famnily and commits an outrage on his ancestors.

   But the full realization of morality appears in the state, which is
   simply the all-sidedly developed family. The emperor, as the son and
   vicegerent of heaven not governing arbitrarily but by eternally valid
   heavenly laws, is the father and teacher of the people,--not merely
   protecting right, but also, as a pattern of virtue, guiding and
   conserving the morality of the people. In China every thing is the
   State, and the State is everything; it is the great ocean into which
   all the streams of the spirit-life ultimate, and morality itself stands
   absolutely under the guardianship of the State. Not as man, but only as
   a citizen of the State and a member of the family, has the Chinaman a
   moral life; all morality is accomplished by obedience to the laws of
   the State; and between civil and moral law there is no distinction.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [19] Gesch. des Heident., i, p. 40 sqq., p. 163 sqq.

   [20] Ibid., 251 sqq., 303 sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION VIII.

   The Indians, the Brahminic as also the Buddhistic, conceived morality,
   on the basis of their consequentially developed Pantheism, essentially
   negatively. All finite reality, and above all, that of the human
   personality, is null, untrue, and illegitimate,--either because, with
   the Brahmins, it is only the self-estranged divinity, or because, with
   the Buddhists, the essence of all existence in general is nihility;
   hence the ground-character of morality is self-denial,
   world-renunciation,--a passive endurance instead of creative activity.
   The moral goal, the highest good, is not a personal possession, but a
   surrendering of personality to the impersonal divine essence or to
   nihility. There is no realizing and no shaping of a moral kingdom based
   on personality, nor even a preserving of existing reality, but a
   dissolving of the same. All reality, in so far as it is a finite
   formation, is evil,--not, however, through the guilt of man, but in
   virtue of its very essence from the beginning; and there is no other
   redemption than its annihilation. But while, in the purely Pantheistic
   doctrine of the Brahmins, the thought of the development of the world
   out of God recognizes in fact in existence a divine and hence
   relatively good substratum, and regards mankind as emanated from God,
   as participant in this divine substance in different degrees, according
   as they stand at different distances from the divine
   proto-fountain,--the distinctions of caste,--on the other hand, the
   doctrine of the Buddhists annihilates, together with the divine
   proto-Brahma, also these concentric circles around the ungodded
   middle-point, and requires equal, absolutely world-renouncing morality
   of all men, even irrespective of the limits of nationality, and changes
   the positive self-torture, which appears among the Brahmins as the acme
   of pious morality, into a quietistic, self-denying patience resting
   upon hopeless grief at the nihility of all existence.

   The Brahminic Indians have, in their books of law, ancient and rich
   collections of moral doctrines. Almost equally esteemed with the Vedas,
   and attributed to a divine origin, is the book of the Laws of Manu, the
   parts of which belong to very different ages, though the most recent
   belong certainly anterior to the fourth century before Christ; the
   moral precepts proper are as yet unseparated from the religious and
   civil. Also the Vedas and the later philosophical and legal writings
   contain much moral matter.

   Basing himself, in contrast to the nature-dualism of the Chinese, upon
   the unity of the universe as divine, the Brahmin regards the real World
   merely as a, neither necessary nor strictly legitimate, but rather mere
   dream-like self-alienation of primitive Brahma, which is destined,
   after an essentially purposeless continuance, to be absorbed back into
   its source. Hence morality has no positive aim, but rather simply looks
   to an escaping from individual existence, a dissolving of personality
   into the impersonal. The continuance of personality through
   metempsychosis is punishment, not reward. Existing reality is not, as
   in China, good as such, but, as separate existence, is evil, and is
   good only in its general divine substance; only the latter, but not the
   former, may be held fast to. The moral subject is not manc as such;
   there is in fact no unitary humanity, but only different, narrower or
   wider, circles around the divine middle-point, classes of men differing
   essentially by nature both spiritually and morally, and of whom the
   lowest stand even below many brutes, and are absolutely incapable of
   the moral life; to teach to these latter the Vedas or the Laws, is a
   crime worthy of the deepest damnation. Only the three highest castes
   are capable of a knowledge of the truth, and hence also of morality.
   But also with these the moral duties and capacities are very different,
   and the Indian speaks not of the moral duties of man, but always only
   of the duties of the castes. The vaiçja's highest good is riches; his
   virtue, industrious acquiring; the xatrija's highest good is power, and
   his highest virtue, courage; and only the Brahmin is capable of the
   highest morality; but this morality directs itself, not transformingly
   and productively, upon reality, but only, disdainingly and
   renouncingly, away from the same,--not, however, in order to virtualize
   a free, self-conscious personality as over against nature, but in order
   to merge back the personal spirit, as illegitimate, into the impersonal
   essence of the universe. The highest virtue is renunciation, not indeed
   merely of sensuous enjoyment, of earthly weal, but of one's own
   self-conscious personality; and the acme of this morality is,
   consequently, self-annihilation as sought through persistent
   self-torture, to the end that Brahma alone may exist. The highest good
   of the true man, that is, of the Brahmin, is to become at one with
   Brahma, not in the sense of a moral life-communion of the personal
   spirit with a personal God, but as a dissolving of the per se
   illegitimate personal spirit into the general, the impersonal. That
   which is in the present state the sum and substance of all wisdom,
   namely, to know that "I am Brahma," attains to full truth by the
   dissolving of the ego into Brahma; the goal of morality is, "Brahma
   alone is, not I;" and as man, even now, while in deepest
   sleep,--wherein he knows nothing of the world and of himself,--is
   nearer to divinity than when in his waking hours, so the goal of virtue
   is the total falling to sleep of the personal spirit, the exhaling of
   the dew-drop that trembles on the lotus-leaf. The holding fast to
   personality is the essence of all evil. Nothing can nor should
   permanently endure but the divine essence alone, which tolerates
   nothing other than itself, and for which all reality of the world is,
   at best, only a dream-phantom, a transient hallucination;--even in the
   eyes of the deeper instructed of men, the world in general is only a
   false imagination of the foolish, and does not really exist at all. The
   Chinese aim, in morality, simply to conserve the already-existing; the
   higher nations aim at transforming it into a more spiritual reality;
   the Indians aim at dissolving it into nonentity. The West-Asiatic
   nations see the truth in the future, and long, hopefully, and through
   moral effort, for a better reality than is offered by the present; the
   Indians look sadly into the present, with indifference into the future,
   and with satisfaction only into the past, when as yet nothing else
   existed but unitary Brahma, and into that future which simply returns
   to the condition of this past. The Chinese work for the present; the
   higher nations, for the future; the Indians work not at all, but simply
   endure and perish; they aim not at implanting the free moral spirit
   into reality, but at tearing it away from the same,--not at
   transfiguring reality by the spirit, but at emancipating the spirit
   from the same. Indian morality is less a creative working than a
   sacrificing, and hence is essentially identical with the practice of
   religion, of which the highest phase is self-mortfication--aiming at a
   total annihilation of personal existence. The way which the world has
   traveled out from primitive Brahma, this way it must travel back again;
   nature herself accomplishes this by death; man accomplishes it by
   morally-pious self-annihilation. That which is with nature the natural
   goal, is with man a moral end. Even as Brahma developed himself out of
   his pure transparent unity into the world of plurality, so must man
   fold himself back out of his isolated existence again into unity; man,
   the highest fruit of mundane existence, must gather himself out of the
   dispersion of Brahma in the world, back into unity,--must give up his
   separate existence. Man must die away, not indeed to sin, or merely to
   sensuousness, but to himself,--must cease to be a real personality,
   must renounce every feeling, every volition, every thought, which
   contains any thing whatever other than Brahma alone. The fearful
   self-tortures of the Indians are not penance for sins, but the highest
   virtue-exercises of saints. A vital consciousness of guilt, the Indian
   is utterly devoid of; the evil of existence is not his own, is not the
   fault of man in general. Whatever is and transpires, is directly
   Brahma's act. It is true, evil inheres by nature in all existence, but
   it is not to be imputed to man, and there is no other redemption from
   the same than the destruction of the finite, even of one's own being.
   The entire scope of morality bears a negating character; the truly
   knowing one needs not merely not to do any positive works, but he
   avoids them from principle, because they belong simply to the realm of
   folly.

   For man, even in so far as he is an object of the moral activity, the
   Indian has no concern; he has a higher love for nature, which stands
   nearer related to the nature-divinity, and constitutes the narrowest
   circle around the divine center-point. In nature he beholds his mother,
   and he loves it reverently as the most direct and most unclouded
   revelation of Brahma. The same Indian who can heartlessly see a pariah
   famish without so much as stretching out to him a helping hand,
   reverently avoids, as a severe sin, the breaking of a grass-blade, or
   the swallowing of a gnat; a Brahmin allows himself not, without ground,
   to break even an earth-clod.--Marriage and the family-life in general
   can only be a transition-stage for the, as yet, morally immature. The
   Brahmin who has risen to true knowledge must leave father and mother,
   wife and child, and, dead to the world and to himself, live henceforth
   only in solitary contemplation of Brahma,--standing for years, in the
   forest, upon the same spot, emotionless as a tree-trunk, and seeking or
   accepting only the scantiest food; every thing finite must have become
   absolutely indifferent to him, until, vegetating on like a plant, and
   fading away, he attains to the long-sought death. For society and
   politics, only those who belong to the inferior castes can have any
   further interest,--for the Brahmin himself these things have no
   attraction, and, higher than the warrior-hero and than the
   zealously-ruling prince, is he who exchanges a crown for the life of
   the hermit.

   More remarkable still is the moral consciousness of the Buddhists,
   whose world-historical and influential religion--an off-shoot of the
   Brahminic--was founded by the Indian prince Sakya-Muni in the sixth
   century before Christ,--the sole heathen religion which sent out
   missions beyond the national limits,--so that within a few centuries it
   extended itself throughout all middle, southern, and eastern Asia, as
   far as into Japan. The sacred books of the Buddhists are chiefly of
   moral contents, for here religion passes over almost entirely into
   morality.

   While in Brahminism the ground and essence of all existence is the one
   absolutely indeterminate and un-positive proto-Brahma, Buddhism goes a
   step further, and declares this indeterminate, empty substratum to be
   nonentity itself. All things are sprung of nonentity; hence nonentity
   is the contents of all being,--hence all reality is per se null, and
   finds its truth only in that it returns to nothing. As the beginning,
   so is also the end of all being, and hence also that of man and of his
   moral efforts, nonentity. Every thing is vain, in heaven and upon
   earth; heaven and earth themselves are vain, and upon the ruins of a
   crumbling world sits, eternally enthroned, empty Naught. The moral
   element of this atheistical religion lies in the fact that the Buddhist
   is really and truly in earnest with the comfortless thought, and,--in
   striking contrast to the lustful, pleasure-seeking atheism of modern
   times,--presents to man the God-forsaken world as in fact really such,
   and forbids to him all enjoyment of the same,--that he has no joy in
   it, but makes deep grief at all existence the foundation of all
   morality. The Buddhist is fully conscious of what it signifies to place
   nature above spirit, to seek God only in nature and in the world in
   general. Not being able to rise to the conception of a personal God, he
   disdains the impersonal nature-God, and chooses rather to live without
   God in the world,--only, however, as one who has no hope at all.
   Buddhism in its pure form is a religion of despair, and its ethics
   answers to this character, and is essentially different from the
   Brahminic. Here no divine proto-Brahma unfolds himself into a world;
   and hence the different castes of mankind have no longer any essential
   meaning; no one man stands, by nature, nearer to the divinity than
   another, but all men are equal; there is no plant-like branching-out of
   a divine proto-germ, but only a homogeneous sea of equally-worthless
   sand-grains. With the Brahmin moral freedom is essentially trammeled,
   and in fact, consequentially regarded, annihilated, by the fact that
   Brahma alone works all and in all; but for the Buddhist no such
   limitation exists. No divinity forcibly interferes with human action.
   Moral effort, however, has no reality, as a highest good, for its goal;
   the ultimate goal is annihilation, and this thought is here much more
   deeply and sadly embraced than with the Brahmins. While with the
   Brahmins, man and the entire world sink back into the divine essence,
   with the Buddhists they fall into utter annihilation; and the goal of
   all life and effort is a traceless extinguishment--nirvana. The
   Buddhist strives not; he only patiently endures the pain of inner
   nothingness, that falls to the lot of all living existence. The entire
   history of the world is but one grand tragedy; in deep pain worries on
   all that lives, until it succumbs to death, and the consciousness of
   this pain is the beginning and the end of all wisdom. In comparison
   with this acme of all wisdom, namely, the knowledge of the four-fold
   misery inherent in the world, that is, birth, old age, disease, and
   death, all other questions lose their importance. All reality is vain
   and irrational; this is the basis of all morality. Hence, man should
   break loose from all love to real existence,--should renounce all
   earthly pleasure; the only feeling that beseems the sage is that of
   pain and compassion. For a positive moral acting, aiming at the
   production of a reality, there is here no place; man strives only to
   urge his way out of this world of pain, for misery is the essence of
   the world, and all moral wisdom consists in the greatest possible
   breaking away from all liking for the same. In the God-void world, man
   feels homeless,--finds therein no rest and no satisfaction; his future
   is annihilation; his present, the renouncing of all joy. The
   world-renunciation of the Brahmin is rather active and manly, for by
   the throwing off of his finite existence he returns into Brahma. The
   world-renunciation of the Buddhist is rather passive and womanly,--does
   not rise to positive self-torture and to real self-destruction; on the
   contrary, the Buddhist waits, still and patient,--supports the misery
   of life in unmurmuring pain, until his existence falls away; the
   characteristic of this world-theory is a quiet, gentle grief, for the
   thought of the empty nothingness of all things cannot inspire to manly
   action; and the pain of existence should not be additionally heightened
   by voluntary act. Man is simply to disdain the world,--not because he
   compares it with a better sinless one, but because evil and misery are
   inseparable from it. Separated from all the world, and as a homeless
   wanderer, or as a hermit in forest or desert, the pious man should live
   in beggar-garb, devoid of adornment, utterly possessionless, entirely
   isolated, indifferent to joy and grief, and dead to all emotions.
   Marriage, as productive of new existence, is per se of evil, and is
   absolutely forbidden to the saint; the family bonds have no
   significancy for him, and sensuous enjoyment is in his eyes a pure
   folly. The most ancient and pure doctrine of Buddhism requires such
   renunciation of all men, and it is only a deteriorated form of later
   times that conceded that all did not need to lead this spiritual life,
   but that a portion of the people might content themselves with an
   inferior severity.

   Buddhistic ethics contains but few positive precepts; almost all of
   them are negative; virtue consists essentially in omitting; "thou shalt
   not," is the almost unvarying beginning of the precepts; all of them
   aim simply at preventing the spirit from taking delight in
   existence,--forbid worldly pleasure, but do not create a moral reality;
   and, as relating to other living creatures, beast as well as man, they
   guard against all multiplication of the already so widely-prevalent
   misery. Hence there goes here, hand in hand, with the intensest
   world-despising, the greatest gentleness toward all living beings; no
   creature may be tormented, nor even slaughtered; in order to alleviate
   the pain of another creature, man should rather himself endure it.
   Hence the Buddhists have been, in fact, the gentlest of heathen
   nations; but their gentleness is not so much an expression of active
   love as rather merely of compassion,--is simply a non-interfering, a
   sparing, but not a positive helping. The dumb, patient enduring of
   pain, a complete indifference to joy and sorrow, is not the heroic
   pride of a deeply self-conscious personality, but the womanly,
   submissive patience of a heart broken with pain.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION IX.

   The moral consciousness of the Egyptians and of the Semitic nations,
   especially of the Assyrians and Babylonians, is, as yet, only very
   imperfectly and partially known, so that a very definite characterizing
   of it is not yet possible. So much appears to be reliably ascertained,
   that among these nations (which constitute the transition from
   naturalistic East-Asia to the Occidental nations among whom the divine
   is conceived of as a personal spirit) both the moral bases and the
   essence of the moral subject and of the moral task, are conceived in a
   higher and more spiritual manner than was the case among the earlier
   nations,--in a manner which brings personality to a greater validity.
   The Pantheistico-naturalistic character of the religious and moral
   world-theory is overcome, and a morally dualistic one struggles more
   definitely into the fore-ground. Morality passes over from the mere
   preserving and persisting of the Chinese, and from the self-renouncing
   of the Indians, into a struggle against evil, as super-humanly
   originated, though not exclusively dominant, and as in fact ultimately
   to be overcome.

   Egypt stands on the dividing-line between the naturalistic and the
   personally-spiritual world-theory; the divine is indeed primarily and
   originally, as yet, a pure nature-power, but it struggles up into
   spiritual personality, and such a personality is recognized also in
   man; among the Semitic nations this consciousness comes into the
   fore-ground more prominently still. The presupposition of the moral is
   no longer the perfect and uniform goodness of existence, as with the
   Chinese, nor the essential evilness of the same, as with the Indians,
   but an inner moral antagonism of existence. Over against the
   personal-become good divinities, stands evil as a divine entity
   different from them, and which is primarily less spiritual, and
   expressive rather of mere nature character; and man in his moral
   struggle stands in the -midst of this antagonism,--has to determine
   himself for the divine good, and against the not less divine evil.
   Thus, in virtue of the contest of the antagonism dominant in the world,
   the moral subject becomes more nearly independent and free, than among
   the purely naturalistic nations; his moral task becomes, by far, more
   earnest and arduous,--calls far more emphatically for personal
   self-determination. Hence these nations have produced grander
   world-historical characters than the earlier ones,--have become
   world-historically militant nations. And the goal of the militant
   struggle is the ultimate victory of the good over the evil by the
   personal spirit, which is also itself not destined to be dissolved back
   into a general impersonal nature-existence, but, triumphing over mere
   nature, preserves its own personality.

   But this breaking-forth of the rational spirit and of its moral task
   into greater distinctness, manifests itself otherwise among the
   Egyptians than among the Semitic nations. It is among the Egyptians
   that the personal nature of the moral spirit comes first to full
   self-consciousness. The spirit is a something other than nature and
   higher than it,--is not destined to servitude under it, but to
   personal, free moral self-determination and to personal immortality,
   over against death-dominated nature. But this antithesis of the moral
   personal spirit to nature does not as yet rise, in the earthly life, to
   complete victory. Even as Osiris succumbs to the evil divinity, Typhon,
   so must man ultimately succumb in the struggle with unspiritual
   nature,--only, however, in order to attain in the yon-side to the full
   enjoyment of spiritual personality. The morning-twilight of the freedom
   of the rational spirit dawns in Egypt, but it is not as yet day. It is
   only through struggle, through suffering and dying, that the spirit
   becomes free,--in the world of the gods as well as in the world of man.
   Osiris becomes a true ruler only in the next world, and so with man
   also; only out of death spring forth life and victory. Also over the
   Egyptian's moral life a dusky vail is thrown, a melancholy breath
   poured out,--as with the Indians, though relieved by a brighter hope.
   To the Indian all moral life is but a rapidly passing meteor, vanishing
   away without trace; to the Egyptian it is a conflict, painful indeed,
   but resulting in an ultimate permanent victory of the moral person. Man
   has not as yet complete freedom and complete personal validity, but he
   will have them after death if he only struggles manfully here below;
   and he is conscious of entire personal responsibility for his life and
   his fortune after death. His personally-moral life falls not a prey to
   a universally-dominating nature-necessity, but to the personal decision
   of the first personal victor (Osiris) over nature and over death. By
   Osiris, the king of the yon-side world, where alone true life first
   begins, man's moral life is judged--weighed in the scales of
   righteousness. In personal communion with Osiris, the just man lives,
   happy thenceforth. Osiris, the highest representative of spiritual
   divinity, the forerunner and pledge of immortality, the firstborn among
   those who have died and are now living after death, is also the highest
   representative of Egyptian morality, the ground-character of which is,
   a persistent battling for righteousness. The ostrich-feather, the
   symbol of truth and righteousness, is one of the highest badges of
   honor.--But it is only in the next world that true righteousness is
   realized; here upon earth rule as yet, invincibly, the powers of evil.
   Hence the Egyptian, in contrast to the Chinese, turns all his love and
   his interest to the yon-side life. The dwellings of the living were for
   the most part paltry huts; the dwellings of the dead are monuments of
   the highest art and of an unparalleled zeal for labor; the tombs hewn
   out the rocks, and the pyramids intended for the sepulchers of kings,
   belong among the wonders of the ancient world, and bid defiance to the
   ravages of time. The present life is, as with the Indians, lightly
   esteemed, not, however, because of the nullity of all existence in
   general, but because it is contrasted with a higher life, which, as the
   highest good, is a richly promising moral goal. Reminders of death
   attend the Egyptian wherever he turns, and the mummies and the images
   of the dead were an eloquent memento mori even at his most convivial
   banquets. "The Egyptians," says Diodorus (i, 51), "regard the time of
   this life with very little esteem; the dwellings of life they designate
   as inns, but the graves as everlasting mansions."

   The heathen Semitic nations, especially the Assyrians and Babylonians,
   base themselves, in religion and morality, entirely on the ground of
   the subjective spirit, of the individual personality. The general unity
   of naturalism they have given up, but. they have not as yet risen to
   that of the infinite spirit. The spirit appears only in the
   multiplicity of single forms; hence these nations never appear in
   history as a unity, but always as a plurality. In religion as well as
   in morality there is manifested the reckless independence of the (now,
   for the first time, vigorously and mightily self-conscious) subjective
   spirit, from any and all unconditional objective authority, whether of
   nature or of spirit,--an untamedness and intractableness of the strong
   individual will, daring deeds, but also a violent wildness of the
   unbent will and of the passions,--a highly excited turmoil-without goal
   or purpose. Man, as a personal individual, comes into the fore-ground
   as possessed of paramount rights. Morality is devoid of any certain
   basis and rule; the strong individual will breaks through all barriers.
   It is the era of great heroes, and of great tyrants and
   God-despisers,--from Nimrod who began to be a mighty one upon earth, a
   mighty hunter before Jehovah (Gen. x, 8), to Nebuchadnezzar, who
   daringly exalted himself against God. The moral consciousness, as
   bewildered by an over-intense self-consciousness, manifests
   predominantly a defiance on the part of this strongly egotistical
   subject against all objective power, even against God; cruelty and
   coarse sensuousness characterize even the rites of religion, and hence
   much more also the moral life. Nineveh and Babylon attained, in
   ante-Christian times, to the culminating-point of the godless,
   pleasure-seeking, luxurious life. Religion and morality stand here in
   the most violent contrast to those of India; the rude, the violent, the
   tumultuous tolerates no law, no regulated order.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION X.

   TO a higher stand-point, though not to a higher development thereof,
   than the earlier nations, rise the merely transitorily world-historical
   Persians. The violent dualism of two mutually morally-opposed personal
   gods, calls also morality to an earnest moral struggle against
   ante-mundane, god-sprung evil; the moral personality comes much more
   emphatically into the fore-ground than ever before; the moral task
   becomes more difficult, but it has the certain promise of ultimate
   victory over evil, not merely in a yon-side life, but within the scope
   of history itself. Morality has here, for the first time in heathendom,
   a positive goal inside of the field of history, namely, the realizing
   of a kingdom of the good upon earth; and the Persians are the sole
   heathen people who make a definite prophecy the foundation of their
   religiously-moral striving. Hence the essence of Persian morality
   consists in a definitely hope-inspired conscious struggle against evil
   as potent in the world, as well as in, and upon, man himself, and
   which, both in its guilty origin and in its effects, appears Las a not
   natural but moral and utterly illegitimate corruption,--in a
   progressive purification of man from every thing which springs from
   all-invading and all-infecting evil,--in a word, in struggling against
   the world of Angramainyus. Man stands forth with his moral will,
   legitimated and victorious, over against a potently ruling divinity.

   The Persians, whose world-historical significancy proper extends from
   Cyrus to Alexander the Great, have not been able within this short
   period to develop their religiously-moral consciousness into a
   scientifically matured form. The chief source for the same--the
   Avesta--is far inferior in contents and development of thought to the
   so-rich and deeply-suggestive sacred writings of the Indians; and yet
   the moral view, as a whole, is a higher one. The real world, in which
   man has morally to work, is here no longer the immediate divine essence
   itself, but it has come into existence essentially by a personal,
   divine act. The spirit, in its personal reality, is no longer a mere
   momentary phenomenon upon the alone-eternal nature-ground, as in China
   and India, nor is it fettered and hemmed by nature, as over-potent in
   this life, as is the case in Egypt; but it is already the higher
   creative power over nature, although not as yet a perfectly free and
   omnipotent Creator. Hence the world, in its relation to the moral
   spirit, is no longer a foreign and heterogeneous element, but as a
   spirit product, is unhostile and even congenial to the spirit; man
   begins to feel at home in the world, and hence he places no longer the
   goal of his moral striving merely in the yon-side, but he conceives it
   as to-be-attained-to within the field of history. This goal of moral
   effort is, however, not to be reached by a mere simple, natural
   development of man, but by a constant and earnest struggle against
   positively extant evil. Evil is no longer, as with the Buddhists and,
   in part already, with the Brahmins, the substance of the
   world,--inheres not in the essence of existence as inseparable
   therefrom, but has in fact become, through the moral fault of the
   personal spirit,--is a guilty fall from the originally good. This is a
   thought more strongly approximative of the Christian world-theory than
   we have as yet met with in our development of the history of the moral
   consciousness. Wherever evil is regarded as naturally necessary, there
   the vitality of the morally evil is paralyzed; the Chinese entertain
   not this view, simply because they conceive of evil in general only
   very superficially; the Indians conceive of it far more profoundly and
   earnestly, but they recognize not the moral root of the same; the
   Persians regard all evil as springing exclusively from personal act.
   This act, however, is not an historical one, but a pre-historical one;
   not a human act, but a divine one. The unitary divinity per se,
   however, cannot do evil, as is attributed to the Indian Brahma, but the
   good God, Ahura-Mazda, remains free of all evil; it is another no less
   personal god, that by free self-determination, chose the evil and now
   thrusts his world into the world of Ahura-Mazda, and is involved in all
   real evil whose proto-source he is,--namely, Angra-mainyus, that is,
   "the evilly disposed," the author of death, of falsehood, of all
   impurity, and of all hurtful creatures,--the spirit which constantly
   denies the good.

   Although, according to this, man has thrown off the guilt of evil
   reality from himself upon the world of the gods, still he conceives of
   his moral nature and life-task, in regard to this evil, more highly
   than did the earlier nations. Man, as created good by the good god, is
   placed, with complete personal freedom, in the midst of the moral
   antagonism of the world, and has now actually to accomplish in his own
   person the moral task of coming constantly into closer communion with
   Ahura-Mazda, and to contend against Angra-mainyus and all his works.
   Morality is a struggle, and rests not upon mere natural feelings and
   impulses, but upon the distinct consciousness of the holy will of the
   good god,--upon the Word expressly revealed to men. By this view,
   morality is made to throw off all nature-character, and is placed in
   the purely spiritual sphere, and at the same time the subjective
   caprice of the Semitic nations is overcome, and, for the moral, an
   objective law obtained, a law that is to be received purely
   spiritually. The revealed holy Word is the mightiest weapon against
   Angra-mainyus.--This moral struggle is a much more vigorous one than in
   Egypt, for it is joyously and hopefully conscious of final victory,
   even within the sphere of history. The Egyptian regards his god--who is
   at the same time his moral example--as defeated for the present world,
   and driven to the future world; the Persian feels himself called even
   here to a courageous co-militancy with Ahura-Mazda, who persistently
   struggles against evil, and does not succumb to it, not even in the
   present world. The Persian regards himself as a co-worker with God, and
   does not mournfully long for the next world; for his moral effort, he
   has a high object, namely, to combat against a god and the evil
   creation of that god,--also a high goal, namely, the redemption of a
   world from evil,--and also a high confidence in victory, for there will
   ultimately come the Rescuer, Çaoschyanç, that is, the Helper, who will
   accomplish the victory. It is not by mere chance that the Persians--who
   usually showed themselves hostile to foreign religions, and especially
   to all sensuous idolatry--manifested constantly a high regard for the
   Jews, in whose higher idea of God they met in fact with a somewhat
   related element.

   In correspondence to its religious presupposition, Persian morality
   bears primarily a negating character, though in a wholly different
   manner than among the Indians. While the system of the latter is
   directed against existence, and especially against the personal nature
   of man, Persian morality on the contrary directs itself, with the most
   complete consciousness of the validity of the personality, negatingly
   against every thing which belongs to the world of Angra-mainyus.
   Self-purification from every thing which stands really, or even merely
   symbolically, in relation with evil, death, or corruption,--the killing
   of poisonous and hurtful animals, and the like, are not merely moral
   requirements, but even acts of worship, and the Avesta gives, on these
   points, very precise and detailed directions.

   But also the positive phase of the moral life is much more highly
   developed in the moral consciousness of the Persians than in that of
   the earlier nations. The Persians acquired among their contemporaries
   the reputation of high moral earnestness as in contrast to the
   luxuriousness of the Semitic nations. They were, in their prime, a very
   vivacious and vigorously active people; indolence springs of
   Angra-mainyus; labor, especially agriculture, internal improvements,
   etc., are required by the good god, and are sacred duties; this is
   somewhat as it is in Chinese morality, but from a different reason; the
   Chinese labor for the present, the Persians for the future.--The moral
   relation to other men is here kindly and noble;. a high esteem for the
   personality, in every respect, forms the basis of social virtue.
   Honesty, strict truthfulness, and a high feeling of personal honor,
   distinguish Persian morality very widely from East-Asiatic. It is a
   morality of vigor and manliness.

   Where evil is no longer regarded as a merely abstract something, as a
   quality of existence in general, but as a concrete guilt reality, not a
   mere neutrum, but as borne by personality, there only can the moral
   struggle against the same be really earnest. The Chinaman labors
   quietly and busily in mechanical persistence; the Indian patiently
   endures; the Egyptian mourns, and longs to pass out of this world; the
   Shemite riots and enjoys; but the Persian battles with a manfully-moral
   earnestness. The defective phase of his moral consciousness is
   essentially this, that he throws evil off from himself upon the sphere
   of the gods,--that he has not recognized the evil of his own heart.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XI.

   The moral consciousness of the Greeks is very different from that of
   the Persians; though rising above it, it yet seems to throw the
   approximation to the Christian view, that lay in the Persian
   consciousness, farther again into the back-ground.. The heathen mind
   could not remain stationary at Persian dualism; the Greeks endeavor to
   bring about a reconciliation of the antagonism of the universe, by
   throwing this antagonism into the past, and by regarding the present as
   an expression of the harmony of existence as effected at the very
   beginning of history by a victory of the personal spirit over the
   nature-powers that opposed it; the dualism of hostile antagonism gives
   place to a dualism of love. No evil god and no nature-power hostile to
   the personal spirit, offer obstruction to the moral activity. Morality
   is not a struggle, but a progressive development of man as lper se good
   and pure; by following his own inwardly harmonious nature, by enjoying
   the intrinsically beautiful existence of the world, and by exalting
   sensuous enjoyment by means of spiritual culture, and by equally
   developing all the phases both of his sensuous and of his spiritual
   life, man arrives at the harmonious perfection of his personality,--at
   the highest goal of moral effort. The beautiful is per se the good; in
   enjoying and creating the beautiful, man is moral. The battle is not
   against a world of evil that is to be destroyed, nor in championship of
   a moral idea that is to be realized; but its end is simply to develop
   the full personality of the hero. The Greek battles for the sake of
   battling; the battle is even enjoyment, is heroic play. The Greek ideal
   is the vigorous, youthful personality,--in the world of gods,--the
   youthful Apollo, in the world of heroes, Achilles, until, at the close
   of Grecian history, it assumes a world-historical form in Alexander the
   Great. But the entire ideal element inheres in the person of the hero;
   a permanent moral world-historical reality, the Greeks could not
   create; they lacked the positively world-historical purpose;
   Alexander's world-conquering deeds aimed at, and were able to effect,
   only an exaltation of the person of the hero, and necessarily ended in
   anarchy at his death, and the Greeks became an easy prey to that nation
   which aimed with iron-persistency at the positive purpose of a unitary
   historical reality, and absolutely subordinated the person to the same.
   The moral idea is, with the Greeks, more an object of artistic
   enjoyment than of moral realization. For the positive basis of the
   higher moral life, the family, their moral consciousness is extremely
   defective, and the idea of man as man, has not as yet come to
   consciousness; only the Hellene, but not the barbarian, is regarded as
   a truly moral personality. Slavery is the indispensable foundation of
   the free state.

   The precedent antagonism of existence, which comes to consciousness in
   all heathen religions,--primarily as an antithesis of nature and
   spirit, which rises with the Persians to a moral character,--is, with
   the Greeks, not indeed entirely overcome (heathenism in fact never
   rises beyond it), but in fact reduced to harmony, a harmony, however,
   which, as viewed from a Christian stand-point, must be regarded as
   delusive. The consciousness of this antagonism comes to expression in
   myths concerning ancient combats between the spiritual gods and Titanic
   nature-powers; the gods came off victorious, and the present world
   expresses the peaceful reconciliation of the earlier antagonisms;
   every-where, both in the world of gods and of men, spirit and nature
   are in harmonious union; there is nowhere mere spirit, and nowhere mere
   nature. What appears as a hostile power over the personal spirit, was
   already vanquished anterior to human history; no inimical, evil god
   disturbs the beautiful harmony of existence; the Titans have been
   thrust into Tartarus. The foundation of Greek morality is therefore joy
   in existence,--love as enjoyment; man has not to sacrifice his
   existence and his wishes, but only to heighten the former, and to
   fulfill the latter, in so far as they express the character of harmony,
   of the beautiful; he has not, as with the Indians, to renounce the
   world, but on the contrary to enjoy it, as bearing every-where the
   stamp of the beautiful, and to remain in genial peace therewith,--has
   not, as the Persian, to battle against its reality as permeated with
   evil, but simply to pluck from it the fruits of happiness. Greek
   morality is the morality of him who is complacently self-satisfied,
   without any severe inner struggle.

   The Hellene has, in his consciousness of the harmony of existence, on
   the one hand a powerful stimulus to virtue; he endeavors to preserve
   this harmony, and hence is in general amiable, frank, and honorable; to
   a certain degree he shows also magnanimity toward his
   enemies,--respects the moral personality; but, on the other hand, he
   has in this consciousness also the tendency to make light with the
   moral; he believes himself already to have attained to the good, and
   not to need to undergo a severe struggle for its possession,--believes
   himself to have already, in his natural proclivities, also the right.
   Hence he is inclined to take life unseriously; even unnatural lusts
   pass for allowed, if they only appear under the form of the beautiful.
   The beauty of the manner beautifies the sin, and the worship of
   Aphrodite lends to sensuality itself a religious sanction. Greek
   effeminacy and luxuriousness--despised only by the Spartans--became
   even a by-word among the Romans; and even the dark passions of hate and
   revenge found in the Greek consciousness little condemnation; no Greek
   took offense at the barbarous mistreatment of the hero Hector. The most
   virtuous citizens were not respected, but banished; sycophants were
   honored, and the friends of truth hated or killed.

   A high sense for beauty raises indeed the moral consciousness to a high
   and harmonious conception of moral beauty, and the poets sketch moral
   ideals with master-hand; but these ideals are more for esthetic
   enjoyment than for moral inmitation. Even morality becomes to the
   Hellene a matter of mere spectacle, and in no heathen nation is the
   contrast between the ideal and the real life so great, as in that one
   which conceived the ideal the highest. For the practical life the
   requirements of the moral consciousness were other than for poetry; the
   same people which admired female ideals, such as Penelope, Antigone,
   and Electra, as presented in song and upon the stage, placed womanhood
   and marriage, and the family-life in general, much lower in real life
   than did the Chinese or the ancient Germans; and it was not merely in
   the censured license of the frivolous world, but also in the moral
   views of the most highly cultured, that talented concubines (especially
   after the example of Aspasia, notorious for her connection with
   Pericles, and also honored by Socrates) stood higher than house-wives
   proper, and became the real representatives of female culture, and
   ideals of female grace. Sparta, by its legislation, overthrew on
   principle the proper life of the family; the penal laws against
   bachelors which finally became a necessity, furnish proof, how popular
   this anti-family legislation was. [21] Solon found it necessary in the
   interest of the State to protect by penal enactments the merest natural
   duties of the marriage-state, at least within the bounds of a minimum
   requirement; [22] --so great was already in his day the general
   disinclination to wedlock, which, though forming the foundation of all
   true morality, was regarded in the Golden Age of Greece as little
   better than a necessary evil. The bringing about of abortion and the
   exposing of new-born children, was a right of parents, which was not
   only protected by laws, but even defended by the most esteemed
   philosophers. The perverseness not only of frivolous practice, but of
   the general moral consciousness, is manifested most strikingly in the
   prevalence of unnatural vice, as apologized for even by philosophers
   themselves; and the dark picture of St. Paul not merely of Greek
   morality itself, but also of the moral consciousness of the Greeks
   (Rom. i, 21 sqq.), is perfectly corroborated by historical reality. In
   certain efforts of recent date to clarify the Christian world-view by
   the help of the "classical" one, these facts ought not to be left out
   of sight. The heathen Germans stand in this respect very much higher
   than the Greeks.

   However fully the moral consciousness of the worth and dignity of the
   personality is developed, still the dignity of true manhood is conceded
   only to the free Hellenes, who constituted by far the smallest number
   of the Greek population. (In Attica at its highest prosperity there
   were 400,000 slaves, in Corinth 460,000). The barbarian and the slave
   have no right to the full dignity of personality. Freedom without
   slavery is, in the eyes of a Greek, an absurdity. The generally
   prevalent mild treatment of their slaves was more an expression of
   natural kindheartedness, and of personal interest than of conceded
   right; the Spartan slave-massacres were the expression of an undisputed
   right of the State and of the free citizens; even Plato and Aristotle
   are unable to conceive of a State and of political freedom without the
   personal unfreedom of slavery. The so-called notion of
   "humanitarianism" limits the practice of this virtue to the possessors
   of slaves; and the higher the right and the might of the free citizens
   are placed, so much the more complete and striking becomes also the
   rightlessness of the slaves. That slaves are but domestic animals
   possessed of intelligence was a general maxim, recognized even by
   philosophers.

   Though the reality of the moral consciousness and of the moral life of
   the Greek is in many respects far below that of other heathen nations,
   still the moral idea that underlies this reality is a higher one. That
   which, in the Christian worldview, forms the presupposition of all
   truly moral life, namely, the reconciliation of the contradiction and
   of the antagonism in the world of reality, the higher right and the
   higher power of the personal spirit over unfree nature, this is
   recognized by the Greeks, though indeed with heathen perversions, in a
   higher manner than is the case among the earlier heathen nations. Only
   man as redeemed by the historical redemption-act from the power of his
   sinful naturalness, and as now for the first having risen to a truly
   free moral personality, is capable, according to the Christian view, of
   accomplishing true morality;-- also the Hellene makes the
   reconciliation of the antagonism, the actual harmony of human nature
   and of existence in general, the presupposition of morality, and
   conceives this reconciliation as one that falls indeed before human
   history, but yet is accomplished by the free act of the personal
   spirit; whereas with the earlier nations (where the consciousness of
   the inner antagonism and contradiction is also recognized) the right of
   the personal spirit is either rejected, or else thrown for its
   realization into the far future, either into the life after death, or
   at least toward the close of the world's history. It is true, this
   thought of a reconciliation is made possible only by the fact that the
   consciousness of moral guilt is kept away from the antagonism that is
   to be reconciled, and that this antagonism is conceived rather as of a
   primitive cosmical character, and moreover that not man but the
   personal gods enter into the sphere thereof, and, battling,
   overcome,--so that there is left for man nothing further than the
   enjoyable repetition of the same in artistic play; the Olympic games
   are a commemoration of the battles of the Titans; and, accordingly, the
   entire moral life becomes to the Greek an artistic play;--nevertheless
   the ground-thought is still of high significancy,--the thought that
   only man as having become free through the reconciliation of the
   antagonism of real existence is capable of morality. But that the
   carrying-out of this thought is weakened down on all sides, that the
   Greek does not in his moral consciousness rise out of his esthetic play
   to full earnestness of life, this is in fact simply the heathen
   character of this consciousness. And even in the fact that to the
   Hellene, morality appears so easy, there lies a presentiment of the
   true thought, that to the morally emancipated man the moral law appears
   no longer as a yoke or burden, but is, on the contrary, the direct,
   unforced, bliss-inspired and blissful life-outgush of sanctified human
   nature. To no nation of heathendom does morality become so light a task
   as to the Hellenes. The Hellene knows no moral code of laws compelling
   the moral subject to obedience, with objective authority; and even the
   moralizing philosophers themselves, in striking contrast to the
   Chinese, the Indians, and even the Persians, tarry almost exclusively
   in the sphere of general thoughts, and give only seldom definite
   precepts for the details of life. The moral subject bears the law
   within himself, and bows himself under no foreign objective law. And
   this is in fact but a heathen perversion of the per se true thought,
   that with the spiritually-regenerated the law of God is: written in
   their hearts,--that to them his yoke is easy and his burden light. As
   the Chinese and Persian consciousness shows some resemblance to that of
   the Hebrews, so the Greek consciousness has analogies to the Christian,
   especially as the latter is presented by that Apostle who labored among
   the Greeks. That with the Greeks the analogical thought rests upon an
   untrue foundation, and worked hurtfully in its carrying-out,--that it
   led to sinful presumption, and created a morality actually inferior in
   many respects to that of the Chinese, the Indians and Persians,--this
   evinces not the fallaciousness of the thought per se, but only the
   perversity of the natural man, who turns all the truth attainable by
   him into the service of sin, and thus confirms the weighty utterance
   that only he "whom the Son makes free is free indeed." He who is
   inwardly unfree, and yet imagines himself free, is morally in greater
   danger than he who is unfree and also knows himself as such. The Greek
   appears morally more responsible and more guilty than the other
   heathen, because he has a higher knowledge; and the Apostle's moral
   sentence upon the heathen [Rom. i, 18 sqq.] falls upon the Greeks with
   much greater force. than upon the other heathen.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [21] Plato: Symp., p. 192.

   [22] Plutarch: Solon, c. 20.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XII.

   To a philosophical form, [23] the moral consciousness of the Greeks
   rose, with some distinctness, for the first, through Socrates; before
   him we find little more than a practical morality expressed in
   disconnected moral maxims, without further proof or development.
   Socrates, who speculated less on metaphysical questions than simply on
   the good, not only bases the moral upon philosophical knowledge, but
   finds in fact in this knowledge the essence and the highest degree of
   the moral. To know is the highest virtue, and out of this virtue follow
   directly and with inner necessity all the others; a contradiction
   between knowledge and volition is inconceivable; practically, morality
   manifests itself in the subordinating of the irrational desires to
   rational knowledge, and especially in obedience to civil laws.
   Unconscious of the might of evil in the natural man, Socrates conceives
   the moral essentially only as measured by a rational calculating of
   outward fitness to ends. His significancy for moral philosophy lies in
   his calling attention to rational knowledge as the source of the moral,
   and to the no longer arbitrarily subjectively-determined good as the
   end of rational effort.

   The Greeks occupy themselves very early with the nature of the moral;
   the most ancient so-called Wise Men are, for the most part, moralists.
   It was very long, however, before the Greeks reduced their
   isolatedly-presented, and rather empirically-based, moral maxims to any
   sort of unity and order. Philosophy proper occupied itself primarily
   with purely metaphysical questions, and the moral views expressed were,
   with the earlier philosophers, for the most part, a mere supplement of
   observations and life-rules but loosely connected with their
   speculations proper.

   Socrates was the first who, as it was said, called philosophy from
   heaven to the sphere of the earth; it is with him essentially moral,
   and, from merely metaphysical speculations, he turns away with a
   certain displeasure; even in his consideration of the idea of God,
   greater prominence is given to the moral phase of the divine activity.
   With him the knowledge of the good is the chief end of philosophy; but,
   for the simple reason that here ethics springs exclusively from
   philosophy, the element of knowledge far outweighs in it the element of
   the heart. The ethics of Socrates is a coldly rational calculating; it
   has not, as has Christian ethics, an historical basis and
   presupposition, but is invented purely à priori. Man is by nature
   thoroughly good,--is, in his freedom, not simply at first as yet
   undecided, but he has by nature a decided tendency to the good, just as
   reason has a natural affinity for the truth. Evil is by no means to be
   explained from mere volition, but only from error. The human
   understanding can err, and the act resulting from error is the evil;
   without error there would be no evil, and it is absolutely impossible
   that man should not also will that which he has recognized as good. It
   needs, therefore, only that men be brought to a knowledge of the good,
   and then they will also act virtuously. The motive to the moral is not
   love, but knowledge; to instruct is to make better; the philosopher is
   also the virtuous man, and only the philosopher can practice true
   virtue; the ignorant man is also immoral. Self-knowledge--the gnothi
   seauton--is the presupposition of all morality,--not, however, in the
   sense familiar to Christians, of a knowledge of the heart as inclined
   to sin, but only in the sense of a knowledge of the logical nature of
   the thinking spirit; in his dialogues, Socrates does not think of
   bringing men to a knowledge of their moral guilt,--he simply aims to
   convince them as to how little they as yet know. Hence ethics is with
   him a one-sided doctrine of knowledge. There is properly-speaking only
   one virtue, and this is wisdom, that is, knowledge; and all other
   virtues are only different forms of this one virtue. [24]

   Practically, wisdom manifests itself mainly in self-mastery, that is,
   in governing by knowledge all appetites, dispositions, feelings, and
   passions. Man must always remain master of himself,--must in all
   circumstances, however different, always act strictly according to his
   knowledge and in harmony with himself,--must not let himself be led by
   unconscious desires; and, inasmuch as a man's knowledge cannot be taken
   from him, anti as the changeable movements of feeling are under the
   control of knowledge, hence man has in this faculty of knowledge also
   complete happiness, and the wise man is necessarily also happy; and
   this happiness depends exclusively on himself. Therein consists the
   freedom of the sage.--Knowledge, virtue, and happiness are consequently
   not essentially different from each other,--are simply different phases
   of the same thing. In that Socrates essentially identifies the good
   with knowledge, he raises it above the arbitrary caprice of the
   individual subject, seeing that truth is not dependent on the good
   pleasure of said subject. Thus the good has a validity independently of
   the individual, and all rational men must recognize the same thing as
   good. Hence the moral idea has attained to contents of a general and
   necessary character; and Socrates recognizes the objective significancy
   of the same, in that he ascribes right wisdom to God alone. [25]

   These general thoughts form the scientific basis of the subsequent
   currents of philosophy. Socrates himself does not rise beyond them and
   enter into details. Whenever the question is as to giving to these
   general thoughts more definite contents, he refers to the laws of the
   State, in the fulfillincg of which man fulfills the requirements of
   morality. Hence his morality is merely Greek civic virtue,--has no
   higher ideal contents. To obey the laws of the State is the sum of all
   duties; a dikaios is the same as a nomimos. To do good to one's
   friends, and evil to one's enemies, is a moral requirement, [26] though
   indeed to suffer wrong is better than to do it,--the doing of evil to
   one's enemies being in fact not a wrong, but a legitimate retaliation.
   [27]

   In general the tendency of Socrates is toward a dry, prosaic
   utilitarianism. His moral views, in so far as they are not idealized by
   Plato, are devoid of all ideal enthusiasm. And in his own moral life he
   by no means rises beyond ordinary Greek morality; and it required all
   the superficiality of modern deistic "illuminism," to undertake to
   place Socrates as a moral ideal by the side of Christ. In Plato's
   Symposium, Socrates surpasses all the others in drinking, and even
   outquaffs the whole company without getting intoxicated himself; and
   yet even this Platonic Socrates is already considerably idealized. In
   Xenophon. [28] he goes with a friend to a hetaera, who is sitting as a
   model for a painter, and instructs her in the art of enticing men. The
   manner in which it has been attempted to justify this, is not of the
   most happy. If, in such a case, Socrates knows of nothing better than
   to indulge in plays of dialectical skill, evidently his judgment of the
   matter itself is not very condemnatory. And in other respects his
   bearing toward lasciviousness, [29] gives evidence of deep
   erroneousness of moral consciousness even in the philosopher himself.
   Of moral and family love, Socrates has, so far as our knowledge of him
   goes, scarcely a presentiment. When his wife comes, with her child,
   into the prison, to take leave of her husband after his condemnation to
   death, Socrates simply turns to his friends, and says dryly, "Let some
   one, I pray you, take the woman away from here, to her house;" and she
   is led out by a slave; and in his last long farewell speech to the
   world, Socrates bestows upon wife and children not a single word. For
   his virtues, such as they were, he is worthy of praise, but still he
   manifestly does not rise above mere Greek virtue.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [23] Wehrenpfennig: Verschiedenheit d. eth. Princ. b. d. Hellenen,
   1856.

   [24] Aristotle: Eth. Nic., vi, 13; iii, 6, 7; Eth. Eud., i, 5; vii, 13;
   Magn. Mor., i, 1, 9; ii, 6; Xen.: Mem., i, 1, 16; iii, 9, 4, 5; iv, 6,
   6; Plato: Lach., p. 194 sqq. Apol., p 26; Diog. L., ii, 31.

   [25] Plato: Apol., p. 23.

   [26] Xen.: Mem., ii, 6, 35.

   [27] Plato: Rep., i, p. 335; Crito, p. 49.

   [28] Mem., iii, 11.

   [29] Ibid., i, 3, 14, 15.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XIII.

   From Socrates there sprang up several mutually-differing schools, the
   peculiarity and difference of which lie especially in their ethical
   views.--The Cynics (through Antisthenes) develop the doctrine of
   Socrates as to the ethical significancy of knowledge, into one-sided
   prominence in its practical application. Knowledge works directly the
   good; virtue, as resting exclusively on knowledge, is the highest goal
   of human life. It manifests itself essentially in the struggle against
   irrational desires; desirelessness is the highest virtue.--Over against
   the Cynics, the Cyrenaics (through Aristippus) emphasize the other
   phase of the wisdom-life, namely, happiness. Happiness is the highest
   good, and therefore the highest goal of the moral; virtue is only a
   means to this end. And happiness consists in the feeling of pleasure,
   in enjoyment. Hence enjoyment is the goal of the moral striving; in it
   alone man becomes free, because in it the desires that press and
   disturb him come to quiet.

   Both of these schools undertake to find an objective ground for the
   moral; in fact, however, neither of them finds any thing more than a
   strictly subjective one; the Cynics take their starting-point in
   subjective knowledge, and in the will as determined thereby; the
   Cyrenaics, in feeling. Both schools are equally one-sided developments
   of tendencies that existed in germ in Socrates. If knowledge, virtue,
   and happiness are essentially the same thing, then it is indifferent
   which of these phases is made the starting-point,--whether it be said
   that virtue consists in an unconditional obedience to knowledge, or in
   the striving after happiness; and hence the Cynic is right when he
   asserts, that in following knowledge we need not inquire as to the
   sensation of pleasure or displeasure, for true happiness follows from
   virtue of necessity; and if sensation should seem to contradict this,
   then it is simply to be despised as a false one. The Cyrenaic is
   likewise consequential when he asserts, that in following the feeling
   of happiness we need not inquire as to philosophical knowledge, for as
   happiness follows from virtue of necessity, hence in the feeling of
   pleasure we have certain proof that we are practicing virtue, and hence
   also that we correctly understand the good.

   The Cynics give exclusive predominance to the rational tendency in
   Socrates; there is for the good in the widest sense of the word no
   other decisive criterion than knowledge. And the knowledge of the good
   and the manner of action that rests exclusively upon this knowledge,
   are the sole thing which has real worth for man. Only the good in this
   sense is beautiful, and only evil is deformed; whatever else is
   pleasant for the senses or feelings is entirely worthless; and even all
   knowledge that does not relate to the good is useless. True freedom
   consists in perfect indifference to whatever lies outside of the
   individual spirit. All evil rests upon error,--has its source in false
   impressions and ideas, but not at all in the heart. The wise man is, in
   virtue of his knowledge, free from all evil.--The independence of the
   personal spirit is here most one-sidedly conceived of, as a
   contemptuous turning-away from all objective reality,--as an
   over-confident trusting in one's (evidently very immature and
   fortuitous) subjective knowledge, as a complete self-isolation of the
   persistently opinionated subject. Hence there result an absolute
   indifference to all outer existence, even to all historical reality and
   to social custom, a throwing off of all reverence for the objective
   reality of the spirit as developing itself in history. However much of
   truth may lie in the ground-thought of Cynicism, still its practical
   development on the basis of its defective presuppositions leads almost
   necessarily to a caricature,--to an unbridled insolence of the immature
   spirit, giving birth to such phenomena as that of Diogenes. There is
   manifested in this school the pride of easily-satisfied
   self-righteousness, the haughty self-isolation of the subject as
   breaking loose from all objective realization of the rational spirit.

   The Cyrenaics pushed to its extreme the other phase. A happiness which
   I do not feel as pleasure, is none at all. If virtue makes happy, then
   I must at once also feel it. Hence that which is truly good, must at
   once evince itself as such in the sphere of the sensibilities; and,
   conversely, that which impresses me pleasurably must be good, otherwise
   there would be another form of happiness than that produced by virtue.
   Hence between one pleasure and another there can be no essential moral
   difference; consequently the feeling of pleasure or of displeasure is a
   perfectly safe guide in the sphere of the moral. Hence the chief point
   in practical wisdom is, to procure for one's self the feeling of
   pleasure; from this principle the inquiry must first take its start. By
   observation, for example, I find that temperateness is a virtue,
   because intemperateness occasions suffering. Hence true wisdom as
   founded on this basis consists in the rational governing of the measure
   of each particular pleasure, and not in the knowledge of any general
   principles; such principles, other than the one just given, do not
   exist, but each enjoyment is governed by its own particular measure,
   which is discovered for the most part simply through experience.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XIV.

   Plato gives to Greek ethics a deeply suggestive scientific basis and
   form. The world is an expression of the divine ideas, a thing of
   beauty. That which answers to the divine idea, namely, the god-like, is
   good. Man has the task, in virtue of his rational spirituality, to
   realize the good, consciously and with freedom; the essence of virtue
   is, pleasure in the good as being the truly beautiful,--love. As
   expressing in itself the harmony of the soul; virtue is also the
   condition of true happiness; not the direct pleasure-feeling, however,
   but rational knowledge, decides as to the good, and such knowledge
   works the same directly. Hence virtue is neither indifferent to
   pleasure, nor does it consist therein, but it produces it. However, all
   virtue, because of the imperfection essentially inherent in existence,
   remains ever imperfect in the earthly life; the corporeal nature of man
   itself is a hinderance.--Virtue is in its essence unitary, but because
   of its relation to the manifold soul-powers and life-manifestations, it
   manifests itself fourfoldly, as wisdom, manliness, temperateness, and
   justness, of which the first is the fundamental one, and dominates the
   others.--Morality, however, is not a something belonging merely to the
   individual person, but has its full reality only in the moral
   community-life, the State, which rests not so much on the family and on
   moral society, as rather constitutes, itself, the exclusive form of the
   moral society-life, and in fact itself produces the family and all
   other moral forms of communion, out of itself, and dominates them with
   unconditional authority. The absolutism of the State swallows up into
   itself every right of the moral personality and of the family, and it
   is not as man, nor as a member of the family, but solely as citizen,
   that the individual is capable of realizing true morality. But also
   only an inferior number are capacitated thereto; and therefore these
   few who are capable of true wisdom are called, by this very fact, to
   the unlimited governing of the others. The moral task is consequently
   not a general one for humanity,--is not the same for all, and is in its
   full truth not possible for all.

   Plato, far surpassing Socrates in spiritual profundity, developed with
   creative originality the thoughts which his master had possessed rather
   only as mere presentiments, into a scheme of profound speculation, very
   different from the popular moralizing of the son of Sophroniscus. His
   ethical thoughts, which are not shaped into a rounded system, are
   expressed more especially in the following of his works: Protagoras,
   Laches, Charmides, Euthyphron, Gorgias, Menon, Philebus, Politicus, and
   in his work which presents the realized moral organism, the Republic or
   State.

   In the thought of the rational spirit, which Plato conceives more
   deeply than was ever done before, he obtains a much more solid
   foundation for the moral than did the earlier philosophy. The world is
   in its essence, not indeed created, but formed by God, the absolute,
   rational spirit,--is the most perfect possible expression of his
   thoughts, a copy of the divine eternal ideas. The realization of an
   idea is the beautiful; hence the cosmos is an object of beauty. [30]
   The rational immortal spirit of man--his ideal phase--has the task of
   realizing the beautiful, the ideal, and the highest end of human life
   is ideality, that is, it is, to become like God; this God-likeness,
   which consists in justness and in sincere piety, is the good, and the
   highest good is God himself. [31] This thought of God-likeness,
   however, Plato does not further develop, nor indeed could he do so,
   seeing that the God-idea itself, as embraced from a heathen
   stand-point, was too unclear. The idea of the good is here not derived
   from the idea of God, but conversely it is undertaken to determine the
   idea of God from the idea of the good, as being fundamental and per se
   certain. Evidently we have not to do here with the Christian thought of
   God-likeness. The thought of a divine command falls back behind the
   thought of the idea of the good as innate in reason itself. This mode
   of viewing the matter lies in the nature of the case, seeing that in
   fact there could be here no question of any other revelation of the
   divine will. The good which is conceived merely in a general and rather
   indefinite manner as the inner harmony and order or beauty of the soul,
   as the untrammeled domination of reason, and hence rather under a
   formal than a material aspect, [32] is per se a something divine and
   true, and as such to be aspired to; and the individual pleasure-feeling
   is not the measure of virtue, nor the good itself. [33] It is true,
   virtue alone renders truly happy, that is, works complete inner harmony
   of soul, and there is no happiness without virtue, for virtue itself is
   simply such a harmony or beauty of soul, [34] and to do wrong is the
   greatest of all evils, greater than to suffer wrongs, [35] but
   happiness is not one and the same with every chance pleasure-feeling.
   [36] It is not this feeling, in its dependence on the accidentalities
   of outer circumstances and of the frame-of-mind, but only the idea of
   the good, that can be known and truly identified; [37] hence the
   pleasure-feeling cannot be the decisive criterion as to the good, and
   the good cannot be aspired to merely for the sake of the pleasure. The
   knowledge of the idea of the good--which, like the consciousness of any
   and of every idea, is not the product of a reflective course of
   thought, that is, not derived knowledge, but on the contrary a direct
   reason-knowledge, and the highest of all that can be known--is the
   foundation and presupposition of virtue; without knowledge there is no
   virtue; virtue is not a natural quality of man, but is learned and
   appropriated by learning. [38] And the knowledge of the good leads with
   inner necessity to the practicing of that which is recognized as good;
   evil rests essentially upon error, and is never committed with
   consciousness and intentionally; [39] herein Plato perfectly harmonizes
   with Socrates. The will has, over against knowledge, no discretion
   whatever, but is the direct and necessary expression thereof. The
   lower, sensuous desires can indeed withstand reason, but the will of
   the spirit itself cannot do so. That also the heart--the spiritual
   essence of man himself--may have a natural tendency to evil, Plato has
   not the least conscious suspicion. Nevertheless an obscure presentiment
   of the entrance of corruption into the universe does find expression in
   his notion, that the present enchainment of the spirit to a body is not
   an original and normal, but a guiltily-incurred state of things. In
   fact, according to Plato, the soul existed as a rational personality
   once before in a bodiless state, and only in consequence of a moral
   transgression was it joined to a trammeling corporeality, so that it is
   now, as it were, fettered in a cell or a dark cavern. [40] Also for
   still another reason, the good, though indeed the highest end, is yet
   never fully attainable in the earthly life. For inasmuch as the real
   world is not solely and purely the work of the absolute God-will, but,
   on the contrary, a product of two factors,--whereof the one is the
   formless proto-material which is in fact a relative nonentity (me on),
   and the other the ideal God-will,--and as the former, because not
   posited by God himself, does not perfectly yield to the formative
   working of God when impressing his ideas upon it (even as the impress
   of a seal never reflects perfectly clearly every feature of the
   same),--so the world is not an absolutely perfect one, but only the
   best possible one,--is not the pure and mere expression of the rational
   spirit, but there lingers in it a never entirely-overcomable irrational
   residuum,--an evil lying in the essence of the world itself, which
   though not sprung from the fault of moral creatures, is yet the ground
   and source of all moral guilt,--a proto-evil. [41] So also is there in
   man himself a primitive antagonism never entirely overcomable in the
   present life, namely, between reason and the lower animal desires,
   which latter should in fact be morally dominated by reason. [42] In
   Plato, therefore, there is lacking to the moral consciousness that
   joyous confidence which characterizes Christian morality. "Evil can
   never be annihilated, for there must always be something over against
   the good; it cannot, however, have its seat among the gods, but it
   inheres in mortal nature; therefore man should strive as soon as
   possible to flee hence and to escape thither." [43] "True philosophers
   are minded to strive after nothing other than to decease and be dead,
   seeing that, so long as we still have the body, and our soul is united
   with this evil [the body], we can never attain to that whereafter we
   aspire;" [44] and they lay not violent hands upon themselves simply
   because they are placed by God in this life as upon a watch, which they
   are not at liberty to abandon at will. [45]

   Hence morality consists primarily in this, that man turns himself to
   the ideal, the spiritual, and away from the merely sensuous. This is,
   however, only one phase of morality, the ideal; the other phase is the
   real one. Even as God, in impressing his ideas upon matter, shaped the
   world into an object of beauty, so must also man actively merge and
   imprint himself into the actual world-existence, and shape it into
   beauty. Hence virtuousness is delight in the beautiful. And the
   beautiful is harmony, not merely sensuous but also spiritual. The
   essence of virtue is, as this delight in the beautiful, love, or
   eros,--a thought that is developed by Plato with very great emphasis
   (especially in his Phaedrus, Lysis, and Symposium). This is, however,
   by no means the Christian idea of love--that love in which man knows
   himself at one with another in virtue of communion with God,--but it is
   a love to the manifestation, to the beautiful. Not the divine per se is
   loved, but the concrete, and even essentially sensuous manifestation.
   It is not a love of soul to soul, but one that clings to the sensuous
   form. Hence it has in Plato's state no significancy for the family. It
   is true, eros exalts itself from the sensuous to the spiritual, to
   soul-beauty; [46] the sensuous element, however, remains the basis, and
   does not receive its worth simply from the spiritual. The beautiful is
   per se, and in all of its manifestations, a revelation of the divine,
   and the divine is accessible to us only under the form of the
   beautiful; where beauty is, there is also the divine. This is the
   characteristically Greek stand-point; beauty and grace excuse all sin;
   even the frivolous is recognized as good, provided it is only
   beautiful. The recognition of love under every form, even under that of
   unnatural vice, is so characteristic of the Greek, that even Plato
   attempts a philosophical justification thereof, which is far from
   complimentary to Greek ethics. [47] In love, here, predominates by no
   means self-denial, as is the case, with Christian love, but simply
   pleasure; I love another not for his sake, but for my own sake. This
   love knows nothing of a self-sacrificing suffering, but only a
   self-enjoying, at farthest only a suffering of longing and jealousy. It
   is true, mere sensuous love as directed to merely fleshly enjoyment, is
   blamed; [48] but where a higher spiritual love, not merely to the body
   but also to the soul, exists, and in the beautiful the divine element
   is recognized, there sensuous love, even when it assumes the form of a
   misuse of sex, finds its justification, and becomes a virtue, and even
   a religious enthusiasm. [49] "Beautifully enacted, it is beautiful;
   otherwise, however, shameful." [50] The very circumstance that Plato
   speaks so repeatedly and so extensively and with visible approval of
   this absolutely vicious love [Rom. i, 27], while at the same time he
   scarcely touches upon the morally close-related mere sexual love, and,
   in his long discourses on eros, honors wedlock love with not a single
   word, and further that he attempts to repress [51] the feeling that
   instinctively impresses itself upon him, that there is something
   shameful therein, by the help of strangely ingenious turns of thought
   and disguises and enthusiastically poetical expressions, which cannot
   but make upon the modern reader a truly distressful impression,--all
   this is a notable and significant index of the moral bewilderment of
   the Greek spirit.

   Plato's development of the idea of the moral is as follows: Virtue, as
   essentially constituting a unity, appears primarily as wisdom, sophia,
   consisting in a knowledge of the truth and of the good; upon wisdom as
   the chief virtue, depend all the other virtues. Now, in that wisdom
   brings to the consciousness what really is, and what is not, to be
   feared in our moral efforts and in our struggle against hostile powers,
   it develops our natural zeal in acting into the virtue of manliness or
   courage, andreia. And in that it teaches us what is the inner harmony
   of the soul, and what is the proper subordination of sensuous and
   irrational desires to reason, it develops the virtue of temperateness
   or prudence, sophrosune, which preserves the right inner order of the
   soul through the domination of reason over all lower life-forces and
   pleasure-desires; these lower desires are not crushed out, but simply
   kept within proper limits, and placed in the service of reason. In that
   wisdom guides to outward activity the harmony of the inner soul-life in
   its relation to other men, it develops the virtue of justness, which
   preserves harmony with and among men, in that it respects the rights of
   each individual; it presupposes the' other three virtues, and indeed
   gives them their proper force and significancy. [52] To justness
   belongs also piety or holiness, hosiotes, which preserves man in his
   proper relation to the gods;--Plato uses here, constantly, the plural.
   [53] A more full development of the virtues Plato has not given; and
   the necessity of precisely the four ones actually given is based more
   on the nature of the State than on that of the moral person. A special
   treatise on duties is not given; and, in consideration of the notion
   that an inwardly harmonious and hence virtuous soul finds, of itself,
   the proper course in each particular conjuncture, [54] such a treatise
   appears indeed as superfluous. That morality is not conceived of as of
   a merely individual character, but, on the contrary, as realizing
   itself essentially in moral communion, is a great advance of the moral
   consciousness; but in that this thought is carried out in the most
   rigid one-sidedness, and, as it were, with a theoretical
   passionateness, and in that it lacks the proper historical and
   religious bases, Plato has arrived, in his enthusiastically and
   persistently pursued ideal of a State, at a positive caricature, which
   has brought upon the great philosopher, in the eyes of those who look
   upon the real world with practical sobriety, the appearance of
   ridiculousness, or at least the reproach of an utterly unpractical
   theorizing; [55] and it has often been undertaken to rescue the
   reputation of the great man by simply holding his state-theory as a
   mere ideal not in the least designed for realization. But both this
   reproach, and also this attempt at vindicating his honor, do injustice
   to the philosopher. Unquestionably his work on the State is the most
   mature and the most fully perfected of his writings,--one upon which he
   wrought with the highest and most enthusiastic preference. (His work on
   the Laws has greater reference to the real world, which as yet was very
   different from his ideal State, and expresses rather a preliminary
   expedient, until the true state finds a bold creator.) That his ideal
   of a state was not intended by him for realization, has no good
   evidence in its favor, and is on the whole incredible; on the contrary,
   it cannot be doubted but that Plato made repeated attempts, and with
   well-grounded hopes, at realizing his state-theory by the help of
   Dionysius the Younger in Syracuse; [56] and his own declarations as to
   the practicability of his state-theory confirm this. [57] From our own
   social views these theories differ very widely, it is true; but to a
   Greek, and especially to the state-institutions of the Doric tribes,
   which were regarded by Plato with great admiration, they were by no
   means foreign, and they have already in the laws of Sparta an actual
   prototype in very essential points. Precisely in its contrasts to the
   Christian view of moral communion, to the idea of the Christian Church
   and of the Christian state, the Platonic state is very instructive. Not
   individual man, but the state, is the moral person proper, by which all
   the morality of the individuals is conditioned, produced, and
   sustained.

   Not the moral individual persons make the state, but the state makes
   the moral persons. Without the state, and outside of it, there is no
   morality proper, but only unculture. Hence the task of the state is to
   make its citizens into morally good persons,--to undertake the cure of
   souls. [58] The state,--which in its inner constitution as a harmonious
   moral organism, answers to the three phases of the soul-life of man,
   and represents (1) reason or thought and knowledge, and (2) courage or
   zeal, thumos, and (3) sensuousness, in the three classes of society,
   namely, (1) the savans, who therefore rule, (2) the warriors, and (3)
   the producers, that is, the instructing, the protecting, and the
   providing classes, [59] --realizes inner harmony, and hence at the same
   time justness and happiness, in that it does not permit each individual
   to act and work at his personal discretion, and to select his own
   life-calling, but on the contrary in that it assigns to each his
   special and appropriate position in the whole,--a position which the
   individual must unquestioningly accept and fulfill, without
   intermeddling in any manner in any other form of activity. A rigorous
   separation of ranks and of professions by the state itself, is the
   unconditional presupposition of a healthy state-life. The rulers have
   the task of assigning the individuals to the particular classes,
   according to their capabilities. [60] The productive class, which
   corresponds to sensuous desire, has as its special virtue,
   temperateness or modesty, which it realizes by keeping itself within
   its proper bounds. Courage and wisdom belong to the two higher classes;
   these two are the gold and silver, while the productive class is but
   ignoble brass. The producer is not to concern himself with state
   matters, but simply to attend to handicraft and agriculture. [61]
   Slavery is presupposed as a mere matter of course; however, where
   practicable, only non-Greeks are to be sold as slaves. [62]

   The rulers have wisdom as their essential virtue; there can never be in
   the state but a few of them, and it is best when there is but one, and
   this one a philosopher. The good of the whole requires the exclusive
   dominion of the best,--an absolute aristocracy or a monarchy. [63] And
   as wisdom can find the right course in each particular case, whereas
   laws must always be merely general, and often do not apply to
   particular conjunctures, hence the power of those who rule should not
   be cramped by many laws, but must have scope for free movement, and
   must decide in each particular case with entire discretion; and the
   wise ruler will often, without law and against the will of the
   citizens, and hence with force, realize the weal of the state, and
   force the citizens to let themselves be made happy. [64]

   The truly free personality is conceded accordingly only to the sage,
   who is at the same time the ruler; all the other citizens of the state
   are, in their entire life, absolutely subject to the state, the
   spiritual essence of which finds its expression not so much in abstract
   law as in the perfected personality of the ruling sage. Though the
   members of the third class are left more free, still this is done only
   out of contempt; "even if shoe-cobblers are bad, still they bring
   little danger to the state." [65] The true citizen, the one possessing
   the virtue of wisdom and manliness, is under the absolute guidance of
   the state; the absolutism of the state is without limitation. The two
   higher classes, as the proper and complete representatives of the
   spiritual essence of the state, the sentinels of the same, are reared
   and educated, and determined in their collective life by the state. In
   their education first importance is given to music and gymnastics, in
   order that they may learn to love and practice harmony; the education
   of the future rulers--who can become rulers only at the age of fifty
   years, after having passed the test of severe trials--requires,
   additionally, special acquaintance with mathematics and philosophy.
   [66] To any other religious culture than that given by philosophy,
   Plato, who clearly saw the worthlessness of the popular religion, could
   not refer. [67]

   The state as including in itself and guiding all morality, and as
   realizing justness, has all and every right; the individual citizen of
   the state has rights only in so far as the state concedes them to him;
   even to his life he has no right, so soon as he is no longer capable of
   benefiting the state; the physicians are charged with the duty of
   letting the incurably sick perish without help. [68] The state alone is
   entitled to property; private property is not to be allowed. The
   producing class labors not for itself, but solely for the state. [69]
   With this principle Plato supposes himself to have quenched at once all
   the sources of contention and disquiet. Even the act of poesy stands
   under the rigid censorship of the state; and dramatic poetry is not to
   be tolerated at all. [70] The appropriate meters to be used in poetry
   are carefully prescribed, and of musical instruments only the cithara
   and the lyre are allowed. [71]

   The family is not the foundation, but only a branch of the state, and
   merges itself into it. Personality has here no right of its own. No one
   consort belongs to the other, but both belong exclusively to the state.
   Wedlock proper is consequently inadmissible, on the contrary the
   citizen is obligated to the begetting of children in the interest of
   the state; in this connection personal love to the sex has no validity,
   but only civic duty. The citizen is not permitted to choose for himself
   the wife (who is conceded to him only temporarily), but the state gives
   her to him,--ostensibly by lot, but in reality the rulers are to "make
   use of falsehood and deception," and cunningly to guide the lot
   according to their own judgment, so as always to bring together the
   most suitable pairs. Men are under obligation to beget from their
   thirtieth to their fifty-fifth year; women to bear from their twentieth
   to their fortieth year. This of itself implies that there is to be no
   permanent marriage relation; on the contrary a change of wives is
   expressly required; no one is permitted to regard any woman as his own
   exclusive possession. [72] It is laid down as a principle for the free
   and active citizens proper, "that all the women should be in common to
   all the men, and that no woman should live solely with one man, and
   that also the children are to be in common, so that no father shall
   know the child begotten by him, and no child its own father." [73]
   Hence the children are, immediately after their birth, to be taken away
   from their mothers, and to be reared in common on the part of the
   state, and the greatest possible care is to be taken that the mother
   shall never again recognize her child. The children are nursed by the
   women in common and interchangeably; feeble and physically imperfect
   children are to be exposed. [74] After the lapse of the determined
   period of life, the procreation with the persons specifically assigned
   by the state, and as having taken place at the order of the state, is
   to cease, and, from this time on, both the men and the women may form
   temporary connections with each other on the principle of elective
   affinity, with the one proviso that births must be prevented, or, where
   this cannot be done, the child must be left to perish without food.
   [75] --The woman is not a family-mother, but only a state-citizen, and
   she has political duties, in real and even magisterial state-offices,
   to fulfill. The women must perform the same work as the men,--must even
   take part, entirely nude, in the gymnastic exercises,--must march out
   in war, though in battle they are to occupy only the rear-ranks; for
   indeed between men and women there is no other difference than simply
   that the former beget, and the latter bear, and that the former are
   stronger than the latter. [76]

   This family-undermining absolutism of the state has to do, however,
   only with the first two classes, while the producing class are less
   affected by this care of the state for them, and may act with greater
   freedom. The great task toward which all moral community-life is
   directed, namely, to realize the idea of the body politic, by means of
   the moral freedom of the individual, Plato was unable to accomplish
   otherwise than by an unconditional and unquestioning non-permission of
   the free personal self-determination of the individual. Objective
   morality entirely swallows up the subjective. This is, however, not
   peculiar to the view of Plato, but is the Greek tendency in general.
   Plato manifests rather a decided progress toward the development of the
   free moral personality. While in the legislation of Sparta, somewhat as
   in that of the Chinese, the impersonal law held ruthless domination,
   and disallowed of the personal self-determination of the individual in
   very essential things, and while in the democracy of Athens the
   irrational caprice of the masses was the predominant power over the
   individual, in the Platonic state the personal spirit of the wisely
   taught and tested regent attains to domination. From the stand-point of
   heathen antiquity, which knows of no right of the person over against
   the state, but concedes the absolute right of the state over the
   individual, this is a progress; and that which appears therein as
   unnatural and as a harsh one-sidedness indicates not so much the
   untruthfulness of the consequential progress, as rather the
   untruthfulness of the fundamental view common to all the Greeks.

   That the spirit of wisdom and power can be and is to be poured out upon
   all flesh [Joel iii, 1], and that there is no difference before God,
   but that all are equally called to be children of the truth and of
   wisdom, this thought is unknown to entire heathendom, and therefore
   also to the greatest of heathen philosophers. Of a morality absolutely
   valid for all men and without exception, Plato knows nothing; without
   slavery, society does not appear to the Greek as possible; but the
   slave is not called to, nor capable of, free self-determination, and
   hence also not of true morality; and even of the free, only a
   relatively small number are accessible to true wisdom and virtue.
   Capability and incapability for the good are transmitted through
   natural generation from parents to children. [77] The reason for this
   dividing of humanity into a minority who represent reason, and into an
   irrational, passive multitude who require absolute guidance, lies not
   exclusively in the general Greek national consciousness, but also in
   the philosophical world-theory of Plato in general. The primitive
   dualism of existence manifests itself also in humanity. Even as the
   world is not an absolutely pure and perfect expression of the spirit,
   and as the rational spirit is not an absolute power, but has simply to
   shape a formless proto-material not created by it, and to impress
   itself upon it, without however being able entirely to master and
   spiritually transfigure it,--so also in humanity the men of the
   rational spirit, namely, the philosophers, stand over against the
   spiritually dependent and relatively unspiritual multitude, whose
   destination it is to be absolutely guided and shaped by the former.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [30] Especially in his Timaeus.

   [31] Rep., pp. 500, 505 sqq., 613 (Steph.); Theaet., 176; Menon, p. 99;
   Euthyphron, p. 13.

   [32] Gorgias, p. 504 sqq.; Phileb., 64, 65.

   [33] Gorgias, p. 495 sqq.; Phaed., p. 237 sqq.

   [34] Gorgias, 470 sqq., 504-509; Menon, p. 87 sqq.; Rep., pp. 352, 444,
   583, 585; Phil., pp. 40, 64.

   [35] Gorgias, pp. 469 sqq., 477, 527.

   [36] Phil., p. 11 sqq.; Gorgias, p. 494 sqq.

   [37] Gorgias, pp. 464, 500; Menon, p. 87 sqq.

   [38] Menon, p. 87 sqq.

   [39] Prot., pp. 345, 352 sqq., 358; Menon, p. 95; Gorg., p. 468.

   [40] Timaeus, p. 41; Phaedrus, p. 246 sqq.; Rep., p. 514 sqq.

   [41] Tim., p. 46 sqq., 54; Polit., 269; Rep., 611 sqq.; Phaedrus, 246
   sqq.

   [42] Rep., 436 sqq., 589; Gorg., 505.

   [43] Theaet., p. 176.

   [44] Phaedo, p. 63 sqq.

   [45] Ibid., p. 62.

   [46] Symp., 209 sqq.

   [47] Symp., p. 181 sqq., 216 sqq.; Phaedrus, p. 250 sqq.

   [48] Gorg., p. 494; Phaedrus, p. 250; Symp., p. 180 sqq.

   [49] Phaedrus, p. 251 sqq.

   [50] Symp., p. 183.

   [51] Phaedrus, p. 237 sqq.; comp. 230, 242; Symp., p. 183.

   [52] Protag., pp. 332, 349; Rep., p. 428 sqq., 442 sqq., 591.

   [53] Euthyphron, p. 6 sqq.; Gorg., pp. 507, 522.

   [54] Polit., pp. 294, 297.

   [55] Made as early as by Aristophanes, and even by Aristotle: Polit.
   ii, 1-5, 12.

   [56] See K. F. Hermann: Gesch. u. Syst. d. plat. Phil., 1839, i, 67.

   [57] Rep., p. 471 sqq.; 499, 502, 540; Legg., 709.

   [58] Gorg., p. 464.

   [59] Rep., p. 369 sqq., 412 sqq., 435.

   [60] Ibid., pp. 412-415.

   [61] Polit., p. 289 sqq.; Rep., pp. 374, 397.

   [62] Rep., p. 469.

   [63] Polit., p. 292 sqq., 297; Rep., pp. 473, 540.

   [64] Polit., pp. 293-296; Rep., pp. 473, 540.

   [65] Ibid., p. 421.

   [66] Ibid., p. 402 sqq., 424, 519 sqq., 535.

   [67] Ibid., p. 386 sqq.

   [68] Ibid., p. 405 sqq., 409.

   [69] Ibid., pp. 416, 464.

   [70] Ibid., p. 391 sqq., 568.

   [71] Rep., pp. 398, 399.

   [72] Ibid., 449 sqq.

   [73] Ibid, 457.

   [74] Ibid.. 457 sqq.

   [75] Rep., 461.

   [76] Ibid., 451 sqq., 471, 540.

   [77] Rep., 459 sqq., 546.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XV.

   The essential advance of the ethical view of Plato beyond earlier
   theories consists in this, that he emancipated the idea of the good
   from all dependence oil the individual pleasure-feeling, that he
   conceived it as unconditionally valid and lying in God himself, and
   that consequently he regarded morality as God-likeness, as an image of
   God in man, and hence as a phase of the spiritual life constituting an
   essential part of rationality itself, and that in consequence thereof
   he conceived morality as a per se perfectly unitary life, and reduced
   the plurality of moral forms of action to a single principle, namely
   wisdom.--But the characteristically heathen dualism, which (though
   reduced by him to its minimum) is yet not entirely overcome, rendered
   it impossible for him to rise to the full freedom of the personal
   spirit in God and in man, and hence to the full knowledge of the moral
   idea. The real personality is recognized neither in its rights and
   power; nor in its guilt. There remains in all existence, even in the
   most highly developed moral life, a never entirely overcomable residuum
   of an unfree, unspiritual, and morally spirit-trammeling matter, over
   which God himself is not absolutely master. But the limitation of the
   moral lies not in the guilt of the personal spirit, but in the
   unspiritual (and not by it entirely controllable) nature-ground of
   things. The possibility, and therefore also the requirements, of the
   moral are different for the different classes of men, but even the most
   free is not entirely free. The moral freedom of the freest, namely, the
   philosophers, is trammeled by the fetters of a corporeality not in
   harmony with the moral task, that of the rest of men by lack of
   knowledge and of moral capacity, and that of the free Greek citizens,
   additionally, by the power of the rulers as extending beyond the
   expressed laws, and that of the unfree Greek citizens, still
   additionally, by the weight of the entire mass that presses upon them
   from above. From this progressively and descendingly increasing
   unfreedom there is no redemption within the sphere of historical
   reality, but only yon-side of history, through death.--Morality bears,
   neither in its progressive realization nor in its guilty perversion,
   the character of historicalness,--is in no respect a power essentially
   modificatory of universal history, and consciously aiming at such
   modification as its end; and even the ideal state is and remains simply
   the very limited activity-sphere of a special moral virtuosity of the
   governing individual spirit, without a higher world-historical purpose
   in relation to the totality of humanity.--Also the moral consciousness
   itself rises not entirely above the character of the merely individual;
   the connection of the same with the God-consciousness is only of a
   loose character,--is not really based in the same.

   The gain accruing to moral knowledge through the labors of Plato is not
   to be lightly estimated. Light and order are given to the previously
   dark and confused mass. There is henceforth no more question of merely
   isolated and not deeper-grounded moral rules, but morality has acquired
   a firmer basis,--has come here for the first to serious
   self-examination. In fact, Plato occupies himself so predominantly with
   the foundation-]laying thoughts that he does not reach the task of
   carrying out a special doctrine of virtue or duty. In these
   ground-thoughts there are, in so far as is possible from a heathen
   stand-point, some approximations to a Christianly-moral consciousness;
   and they would have been more marked still, had the philosopher only
   succeeded in severing the chain which still held the already floating
   ship fast anchored to the soil of naturalism, namely, by overcoming the
   thought of an unspiritual proto-material as offering a hinderance to
   the personal God,--in a word, had he succeeded in changing the me on
   which lies at the basis of the real world, into an ouk on. But neither
   Plato nor the heathen spirit in general was able to do this. Even
   Aristotle was able only silently to vail the, also to him, troublesome
   thought of dualism, but not scientifically to master it. But wherever
   the rational spirit is not absolutely the ground and life of every
   thing, there also the full idea of morality is not possible; for only
   the thought of the complete mastery of the spirit over every thing
   unspiritual, and the confidence of untrammeled liberty, assure to
   morality foundation-ground and courage.

   Though in the recognition of the limits of freedom there lies an
   approximation to the Christian thought of the natural depravity of the
   human race, yet there lies in it, on the other hand, also an all the
   greater departure from the same; for these limits are not placed in the
   sphere of moral guilt, and hence of moral freedom, but yon-side of
   morality in the sphere of a nature-substratum not to be overcome by the
   moral spirit. The hampering of morality has not sprung from an
   historical act, and hence is not to be overcome by an historical act.
   The consciousness of the moral imperfection of the world, which despite
   all the idealism of the Platonic world-view comes often to painful
   expression, leads not to the thought of a needed redemption. The sage
   emancipates himself, so far as, in view of the imperfection inherent in
   the essence of all existence, it is possible, from the limitations of
   his moral life, and he emancipates others only through philosophical
   instruction and through absolutistic state-guidance, but not through a
   sanctifying communion-grounding historical act.

   In the idea of the state there lies indeed the presentiment,
   that-morality, in its true character, is not a merely individual
   quality, but, on the contrary, has an historical significancy and task,
   but Plato does not rise beyond the mere presentiment; and when he is on
   the very point of passing beyond the limits of a merely individual
   morality, and into the sphere of an historical one, he hesitatingly
   checks his step and turns back. His State forms no link in history, and
   has no history as its goal. As it is not sprung of history, but only of
   the ingenious intellect of a theoretical philosopher, so it is designed
   to be nothing other than the platform upon which the geniality of the
   individual personality of the philosophic regent may find scope for
   itself. Neither people nor ruler are to be the representatives of an
   historical idea; on the contrary, the people is only the passive
   material for the formative hand of the state-artist, and the ruler only
   the executor of a philosophic theory. The state itself is to be only an
   individual organism along-side of many other state-organisms, likewise
   ruled by individual geniality. Hence it must also be only very small;
   even a thousand citizens suffice. The thought of regarding the state as
   a vital member in an historical collective organism, lies very far from
   Plato. Hence, though his state is a moral organic system, yet it has
   no, world-historical character; it has neither behind it an historical
   presupposition, nor before itself an historical goal. That humanity in
   general is a goal of the moral striving, that it may be brought
   together into a moral unity, that a state of peace among all nations is
   to be aimed at--of all this Plato has not the remotest presentiment;
   rather does war appear, even for his ideal state, as in accordance with
   order, and as a necessary matter of course; for in fact Greeks and
   non-Greeks are enemies by nature. [78] Let this state-ideal of the
   profoundest Greek philosopher, as presented without any trammeling from
   a resisting real world, be compared with the Old Testament theocratic
   state as brought to realization among a stubbornly resisting people,
   and which had, from the very beginning, a world-historical goal, and
   which kept in view, and had as the basis of its entire organization,
   the thought of the salvation, and hence also of the peace and unity, of
   entire humanity,--and the result will be very suggestive.

   Most manifestly appears the weakness of Platonic ethics in its relation
   to the religious consciousness. The beautiful conception of the
   God-likeness of the moral man, Plato is not able to carry out; the
   founding of the moral upon the divine will is foreign to him, and must
   have been so, for the Greek knows nothing of a revelation of this will,
   and the philosopher could not invent one; he was only able to refer to
   the rational consciousness of man himself; but to raise this
   consciousness to a universally-extant and valid one Plato did not
   venture to hope, and hence he placed simply the authority and even the
   strong dictatorial power of the philosophers, in the stead of the
   authority of a divine revelation. Also his profoundly-conceived
   God-idea, which far surpassed all previous results of heathenism, Plato
   did not venture to carry out in its entire ethical significancy, and to
   make it consequentially the basis of the moral. It is true he is far
   removed from the folly of certain modern theories, which present
   morality as entirely independent of piety; he in fact makes piety a
   very essential element of all moral life, and derives even from the
   idea of a divine judgment after death, a very potent motive for
   morality; [79] still, piety is with him not the foundation of all the
   virtues, but only a single one of the same, and that too not the first
   one, but only a form of justness; and even such as it is he ventures
   not to refer it directly to the philosophically-recognized God-idea,
   but only to the gods of the popular religion. But as he himself exposes
   the immoral character of the Greek mythology with a noble indignation,
   and on that account, bitterly censures the so highly and
   universally-revered Homer, nay, even would have his poems, for moral
   reasons, banished from his ideal state, [80] it is consequently
   difficult to say how he could justify and require piety toward these
   gods. There remains here a wide-reaching and unbridged chasm in his
   ethical teachings.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [78] Rep., p. 373, 469 seq.

   [79] Gorg., p. 523 sqq.

   [80] Rep., p. 377 sqq., 386 sqq., 598 sqq., 605.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XVI.

   The completer of the Platonic philosophy, and of Greek philosophy in
   general, namely, Aristotle, who in many respects passed independently
   beyond Plato, and who was less idealistic than he, and more devoted to
   the study of sober reality, presented ethics for the first time as a
   special systematically carried-out science,--in connection with Physics
   on the one hand, and with Politics on the other. The greatest possible
   repression of the dualism of the primitive elements of existence, as
   still yet admitted by Plato, leads Aristotle not to a deriving of the
   moral idea from his more fully developed God-idea, but to a still more
   confident grounding of the same in the rational self-consciousness,
   which appears here less clogged than in Plato. A sound psychology
   affords for ethics a scientifically firm basis, but the repression of
   the Platonic antithesis of the ideal and of reality gives it a morally
   feebler character.

   Of the three different presentations of Aristotelian ethics, only the
   Ethica Nicomacheia (that is, ad Nicomachum) is, in the eyes of the
   trustworthy results of criticism, [81] to be regarded as a genuine work
   of Aristotle, though probably not prepared by himself for publication,
   but only sketched for personal use in his lectures; while the Eudemic
   ethics (Eudemia) is very probably a work of Eudemus, a disciple of
   Aristotle, and is derived mostly from the first-mentioned work, with
   some original additions,--the so-called large ethics (megala) being a
   digest from both. In his Politics, which Aristotle separates from
   ethics, though as subordinate thereto, morality is contemplated in its
   complete realization in the state as the moral community-life. Hence
   this work is evidently to be reckoned to his Ethics, and to be regarded
   as its carrying-out.

   Aristotle gives to ethics its name--which it has ever since borne--and
   a scientific form which served as a model for the entire Christian
   Middle Ages. His comprehensive Ethica, consisting of ten books,
   contains indeed many excellent thoughts, and, above all, gives evidence
   of a close observation of reality, and in this respect is by far more
   sober and less idealistic than Plato; as a system, however, it is still
   very defective, and contains chasms on very essential points. Only
   relatively few general thoughts are really scientifically developed; by
   far the larger part is treated rather empirically and aphoristically;
   Aristotle expressly renounces all attempts at scientific strictness of
   demonstration and development, for the reason that, in his view, the
   subject does not admit of this, but only of probability. Hence the form
   of presentation--in direct contrast to Plato's uniformly spirited and
   either scientifically or poetically inspired style,--sinks not
   unfrequently to dry common-sense observations, and lingers for the most
   part entirely within the sphere of the popular grasp. [82]

   Aristotle does not rise to the full idea of the absolute God--an idea
   which is attained to only in the thought of creation--but he halts
   immediately before reaching it; he pushes, however, still further into
   the back-ground the primitive antithesis between God and the not truly
   real proto-material of things, which was already very much enfeebled in
   Plato, without, however, entirely overcoming it. He is loth to admit a
   primitive antithesis of being, but he also fails to pronounce the word
   which alone leads beyond it,--the word with which the Old Testament
   begins. The world is in his view not merely the best possible one, but
   it is the absolutely perfect expression of the will of the rational
   spirit. Hence he gets rid also of that notion of Plato, of an evil that
   pervades all real existence, and especially humanity. All reality is,
   on the contrary, good; also the corporeality of man is no longer an
   imprisonment inflicted for a previous guilt, but it is the normal organ
   of the soul. And of an historically-originated depravity, Aristotle has
   no notion whatever. It is true, the great mass of the populace are so
   qualified by nature that they have no inner tendency toward virtue, but
   are guided by sensuous impulses and fear (Eth. Nic., x, 10), but the
   better-gifted free-born man is by nature thoroughly good, and hence has
   in his own reason the pure fountain of moral knowledge. On this
   presupposition Aristotle can have perfectly free and confident scope on
   the basis of the subjective spirit; and notwithstanding that lie
   conceives the idea of God as the rational absolute spirit, more
   profoundly than Plato, still he connects the study of nature and of the
   moral spirit much less closely with the God-idea than does Plato. From
   the very circumstance that he finds in the real world a much more pure
   expression of the divine thought than Plato, he is enabled to confide
   himself more unquestioningly to reality, to merge himself trustingly
   into the real world, to read in its traces the words of divine truth;
   and he has also much less need of the supernatural element, which,
   because of the God-opposed undivine substratum of the universe, was
   highly necessary in the system of Plato.

   Hence in Aristotle morality is entirely rooted in the soil of the
   subject; it appears less as the holy will of God to man, than as the
   absolutely normal essence of the spiritual life, as called-for by the
   rational human spirit itself. While there was in Plato at least the
   foreshadowing of the truth, that the goal of the moral striving lies in
   God-likeness and in the pleasure of God in man, and hence bears an
   objective character, in Aristotle the subjective character comes
   decidedly into the fore-ground, namely, in the thought that this goal
   is the personal well-being of the moral subject. In Plato the highest
   and truest is and remains an object of the yon-side, an absolutely
   ideal somewhat that is never perfectly presented in reality, and never
   entirely to be attained to,--in Aristotle all ideality becomes also
   real, and all that is true a quality of the this-side, and that, too,
   not as brought into reality from without, but as wrought out from
   within. The real world is also in moral respects a perfect expression
   of the idea, and no longer a mere feeble impression thereof,--is the
   original, is an organism that potentially unfolds itself with its own
   inherent power. Hence we find no longer any longing and thirsting after
   a better and ideal world, no poetical contemplating, no painful
   consciousness that the spirit is fettered and bound in bands of
   unfreedom by an unspiritual substratum of the universe; with Aristotle
   life has no longer a tragical character; from his world-theory there
   spring no longer any dark and mysterious tragedies; his theory is a
   quieting, genial one; and with the falling away of the longings of
   unsatisfaction, falls away also poetry; the sober prose of the spirit
   as contenting itself with the world as it is, takes its place. And in
   this very contentedness there lies a greater antithesis to the
   Christian world-theory than is presented in the Platonic consciousness
   of an inner antagonism of existence. The rather mystical
   contemplativeness of Plato gives place to a calculatingly rationalistic
   view.

   The psychological examination of the presuppositions of ethics, is much
   more largely and deeply carried out by Aristotle than by Plato, and
   constitutes the bright point in his philosophy; but that his ethics
   has, in fact, predominantly only a psychological character, and is
   rooted neither in religion nor in history, is its weak side. While
   Plato makes at least an effort to give to morality an ideal character
   transcending reality, the ethics of Aristotle rather confines itself
   with unquestioning satisfaction to the sphere of the reality of man,
   without even raising the query, whether this reality is in a state of
   normal purity, or on the contrary of deterioration; and it is
   characteristic of their respective views of the moral, that the thought
   of personal immortality which stands forth so prominently in Plato, and
   which gives to the moral striving its proper tone and consecration,
   retires in Aristotle into a very dubious back-ground. In fact, he
   directly declares it as absurd (atopon) to affirm, that no one is happy
   until after he has died (Eth. Nic., i, c. 11, 13); he knows only of a
   morality of the this-side. And he expressly declares death as the
   greatest of all evils (phoberotaton ho thanatos); "for it is the end of
   every thing; and for the deceased there appears to be no longer either
   any good or any evil" (Eth. Nic., iii, 9), and hence death robs man of
   the highest goods (iii, 12).
     __________________________________________________________________

   [81] Spengel, in his Abhandl. d. Kgl. Baierschen Akad., philos.-philol.
   Klasse, 1841, iii, 2; 1846, p. 171 sqq. Brandis: Aristoteles, 1851, i,
   p. 111 sqq.; ii, p. 1555 sqq.

   [82] Compare Biese: Philos. des Arist., 1838 sqq., 2 vols.,--a studious
   presentation, though not sufficiently digested philosophically.
   Brandis: Arist., 2 Abth., 1857 (especially pp. 1335-1682); profound but
   too detailed. Trendelenburg: Histr. Bietr. z. Phil., ii, 1855, p. 352
   sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XVII.

   All striving has a goal, and this goal is for the rational striving a
   good, and hence the highest goal is the highest good; and this highest
   good is a perfect felt well-being, which is not a merely passive state,
   but a perfect active life of the rational spirit; and hence it consists
   essentially in virtue, which in its turn includes per se in itself the
   feeling of happiness.--Virtue itself is either thought-virtue or
   ethical virtue, according as it relates to reason or to sensuousness.
   Thought-virtue is acquired by learning, ethical virtue by practice. As
   the good consists in harmony, and hence in a proper measure, hence the
   non-good consists in a too-much or a too-little. Hence virtue is always
   the observance of the proper mean between two unvirtues. The
   presupposition of all moral action is the perfect freedom of the will,
   a doctrine to which Aristotle,--in opposition to the view of Socrates
   that the knowledge of the right necessarily leads to its
   practice,--holds distinctly fast.

   The rational spirit is not a reposing or merely passively moved entity,
   but an activity. The thinking spirit is at the same time a
   volitionating, an acting, and a working spirit. All volitionating aims
   at something as an end, namely, in all cases, that which appears to
   him, who volitionates, as a good. Hence the good (to agathon) is
   primarily that whereon the striving is directed in view to its
   attainment. Now there are many and different ends and goods, whereof
   some are related to others merely as co-adjutant, as means to higher
   ends and goods. But if the striving is a rational one, that is, a sure
   and consistent one, then there must be a last end, a highest good,
   which is not a mere means to another end, but which is aimed at for its
   own sake, and for the sake of which alone we aim at all other goods,
   and which is hence an absolutely perfect end, a toleion, which has its
   end, to telos, within itself. Honor, riches, knowledge, etc., are
   goods, though they are not sought for their own sake, but always for a
   higher purpose to which they are but the means,--are but the partial
   goods of one perfect good; and this good is the perfection of one's own
   existence and life, the well-being, eb(atpovia, that is, the vitality
   of the life as perfect in itself, and as being its own end,--zoes
   teleias energeia. This well-being is not sought in the interest of
   another good, but for its own sake, and is hence the highest good
   (Nic., i, c. 1 sqq.; comp. Eud., i, 1). This "eudaemonia" is by no
   means one and the same with our notion of happiness, but includes the
   same in itself. Happiness is only the one, the subjective phase,
   namely, the happiness-feeling that is connected with this
   "eudaemonia,'" whereas the "eudaemnonia" itself has essentially and
   primarily an objective significancy, namely, the being well-conditioned
   or blessed, the possession of the all-sidedly perfect life. Hence it is
   not without meaning when a special examination is entered upon as to
   whether the pleasure-feeling is included in the "eudaemonia" (Nic., i,
   c. 9).--The good is accordingly by no means a mere idea never entirely
   realizable in the this-side, as with Plato, but it is a full reality
   already in the present life,--finds this reality in the actual being
   and life of the sage; it is not a merely abstract general something;
   but a definite quality inherent in individual existence; not a yon-side
   something transcending all special goods, but one that is realized in
   the totality itself of these goods (Nic., i, 4). This totality,
   however, is not a mere sum, for were this the case the highest good
   might be increased by some newly added good, but it is a unitary whole,
   whereof the different goods are but the special forms (Nic., i, 5).

   Well-being as a purely human good is not mere life, for life exists
   also with plants and animals, nor yet the mere sentient life, for this
   exists also with animals; but it is the rationally-active life, and
   hence the perfectly active life of the rational spirit,--is not mere
   being and determinatedness, but a self-determining, an energeia,--is
   not merely a good, but works the good on and on (Nic., i, 6, 7). This
   implies of itself that the highest good, well-being, is not outside of
   or merely subsequent to virtute; on the contrary, virtue itself
   constitutes a part of the essence of the highest good, which in fact
   consists in activity, though it is not per se the whole highest good;
   for to perfect well-being belongs also the happiness-feeling, the
   feeling of pleasure, which results upon the successful issuing of the
   virtuous activity. Hence this happiness-feeling is not a something
   independent of virtue, and existing outside of and along-side of it; on
   the contrary the virtuous life already contains happiness as its
   necessary constituent; for only he is virtuous who does the good
   gladly, who has joy in virtue. In so far, therefore, one may indeed say
   that the highest good consists in the practicing of virtue, and of all
   the virtues (Nic., i, 7-9). However, Aristotle admits that to perfect
   well-being belong also such goods as are not already directly given in
   virtue itself, such as are even independent thereof, as, e. g., earthly
   affluence, good descent, beauty, health, a happy close of life, etc.
   (Nic., i, 9-11). With this very true concession to the natural
   consciousness as unprejudiced by any one-sided system, the
   consequentiality of Aristotle's ethical system is manifestly broken.
   For if there are real goods, and conditions of the highest good, which
   are independent of moral perfection, and if consequently the truly
   virtuous man may possibly be without the highest good, then there
   prevails no moral world-order, and morality is deprived of its
   assurance; and as it is a legitimate goal to strive for the highest
   good, hence it follows that man must strive after still other
   possessions outside of morality, and which do not depend thereon, and
   which he can consequently acquire only in extra-moral and hence immoral
   ways. But as Aristotle does not recognize any guilty corruption of
   human nature, hence the above concession involves him in an absolutely
   insolvable dilemma, in a violent contradiction with his own system. He
   prefers, however, to be in contradiction with himself, rather than, in
   the interests of his system, to deny manifest experience, to the true
   understanding of which he does not possess the key.

   But wherein now consists virtue, and hence the most essential element
   of well-being? In man there is a two-phased life, sensuousness and
   reason, which are often in conflict with each other. Sensuousness, in
   so far as it is not purely vegetative, namely, the nutritive activity
   of the physical life, but sensuous desire, may be and should be
   governed by the reason. Virtue assumes accordingly a twofold form; in
   the first place it relates to the proper condition of reason itself,
   and in the second place to the proper condition of the sensuous nature,
   as consisting in the subordination of the same to reason; in the first
   sense it is thought-virtue, in the second ethical virtue (arete
   dianoetike and ethike). The former is mainly wisdom; the latter
   includes temperateness, liberality, etc. That the former belongs among
   the virtues, appears from this, that we praise it in a person as his
   merit (Nic., i, 13). The word ethical as applied here to virtue is
   taken in its narrower sense, as relating to practical habits. It is
   clear at a glance, that this division of the virtues is entirely
   inadequate, unless the one or the other class of virtues is taken in a
   wider sense than is strictly admissible. For there are purely spiritual
   virtues, e. g., humility, truthfulness, fidelity, thankfulness, which
   are in no way connected with sensuousness, and are yet not intellectual
   or thought-virtues. But if we take wisdom, as in Plato, in the wide
   sense of an inner harmony of the rational soul in general, then very
   manifestly the ethical virtues which consist in the controlling of the
   sensuous nature, would not be co-ordinate but subordinate thereto.--The
   thought-virtue can be taught or learned, especially by abundance of
   life-experience; on the contrary, the ethical virtues are acquired by
   frequent repetitions of the same actions, that is, by habituation,--are
   essentially facilities in acting, acquired by practice. By nature we
   have no virtue, but only the possibility and capability thereof; and
   the capability becomes a real virtue only by practice and habit. Hence
   virtuous actions are primarily not the consequence, but the ground and
   presupposition of virtue. It is only by repeatedly acting virtuously
   that man becomes virtuous (Nic., ii, 1, 2). How it is possible to act
   virtuously before one has virtue, and what motive man can have to act
   virtuously before he is virtuous, Aristotle asks indeed, and he
   recognizes the difficulty of the question, but he does not solve it.
   The indication that we possess virtue is this, that in our virtuous
   acting we feel also delight. Virtue is neither a passion, such as
   anger, fear, love, hatred, etc., because the passions are natural
   movements not springing from our will, nor bearing as yet per se any
   moral character, nor is it a faculty, for this is given by nature, but
   it is a facility (exis), that is, the moral manner of our bearing
   toward the passions; and indeed it is that particular facility whereby
   man becomes a good man, and his work a good work (Nic., ii, 5). [83]
   This is of course as yet a very insignificant and purely formal
   definition. In order to give it some contents, Aristotle resorts to
   this course: In every matter there is only a single form of the right,
   but manifold forms of the wrong,--even as in regard to a mark there are
   many directions-for shooting by it, but only one for hitting it, for
   which reason also the right is much more difficult to find and to do
   than is the unright. The unright in a manner of acting is either a
   defect or an excess; the right is the correct measure, and hence the
   mean between the two. Hence virtue is (and this is its complete
   definition) a freely-willed facility in observing the middle-way
   (mesotes) as correctly determined for us by reason and by the judgment
   of the judicious (Nic., ii, 6; iii, 8; comp. Eud., ii, 3). [That in
   this connection only the ethical virtues are meant, appears from the
   entire context. But by this circumstance the general definition of
   virtue becomes again more unclear.] The middle-way is in all things the
   best. Virtue aims consequently not at a mean between good and evil, but
   at the best, and the best is the mean between too much and too little.
   Thus, bravery is the mean between cowardice and fool-hardiness;
   temperateness, the mean between dissoluteness and insensibility to
   pleasure-sensations; liberality the mean between prodigality and
   niggardliness; love of honor stands mid-way between unbounded
   ambitiousness of fame and an absolute indifference to the opinion of
   others; evenness of temper, between irascibility and stupidity, etc.
   (Nic., ii, 7). From this it follows that any two mutually-opposed
   faults stand to each other in a much more violent contrast, than does
   either of the two to the corresponding virtue (Nic., ii, 8).

   It is very manifest that this merely quantitative distinguishing of
   good and evil does not touch the essence of morality at all, and in its
   practical application undermines all certainty of the moral judgment,
   which is thereby transferred from the sphere of the conscience into
   that of the calculating understanding. In this view evil' is not
   qualitatively, that is, essentially, different from the good, but it
   differs only in number and degree; hence there is between the two no
   radical antithesis, but only a gradual transition; in fact the
   transition from one vice to the opposite one passes necessarily through
   the corresponding virtue. Aristotle himself becomes conscious of the
   defectiveness of his definition of virtue; he concedes that there are
   also actions and tempers in regard to which the notion of the too-much
   or too-little is not at all applicable, as, e. g., delight in
   misfortune, envy, murder, theft, adultery, which are all per se and in
   their essence wrong, and do not simply become so by rising to a certain
   height; there can be, for example, no permissible degree of adultery,
   and so of the other cases (Nic., ii, 7). And if notwithstanding this he
   is still unwilling to discard his definition of virtue, this only
   evinces the utter perplexity of the theorist; for by making this
   concession, his definition is completely undermined, inasmuch as it is
   thereby implied that the difference between good and evil is not a
   quantitative but a qualitative one. And the matter is made much worse
   still by the express admission, that virtue is often not in the actual
   middle between the two opposite-standing faults, but stands nearer to
   the one extreme than to the other,--that bravery, e. g., stands nearer
   to fool-hardiness than to cowardice, liberality nearer to prodigality
   than to niggardliness, etc., and that of two errors the one is usually
   less hurtful than the other (Nic., ii, 8),--for by this admission not
   only is the ground-principle entirely overthrown, but also all
   possibility of a certain judgment as to morality is cut off. By wlhat
   rule is one to find in the diagonal the correct virtue-point, if this
   point is an eccentric one? Aristotle himself feels the great difficulty
   which results from charging the moral consciousness of the individual
   with the duty of such a calculation;;and he knows no better counsel to
   give than that given by Circe to Ulysses in regard to his sailing
   between Scylla and Charybdis, namely, to steer nearer the less
   dangerous Scylla,--to go nearer the extreme that is less remote from
   the mean virtue, than to the other, and to incur the risk of the less
   fault of the two; and in order most easily to find the middle-way, one
   must sometimes deviate (apoklinein) on the side of excess; and
   sometimes on the side of defectiveness (Nic., ii, 9). More patently
   than this, Aristotle could hardly possibly have confessed the
   insufficiency of his definition of virtue.

   Morality presupposes the freedom of the will; only that which takes
   place from free self-determination is morally imputed to a man, is
   praised or blamed. Virtue belongs exclusively to the sphere of freedom;
   that is unfree which is either forced or which is done from ignorance;
   passionate movements of feeling, such as anger or sensuous desire, do
   not destroy the freedom of the will, for man can and should control
   them by reason; even in case of moral violence, by the excitement of
   fear, etc., the freedom of volition remains; involuntary is only the
   forced action which takes place with inner resistance (Nic., iii, 1-3;
   comp. Eud., ii, 6). From willingness as the more comprehensive notion,
   the resolution is, as the narrower, to be distinguished, namely, the
   will as deliberately directed to a definite and possible-regarded goal
   (Nic., iii, 4, 5). A resolution is free also in regard to the
   recognized good or evil. Every resolution is, it is true, directed to a
   good,--with the sage always to the truly good, but with others to that
   which to them seems to be good; from this it does not follow, however,
   that men always sin simply from error, and that where there is a real
   knowledge of the good, the resolution must necessarily be directed to
   this, as is taught by Socrates and Plato. Such a view is contradicted
   even by the general moral judgment both of individuals and of the
   State, which makes man, as soon as he has come to understanding,
   responsible for all the evil which he does, and imputes it to him as
   guilt. It is- true, many do evil simply from the error of their moral
   judgment or from the worthlessness of their character, but both that
   error and this worthlessness are their own fault, and do not excuse
   them; in fact man can even purposely do what he has recognized as evil,
   namely, by inquiring not after the good, but only after the agreeable;
   and the opinion that no one does evil voluntarily and consciously,
   conflicts with undeniable experience and with the essence of
   will-freedom (Nic., iii, 6, 7; v, 12; vii, 2, 3). In this connection
   Aristotle makes the significant and almost surprising observation, that
   the character which has become evil by guilt can just as little he
   thrown off again at mere volition, as the person who has made himself
   sick by his own fault, can become well again at mere volition; once
   become evil or sick, it stands no longer within his discretion to cease
   to be so; a stone when once cast cannot be caught back from its flight;
   and so is it also with the character which has become evil. This
   thought might have led further; Aristotle, however, does not follow it
   out, and he leaves unanswered the closely related question, as to how,
   then, a reformation in character is possible. Moreover, he does not
   concede to evil any other than an individual effect,--knows nothing of
   any natural solidarity of evil in self-propagating, morally-degenerated
   races. Every man, at least the. free-born Greek, is, on the contrary,
   perfectly good by nature, and the sensuous nature with which every one
   is born has, in reason, its perfectly sufficient counterpoise.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [83] Comp. Trendelenburg: Histor. Beitr., i, pp. 95, 174.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XVIII.

   In carrying out his system into details Aristotle treats first the
   ethical virtues, and as their chief representatives: courage,
   temperateness, liberality, magnanimity (from which the love of honor
   is, as of a lower quality, to be distinguished), the proper control of
   temper, and, as predominantly social virtues: amiability, truthfulness,
   readiness in good-natured wit, shame, but especially justness and, as
   closely-related therewith, fairness or equity. As intellectual or
   thought-virtues are examined, more largely, prudence and wisdom; and
   their significancy is more closely defined than in Socrates and Plato.
   As considered under another phase, namely, in respect to the degree of
   the moral power virtualizing itself in the doing of the good, the moral
   character is distinguished, into virtuousness in the narrower sense,
   into temperateness, and into heroic or divine virtue.

   The carrying-out of the ethical matter proper, though rich in
   suggestive thoughts and observations, is devoid of a general scientific
   development from one central principle; nor do we find as yet any
   strict organic classification. The Platonic division of the virtues (§
   14), though made the basis, is neither strictly observed nor further
   developed. Differing from Plato, Aristotle does not first discuss
   wisdom as the root of all the other virtues, but, on the contrary,
   manliness or courage (andria) which stands mid-way between fool-hardy
   daring and cowardice. It relates not to all the evils that are to be
   assailed, but essentially to death; and also not to every mortal
   danger, but more especially to the most honorable of these dangers,
   danger upon the battle-field, and besides also to mortal danger by sea
   and in sickness (Nic., iii, 9-12). This limitation, though explainable
   from the warlike national character, is not based in the moral idea;
   and for courage in the full sense of the word in the face of all evils,
   Aristotle finds no place at all in his system of virtue. The motive to
   courage is not the thought of an eternal crown,--for death is for the
   virtuous man the most fearful of all evils, for precisely for him life
   has the greatest worth,--but this motive is only a delight in duty and
   in the beautiful (Nic., iii, 12).--The second virtue is temperateness
   or moderation (sophrosune), which consists in the observance of the
   right mean in regard to sensuous pleasure, even as, on the other hand,
   courage relates to evil, that is, pain. The extending of this virtue to
   other than the sensuous, and that too the lowest sensuous feelings of
   taste and of sensibility, is expressly disallowed; and hence there
   remain moral phenomena, both virtues and vices, which find no place
   whatever in the classes of virtue admitted by Aristotle. As to the
   question, by what rule the proper measure is to be judged, we are not
   answered; virtue is simply placed in the middle between the
   immoderation which surrenders itself passionately to sensuous pleasure,
   and which sinks man to the brute, and an entire desirelessness or
   insensibility to sensuous pleasure, which, however, only rarely or in
   fact strictly speaking never exists,--for then man would be no longer
   human (Nic., iii, 13-15); in which case the finding of the virtuous
   mean between the two faults would be a rather difficult
   matter.--Liberality or generosity, as the third virtue, is the
   observance of the middle-way in the use of property. It gives
   cheerfully, out of delight in the beauty of the action, but only to
   such as deserve it; that it rests on love is not stated. As especially
   important, is extensively discussed, liberality for public and
   generally useful ends, for theatrical entertainments, for popular
   diversions, for the feasting of the collective citizenship, for the
   outfitting of war-ships, and for the keeping up of a state of luxury in
   the interest of the dignity of the person,--the virtue of megaloprepeia
   (Nic., iv, 1-6). Of the moral dangers of riches for the moral
   disposition itself, aside from the two errors of prodigality and
   niggardliness, nothing is said; on the contrary, riches is regarded as
   a high and much to be desired good.--Magnanimity (megalopsuchia)
   belongs only to men of high gifts, and is, as opposed to empty
   pretense, on the one hand, and to self-disparaging pusillanimousness,
   on the other, the proper respecting of self, the moral pride of the
   great man,--while the proper self-respect of the ordinary person is not
   magnanimity, but only modesty; the former virtue stands higher than the
   latter. Only he can be magnanimous who is adorned with all the virtues,
   that is, the truly great man; and he puts this virtue into practice, in
   that he strives after true honor, that is, after the esteem of the
   great and noble, as the highest of external goods, while he disdains
   the honor and reproach which come from unimportant men. But proper
   magnanimity is only possible when, with the inner virtue-merit there is
   associated also an outwardly happy and eminent condition, such as rich
   possessions, a highborn family, power, etc., for this brings honor;
   hence the magnanimous man will seek, though not primarily and chiefly,
   after these things, not so much for their own sake, as simply for the
   honor associated with them. In less great souls the virtue of
   magnanimity gives place to the love of honor which looks only to
   inferior degrees of honor, and which holds the mean between immoderate
   ambition and pusillanimity (Nic., iv, 7-10).--The virtue of equanimity
   or gentleness, (praotes) occupies the mean between irascibility and
   phlegmatic insensibility, and hence consists in the proper tempering of
   anger, and is practically of difficult observance. Not to indulge in
   anger at all is stolidity, and not to defend one's self against
   offenses is dishonorable and cowardly. It is advisable not to repress
   wrath, but to let it come to expression; the indulging of vengeance
   stills wrath. Aristotle regards revenge as a something entirely
   legitimate, and simply warns against over-indulgence. More specific
   limitations of this dangerous virtue he regards as impracticable,
   holding that feeling decides this best in each particular case, and
   that minor deviations from the right mean are here not to be censured
   (Nic., iv, 11).

   Without any strict logical connection, Aristotle now passes to treat of
   the social virtues. Between the vices of a fawning seeking for
   approbation and a yielding to the wishes of every one, on the one hand,
   and an unsocial abruptness, on the other, stands the virtue of friendly
   and polite amiability, a virtue which (in distinction from personal
   love) relates not to definite loved persons, but to all with whom we
   come into association, and does not rest on love (Nic., iv, 12).
   Between vain-boastfulness and ironical self-disparagement, lies the
   virtue of truthfulness of discourse, especially in relation to the
   speaker himself, in other words, straightforwardness and honesty. But
   inasmuch as too strong self-praise is more offensive to others than
   self-disparagement, hence it is advisable to speak rather too humbly
   than too highly of one's self (Nic., iv, 13). A third social virtue
   relates to social intercourse and jesting, and is, in contrast to
   buffoonery and excessive irony, on the one hand, and sardonic
   moroseness on the other, cheerful facetiousness and gracious aptness in
   wit (eutrapelia) (Nic., iv, 14; comp. Eud., iii, 7). Aristotle speaks
   here merely incidentally of shame, that is, the fear of disgrace, which
   is indeed not per se a virtue, but only an instinct; it becomes a
   virtue only under special circumstances, namely, when a mature person
   has really done something of which he must feel ashamed, and also in
   youth, because here the passions are violent, and shame is a check
   against them. The morally matured man, however, is never to have
   occasion to feel ashamed, for he is not by any means to think of
   himself as being so constituted as to be capable of doing anything
   shameful (Nic., iv, 15). Of the true moral significancy of shame, which
   is so suggestively indicated in Gen. iii, 7, Aristotle has no
   conception.

   The most important social virtue, the one which in fact includes all
   the others in so far as they relate to our conduct toward others, is
   justness, which consists in respecting the laws of the State and the
   rights of others, so that every man is treated as he deserves and as he
   has a right to claim. In a narrower sense justness relates only to the
   "mine" and the "thine," to property and earnings. The principle of the
   just mean is here of difficult application, as there is manifestly no
   immoral form of conduct which can contain too great an observance of
   the rights of others (Nic. v, 1-14.)

   Related to justness, and belonging thereto in the wider sense of the
   word, is the subordinate virtue of equitableness or fairness. It
   accomplishes--in contrast to the rigid observance of the letter of the
   civil law--true justness outside of the requirements of the law, which
   can in fact only express the general, and cannot apply to every
   individual case; hence it is an improving and perfecting of the law, in
   that in the interest of justness one does not in certain cases insist
   on a right which the outward law concedes (Nic., v, 15). Against his
   own self man cannot, properly speaking, do injustice; even suicide, as
   being voluntary, is not an injustice to one's self, but only to the
   State.

   In respect to the intellectual or thought-virtues, of which only
   prudence and wisdom are more especially treated (Nic., vi, 1-13), the
   thought of the middle-way is of course no longer applicable; they do
   not themselves observe the just mean, rather is it they themselves that
   discover it. Prudence or sensibleness (phronesis, more than prudence as
   the word is usually taken, but also not synonymous with reasonableness,
   as Brandis would have it) is the spiritual facility of making in each
   particular case suitable practical decisions in regard to what is good
   or evil for the actor. Wisdom (sophia) is of a higher character, and
   given to prudence its right basis. It is the proper knowledge of the
   ultimate grounds of true knowledge, and the deriving of the same from
   these grounds, and hence refers to the immutable, whereas prudence has
   to do with the mutable and transitory; wisdom relates to the
   universally valid; prudence, to that which is befitting for the
   individual; and hence prudence is the specific practical application of
   wisdom, which latter expresses rather the moral idea per se. Hence
   prudence or sensibleness is the applying of moral wisdom in the ethical
   virtues. Wisdom and prudence do not constitute the whole of virtue
   itself, as Socrates affirms, but they are, as orthos logos, the
   necessary presupposition of all the other virtues.

   Aristotle passes now to another manner of considering the moral
   bearing, namely, not, as thus far, in reference to its material
   quality, but in reference to the degree of moral energy therein
   virtualized. Over against the threefold gradation of the immoral that
   is to be distinguished in this respect, namely, viciousness,
   incontinence, and brutality,--wherein the moral consciousness and the
   moral will are either badly constituted or feeble, or entirely
   wanting,--stands the threefold gradation of the moral, namely,
   virtuousness in the narrower sense, continence, and heroic or divine
   virtue; the latter makes man entirely like the gods, but is attained to
   only seldom; but equally seldom is also the opposite extreme,
   brutality. Incontinence is a weakness of the moral will, for the person
   knows that his desires are evil, nevertheless he follows them, and
   hence sins (what Socrates declares as impossible) consciously and from
   passionateness. On the contrary, he who is continent or firm in
   character acts constantly in harmony with his rational insight. The
   feeble and hesitative manner in which Aristotle attempts to answer the
   perplexing questions which present themselves in this connection,
   indicates very clearly, how little knowledge he has of the perversity
   of a corrupted heart (Nic., vii, 1-7). While Socrates covers the
   majority of sins with ignorance and error, and thus palliates their
   guilt, Aristotle, who recognizes the manifold contradiction between
   knowledge and volition, goes so far in the other direction, as to admit
   inborn faults and passions, and even inborn unnatural vices, and to
   find therein a degree of excuse for the deviating of those who are thus
   afflicted, from better knowledge; "the fact of having such
   proclivities, lies outside of the sphere of the morally evil;" and when
   man is dominated by such evil proclivities, it is only in an improper
   sense that his conduct is to be called immoral (Nic., vii, 6). How such
   an innateness of evil proclivities is to be explained1 we are not
   informed. The proclivity to anger especially is to be judged very
   mildly,--there. lies in it even something rational, as in contrast to
   the sensuous desires, and at all events no presumption; and its
   justification lies in its universal prevalence. In general it is
   excusable to follow one's natural proclivities, and this all the more
   so the more they are universal (Nic., vii, 7). The incontinent are not
   properly speaking vicious, but only similar to the vicious, and for the
   reason that in them there is no evil purpose (Nic.. vii, 9.)

   After an extended consideration of friendship as a special field of the
   moral activity, Aristotle concludes with an extensive discussion of
   pleasure (hedone) and well-being (eudaimonia) as results of virtuous
   conduct. Pleasure is not identical with the good,--is not the highest
   good, but many kinds of pleasure are goods, and hence to be aimed at,
   while others are not so. Pleasure is the result of a power-exertion in
   coming to its goal, and hence is an attendant of life-development per
   se; now, according as this power-exertion is good or evil, so is also
   the pleasure attending it, and only the pleasure which is connected
   with an exercise of virtue is true pleasure (Nic., x, 1-5). Well-being
   is not a mere condition, but is essentially life-activity, and indeed
   such a life-activity as is not a purposeless play, but a rational
   practicing of virtue. Now as cognition is the highest spiritual
   exertion of power, hence the acquiring of the knowledge of wisdom is
   coincident with the highest well-being; all other activity is less
   constant and permanent, less free and independent,--rests less upon
   itself and has its end less within itself. Hence the practically-acting
   life stands only in secondary importance, as in fact also the life and
   the happiness of the gods, or of God, consists not in such an
   outward-working activity, but only in reflection. In third importance
   stand the outward goods of fortune: health, riches, etc. Now, though
   such goods are indeed also necessary to well-being, still they are
   needed only in a moderate degree, and the sage can be happy even with
   relatively small goods of fortune; for he who develops and perfects the
   thinking spirit with great zeal is the most beloved of the gods, and is
   the happiest, for he is most like the gods (Nic., x, 6-9). Herein this
   ethical system returns to its starting-point, though we cannot say that
   this return results from a natural and organic development. Indeed, the
   fact that wellbeing is indicated as the highest good, at the outset of
   the ethical development, and that now it presents itself in the end as
   the result of the moral life-activity, would seem to present an
   excellently rounded development-course of the system; but Aristotle
   essentially disturbs this organic development of his thoughts by his
   preference (surprising, in view of his previous discussions) of the
   contemplative life to the outwardly-active life, and for the assumed
   reason that the former, as being the truly divine life, far transcends
   the latter; and when he is at the very point of making the transition
   from merely individual morality into the consideration of the moral
   community-life,--which rests quite predominantly on the
   practically-working activity of all the individuals and is primarily
   the result thereof,--he throws this activity with a strange disdain
   into the background, behind the purely intellectual activity of the
   unsocial individual spirit. In this connection Plato is at least more
   consequential, in that he by no means directs the philosopher to the
   merely contemplative life, but concedes to him political domination as
   his peculiar right and his highest calling. It is evidently no very
   virtue-encouraging thought, that the highest well-being should be
   one-sidedly placed in an activity, for which only the fewest virtues
   are requisite.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XIX.

   The idea, already so strongly emphasized by Plato, of a moral
   community-life, is developed by Aristotle further still, and more
   judiciously, without his being able, however, fully to divest it of the
   one-sidedness of the general Graeco-heathen world-view. The idea of
   humanity as a moral whole is entirely wanting to him also; individual
   morality has absolute, predominance. The family is indeed somewhat more
   highly conceived of than in Plato, because the reality of life is more
   impartially observed, but yet it is not recognized as the basis of the
   moral whole, but only as a subordinate manifestation-form of morality
   as bearing upon the moral community-life. Wedlock-love and family-love
   in general is only a special form of friendship as expressive of
   individual morality. Friendship, however, is not so much a duty as an
   expression of the striving after individual well-being,--bears not an
   objective but a subjective character.--But also friendship forms
   neither the basis nor the transition to a moral community-life; the
   community-life, on the contrary, is based directly upon the laws as
   expressive of the moral idea, and as constituting the state, the task
   of which is, under the guidance of the morally higher-gifted, to tutor
   and direct the great multitude of the morally-immature, and to
   habituate them to the good.

   To the examination of friendship Aristotle devotes two entire books of
   his Ethics, in great detail. Friendship is indeed virtue, but not a
   special virtue along-side of the others; it is rather a special
   manifestation-form of virtue in general. Its definition is more
   comprehensive than is usual in modern times, and includes in itself
   love in general, but it is by no means identical with the Christian
   idea of love; it has not an objective and general, but only a
   subjective and individual significancy; it loves not for the sake of
   the loved one, but for the happiness of the lover,--seeks primarily not
   the weal of the other, but its own, loves not man as man, but only this
   or that person according to individual election, to the exclusion of
   others. The idea of general love to man, as a duty, is to Aristotle
   also as well as to the Greek in general, utterly foreign. The highest
   attainment consists in true friendship to one or to a few chosen ones.
   Toward the rest of mankind there is shown only a very feeble and
   luke-warm good-will, a justness and fairness which respect essentially
   only particular rights,--humaneness in the usual sense of the word.
   Aristotle connects the examination of friendship directly and expressly
   with that of pleasure, and places it before the more particular
   development of the latter, and considers it also under such a phase as
   that it appears not so much as duty as rather as a virtualization of
   the striving after happiness. Friendship seeks indeed also the weal of
   the other, but first of all it seeks reciprocal love, and can exist
   only where it finds this; nevertheless, that friendship which loves
   only for the sake of the pleasure and the benefit, is not the true and
   lasting love, but only that which exists between those who are good and
   resemblant in virtue, inasmuch as here the per se lasting good and the
   person himself are loved; in the friend I love, at the same time, that
   which is for myself a good; such true friendship, however, is seldom,
   and can never exist at the same time with many persons (Nic., viii,
   1-7; ix, 4, 5). Friendship in the narrower sense presupposes a certain
   moral similarity between its subjects; but in a wider sense it may also
   exist between the dissimilar, especially where the one person has a
   spiritual preeminence over the other, and where consequently the kind
   of the love is with each party a different one. Under this category
   belongs the love between husband and wife, parents and children, and
   between the higher and the lower in rank. The higher of two persons
   will, and ought to, be more loved in this relation, than he himself
   loves, because loving is measured by the worth of the beloved object
   (Nic., viii, 8, 9). This feature is characteristic of the predominantly
   individual and subjective character of love, in Aristotle's system.
   Even parents and children stand to each other only in this individual
   relation,--they adapt the degree of their love according to the
   individual worth of the other; the family has not an objective
   character which is to be held sacred under all circumstances, and which
   is superior to all individual choice; the degree of love diminishes
   with the increase of the worth of the subject as compared with the
   worth of the object; and for self-sacrificing maternal love, Aristotle,
   although he observes it, has no just appreciation.

   Of wedlock and of sexual love, Aristotle speaks on the whole only
   incidentally and very inadequately. Wedlock is the most natural of all
   friendships, and has for its end not merely the generation of children,
   but also the aiding and complementing of each other in all the
   relations of life (Nic., viii, 14; comp. Oecon., i, 3). The husband, as
   the stronger, has the duty of protecting the wife and remaining
   faithful to her (Oecon., i, 4), and the right to rule over her,--not
   absolutely, however, but only in the sphere belonging to him (Nic.,
   viii, 12). Children stand to their parents in a permanent
   debt-relation,--cannot divest themselves of their obligation to them,
   though the father may cast off his son (Nic., vii, 16). The obligation
   of children to fulfill the will of the parents is not, however,
   unlimited, because other obligations may modify it; the chief duty of
   children is to show reverence to their parents, and when they need it,
   to assure them sustenance (Nic., ix, 2).

   In his further discussion of friendship Aristotle makes many ingenious
   observations. Those to whom one has shown benefits, one is accustomed
   to love more than those from whom one has received benefits, because
   every one esteems especially highly that which himself has done,
   whereas he feels the debt-relation as in some sense disagreeable (Nic.,
   ix, 7). It is true, Aristotle does not exactly praise this feeling, but
   he finds it very natural, and has for it no blame. The truly good man
   loves himself perfectly, but this legitimate self-love is not an
   enjoyment-seeking selfishness, for he loves in himself only the better
   part, and he promotes his own weal, in that he loves and works the
   good; and even when he makes sacrifices for others, he wins for himself
   the higher good (Nic., ix, 9).

   In conceiving of the essence of the family as a mere friendship, it is
   natural that Aristotle should not make it the basis of the wider
   community-life, the State, but that he should place it rather in the
   sphere of individual morality, and that he should make the transition
   to the discussion of the state, neither from friendship nor from the
   family, but rather derive the thought of the state immediately from the
   general thought of morality, and transfer all the moral significancy of
   the family to the thus self-based state. This transition Aristotle
   makes thus: the teaching of virtue suffices not for the great multitude
   to induce them to virtue, seeing that they are guided almost
   exclusively by fear and not by knowledge. The multitude must be trained
   to virtue and constantly guided, and hence stand in need of laws; the
   training of a father suffices not for this, because it lacks the
   necessary authority and coercive power; only the rationally-governed
   state has both of these, and is hence the necessary condition of a more
   general realization of morality (Nic., x, 10).

   Aristotle is too judicious an observer of reality, idealistically to
   expect all salvation from mere instruction, and not to admit the moral
   unimpressibility of the great multitude; he speaks thereof in the
   strongest expressions; "the great multitude obeys force rather than
   reason, and punishment rather than morality;" "the majority abstain
   from evil not because it is disgraceful, but because they fear
   punishment; guided only by their passions they aim at nothing but
   sensuous pleasure, and shun nothing but the pains that are contrary
   thereto; but of the morally beautiful, and of the true joy therein
   contained, they have not the least notion, seeing that they have never
   tasted it" (Nic., x, 10); and this moral incapability he expressly
   refers to the nature that is inborn in them, and only a few happy ones
   are free of this innate imperfection; "this nature itself lies
   evidently not within our own power, but is by some kind of divine
   causality conferred on the truly happy." To explain this broad
   difference of natural endowment, he does not make the least attempt,
   and in this he stands far below Plato, who derives the imperfection of
   human nature (which he also admitted, but conceived of as universal),
   from a previous guilt in a life antecedent to the earthly life.
   Aristotle renounces also all hope of radically bettering the morally
   unreceptive multitude, as indeed he knows of no possibility of doing
   it; he contents himself with keeping them in check, and with placing
   them under the discipline of an objective moral reality, the state, or
   at least with accustoming them, by force and by potent custom, to order
   and to obedience, and with restraining them from the outbreaks of
   inborn passion; to be truly free in moral respects, however, is the
   exclusive privilege of the few who are naturally-gifted.

   Aristotle recognizes thus the necessity of a moral community-life,
   which, as upheld by the pre-eminent moral spirit of the few
   specially-endowed individuals, furnishes, itself, the basis of the
   morality of individuals in general, and develops, and guides, and keeps
   it in bounds. This is a weighty thought far transcending the
   shallowness of modern rationalistic liberalism, which recognizes no
   other objective form of the moral community-life, than that which has
   grown up on the broad basis of the morality of the great multitude,--a
   merely abstract product without any power and effectiveness of its own.
   Aristotle regards it as absurd to base a moral community-life upon the
   disposition and the spiritual sovereignty of the masses; he calls for
   the sovereignty of the spiritual and moral heroes,--the exclusive
   authority of the most highly gifted personalities; but he is, as yet,
   too deeply involved in the peculiarities of the heathen world-view, to
   penetrate to the bottom of the defectiveness of human nature, as
   partially recognized by him, and to find the true solution of the
   enigma, and to divine the nature of the true remedy; he knows only
   man's outward phase, but not the depths of the human heart. He ventures
   not to entertain any doubt as to the moral nature of the state-sages
   and philosophers, and he knows no other redemption, than (as in
   contrast to the profound spiritual blindness and the moral stupidity of
   the masses) in an immeasurable exaltation of the insight and the moral
   strength of the state-leaders and the sages.--Aristotle sees, in the
   state, not a remedial institution actually realizing true morality, but
   only a police-organism acting outwardly, checking the evil, and
   restoring outward discipline. The state can only ameliorate, but not
   radically cure; true wisdom and morality are not imparted by it to
   those who are by nature incapable thereof. This view throws light upon
   the decided preference of Aristotle for a contemplative life,
   uninvolved in any political activity. The highest goods can fall to the
   lot only of the few; the fact is not, that many are called while but
   few are chosen, but that only a few are called and chosen; there
   prevails here an absolute predestination, not, however, from a
   monotheistic, but from a fatalistic ground.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XX.

   The State is related to the individual citizens of the state and to the
   smaller social organisms--the household-life and the local
   community--as the absolutely determining and enlivening whole to the
   members,--is not so much the product as rather the ground of all
   morality. The threefold gradation of dependence in the household-life,
   and above all, the relation of master and slave, as resting upon a
   primitive nature-destination, is the presupposition of the state.
   Placing a higher worth upon the natural social relations than Plato,
   and confining himself more fully to historical reality, Aristotle
   escapes the unpractical idealism of Plato, but also attains to less
   definite results, and furnishes rather a criticism than a
   self-consistent theory of the nature of the state. Emphasizing the
   development of the individual citizen to free self-determination more
   strongly than Plato, he modifies the despotic absolutism of the latter,
   and presents as the moral chief-task of the state the moral
   disciplining of the free citizens. But the state-idea attains to a
   universally-human significancy neither in its outward nor its inward
   relation; humanity both in the barbarian and in the slave, is of an
   imperfect grade, and capable of no moral emancipation.

   Of the Politics of Aristotle we have to do only with the more strictly
   ethical contents. He does not connect this work directly with his
   Ethics, but treats of its subject-matter from a more practical
   stand-point; hence he gives, on the one hand, in his Ethics, the more
   general thoughts of the doctrine of the state, and, on the other, he
   repeats in his Politics some of the thoughts of his Ethics.

   The state is the highest moral communion, and hence realizes the
   highest of all goods. Its type is the household-life; its task is not
   merely to afford protection and help for the life of the individuals,
   but essentially to found and promote the true life, that is, the
   spiritually moral life, of the whole. The state is not itself the
   product of the already developed moral life of the individuals, but it
   is the presupposition thereof; outside of the state there is no moral
   development; only he who belongs to the state can be moral; the whole
   is antecedent to the parts, and the rational man is a part of the
   state; the state is the first, the citizen of the state the second;
   outside of the state lives only the animal or God (Pol., i, 1, 2).
   Hence the moral relation of the household-life is a presupposition of
   the state only in so far as it is a constituent element of the same,
   but not in such a sense as to imply that it already existed before the
   state and independently of the same. It is peculiarly characteristic
   that of the threefold foundation of the household-life, as stated by
   Aristotle, namely, the relation of man to wife, of father to children,
   and of master to slave, he treats of the first two only merely
   incidentally and briefly, but of the third chiefly, and very
   thoroughly. Aristotle furnishes for the first time, and in its
   entirety, a formal theory of slavery,--a phenomenon very significant
   for the history of ethics.

   The opinion that slavery is not a something entirely natural, but is
   based only upon violence and arbitrary laws, Aristotle emphatically
   rejects. A household-life without possessions and without serving
   instruments is not conceivable, and hence also not without slaves,
   which are in fact living instruments and possessions. Even as the
   artist and artisan stand in need of instruments, so the housefather, of
   slaves, which are consequently absolutely his property, and subject to
   his discretion; this is a natural, and not a merely legal relation,
   strictly analogous to the relation of soul and body,--the former as the
   absolutely dominating, the latter as the absolutely dominated factor.
   And reality corresponds to the want. Men differ in fact from each other
   in such a manner that the ones, as being really rational, possess
   themselves, and represent the soul of humanity, whereas the others
   represent the body of humanity,--are corporeally strong, and adapted
   for bodily toil, but are spiritually unfree and ignoble, and, though
   distinguished by reason from the brute, are yet not governed by reason
   but by sensuous desires. These are destined by nature to be slaves, and
   it is well for them that, as the property of others, they are
   spiritually dominated (Pol., i, 3-5). And Aristotle expressly says that
   those who are destined by nature to slavery are the non-Greeks, the
   barbarians. Greek prisoners-of-war are slaves not indeed by nature, but
   by law, and hence legitimately.--What the significance of slavery is,
   appears clear from the fact that it is a characteristic of a slave that
   he may be injured with impunity (Nic., v, 8),--that the notion of
   justness holds good only between such persons as have rights, and hence
   not between master and slave; that the legitimate and uncensurable
   manner of ruling over slaves is the tyrannical, the end of which is
   simply the profit of the master (Nic., viii, 12; Pol., i, 8, 9), and
   that to a slave as such a relation of love or friendship can as little
   have place as to a horse or ox,--in which connection, however, it is to
   be observed, that in so far as the slave is also a human being a
   certain inferior form of love is admissible. The slave has indeed also
   a degree of virtue, for he is required to obey and to be modest and
   -temperate, but his morality differs from that of the master, not
   merely in degree but in essence; while the master is capable of all
   virtue, the slave is utterly incapable of the power of deliberation (to
   bouleutikon) and hence evidently of the thought-virtues--prudence and
   wisdom (Pol., i, 9). The more humane directions as to the treatment of
   slaves (Oecon., i, 5; of questionable authenticity) are to be
   interpreted in the light of these principles.

   Aristotle subjects the Platonic state to a very keen and sound
   criticism; the community of goods and of wives he rejects, as both
   unnatural and morally corrupting, and even impossible (Oecon., ii, 2
   sqq.). Of his own views Aristotle is more reticent than Plato, and he
   gives rather merely general thoughts than specific details. Only that
   one should take active part in political life who possesses all civic
   virtue, and especially far-seeing insight; but such virtue can exist
   only where there is leisure for its development, that is, in such
   persons as are free from the necessity of laboring for the common wants
   of life,--and hence not in day-laborers, artisans, or farmers (Oecon.,
   iii, 5; vii, 9). The soil must be cultivated by slaves. Leisure stands
   higher than labor, and is indeed per se happiness. A proper
   state-constitution must have for its end the weal of all the free
   citizens constituting the state; it may be equally well monarchic, or
   aristocratic, or republican (the latter being that wherein all the
   truly free citizens take part), and over against these stand as their
   perversions: tyranny, oligarchy, and democracy, all of which look to
   the good, not of the whole, but only of individual persons, or of
   classes in society (Oecon., iii, 6-8; iv, 1 sqq.). It is best for the
   State when the best citizens bear rule; and the best one is not to be
   bound by trammeling laws, but stands free above the law, although in
   general Aristotle places the validity of the law higher than Plato, and
   is not hopeful of finding such "best" ones very frequently. The mass of
   free citizens are indeed to have part in deliberating upon the laws and
   in promoting justice, but not in actually governing (Oecon., iii, 9
   sqq.). Aristotle inclines most strongly to a monarchy limited by laws,
   and, in this, has his eye manifestly upon Alexander the Great.

   The state provides for the public worship and for the moral culture of
   the citizens; hence it prescribes, in order to the obtaining of a
   vigorous population, the institution of marriage. Maidens are to marry
   at their eighteenth year, and men at about the age of thirty-seven, in
   order that the children may stand in a proper relation to the age of
   the parents, and in order that the differing duration of the productive
   period of the two sexes may stand in some degree of harmony, and the
   children be robust. The laws are to prescribe the manner of life of the
   woman while pregnant, and the physical and spiritual training of the
   children. In relation to the exposing of children, the maxim holds
   good, "that no physically imperfect (peperomenon) child is to be
   raised." Where, however, the traditional usages forbid the exposing of
   children, there the excessive increase of the population is to be
   prevented by forbidding the procreating of more than a legally fixed
   number, and the fetus is to be destroyed before the period of sensation
   and quickening (Oecon., vii, 15, 16). The education of the children
   stands, as a matter of high importance, under the care of the state;
   overseeing this education up to the seventh year, the state then
   actually undertakes it itself; for the citizens belong not to
   themselves, but to the state. The boys--and the question is only as to
   these--are to be instructed in grammar and drawing, because of the
   utility of these sciences, and in gymnastics in order to the
   development of courage, and in music in order to the employment of the
   leisure which becomes the free citizen (labor being confined to the
   slave), and in order to the awakening of the sense for harmony (Oecon.,
   viii, 3-7).

   Though Aristotle presents numerous forms of state-constitution as
   possible, and as good and appropriate according to existing
   circumstances, yet to the state of true human freedom he is not capable
   of rising. Even his most free and most democratic constitution rests
   absolutely on the basis of slavery, and on the antithesis of the
   Greeks, as true men, to the slave-like barbarians. The education of the
   citizens is, in Aristotle, quite similar to the education of a cavalier
   in the age of Louis XIV. and XV. It is easy enough to be liberal-minded
   when all the labor falls to the lot of those who, as unfree, have no
   share in political life. The fact that a so-called anti-Christian
   "humanistic" culture of modern times regards the Greeks as the
   champions of true humanity, of humanitarianism in the broadest sense of
   the word, and their age and their world-theory as "the paradise of the
   human mind," from which we of modern times have to learn and receive
   true humanitarian notions,--is no striking evidence of great
   impartiality of view. Though Aristotle concedes to the different
   classes of citizens in the state a somewhat greater freedom and
   independency of development than Plato, in that he does not attribute
   all right exclusively to the absolutism of the state, still this
   recognition of a relatively free self-development does not by any means
   reach down to the laboring classes; the laborers are absolutely passive
   and for the most part personally rightless members of the state,--are
   but the immovably soil-bound roots of the tree whose richly-developed
   branches and leaves wave freely in the air above. The distinction and
   the classification of the ranks in society are not a moral ordinance,
   but a merely natural and hence unfree one,--rests not upon a moral
   self-subordination to a moral idea, but upon the compulsory necessity
   of extra-moral nature-differences,--springs not from a like moral
   dignity and task; but from the naturally different moral nature of the
   different classes of mankind. The slave and the laborer are morally
   entirely different and inferior beings, and have neither the task nor
   the capability of even comprehending the full moral idea, much less
   that of realizing it; this is the privilege of the higher classes of
   free citizens. A moral redemption of the great multitude from this ban
   of moral unfreedom and incapacity is an utterly foreign thought even to
   the philosopher; nay, he would feel called upon, should he conceive of
   even the possibility of such a redemption, to assail and prevent it
   with all his might, for with it would fall to the ground, for the
   Greek, not merely all reality of the state, but also all possibility of
   a social community-life. It is only among the rudest barbarians that he
   can conceive of a moral equality of the individuals; and the Christian
   idea of humanity, as moral, must have appeared to the Greek as well as
   to the Roman as a falling back into rude barbarism; and the war of life
   and death as carried on against Christianity by the otherwise so
   tolerant Romans, had, at bottom, not so much a religious as rather a
   social motive; it was the perfectly correct consciousness, that
   Christianity, although essentially a purely religiously-moral power,
   would inevitably radically undermine the foundation-principles of the
   heathen state, and shatter to pieces the entire absolutely slave-based
   social fabric. The thought of recognizing the slave and the barbarian
   as morally equal to the freeman, and as called to equal moral dignity
   and eternal glory, appeared to the Greek, no less than to the Roman, as
   a treason to human society, as a high crime against the solely possible
   foundations of a rational state. Beyond this world-theory Plato and
   Aristotle did not rise.

   As in relation to those within the Greek state, so also in relation to
   the non-Greeks, is the thought of humanity, in Aristotle, radically
   defective. The non-Greeks belong only in a very loose sense to humanity
   at all,--are really but half-men, destined by nature to be dominated
   over by the Greeks, as born for ruling. War upon them is treated of by
   Aristotle, unhesitatingly, under the head of the legitimate occupations
   of life, and more specifically under that of the chase: "War is, in its
   very nature, a branch of industry; for the chase is a form of the
   industrial activity, which comes to application as well in relation to
   wild beasts, as also in relation to those men who are destined by
   nature to be ruled over (pephukotes archesthai) but are not willing
   thereto,--so that consequently such a war is a just one " (Oecon., i,
   8). War is regarded by no means as an evil, but as a normal
   life-manifestation of the nations, as a necessary condition of the
   virtualizing of one of the most essential of the virtues. The relation
   of the moral community-life to the rest of mankind is consequently in
   no sense one which looks to the realizing of a moral communion, but is
   a purely negating and destructive one. Ethics proclaims not peace but
   war,--aims not at emancipating and redeeming, but at subjugating;
   non-Greek humanity is not an object of moral influencing, but of
   violent subjugating. The Greek knows no mission of the word, but only
   of the sword.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXI.

   The form of Grecian and heathen ethics which attained in Aristotle to
   its highest perfection, is that of the natural man as contented in and
   with himself; it lacks the consciousness of the historical reality and
   of the historical development of sin,--of the antagonism of the reality
   of natural man, as sprung from an historical act, to the moral idea,
   and of the earnestness of the moral struggle against sin; instead
   thereof we find the introduction of a proud distinction between a
   multitude incapable by nature of true morality, and an elect minority
   of free-born men capable of all wisdom and virtue, and among the latter
   a lofty virtue-pride of man as having attained without severe inner
   struggle to an easily-won self-satisfaction. Humility is not a virtue
   of a free sage, but only of the slave and plebeian, as born unto
   serving obedience.--Morality rests only upon the knowledge (independent
   of the religious consciousness) of the per se good, but not upon
   love,--neither upon love to God nor upon love to man; love is not the
   ground, but only a co-ordinate manifestation-form of virtue. Hence also
   the solely true moral community-life is only a product of wise and
   rational calculation, but not of love; and the primitive community-life
   of moral love, namely, the family, is not the basis, but only one phase
   of the state-life. The moral view of Aristotle, and indeed of the
   Greeks in general, is consequently not merely manifoldly different from
   the Christian view, but indeed radically opposed thereto.

   It is very important clearly to realize this inner antithesis of
   Aristotelian and Christian ethics, and all the more so as Aristotle has
   had, even up to the latest times, a so great and so largely bewildering
   influence upon the shaping of Christian ethics. Though not wishing to
   undervalue the high scientific significancy of the Aristotelian system,
   we are yet not at liberty to find in it thoughts which are really
   foreign to it.

   The Christian consciousness rests entirely upon the recognition of the
   general necessity of redemption, and indeed not simply in reference to
   a moral defectiveness inborn in man, but to one that has fallen to all
   men through historical guilt. Of this Aristotle knows nothing. When
   Brandis says: "The doctrine of hereditary sin would not have seemed
   foreign to him," inasmuch as he saw very clearly the corruption of
   human nature, [84] we think he is quite incorrect. It is true Aristotle
   ascribes to the great multitude, and above all to those who are born
   for service and labor, an inborn badness, and he describes it in the
   strongest colors and as a real insuperable incapacity for true virtue;
   and it is under this head that falls the confirmatory utterance cited
   by Brandis, namely, that it is good, in the state, to be dependent, and
   not to be at liberty to do whatever one may please, "for the liberty to
   do what one pleases cannot hold in check the evil that is inborn in all
   men" (to en ekasto ton anthropon phaulon) (Pol., vi, 4). Were this to
   be taken in its full and unlimited sense, Aristotle would thereby come
   into contradiction with his other so definite and repeated declarations
   as to the perfect will-freedom of those who are capable of true virtue,
   and thus overturn his entire ethical system,--which rests absolutely on
   the presupposition of this freedom. The fact is, he is speaking here as
   a statesman and not as a moralist, and alludes therein to the great
   multitude of those who, though arriving at magisterial offices, are yet
   not philosophers nor truly free. Indeed, he expressly says that the
   truly good should not by any means be limited by laws, but stand
   absolutely above all law; [85] and though he admits that such persons
   are very rare, yet he presupposes that there are actually some such.
   Now the fact that Aristotle unquestionably excepts the true
   philosophers as the elect few, from the otherwise all-prevalent moral
   corruption, does not offer any thing similar to the Christian doctrine
   of natural sinfulness, but indeed the very opposite,--is not, as the
   Christian doctrine, an expression of deep humility, but on the
   contrary, of unmeasured pride, as despisingly conscious of a
   superiority to the rest of mankind. To make exceptions to the general
   prevalence of sinfulness limits not merely the thought of this
   sinfulness, but entirely overthrows it; the virtue-merit of the few
   chosen ones--and these are of course always the philosophizing
   moralists themselves--stands forth all the more glaringly the deeper
   the rest of mankind are degraded. It affords no similarity to the
   Christian consciousness when, to the few philosophers, that character
   is attributed which Christianity ascribes exclusively to the God-man.

   To what height the proud self-consciousness of the philosopher, as
   pretendedly perfect in his virtue, rises, some idea may be obtained
   from the following description of the virtue of magnanimity:
   "Magnanimous is he, who, being worthy of great things, esteems himself
   as in fact worthy of them. . . . The greatest of out. ward goods is
   honor; hence the magnanimous man has to act with propriety in respect
   to honor and dishonor. . . . As the magnanimous man is worthy of the
   greatest things, he must necessarily be a perfectly good one; to him
   belong whatever is great in every virtue; . . . hence it is difficult
   to be really magnanimous. . . . In great honors, and honors shown him
   by eminent men, the magnanimous man rejoices moderately, as at that
   which he deserves, or which even falls below his desert; for, for a
   perfect virtue there is no entirely sufficient honor. Nevertheless he
   accepts it, because there is no greater one for him. But the honor
   shown him by ordinary men, or for inferior things, he disdains, for
   they are not worthy of him." After having observed, that in order to
   true magnanimity also outward gifts of fortune are requisite, and that
   the magnanimous man thinks only very lightly of men and things, and
   regards only few things so highly as to expose himself to danger for
   them, Aristotle says of him further: "He is inclined to do good, but
   disdains to receive benefits, for the former is characteristic of the
   eminent, and the latter, of the inferior; and he gives more liberally
   in return, for thereby he who was before a creditor is made a debtor.
   Also he gladly recollects those to whom he has done favors, but not
   those from whom he has received benefits! for the receiver of a benefit
   becomes subordinate to him who renders it, whereas he is fond of being
   superior to others; therefore he also hears mention, with pleasure, of
   the former (his own good deeds), but with displeasure of the latter
   (the received benefits); . . . he remains inactive and hesitating when
   no great honor or great work is involved; he does only a little, but
   that little is great and honor-bringing; . . . he acts boldly and
   openly, for he cherishes contempt for others; he speaks the truth, save
   when he speaks with irony; and he does this when lie has to do with the
   great multitude; . . . he admires nothing, for nothing appears to him
   as great. . . . The movements of a magnanimous man are slow, his voice
   restrained and his pronunciation measured. For he who is interested in
   few things, is not in haste; and he who regards nothing as great, is
   not zealous." (Nic., iv, 8, 9). This portraiture of one who, as judged
   from a Christian stand-point, is but a courtly fool, is the
   virtue-ideal of Aristotle.

   A very essential defect of Aristotelian ethics is the falling into the
   back-ground of the religious character of the moral; and in this
   respect it is far inferior to that of Plato. The moral stands out alone
   in entire self-sufficiency, not needing any other ground or basis than
   itself; the good is good without reference to God,--is good in and of
   itself, and is at the same time the motive of its own realization. That
   the moral is essentially God's will, that it brings man into
   life-communion with God, that man has an immediate moral life-relation
   to God, that piety is the ground and life of all virtue,--of all this
   we find in Aristotle but a few very faint and wavering hints. And this
   is especially surprising in view of the fact that the world-theory of
   Aristotle is, in other respects, by no means inimical to a close
   connecting of the moral with the religious, seeing that his God-idea is
   a very highly developed one, and that lie derives all life of the world
   and of its contents absolutely from the proto-causality of the highest
   self-conscious reason, that is, the personal God. It is not so much the
   consequentiality of his philosophical system, as the feebleness of the
   religious consciousness and life in Aristotle himself, that occasioned
   him to develop the religious phase of the moral so imperfectly; he does
   not reject this phase, he even alludes to it, but he does not develop
   it.

   Morality in Aristotle lacks therefore its essential motive; for, in
   that he himself expressly and repeatedly declares. against Socrates,
   that from the knowledge of the good the willing of the same does not
   necessarily follow, but, on the contrary, a contradiction may occur
   between willing and knowing, he thereby indeed evidently shows that he
   has observed real life with greater impartiality than Socrates, but he
   has also thereby rendered impossible any clear understanding of the
   moral life. For if knowledge does not invariably result in willing,
   what then is the impelling power which calls forth willing, or the lack
   of which works non-willing? It is not love, for love appears not as
   directed toward the good per se, or toward God as the highest good, but
   only toward the individual manifestation, as individual
   friendship,--not as a motive to virtue, but as one particular virtue
   along-side of many others. The willing of the good springs not from
   love, but appears as something entirely independent and unbased,
   along-side of knowledge and along-side of love; and for the very reason
   that Aristotle knows not the moral power of love, he can discover for
   the civic virtue of the great multitude no other motive than fear.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [84] Arist., ii, p. 1682.

   [85] Polit., iii, 13: kata de toiouton ouk esti nomos, autoi gar eisi
   nomos
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXII.

   After the time of Aristotle, philosophy declined with accelerating
   rapidity, degenerating more and more into a shallow popular moralizing,
   loosely grouped around a few superficial foundation-thoughts, and
   consisting, for the most part, simply in unconnected observations on
   isolated topics. The decline of thought manifests itself in a
   constantly growing inappreciation of the objective significancy and
   validity of the moral idea, which latter assumes more and more an
   individually-subjective character, even in cases where it seemingly
   subordinates the subject to itself, as in Stoicism,--or subordinates
   the same to nature, as in Epicureanism,--and the decline reaches its
   lowest point in the total doing away with all general and objective
   significancy of the moral idea, in Skepticism.

   The moral theories that rise after Aristotle are in no sense vigorous
   and truly philosophical products of thought; they are but feeble
   out-shoots of the antecedent, more vigorous spirit-life, without bloom
   and without fruit. Moreover they stand less closely connected with
   Plato and Aristotle than with certain other tendencies of thought that
   sprang from the influence of Socrates. On the basis of the Cyrenaics
   sprang up Epicureanism; on that of the Cynics, Stoicism; while the last
   form of Greek philosophy, also in the sphere of ethics, namely,
   Skepticism, may be regarded as a further development of the tendency of
   the Sophists.

   By Socrates this much was gained, that the moral, rational subject was
   recognized in his freedom and rights, that the moral idea in general
   had come to consciousness. With Plato and Aristotle, however, this
   freedom and this idea are not of a merely individual, subjective
   character, but they are brought into relation to the living whole of
   rational reality. A course of action is not good for the reason that I
   regard it as such, but I must regard it as good because it is good per
   se; the moral has essentially a general and objective validity. The
   later philosophy holds one-sidedly fast to the position. gained by
   Socrates,--makes of the subjective consciousness the highest criterion
   of truth, even in moral things, and that too in its individual,
   absolutely self-dependent character, apart from any organic union with
   the rational whole. The good is good because I recognize it as such. In
   this subjectivistic tendency, philosophy turns away from Aristotle and
   falls into the channel rather of the earlier schools, but with a still
   stronger emphasizing of the subject. Hence also the interest for
   general and for natural philosophy grows less, and attention is
   concentrated on the subjective, on morality, and this consists now
   essentially in subjective opinions; lacking in fundamental ideas, it
   becomes feeble, lax, shallow; it comes into the hands of the masses,
   and, in this marsh-like out-spreading, it becomes stagnant and
   spiritless; in the place of philosophical schools proper we find
   hostile parties, as it were, confessional sects of the mass of the
   cultured, a party spirit which supplies for these sects the place of
   their already-vanished religion; every cultured person sought to belong
   to some such philosophical. sect, and he selected and molded it
   according to his own taste, and. the choice itself of the school became
   really simply a matter of taste.--The original antithesis of Greek
   philosophy, as Materialism and Spiritualism, as Ionic and Eleatic
   philosophy, which appeared later as the antithesis of the Cyrenaics and
   the Cynics, repeats itself, especially in the sphere of ethics, as
   Epicureanism and Stoicism; the former regards the spirit as determined
   by nature; the latter, nature as determined by the spirit.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXIII.

   The doctrine of the Epicureans,--which was widespread among the mass of
   the cultured, and which subsequently became even the dominant spirit of
   the age, but which still remained without any scientific development,
   as, in fact, it was incapable of such,--is the consequential unfolding
   of the individual pleasure-principle, the theoretical expression of
   irreligion and immorality. The subjective pleasure-feeling is the
   highest criterion of truth and of the good; the yielding to natural
   proclivities, even the sensuous, and the greatest possible enjoyment of
   the present, are the highest virtue,--prudent calculating for prolonged
   pleasure, the highest wisdom,--anxious concern as to a future
   retribution and a divine world-government, the greatest folly; our
   striving an& thinking should regard only this life.

   Epicurus, (ob. 271 B. C., see Diog. L., x, 1 sqq.), who stood most
   closely related with the school of the Cyrenaics, obtained very soon
   for his doctrine--which has so much to recommend itself to
   worldlings--a wide acceptance; and while the solid thinking of
   Aristotle became almost forgotten, this thought-sparing, self-styled
   philosophy continued to spread wider and wider,--formed, in fact, by
   far the most numerous of the sects, and sustained itself until long
   after the advent of Christ. The more superficial the wisdom, so much
   the greater the party that clings to it. This doctrine, as comprehended
   in a very few thoughts and forms of expression, soon became fixed and
   stationary and received no further development, but nevertheless an all
   the wider practical application. From the so wide-spread sect there
   have not come down to posterity even the names of self-styled
   philosophers of any great eminence, to say nothing of systems of
   thought.

   Happiness is the highest good, and hence to strive after it the highest
   wisdom and morality; all cognition looks to it as its end. For man only
   that is true which he feels, which he becomes acquainted with through
   the senses, namely, concrete sensuous reality. Whatever transcends this
   is at least doubtful, and to fear the doubtful and supersensuous
   disturbs happiness. Fear of the gods and of a life after death must
   vanish away, for of them we have no knowledge. Sensuous feeling, and
   hence the individual pleasure-feeling, is the highest criterion of all
   truth, and hence also of the morally-true, the good.. But we feel only
   the sensuous, the corporeal, hence only this is for us true and real.
   Individual being, and hence multiplicity, is the solely true
   existence,--and hence, first of all, the individual subject;
   consequently to carry out the rights of the subject is the moral task.
   This task looks in no sense whatever to the realizing of a something
   transcendent to the individual,--of an idea; man is not to follow an
   all-prevalent law, but, on the contrary, his individual nature,--is
   not, in any sense whatever, to deny himself, but in fact to cling to
   and assert this his particular existence, such as it is. Alan is not an
   upholder of a spiritual world, on the contrary, he is himself
   absolutely supported and guided by nature,--should merge himself
   harmoniously into nature, should therein feel himself well. This
   feeling of one's self-well is the chief end of life, and therefore the
   solely true measure of the good. Enjoyment is the end; the yielding of
   one's self over to one's own naturalness, is the means.

   Now, for this manner of life there was of course no great degree of
   wisdom requisite; nevertheless direct unconscious desire may lead
   astray, and hence it must be guided by considerateness. Man must
   consider in each separate case whether an immediately inviting pleasure
   is not connected with a subsequent greater pain, and in this case he
   must avoid it, or at least confine it within the necessary limits, and
   that simply in order to render the pleasure-feeling a lasting one. The
   pleasure of the soul is greater than that of the body, because it is
   more lasting, and hence it is more to be sought after; however, the
   difference is not essential, inasmuch as the soul itself is but a
   refined body. Higher than the pleasure which consists in the present
   gratifying of a natural impulse, is the pleasure of being satisfied,
   that is, when desire and the soul are in a state of comfortable repose;
   for this reason a certain degree of temperateness and moderation are
   among the conditions of happiness. Hence virtue is indeed an element of
   a wise life, not for its own sake, however, but as a means to a higher
   pleasure-enjoyment,--even as one takes medicine as a means to health.
   Right and wrong, to which the virtue of justness relates, are nothing
   per se; right is only the contents of mutual compacts that are entered
   into for reciprocal benefit; their violation is the wrong. Where there
   are no compacts there is neither right nor wrong, and hence also no
   justness or righteousness. Moreover, only so far as it redounds to my
   utility, have I to practice justness; and the evil of unjustness is
   simply the damage I incur,--especially through judicial infliction.
   Friendship is of much value, wedlock-love properly of none at all. From
   offices of state the wise man keeps himself aloof; he acquires for
   himself wealth as far as practicable, and thus provides for his future.

   An essential condition of happiness is the being free from all fear of
   spiritual powers--of the gods and their displeasure, of death and a
   retribution in the "yon-side." Gods there may indeed be, but as they
   are to be conceived of as in a state of bliss, hence they cannot
   possibly have any concern for the world and for men. Death does not
   fall within the scope of feeling, and hence does not exist for us at
   all,--does not concern us in the least. So long as we have feeling,
   death does not exist, and when death does exist, then we have no
   feeling; hence it disturbs our happiness only when we foolishly harbor
   a fear of it. But, that with death, all is over with man, is a matter
   of course, as in fact the soul also is but a fortuitous combination of
   manifold atoms which, at death, again fall apart. In order to get rid
   of the tormenting superstition of a life after death, one needs but to
   study physics. The all-comprehending and dominating chief-condition of
   happiness is, therefore, prudence,--which in each particular case
   chooses and determines the proper measure and the proper means of
   pleasure. Man is, consequently, lord of his own fate, and herein
   consists his freedom; fortune, as mere chance, has but a minor share in
   our destiny. But that perfect happiness is not to be reached in the way
   recommended Epicurus knew very well, and he himself depicts the
   miseries of humanity in very dark colors; he does not, however, throw
   the blame for them upon man, but upon the imperfectness of the
   fortuitously-arisen universe itself; and, by this course, he does not
   fall out with his system, but in fact finds for it a fresh
   justification; the more numerous the miseries to which man, without his
   own fault, is exposed, so much the stronger stimulus, and so much the
   greater right has he, to strive after the enjoyment of life.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXIV.

   The subjectively-idealistic Stoicism which took its start from Zeno,
   teaches a morality of conflict,--of struggle on the part of the
   rational spirit (as being alone of worth, and as being absolutely a law
   unto itself) against sensuousness, of thought against pleasure, as
   belonging to a lower sphere. Virtue is the solely true good, and all
   other seeming goods are either indifferent or irrational. But this
   struggle rests simply on the thought of an unreconciled and
   irreconcilable antagonism of existence,--knows not the higher thought
   of the inner unity of all veritable existence,--rests on the pride of
   the subjective understanding and of the absolutely self-legislating
   individual will, over against all objective reality, even over against
   a moral commonalty with laws binding on the individual subject.
   Stoicism leads, therefore, on the one hand, to an unbounded
   virtue-pride, and on the other, to a querulous despising of reality,
   also to a disregarding of caprice-checking custom, nay, even to a
   suicidal non-esteeming of one's own temporal life,--pretending to an
   inner peace, but really betraying evidence of un-peace. Any moral
   significance, and any even slight presentiment of absolute ethical
   truth, ore to be found only in the more general thoughts of the Stoics;
   but all the more dubious, arbitrary, nay, even perverted, is the
   particular application of these thoughts to definite life-relations.

   Stoicism stands on the one hand incomparably higher in spiritual vigor
   and dignity than Epicureanism, and forms a direct antagonism thereto,
   but, on the other hand, it passes far beyond the truth in the direction
   of the opposite extreme, and its one-sided unnaturalness manifests even
   more clearly than Epicureanism the insufficiency of heathen principles
   for arriving at true moral wisdom.--Zeno, a contemporary of Epicurus,
   illustrated the teachings of his system (see Diog. Laert. viii) by
   moral strictness of life, and by the commission of suicide at an
   advanced age; his writings are lost. His school, which collected within
   itself the nobler class of minds, and which, while less numerous than
   that of the Epicureans, yet exhibited far more spiritual activity than
   the latter, continued to exist until the downfall of
   paganism,--especially among the Romans, where, though much toned-down
   and transformed, it was represented not only by the rather eclectic
   Cicero, but also by Seneca, [86] by Epictetus (toward the close of the
   first century A. D.), [87] and by Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. [88]

   On the dualistic antithesis of matter and spirit rests the
   corresponding ethical antithesis between merely sensuously-natural
   objective existence and the rational spirit in the individual free
   subject. Not the mere nature-entity, but the spirit, is the true
   entity, and it is such in full, freely self-legislating
   self-sufficiency; its destination is to manifest itself as independent
   in relation to nature, and to base itself entirely upon itself. Not the
   passive, but the active entity is the solely true one,--not enjoyment
   but activity; it is only as active that the spirit is in its true
   reality, whereas, as merely enjoying, it sinks below spirituality. Man,
   as related to objective existence, is a self-poised absolutely freely
   self-determining being,--is, as a rational spirit, perfectly
   self-sufficient, needs nothing outside of himself in order to be a
   spirit, to be free, to be happy; he should not let himself be
   determined by any thing whatever external to himself. Whatever is to
   have worth for man, and hence is to form a part of, and to contribute
   to, his perfection and happiness, must proceed from and depend upon
   himself alone; every thing else, whatever it may be, concerns him not,
   is indifferent to him,--can, and may, neither hinder nor promote his
   perfection and happiness. It is in being self-dependent that the wise
   man is truly free.--The essence of man, in distinction from the brute,
   is not enjoying and feeling, but thinking; it is not in enjoying, but
   in thinking, that he is free, that he is a rational spirit; and the
   more he seeks to enjoy external objects and finds pleasure therein, so
   much the more is he dependent and unfree, so much the more is he
   irrational,. and hence so much the less a true man. Thinking and not
   feeling is, therefore, the decisive criterion of the truth and of the
   good; hence there should be first judging and then acting. All
   rational, and hence moral, activity must rest on knowledge; to act from
   mere feeling is irrational; there is no virtue without knowledge.
   Philosophy itself is a practice of virtue, and knowledge is the first
   and highest virtue. Out of the knowledge of the good springs, of itself
   and from inner necessity, pleasure in the good and a striving after it,
   just as from a knowledge of the evil springs an abhorrence of the same.
   But these movements of the sensibilities are not the ground, but only
   the attendants of the moral activity; the ground thereof is knowledge
   alone. From erroneous knowledge, however, spring irrational
   sensibility-movements and strivings of the soul, that is, the passions,
   which are consequently to be regarded as a soul-disease. Now, though
   all evil springs from error, yet is man nevertheless responsible
   therefor, for the error itself is guiltily incurred. It is by the
   knowledge of the good, that is, by perfect consciousness, that volition
   is distinguished from impulse or instinct. The will aims at the
   truly-known good, impulse at the merely seemingly good. Knowledge, as
   an essential manifestation of rationality, is, like the latter itself,
   germinally innate in man, and hence it is in all men essentially the
   same; simply the further development and the particular application of
   the same is left to one's own judgment.

   The essence and the fundamental thought of the good is conformity to
   nature (homologia, convenientia, to kata phusin, convenienter naturae
   vivere). Nature is taken here, not as outer sensuous nature in
   contradistinction to the self-conscious spirit, but as the general
   order of the world, as the natura rerum, the inner conformity-to-law of
   the All, and, above all, the rational nature and conformity-to-law of
   one's own spiritual existence and life. Hence conformity to nature is
   agreement with one's self--the inner order and spiritual health of the
   life. Even the brute puts forth effort primarily not from pleasure and
   for pleasure, but for natural self-preservation and self-development.
   The true nature of man, however, is not the sensuous nature but the
   reason. To live right signifies, therefore, to live according to
   reason. Hence evil is a contradiction to the rational nature of man,
   and the direct opposite of the good,--differs from the good not merely
   quantitatively, but also qualitatively and essentially,--is the
   anti-natural and anti-rational.

   Virtue is, therefore, in its very essence, a "being well;" hence it has
   a feeling of happiness as its immediate and necessary consequence, and
   thus it is itself per se the highest good. He who is truly virtuous is
   happy in the same manner as God; he who is vicious is necessarily
   wretched. Not this happiness-feeling, however, but the good as such, is
   the rational end of the moral activity; virtue is to be sought for its
   own sake without reference to the happiless-feeling; the
   pleasure-sensation is indeed the consequence, but not the end of moral
   action. There are, in fact, other pleasure-sensations than those which
   flow from virtue, and other pain-sensations than those which follow
   from vice; also external things, things not dependent on us and our
   free determination, such as health, riches, etc., may excite
   pleasure-sensations, and hence contribute to our external happiness.
   Now, if the end of our striving were not the good per se, but
   happiness, then our effort would be directed toward a something that is
   not fully within our power; but nothing can be truly good, and hence
   truly to be sought after, which is not dependent upon us and within the
   scope of our will. The pleasure which arises independently of us from
   external things may be agreeable, and hence these things may be useful,
   but real goods they are not. Hence the antithesis of the honestum (to
   kathekon, to kalon) and the utile. Thus the happiness and perfection of
   the sage rests entirely upon himself; he is the free creator of his
   well-being; all that is really good depends solely upon himself; all
   that is not dependent upon him affects and disturbs him not. Every wise
   man is a rich man, a king.--As the good differs from the evil, not in
   degree but in essence, hence all the virtues are essentially equal to
   and homogeneous with each other; for a virtue inferior to another could
   be possible only by its being somewhat participant in evil; but this is
   impossible from its very idea. Hence whoever has one virtue has them
   all; and they are all intimately involved in each other. Likewise, all
   vices are essentially equal to each other, and, e. g., to kill a cock
   needlessly is just as bad as to commit parricide.

   From the Stoic notion of the self-based freedom of the sage, as well as
   from their view of the essence of virtue, it follows that there may be
   entirely perfect men, men who are free of all error and of all
   immorality, fully possessed of all knowledge and virtue and happiness.
   That there really are such is taken for granted; and delineations of
   this self-acquired glory are given in the most glowing colors, and form
   a favorite topic of Stoic philosophy. On the other hand, we find not
   the least trace of the notion of a natural corruption of mankind; there
   is admitted (as was the case in Aristotle's system) simply a difference
   between the rude multitude little inclined to, and little capable of,
   the good, and the more happily-gifted ones,--the latter being of course
   the Stoics themselves; and it is given as an essential characteristic
   of a sage, never to repent of any thing. [89] --In consequence of the
   diametrical antagonism between good and evil, there is no mean moral
   sphere between the two, no sphere of moral indifference. There are
   indeed things that are per se indifferent to man, and which can hence
   per se neither increase nor diminish his worth and happiness, but their
   actual application is in each particular case either good or bad. In
   classifying the virtues, the Stoics, for the most part, follow Plato.

   Zeno himself based the moral on religion; also some of his disciples
   understand by the "nature" with which man is to be in harmony, the
   divine contents and the divine conformity-to-law of nature, and hence
   that which harmonizes with the divine will; and they conceive of reason
   as a manifestation of the divine activity in things. But the later
   Stoics, for the most part, lost sight of this religious character of
   the moral, and presented it as quite independent of religion,--as a
   spiritual life-sphere resting strictly and independently upon itself.
   In Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius the religious element comes again more
   into the fore-ground; they recognize reverence for the gods, or for
   God, as a virtue and as a ground of the moral,--conceive of
   virtuousness as God-likeness, and viciousness as godlessness, and even
   attribute high worth to prayer, though here, of course, there is no
   trace of penitential prayer, but for the most part, only the spirit of
   the Pharisee's prayer: "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men."
   [90] It is in fact not impossible that in the more religious tendency
   of later Stoicism there is a degree of influence from Christianity.

   This view of the moral produced in fact among the Stoics an earnest
   moral striving, though without enthusiasm or heart, and only in the
   manner of a cold logical calculating. Feeling amounts to nothing at
   all; of the potency of love there is not a trace; thought passes
   directly over into action, and feeling merely accompanies the act as a
   something entirely indifferent. The love of neighbor is regarded only
   as a mode of action, but not as an affair of the heart. The sage ought
   indeed to help the wretched according to his means and according to
   their worthiness, but to feel compassion, or even to act as if one felt
   it, would be unworthy of a wise man; for the truly wise man is above
   all suffering; and the wretched suffer only from lack of knowledge,
   because they regard external things, which are not within their own
   control, as real goods. [91] The friendliness to man which is so
   earnestly recommended by the Stoics flows not from love, and their
   patience under received injustice springs only from contemptuous pride.
   Hence, while, on the one hand, wrath, revenge, envy, slander, etc., are
   condemned as unworthy of the sage, partly because every passive
   feeling-movement is immoral, and in part because the sage is too proud
   to allow himself to be disturbed by the acts and manners of
   others,--yet, on the other hand, it is held as an unworthy weakness to
   forgive others for their injustice, for that would be equivalent to
   declaring the injustice as indifferent, and to lightly esteeming
   justice. [92] The Christian principle, "Forgive and ye shall be
   forgiven," has no force for a Stoic, because he believes himself never
   to be in circumstances to need forgiveness.

   The morality of the Stoics is a constant contest of the spirit against
   sensuous nature and against the unspiritual and irrational in the
   objective world in general; but as this contest is directed against a
   primordial and never entirely-overcomeable antagonism in existence
   itself, and hence can never lead to an objective victory, it assumes
   consequently not so much an actively outward-working character, as
   rather that of a passive resistance against irrational reality. The
   sage does not undertake to produce a real world of the moral spirit; on
   the contrary, he retreats within himself in proud contempt of the
   actual world; only himself, but not the outer world, can he make
   perfect;--the real struggle is carried on not by a victory-confident
   assaulting of immoral reality, but by a contemptuous turning away from
   the same,--by an indifference to pleasure and pain, the depicting of
   which is given again and again in endless reiteration. This blunt,
   indifferent enduring of pain is not the fruit of a pious faith in a
   divine world-government or of love toward mankind, but it is the proud
   defiance of the absolutely self-relying subject as against a world
   imbued with a primitive and essential irrationality. This indifference
   toward all that excites the sensibilities restrains indeed the Stoic
   from Epicurean sensuality, but is very far from leading to a true
   resistance of one's self; the sensuous is only despised, but not
   positively assailed. Stoic ethics requires no severe self-denial, no
   fasting, no renunciation of sensual enjoyment; it only requires that
   one be moderate and that one place no value on the enjoyment; but after
   all, this restraint was, for the most part, but a mere flourishing of
   rhetoric;--Seneca accepted, with the greatest suavity, riches upon
   riches, which his pupil Nero conferred upon him.

   The lightly esteeming of the non-spiritual extends also to the physical
   life. The Stoics indeed regard the instinct of self-preservation as a
   fundamental impulse of human nature, and as a strictly normal
   expression of the law which requires harmony with one's self and with
   nature, but it is not inconsistent therewith that they should regard
   life itself as an object of indifference--seeing that it is not within
   man's own control. Death must not be feared, but must-as a power not
   within our control--be despised; and in so far as it is a nature-law,
   and one that liberates us from a painful bodily life, it is to be
   regarded even with pleasure. The thought of immortality is, in this
   connection, regarded merely as a possibility; if the life of the soul
   continues on, then the wise man is happy; but if it ceases, then ceases
   for him also all pain; in neither case is there the least ground for
   fear.--But the Stoic goes still further. The wise man is a free lord
   over himself; but in death he is overcome by an external power. It does
   not become the sage, therefore, to let the close of his life depend
   merely on any such extraneous power; it is but a virtualization of his
   own self-dependent freedom, that he should close his life when it
   pleases himself, that is, when he has satisfactory reasons therefor. To
   the Stoic, suicide is, under certain circumstances, not only allowed,
   but even a duty, a heroic virtue. Among the circumstances that justify
   suicide, irrespective of self-sacrifice for country or friends, are the
   following: great distress, poverty, incurable disease, physical
   maiming, and other oppressive afflictions, deprivation of liberty, and
   in general, any essential hinderance to living freely and in conformity
   to reason, such as infirmity from age; all these are divine hints that
   it is time to take one's voluntary departure; "The door is open,"--is a
   saying which the Stoic fondly reiterates as an expression of his
   perfect liberty, even in regard to the ending of his life. [93] Suicide
   is defended with great zeal, and almost with enthusiasm, by Seneca, on
   the ground that it is an assertion of the true self-dependence and.
   freedom, of man; for this reason man may and should proceed to suicide
   even when the above freedom-hindering evils are merely in threatening
   prospect, inasmuch as, if he does not, he may in the end be hindered
   from the accomplishment of this self-liberation. Only a single way
   leads into life, but thousands lead out of it. No one is wretched save
   through his own fault; for if misfortune falls upon him, he is at
   liberty to depart; life keeps none back. The wise man lives only so
   long as life pleases him; the lancing of an artery opens to him the way
   to freedom. Death is, after all, unavoidable, why then adjourn it till
   the evil day? The foulest death is better than the cleanest slavery;
   the prudent man seeks the easiest death; yet if it cannot be otherwise,
   he does not shun even a painful suicide. [94] --And the practice
   corresponded to the theory. Zeno himself is said to have hanged himself
   at an advanced age, because he. had broken one of his fingers; his
   disciple Cleanthes starved himself to death because his gums became
   sore. The frequent suicides among the Roman Stoics are a matter of
   notoriety.--This doctrine and this practice are often regarded as in
   conflict with the general view of the Stoics, which, in fact, denies
   that pain is a real evil. The inconsistency is only apparent, and
   contains, at all events, a very true confession. If man has no higher
   consolation against the miseries of existence than the pride of the
   self-centered, self-satisfied individual spirit, then it is simply mere
   truthfulness when he confesses that he is not equal to the misery of
   real life,--that he has not the moral power entirely to overcome it by
   morality, and to say with joy, "We glory also in tribulations." The
   Stoic knows nothing of an almighty father-love of God, and less still
   of any personal guilt; lie lacks the entire basis upon which the
   courage of a Christian heart can even grow stronger amid all the
   buffetings of life; he rises only to a defiance of the miseries of
   reality; but this defiance, seeing that it is not exalted to moral
   courage by the pious confidence of a God-thirsting heart, is not equal
   to the task of humbly bowing itself under suffering, but only to that
   of destroying itself in bitter accusation against the moral order of
   the world, and in the consciousness that the real world is not worthy
   longer to contain such a sage.

   Stoic morality is of a purely individual character, aims only at
   virtualizing the free self-dependence and self-sufficiency of the
   individual subject. For an objective reality of the moral thought, and
   for a moral community-life, the Stoic has no appreciation, and hence
   also none for the naturally-moral basis of society, namely,
   marriage,--which, in fact, as requiring self-submission to an objective
   moral reality, appears as a trammeling fetter for the individual
   subject; and it is doubtless only from the striving after the
   maintenance of the complete self-sufficiency of the wise subject in the
   face of all objective moral reality, that are to be explained the
   strangely perverted views of the sexual relations that prevailed among
   the Stoics. By them marriage itself was lightly esteemed, and, while
   passionate love and lustfulness were condemned, sexual communion
   outside of marriage was expressly defended against all criticism; [95]
   and of Zeno and Chrysippus, it is made out with a good degree of
   certainty, that they required community of wives among the wise, and
   that they declared allowable, sexual communion between nearest
   blood-relatives (even between parents and children), and also whoredom,
   self-pollution and pederasty. [96] It must not be forgotten that in
   these opinions--with the exception of incest, which is readily
   explainable from their one-sided, calculating spirit,--the Stoics had
   the moral consciousness of the Greeks on their side, and that for their
   community of wives they were countenanced by the teachings of
   Plato.--Also in other respects their moral relations to other men are
   neither frank nor pure. The lofty contempt which the sage indulges in
   toward all non-sages, disengages him also from many moral duties toward
   them; thus he is not under obligation always to tell them the truth;
   falsehood is allowable not only in war, to the enemy, but also in many
   other cases,--especially in view of attaining an an advantage. [97]

   The morality of the Stoic is the pride of the natural man who is
   conscious of being a moral creature, but who has no suspicion of a
   morality higher than and transcending the individual subject, nor of a
   personal moral depravity. His oft-repeated high-sounding descriptions
   of self-complacency make any thing but an agreeable impression. This
   pride restrains him, it is true, from many unworthy acts; in
   consequence, however, of his total lack of an objective standard, it
   did not guard him from grave moral errors, nor from an almost fanatical
   hate against a higher world-theory, which, at a later period, offered
   itself to him in Christianity; and Marcus Aurelius was not in the least
   deterred by his so high-sounding discourses on kindness, tolerance, and
   charity, from letting loose a fearful persecution upon the
   Christians,--in whose martyr-courage he could discover only criminal
   obstinacy.--Though Stoic ethics was distinguished from the
   essentially-related ethics of the Cynics by the fact that it discarded
   the unspiritual and unrefined form of the latter, and that it respected
   the spiritual under every phase, and hence also in art, and placed a
   high estimate upon the worthy appearance of the body and upon
   cleanliness, nevertheless at bottom it does not really transcend the
   same. It does not rise beyond the mere formal notion of the moral as a
   conformity to nature; the material constructions to be put upon the
   contents of the moral idea are left to the subjective discretion of the
   individual; and though it really stands higher than Epicurean ethics,
   still it did not spiritually vanquish the same. Instead of an
   absolutely and objectively valid moral idea, and of the expression of a
   divine will, we find only man's subjective knowledge of his own nature;
   the contents of the moral law, the Stoic discovers only by the
   observation of his own personal peculiarities; and the possibility that
   this self of his might be a morally perverted one he does not even
   remotely suspect.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [86] From him are extant numerous moral writings in popular rhetorical
   style.

   [87] His lectures, for the most part merely popular moral exhortations,
   are preserved in Arrian; besides these we have the Enchiridion
   Epicteti, Which has been much used even in Christian times.

   [88] From him we have Ta eis eauton, (moral meditations)--disconnected,
   and, in many cases, merely suggested thoughts and life rules, with much
   repetition and without regular development.

   [89] Cic.: Pro Muraena, 29.

   [90] Arrian: Dissert. Epict., iii, 24, 96 sqq.; iv, 10, 14 sqq., (ed.
   Schweigh.); M. Aurel. Ant.: eis eauton, ix, 40.

   [91] Epict.: Enchir., 16; M. Anton., v, 36; vii, 43; Diog. L., vii,
   123; Cicero: Pro Muraena, c. 29; Seneca: De clementia, ii, 5, 6.

   [92] Stobaeus: Eclogae ethicae, ii, 7, p. 190 (Heeren); Diog. L., vii,
   123; Cic.: Pro Mur., 29.

   [93] Diog. L., vii, 130; Arrian, i, 9, 20; i, 24, 20; i, 25, 18 sqq.;
   ii, 1, 20; M. Anton., v, 29; Cic.: De Finibus, iii, 18.

   [94] Epist. ii, 5 (17); vi, 6 (58); viii, 1 (70); De ira, iii, 15, (ed.
   Fickert).

   [95] Epict. Enchir. 33.

   [96] Diog. L., vii, 13, 33, 131, 188; Sext. Emp.: Hupotuposeis, iii,
   24.

   [97] Stob.: Ecl. eth., ii, 7, p. 230 (Heeren).
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXV.

   Epicureanism and Stoicism are two diametrically opposed but also
   mutually requiring and complementing phases of the Greek spirit; both
   are equally one-sided, both are equally remote from the Christian
   ethical idea;--both refer all moral truth back to the individual
   subject. In the place of Christian morality, the Epicureans offer
   joyous voluptuousness; the Stoics offer the high-minded pride of
   complete self-righteousness; neither party feels the least need of
   redemption, of divine grace; for the Epicureans regard the per se
   sinful as right, while the Stoics imagine themselves to have overcome
   the same through their pee se pure individual will.

   Epicurean ethics emphasizes the nature-phase in man; Stoic the
   spirit-phase; the former teaches an unresisting, voluptuous giving-over
   of self to sensuous nature, the latter an earnest but only partially
   successful resisting of the same; the former is absolutely indifferent
   as to moral knowledge,--natural instinct supplies the place of
   knowledge; the latter manifests a busy seeking after knowledge, and
   esteems it as a virtue; the former is a crude realism,--in all
   essential features a materialistic naturalism; the latter is a
   one-sided idealism,--in all essential features a ploddingly-calculating
   spiritualism; the former bears a feminine character,--is passive,
   yielding, lax; the latter bears a masculine character,--is active,
   earnest, rigorous; the former suited better the effeminate Ionic tribe
   and the Orient, the latter rather the stern Doric tribe and the Romans.

   The Epicurean seemingly gives sway to the universal, namely, to nature,
   to which the individual subordinates himself; in reality, however, the
   individual subject is set free from the bonds of the universal, of the
   spiritual, of rationality; the Stoic also seemingly subordinates the
   individual subject to a general thought, namely, the moral idea; in
   reality, however, also here the universal is made to yield to the
   individual subject; in the place of a general moral idea we find,
   strictly speaking, only the calculating opinion of the individual; it
   is the self-will of the subject in the face of the spiritual objective
   world, namely, history, that asserts itself as rational freedom.
   According to both systems, therefore, the truth is found only within
   the subject; nature and existence in general have value for the
   Epicurean only in so far as they can be enjoyed, that is, in so far as
   they are for the individual subject,--in every other respect existence
   is indifferent; in the eyes of the Stoic, existence is truth only in so
   far as it appears in the subject; the sage is the embodiment of the
   moral order of the universe, which, apart from him, exists but very
   imperfectly. In both systems the higher thought of Plato, namely, that,
   by the moral, the real harmony of existence, the harmony between nature
   and spirit, is realized, is one-sidedly perverted; the Epicurean
   effects this harmony only by sacrificing the rationally-personal spirit
   to nature, the Stoic by sacrificing nature to the individual personal
   spirit; it is no longer a harmonizing, but a giving up, of one of the
   two phases of existence.

   Though Stoic ethics is in many respects graver, and more worthy of man
   than Epicurean, nevertheless both systems are equally remote from the
   Christian view. The Epicurean does not recognize the spiritual
   personality as the highest factor; the Stoic does not recognize the
   rights of objective reality; but Christianity recognizes both as
   absolutely belonging to each other. In both systems, the natural man,
   the individual subject, thrusts himself in his fortuitous reality into
   the foreground, as having the highest claims; in both the subject is of
   himself perfectly competent to attain to all perfection,--as no need,
   in this work, either of God or of history; neither has even the
   faintest presentiment of the moral significancy of history, of humanity
   as a unity. In both, therefore, there is absolutely no humility of
   moral self-denial, but either a mere lustful devotion to
   world-enjoyment, or a haughty contempt of the external world,--and
   hence in neither of them is there the least felt need of redemption;
   the sole redemption from the burden, not of guilt but of an evil world
   of reality, is, suicide with the Stoic, and sensuous intoxication with
   the Epicurean. In neither system is there manifest the least
   approximation to the Christian principle,--no progress beyond Plato and
   Aristotle, but rather simply the moral consciousness of heathenism in
   its incipient dissolution,--which is consummated in Skepticism.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXVI.

   The subjectivism that predominated in Epicurean and Stoic ethics finds
   its consequential and scientifically-rigorous carrying-out,--and at the
   same time Greek and heathen ethics in general, its dissolution and
   honorable self-destruction,--in Scepticism, which declares all judging
   of good and evil as futile, and all modes of action as
   indifferent.--Neo-Platonic philosophy, which seeks to rescue heathenism
   as against Christianity, and which perverts Christian ideas to heathen
   purposes, presents in its but partially developed ethics little more
   than a dreamy mysticism--a quietistic self-merging into the one
   universal divine essence; and it is only for non-philosophers that
   there is need of a, not scientific but, practical code of morals.

   Roman philosophy made no original contributions to ethics. Apart from a
   but slightly independent adoption of the doctrines of Stoicism, it
   presents nothing more than a feebly eclectic character, and does not
   rise beyond superficial calculating observations and opinions.

   Skepticism has often been misunderstood not only in its scientific, but
   also in its world-historical significancy; it arose gradually and, as
   it were, spontaneously, without any one specially prominent founder, as
   a protest of the general rational consciousness against the
   self-sufficiency and presumption of the previously existing
   philosophies,--and, in the sphere of ethics, as the scientific
   conscience of heathenism. Subjectivism, when consequentially carried
   out, leads inevitably to skepticism. Socrates had contended with moral
   earnestness against the subjectivism of the Sophists, and had attempted
   to find a solid basis also for ethical philosophy; in this commendable
   effort, however, he succeeded as little as did, after him, Plato and
   Aristotle and the Stoics. In these efforts they did not rise beyond
   mere formal definitions of the moral, and were obliged to derive the
   material contents of the same from the primarily merely
   fortuitously-determined essence of the individual subject. The sole
   thought that leads to a true basing of the moral consciousness, namely,
   that the moral is the will of God, was only dimly caught sight of, and
   could not in fact, from the heathen stand-point, be carried out with
   any degree of certainty. That, now, the vail was torn off from the
   false method of taking the finite subject as the criterion and the
   infallible source of universally-valid and objective truth, and of
   attributing to subjective opinion an absolutely valid objective
   significancy, and that subjectivism was exposed in all its nakedness
   and invalidity,--this was the scientific service of Skepticism,--which,
   having shown traces of itself as early as in the age of Aristotle
   (Pyrrho), attained to greater prevalence in the century before Christ
   (Ænesidemus of Alexandria), and fully developed itself in the second
   century after Christ (Sextus Empiricus), and thus like a devouring rust
   gradually undermined the last self-confidence of heathen philosophy,
   save in so far as it did not seek refuge. behind the mystical nebulae
   of Neo-Platonicism.

   Skepticism is in fact simply the product of the antithesis between
   Epicureanism and Stoicism. The former said: the feeling of pleasure and
   displeasure alone decide as to the morally-good; the latter said: not
   feeling but thinking decides; Skepticism lets the two cancel each
   other, and says: neither feeling nor thinking is capable of any real
   decision as to what is good. Man cannot at all know what is per se
   good; all our feelings, experiences and thoughts have merely and
   exclusively a subjective significancy,--furnish no truth in regard to
   things per se. This is not a mere feeble courting of doubt, not a mere,
   "I know not whether this or that is good," but a decisive, "I know
   positively that I cannot know it, and I know also that there is nothing
   that is per se good;" and this knowledge of the lack of knowledge is
   the true wisdom and the true virtue. What is good or not good is
   determined solely by civil law and by adopted custom, and there is no
   occasion for seeking for another or higher basis therefor. Nothing is
   per se, and in its essence good or evil. This consideration furnishes
   the basis for true soul-repose and happiness,--seeing that we then need
   no longer be disturbed by feelings of desire or of disgust, but that we
   look upon every thing with calm indifference. The true and highest good
   consists therefore in this, that we be absolutely indifferent toward
   all things that are usually regarded as goods. As, on one occasion,
   during a storm, Pyrrho saw some swine very unconsciously devouring
   their food, he is said to have exclaimed: "The wise man must also be
   equally imperturbable!" If there were any thing that is good or evil
   per se, all men would be found to see it; whereas in fact the judgments
   of men differ in all things, and the opposing philosophic schools
   proclaim the most opposite things as good or evil. The truth is, that
   in every case, the judgment as to good or evil is determined by the
   spiritual or bodily peculiarity of the person judging, and hence gives
   no certainty as to the essence of the thing per se, but is always
   simply indicative as to what chances to seem good or evil to him. Hence
   a science of the moral, a system of ethics, is absolutely impossible,
   and all teaching as to the moral is futile. But, as now,
   notwithstanding this, it is necessary to live and act in some manner,
   so it is most advisable to act according to the existing laws and
   customs,--not, however, because they are good, but because this course
   is most advantageous.--Though Sextus Empiricus,--who has said most on
   this head,--does not show his best powers on the field of ethics, yet
   it is not to be denied that his attacks against the results of all
   previous ethics contain much truth, and that from the heathen
   stand-point the Skeptics were, on the whole, justified in their doubts.
   Their skepticism gives evidence of a significant self-consciousness in
   heathen science; and even though its results were unsatisfactory, still
   there was need of just such a radical sifting and exposure in order to
   bring to sober reflection the falsely-secure and self-deluding spirit
   of heathenism, and to render it more receptive for a better-founded
   world-theory.

   Neo-Platonic ethics can hardly be regarded as a genuine phase of Greek
   thought proper. Entering the lists in antagonism to the new world-power
   of Christianity for the purpose of rescuing heathenism, mingling
   together into a nebulous conglomerate all the fragmentary notions of
   Oriental and Occidental religions and philosophies, and supplementing
   them with Christian thoughts, Neo-Platonic philosophy manifests also in
   its but crudely-formed ethics little more than the distressful features
   of a spirit slowly and painfully dying of the mere senility of age,--a
   spirit which, without considerate choice of its means, is feverishly
   possessed with the one desire of arousing up by artificial
   nerve-stimuli its already half-dead life-forces to one last desperate
   up-flickering into life,--a tragically-grand desperation-effort of a
   mortally-wounded combatant,--the titanic rebounding of the spirit of
   antiquity when pierced through the heart by the arrow of a higher form
   of truth; (Plotinus, the greater disciple of Ammonius Saccas, the
   founder of the school, living mostly in Rome, ob. A. D. 270; his
   disciple Porphyry, ob. A. D. 304; Proclus, who lived mostly at Athens,
   ob. A. D. 485--the last philosopher of Occidental heathenism.)

   Deviating from all previous Greek philosophy, the Neo-Platonists place
   the idea of God in the fore-ground, and deduce from it, and bring in
   relation to it, all principles of morality. But this God-idea itself is
   further remote from the Biblical idea of God than is even that of Plato
   and Aristotle. God is no longer the infinite personal Reason, but the
   absolutely undetermined abstract Unity, which unfolds itself, in
   Pantheistic emanation, into the world of multiplicity,--which world is
   consequently not a separate reality different from God, but simply the
   shadow of God himself,--the reverse-side of the divine, the fading-away
   of the pure divine light, and hence of essentially negative
   essence.--Now as all knowledge must aim at beholding all things in God
   and God in all things, hence also all moral activity is directed
   exclusively to this one end, namely, to unite one's self with God, to
   press one's self out of the world of plurality, to renounce one's self
   as an individual being, to wish to be and actually to be nothing more
   than a transient phase of the alone truly-existing unitary divine
   essence. The moral activity aims not at the producing of a real world
   of the good different from God,--aims not at realizing any thing which
   is not already real and perfect from eternity, but, on the contrary,
   aims at reducing back the soul from its immersion in the world of
   reality into the solely and the alone-existing good, that is, into God.
   God is not merely the highest good, but in fact the absolutely sole
   good; and whatever is different from God is, in so far as it is so, not
   truly good. Hence the sole path of salvation is the return from
   plurality to unity, and the first and most essential condition thereto
   is the beholding of God, an indulging in a mystical speculation, which
   is possible only in that one forgets one's self,--spiritually dies
   away,--so as to permit God alone to prevail. The more I am a particular
   self-hood claiming personality, so much the more remote am I from God.
   Morality consists, therefore, not in a developing of this personality,
   but in a suppressing of it, not in a becoming like God, but in fact in
   becoming God himself. The self-conscious personality is not the
   God-like, but the God-foreign; for God himself is not a personality--is
   not this or that--has no manner of determinateness, but is that which
   is sublime above all determinateness, all quality, and hence also above
   spiritual personality; whatever is in any manner determined is not God,
   but has gone out from God, and hence is, in so far, extra-divine; and
   the same path which reality has traversed in passing firom undetermined
   unity to manifoldly-determined plurality, morality traverses again in
   the' opposite direction,--passes back from plurality and
   determinateness to the unitary and undetermined. In all these phases of
   thought, an Indian influence is unmistakable.

   As true cognizing is not dialectical but contemplative, namely, a
   spiritual beholding of God, so also true morality is not an
   outward-going activity, but rather a non-acting, a restraining of
   active volition, a dissolving of all particular personal volitionating
   into the one divine essence. Whoever has the highest good needs and
   wishes for no other good. But the highest good exists in no sense
   whatever apart from God, in the world, but solely in the
   reality-transcending and indeterminate God. For such an outward
   working, such a creating of a real kingdom of the good, there is no
   occasion whatever; for all that really exists is good already in so far
   as it is the divine essence, and hence cannot be an object of change or
   resistance; and in so far as it is the divine essence as
   self-estranged, it is evil, and hence should not be loved and
   confirmed; there remains, therefore, for the moral activity no other
   work than simply to withdraw itself from the world and, not so much
   into itself as much rather, into God. Hence there is no need of
   striving, of combatting, and of laboring, but only of reposing; to the
   eternal keeping-silence, the eternal repose, of God, corresponds the
   silent repose of the sage and moral man. Active virtue is not the
   highest form of morality, but is only a praiseworthy moral quality of
   such as have not yet risen to the stage of true wisdom,--Such are the
   chief fundamental thoughts of this Neo-Platonic philosophy, the
   influence of which made itself felt as late as in the Christian
   mysticism of the Middle Ages. On the whole, we could not properly
   expect from this last attempt of heathen philosophy at
   self-preservation, any rigorous consequential carrying-out of
   fundamental principles; and hence we in fact often find thoughts in it
   which but imperfectly harmonize with it as a system. Still, the most of
   these seemingly irreconcilable views are doubtless to be accounted for
   in the light of the distinction which it made between wisdom proper
   (which is attainable only for the elect few) and the moral instruction
   of the populace at large. For the latter there is in fact need of other
   moral precepts, seeing that men at large are not yet in such a
   condition as to be able, through beholding and yielding, to merge
   themselves into the absolutely One.

   Roman philosophy, though enjoying high repute in the Middle Ages, and
   even as late as in the last century, has, however, for the
   philosophical development of the science of ethics scarcely any
   significance. The Stoic Romans did little more than indulge in general
   popular discussions on the philosophy they had adopted from the Greeks;
   the Epicurean Romans simply applied their views practically. Cicero is
   simply a discreet Eclectic, though without speculative genius. He
   discusses moral questions in clear but superficial processes of
   reasoning, without finding for them a firm philosophical ground, or a
   really scientific solution. The rhetorical form of his
   ethico-philosophical writings does not redeem them from that
   tediousness which inheres in any verbose display of unprofound
   observations. Zealously opposing Epicureanism, Cicero holds fast in
   general to the Stoic system, modifying it with Platonic, Aristotelian
   and other elements, and this too not without many instances of
   misunderstanding. His most important ethical work is his De officiis,
   which is based mostly on the Stoic Panaetius. In this work he examines,
   first, the notion of the morally-good (honestum), then that of the
   useful (utile), and the mutual relation of these so often conflicting
   principles. The "useful" he finds to be only seemingly different from
   the good; the fact is, whatever is good is also useful, and whatever is
   truly useful is also good, not, however, for the reason that it is
   useful, but the converse; hence to strive after the good renders
   necessarily at the same time also happy. Of the other writings of
   Cicero, belong also here the Quaestiones academ., the Disputationes
   Tusculanae, and his essays: De senectute, De amicitia, De legibhus, De
   finibus.--Cicero blames, in the Stoics, that they conceive of the good
   only partially, that they regard not the entire man, but only his
   spiritual phase, and lightly esteem the corporeal, so that in fact
   while professing to follow nature they do not do her justice,--that
   they place on an equal footing all the virtues as well as all the
   vices, and admit no intermediate gradations, and also that because of
   their one-sidedness they involve themselves in many contradictions.
   Though finding the source of the moral consciousness in reason,--which
   is an efflux from the divine reason, and by which therefore we become
   like God,--he yet derives ethics only in a very slight degree from the
   essence of reason itself, but rather from the experience of life. From
   this lack of a firm philosophical foundation, we can understand why
   Cicero placed an especially high value on his discussion upon the
   collision of duties. On the condition of a real deduction of the
   various forms of duty from one fundamental principle, there would be no
   possible place for such a discussion; but to the moralist who takes his
   starting-point from empirical observation, this field appears as of
   especial difficulty and importance. The question: Which of several
   morally good actions which cannot be reconciled with each other is to
   be chosen as the better? Cicero answers very unsatisfactorily and
   unphilosophically, on the mere ground of the social comfortableness
   resulting therefrom (De off., i, 43 sqq.). Nor does he succeed in all
   his sonorous periods on universal benevolence, etc., in rising beyond
   the narrow views characteristic of heathen ethics.--Plutarch, a Greek
   with Roman education (about A. D. 100,) furnishes in his numerous moral
   writings many good observations on the moral lifes and gives evidence
   of a noble disposition of soul, though he does not rise beyond popular
   essays and observations, relating for the most part to particular moral
   topics,--gives neither a system, nor rigorous, clear principles. In
   general he follows Plato, and rejects the extremes both of Epicureanism
   and Stoicism.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  B.--OLD-TESTAMENT AND JEWISH ETHICS.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXVII.

   The ethics of the Old Testament presents, in its entire essence, a
   direct contrast to all heathen ethics. Without systematic form and
   without scientific development, it is yet perfectly self-consistent in
   its ground, its essence and its end. In harmony with the idea of God as
   a spirit absolutely independent of nature, and himself omnipotently
   conditioning the whole sphere of nature, the ground of all morality is
   absolutely and exclusively God's holy will as revealed to the free
   personal creature; the essence of the moral is free, loving obedience
   to the revealed divine will; the ultimate end of morality is the
   realizing of perfect God-likeness, and hence also of perfect
   God-sonship and bliss, not merely for the individual, not merely for
   the people Israel, butt for all humanity,--and hence the realization of
   a humanity-embracing kingdom of God; the most immediate historical end,
   however, is to impart a knowledge of the need of redemption from
   depravity as incurred by the sin of man himself. Hence the law appears
   in fact predominantly, not as an inner natural one, but as a purely
   positive, objective, historically-revealed one, in order that man may
   become conscious of his natural estrangement from the truth. In this
   form it does not have an ultimately definitive, but a transitory and
   essentially disciplinary end; and the realization of the kingdom of God
   can only be prepared for, but not fully accomplished, by the Israelitic
   people; it is a morality of hope.

   As in the presentation of Christian ethics, further on, we shall have
   to glance in considerable detail also at its historical antecedent,
   namely, Old Testament ethics, hence we need here give only the general
   characteristics of the latter. [98]

   The antagonism of the moral idea of the Old Testament to the views of
   collective heathenism, is radical and fundamental; there is here no
   shadow of a transition from the latter to the former. Pre-Christian
   revealed ethics dld not, however, have a scientific, systematic form,
   and indeed could not have it, inasmuch as the key to its correct
   understanding was to be given only in the days of the Messiah, and as
   the Hebrews were not to be a perfect, independently-developed nation,
   but to find their full truth only in Christianity.--The Hebrews do not
   undertake to find the ground of the moral consciousness in the human
   spirit itself, for the man whom they know as real is no longer the pure
   image of God,--has no longer the unobscured natural consciousness of
   God and of the moral,--and even unfallen man needed to be awakened to
   this consciousness by the revelation of Gold. The entire ground of the
   moral consciousness is therefore sought in God's positive revelation to
   man, as indeed the ground of the moral on the whole is absolutely the
   holy will of God,--not as an abstract law immanent in, though partially
   hidden from, human reason, but as an express command of the personal
   God and made known to man by a historical act of revelation. God speaks
   and man hearkens; and the moral activity is in its entire essence a
   child-like obeying of the divine command made upon man. Here there is
   no longer any room for a doubt, unless it be a sinful one,--no need of
   a philosophical analysis. In case there is need in particular
   conjunctures for a more definite decision, then God gives it himself,
   either directly, as with the patriarchs and the divinely-called and
   enlightened prophets, or, mediately, through the sa-me, or indeed also
   through specific signs, such as the lot [Num. xxvi, 55, 56; xxxiii, 54;
   xxxiv, 13; Josh. vii, 14 sqq.; xiii, 6; xiv, 2; xviii, 6 sqq.; xix, 1
   sqq.; xxi, 4 sqq.; 1 Sam. x, 20 sqq.; Prov. xvi, 33; xviii, 18], the
   high-priestly Urim and Thummim [Ex. xxviii, 30; Num. xxvii, 21; 1 Sam.
   xxiii, 6 sqq.; xxviii, 6; xxx, 7, 8; comp. 2 Sam. ii, 1; v, 19, 23
   sqq.], and others [1 Sam. xiv, 8 sqq., comp. Gen. xxiv, 12 sqq.]. The
   command of God to man presents itself in a strictly positive definite
   form: "thou shalt," "thou shalt not," "thou mayest."' For any other
   reason than God's will, man has no right to ask; he is simply to
   believe the word of God--this alone leads him to righteousness. To
   personal free self-determination and maturity, man is to attain simply
   and solely through child-like faith-obedience to the word of the
   Father. He who questions and hesitates where God speaks, cannot
   possibly be moral, since he is lacking in faith. Unhesitating,
   unreluctant, joyous submission to God's definite command, is the
   beginning, the end and the essence of all morality. Types of such
   faith-obedience are Noah [Gen. vi, 22; vii, 5], Abraham [xii, 4],
   Jacob, Moses, Samuel, David, and others. The simple fact that God wills
   it, is the absolutely sufficient reason; the fear of God is the
   beginning of wisdom. The antecedent condition of the moral, as lying in
   the bosom of man himself, is, however, the image of God--the pure
   knowledge and the untrammeled will of moral freedom. Man should, but he
   is not compelled; his salvation is placed within his own hand; the
   thought, "If thou hearkenest to my word, it shall go well with thee,"
   pervades the entire Old Testament from beginning to end. Between God
   and man there subsists an absolutely personally-moral relation. Even as
   God, as the true and perfect personality, is the holy prototype of all
   morality, and as the simple thought of this God is directly presented
   as the perfectly sufficient ground for all moral life: "Ye shall be
   holy, for I the Lord your God am holy" [Lev. xi, 45; xix, 2], "I am the
   almighty God, walk before me and be thou perfect" [Gen. xvii, 1],--so
   also is man's complete personality recognized and respected by God even
   in the already sin-corrupted race. God does not himself immediately
   work all willing and acting in man, does not force him to obedience,
   but He makes a covenant with man, with his people,--comes as a holy
   personality into moral relation to man as a free moral personality. The
   fulfillment of the covenant-promise is conditioned on the
   covenant-fidelity of man.

   The purpose, the goal of the moral is not the merely individual
   perfection of the moral subject, but it is, on the one hand, the
   salvation and perfection of the whole human race,--a thought entirely
   unknown to heathendom--and, on the other, the full and blissful
   life-communion of the person with God; "I will be your God, and ye
   shall be my people" [Lev. xxvi, 12; Jer. vii, 23];--not merely the
   individual subject but the moral community, the people of God (entire
   humanity is to become this people), is to be received into this
   communion with God.

   Immediately upon the creation of man the thought of the moral presents
   itself clearly and definitely [Gen. i, 26-ii, 24]. (1.) The objective
   presupposition of the moral is presented, namely, the living personal
   God as the prototype of man and of his life, and nature as good and
   normal and as existing independently over against man,--and, then, the
   subjective presupposition, namely, man as a personal spirit like unto
   his Creator.--(2.) The goal of morality as a task, a duty, namely, the
   realizing and completing of the divine image, is expressed under one of
   its phases, as the dominion of man over nature; this implies the
   realization of free personal spirituality in likeness to God--the
   legitimate "being as God." In the strong emphasizing of this dominion
   over nature, (so utterly in contrast to all actual experience,) there
   is plainly indicated the ideal essence of the moral task; its full
   realization however is not to be attained to at once, but is the final
   goal, and lies in the future. In striking contrast to all heathen
   views, according to which man is either absolutely subject to nature,
   or at least has nature before him as a cramping, and
   never-entirely-to-be-overcome power, we have here the true relation of
   the rational spirit to nature, namely, his complete freedom, his
   destination to entire mastery over it, that is, we have the full
   personality of man as the key-stone of the collective morally-religious
   world-theory. That this dominion of the spirit over nature is not to be
   a childish magical interfering with nature, is evident from the simple
   fact that man is called to it only as being an image of the
   nature-dominating God, and that immediately before and after his call
   thereto the God-established permanent regularity of nature is alluded
   to as in some sense a right of nature, and that man is at once directed
   to the orderly and conserving culture of nature [ii, 15]. The dominion
   over nature is not the entire goal of the moral striving, it is,
   however, a very expressive suggestion of, the same, and is within the
   comprehension of the child-like and as yet immature spirit.--(3.) The
   legitimate freedom of choice and its enjoyment are guaranteed to man as
   a right, in the sphere of the discretionary [i, 28-30; ii, 16].--(4.)
   The unambiguous declaration is made that morality is not a something
   belonging merely to the individual person, but that on the contrary man
   can accomplish his task only as a member of a moral community; it is
   not good that man should be alone; he ought not to remain in isolation,
   but should form a part of a family, should enter into association with
   moral humanity, and it is only on this condition that the good is truly
   realizable for the subject.--(5.) In the anticipatory allusion to the
   observance of the Sabbath as based on the divine example [ii, 2, 3] is
   presented the ideal phase of human activity,--the re-collecting of the
   personal spirit from the distractions of the outer life into the calm
   of meditation; man is not at liberty completely to merge himself into
   earthly temporal cares,--should constantly have before him, in all his
   temporal activity, also the eternal as the true and highest good. The
   heathen either buries himself up in temporal activity and enjoyment, or
   contemptuously turns himself entirely away from the same; the saint of
   the Old Testament lives and acts in God's good-created world, but does
   not merge himself into it,--withdraws himself from it into the Sabbath
   repose of a heart in communion with its God. In the simple feature of
   Sabbath observance itself, Old Testament morality presents itself in
   sharp and definite contrast to all heathen ethics, and places the moral
   task of man higher than the latter.

   Hebrew ethics, however, does not linger, as was almost exclusively the
   case with heathen ethics, in the purely ideal sphere,--in the
   consideration of the good per se,--does not conceive of evil as a mere
   possibility or as a merely exceptional or isolated reality, or as a
   nature-necessity back of all human guilt (which are all, in fact,
   heathen views)--but looks evil earnestly and squarely in the face, and
   regards it as a sad, all-prevalent reality, the guilt of which lies in
   the free act of man, and is participated in by all without exception.
   The morality of the chosen people of God looks, therefore, not merely
   to a warding off and an avoiding of evil as a something as yet external
   to our heart, and merely threatening us, but to a zealous, constant
   combating of the same, not outside of us in an originally defective
   world, but within in the inmost guilt-laden heart of the subject
   himself. Sin is of historical origin,--an historical reality and power;
   and morality, the nature of which presents itself now quite
   predominantly as a vigorous combating against sin, appears also itself
   in a uniformly historical character,--is promoted and guided by a
   divine history-chain of ever richer-unfolding gracious guidances, and
   gives rise to a moral history, to a redemption-history, to a kingdom of
   God here upon earth inside of humanity,--at first, in faith and hope,
   and afterwards (after it has reached the goal promised by God from the
   very start, and embraced by the people with pious confidence, and kept
   constantly in view) in full, blissful reality. Heathenism knows indeed
   evil, knows vice, but it does not know sin, for sin is of a
   morally-historical character; hence it knows also of no historical
   overcoming of the same, no expecting, no preparing for, nor realization
   of, a kingdom of God in humanity; the Persians alone have an obscure
   presentiment thereof, perhaps not without a ray of light received from
   the people of God, with whom they were in contact, and whom, from their
   residence among them, they learned highly to esteem.

   On the entrance of sin into the world there arises at once a separation
   among men between those who permit themselves to be fettered by sin and
   those who retain God and his salvation in view, between the children of
   the world and the children of God; God, however, looks in compassionate
   love also upon the former and plans for them a redemption, the
   world-historical preparation of which is confided to that people which
   He separates out from among the men of sin, and paternally guides; God
   separates to himself the man of faith,--him who trusts in God with
   rock-like firmness and cheerfully and unconditionally obeys his word
   even where he is unable to comprehend it and where it diametrically
   contradicts his own natural consciousness. God places before Abraham,
   from the very start, not a merely personal, but a world-historical
   goal: "In thee shall all the families of the earth be blessed" [Gen.
   xii, 3], and he repeats this promise again and again in progressively
   more definite features; as in Adam all die, so in Abraham are all
   nations to be blessed and to be brought to the Accomplisher of
   Salvation. For the first time in the history of humanity we find here,
   and in contrast to all heathendom, a definite world-historical goal of
   the moral life; not man, but God has established it in compassionating
   grace, and has sealed it in successive and progressively richer
   promises; and an individual man is elected to co-operate in the
   fulfilling of this promise, which is not given to him as an individual
   but to humanity,--to cooperate in such a sense as that this man, that
   this people itself, may become capable of really participating in the
   fruit of the redemption accomplished by the act of grace,--by becoming
   the maternal womb which is to bear and give birth to the Saviour. But
   the individual has part in this moral work only when he accepts the
   promise in faith, and it is only when he accepts the promise in faith,
   and only on the basis of this faith, that he is able to attain to true
   obedience of life.

   This people, so strictly cut off from all the rest of the race, this
   people hated, oppressed, down-trodden by the rest of mankind, becomes
   thus, from the very beginning, of world-historical significance, in a
   much higher sense than any other pre-Christian people. The heathen
   nations which actively entered into and shaped history sought only
   themselves but not humanity; the Israelitic people, shut up exclusively
   to the promise and to faith,--a people already spiritually developed
   and molded into a moral organism before it had as yet where to lay its
   head, and which was as yet seeking its earthly home,--a spiritual
   people without any nature-basis, and which received its earthly home
   only as a gracious gift of God, conferred on moral conditions [Lev.
   xxv, 23],--this people, in its God-willed and commanded separation from
   all heathen nations, in its so often, even up to the present day,
   reproached "particularism," was, after all, absolutely the only people
   which had in view, from the beginning, the true "universalism,"
   (namely, the salvation of collective humanity), as its highest goal,
   and which sought to do nothing else than to prepare the way for this
   salvation of humanity [Gen. xii, 3; xviii, 18; xxii, 18; xxvi, 4; Deut.
   xxxii, 43; 1 Chron. xvi, 23, 28; Isa. ii, 2 sqq.; xi, 10 sqq.; xxv, 6
   sqq.; xlii, 1, 6; xlv, 20, 22, 23; xlix, 6; lii, 15; liv, 3; lv, 5; lx;
   lxi, 11; lxii, 2; lxv, 1; lxvi, 18 sqq.; Jer. iv, 2; xvi, 19; Amos ix,
   11, 12; Hag. ii, 7 (8); Zech. ii, 11; vi, 15; viii, 20 sqq.; xiv, 16;
   Micah iv, 1 sqq.; Mal. i, 11; Psa. ii, 8; xviii, 49; lxvii, 2; lxxii, 8
   sqq.; lxxxvi, 9, 10; xcvi, 7, 10; cii, 15; cxvii, 1]. The Israelites
   had therefore, from the very beginning, the deepest interest for
   history, and for the goal of history as clearly presented by prophetic
   promise; the divine prophetic benedictions upon the patriarchs relate
   much less to their own person than to the history of humanity as
   proceeding from them; the Hebrew is clearly conscious that all his
   moral striving contributes to conduct the God-guided current of history
   to the God-promised realization of salvation; instead of the gloomy,
   despairing tragic consciousness of the most highly cultured of all the
   heathen nations, we find here a full confidence in the ultimate
   fulfillment of the redemption longed-for by man and promised by God.

   The Israelites have and could have this high world-historical mission
   only because they were made to conceive of themselves from the very
   beginning as, not a nature-people, but as a spiritual people which
   obtained for itself its natural prosperity only through moral fidelity.
   As the people of God, they name themselves not Hebrews, from their
   natural descent, nor yet from Abraham, nor from Isaac, nor indeed from
   Jacob's first name, but from his later God-given name, Israel, which he
   received after he had wrestled with the angel [Gen. xxx, 24 sqq]. From
   Abraham and Isaac descend also other tribes, which do not belong to the
   people of God; only Jacob's descendants belong all thereto. Nor is
   Jacob the progenitor of the people of God in his earlier self-willed
   and self-confiding life, but solely in his spiritually-transformed
   life, after that, praying and beseeching, he had wrestled, in bitter
   repentance, with Jehovah as offended at his many sins and deceits, and
   after that, in self-denying humility having put off all
   self-righteousness, he had thrown himself child-like at the feet of God
   and confided all his well-being to His blessing. It becomes the people
   of Israel, as a spiritual people, to have also a spiritual and not a
   merely natural man as their father, and the true bearing of this father
   to God is expressed in the words: "I will not let thee go unless thou
   bless me." Whoever would belong to this spiritual people of God must
   divest himself of all his mere naturalness; this is symbolized by the
   covenant-token of the people with God, circumcision.

   The Israelite, in his moral strivings, has the highest good hopefully
   and confidently in view, and not for the individual person alone, but
   for humanity.-- The idea of the highest good, the fundamental thought
   of all morality, has, in the Old Testament history, a very distinct
   development. It appears in God's promises, on the one hand, as a grace,
   and, on the other, as a reward for trusting fidelity,--neither of which
   is by any means to be separated from, or regarded as contradictory to,
   the other. In the first blessing after the creation, as we have already
   seen, the thought of the highest good is already indicated; by sin,
   however, the blessing is changed into a curse, the highest good is
   thrown into the far distant, and is only obscurely alluded to in the
   promise of the ultimate victory of the seed of the woman over the seed
   of the serpent [Gen. iii, 15], and henceforth the thought of the
   highest good is associated with the victory over evil, with redemption.
   And though mankind,--originally destined to possess the whole earth
   [Gen. i, 28; Matt. v, 5],--receive now merely in small numbers, as
   members of the people of God, only a very small space of the earth for
   their possession, yet is also this typical foretaste of the possession
   of the highest good associated at the same time with promises of
   victory over the sin-symbolizing heathen inhabitants thereof; the
   highest good even in its feeblest foretastes is conditioned on trustful
   struggle and victory. In the blessing upon Noah [Gen. ix] there are
   indicated as the highest good, in the first place, the multiplication
   of the human race through Noah, and the dominion over nature (now,
   after thle fall into sin, under a somewhat changed form), and, then, in
   the express covenant of God with Noah, the full personal communion of
   believing man with God. To Abraham, the prophetic benediction is
   essentially enlarged, including the multiplication of his family under
   God's guidance, the guaranteeing of an earthly father-land as a gift of
   God, and the blessing of entire humanity through the people of God as
   springing from him. God had expressly called Abraham away from his
   natural father-land; he is to receive another one in its stead, one
   that is morally acquired from God's hand through believing submission
   to God; all earthly good is to bear also a spiritual character, is to
   be an outgrowth from spiritual good; even the most natural earthly
   good, the home, is to be obtained as a grace in reward of faith.
   Homeless upon earth for several centuries, the people Israel are to
   find, first, their eternal home, so as, then, after having been trained
   by God's hand, and ripened for his service through sufferings and
   submission, to receive an earthly one as a gift of grace; and this home
   is to be for them a symbol of the eternal one, a shadow of the highest
   good. Even in the first promise to Abraham, there beams out through
   this earthly good a faint gleam of the heavenly one: "in thee shall all
   families of the earth be blessed;" Abraham is to be, not merely by his
   example of faith, but also really, by his family, the beginning of a
   kingdom of God for entire humanity; to be himself in this kingdom of
   blessing, and this kingdom in him, this is, for him, the highest good.
   Exactly similar promises of temporal and likewise spiritual goods, God
   gives to Isaac and to Jacob [Gen. xxvi, 3-5; xxviii, 13-15; comp. xxxv,
   9-11; xlviii, 4]; Isaac's blessing upon his son Jacob relates, it is
   true, primarily only to temporal good [xxvii, 28, 29]; xxviii, 3, 4],
   but nevertheless with allusion to the higher good. It is true, temporal
   well-being [Gen. xxxix, 2, 3, 5, 23; Lev. xxvi, 3 sqq.; Deut. v, 29;
   vi, 3, 18, 24; vii, 13 sqq.; viii, 6 sqq.; xi, 9 sqq., 21 sqq.; xii,
   28; xv, 4-6, 10; xxviii, 1 sqq., comp. Psa. lxxxi, 13, 14], and a
   continuance in the land, and long life [Exod. xx, 12; xxiii, 26; Deut.
   iv, 40; v, 33; vi, 2; xxx, 2 sqq.; xxxii, 47], are very often
   presented,--not indeed with reference merely to the individual, but
   also to the nation, as a divine blessing for pious fidelity,--as a high
   good and end; but as early as at the time of the actual conclusion of
   the covenant of God with the people on Sinai, the highest good appears
   as of a spiritual character: "If ye will obey my voice indeed and keep
   my covenant, then ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto me above all
   people; for all the earth is mine; and ye shall be unto me a kingdom of
   priests and a holy nation" [Exod. xix, 5, 6]; the highest blessing is
   the peace of God [Num. vi, 26; Psa. xxix, 11], the love of God, the
   compassion of God, and his covenant with men [Deut. vii, 9, 12, 13;
   xiii, 17, 18], so that they "may live long" [Deut. v, 33] and that God
   might be their "righteousness" [vi, 25]; and in the first commandment:
   "I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have no other gods before me" [Exod.
   xx, 2, 3], the objective phase of the highest good is definitely
   expressed; any thing else, save God, that man might regard as the
   highest good, is in fact but a worthless idol; and hence the rejection
   of the covenant of grace works an everlasting rejection of him who
   rejects it [1 Chron. xxviii, 9].

   In view of this high spiritual conception of-the highest good, it
   appears as in the highest degree a surprising fact that the thought of
   a life after death is not directly brought to bear upon the moral
   life,--is not presented as a motive of action, or as a phase of the
   highest good,--a peculiarity that is all the more striking when we
   consider that the children of Israel had lived for four centuries in
   Egypt, and that Moses had been educated in the wisdom of this country,
   where precisely this thought of immortality very powerfully shaped the
   entire moral and religious life, and when we further consider that this
   thought itself was most unquestionably recognized among the children of
   Israel [Gen. v, 24; xv, 15; xxv, 8; xxxvii. 35; xlix, 26, 29, 33; Deut.
   xxxi, 16; xxxii, 50; 1 Sam. xxviii; Job xxvi, 5; 2 Kings ii; Psa. xvi,
   10; xlix, 15; Prov. xv, 24], as it would also be naturally presumable
   that a people which places so high a value upon the personality, could
   not be ignorant of this thought, which so largely prevailed throughout
   heathendom. This manifestly intentional placing in the back-ground of
   the thought of immortality as bearing upon the moral life, is to be
   explained from the peculiarity of the purpose which God had with this
   nation, in view of the salvation of mankind.--(1.) The people of Israel
   is a world-historical one as no other ante-Christian people was; the
   entire hopes and striving of the nation are directed toward the
   ultimate salvation of the human race as the highest goal; the primarily
   feeble, but constantly more definite-growing Messianic thought throws
   temporarily into the back-ground the interest in future life of the
   individual person. The entire hope of Israel looks forward to the
   highest good, the true salvation, but this highest good consists, even
   for the pious Israelite, only in the future redemption that is to be
   accomplished by a world-historical divine act; the Redeemer had first
   to spring from the line of David before the life after death could have
   real worth for the saint, or be his highest good; before this event,
   the transmundane life was a beclouded one, not only for the
   consciousness, but also per se,--was not as yet a truly blissful life
   in the presence of God [Psa. vi, 5; xlix, 15 sqq.; lxxxviii, 10-13;
   cxv, 17; Isa. xxxviii, 18]. As Abraham rejoiced that he should see the
   day of the Lord [John viii, 56], so also longed Abraham's seed for this
   day, from which time forth, only, the life after death could be a truly
   blessed one. The saints of the Old Covenant did not pass their lives as
   having no hope, but their hope was primarily an historical one,--was
   fixed upon the historical fulfillment of the promises, and aspired
   toward a heavenly home only from, and on the basis of, this
   fulfillment.--(2.) Though for the redeemed Christian the thought of a
   future life is a very important element of his moral consciousness,
   nevertheless for the as yet not truly regenerated man there lies in the
   same no inconsiderable danger, namely, the danger of selfish
   reward-seeking, of a narrow-hearted directing of his moral striving
   exclusively toward his personal well-being instead of toward the
   salvation of humanity. Though the saints of the Old Covenant
   participated in many gracious gifts, so that they cannot be regarded as
   merely natural men, still, they were not as yet in the highest sense
   spiritually regenerated; and, in fact, in the necessary
   redemption-preparing requirement of strict obedience to the
   objectively-given law, they stood all the more exposed to this danger
   of regarding their future salvation as a reward for good works, as is
   actually evinced by the rise of Pharisaism. From this danger God
   preserved the Hebrews, in that while He indeed promised them a gracious
   reward for their fidelity, He yet presented as such reward, on the one
   hand, only such goods as most evidently could not be, for the pious,
   the highest good, and, on the other hand, the fulfillment of the divine
   promises within the sphere of history, namely, redemption, so that they
   were necessarily brought to the consciousness that the highest good was
   not the reward of their own works, but the fruit of a future divine act
   of grace.

   Although the law had essentially also the purpose of awakening the
   consciousness of the antagonism of the sinful nature of man against the
   holy will of God, thus implying that the full consciousness of the
   sinful perversion of human nature was a state that had as yet to be
   attained to, nevertheless this consciousness exists from the very
   beginning, and that too very vividly, as we shall hereafter see; and it
   is especially noteworthy that notwithstanding the high reverence which
   the Israelites had for their patriarchs and for the prophets of God,
   still they were very far from regarding them as moral ideals. It is
   true, there are mentioned pious and just men, such as Enoch and Noah;
   and the faithfulness of Abraham shines forth typically even into the
   New Covenant; but they are never presented as real holy types of
   morality, (not even in Gen. xxvi, 4, 5; 2 Chron. vii, 17; Mal. ii, 15);
   on the contrary, the historical records relate, even of the most
   revered characters, manifold sins, and sins which the Israelites
   unquestionably regarded as such; thus, for example, of Abraham [Gen.
   xii, 11 sqq.; xx, 2 sqq.], and of Jacob [xxvii, 14 sqq.; xxxi, 20], and
   of Reuben, of Simeon and Levi [xxxiv, 14 sqq.; xxxv, 22; xlix, 14
   sqq.]; and of the other sons of Jacob [xxxvii]; and of Judah, the
   ancestor of the kings, there is recorded scarcely any thing but evil;
   he even begets Pharez--from whom David, and hence also the Messiah,
   were to descend--in unconscious incest and conscious whoredom
   [xxxviii]; Moses slays the Egyptian and buries him secretly, and this
   was also certainly regarded as a crime [Exod. ii, 11 sqq.]; he resists
   faint-heartedly the divine call, [Exod. iii and iv] and subsequently
   wavers in his faith, and is, for that reason, shut out from the Land of
   Promise [Num. xx, 7 sqq.; Deut. xxxii, 49 sqq.]; and that which is said
   to him holds good in another sense of all the saints of the Old
   Covenant, namely: "thou shalt see the land before thee, but thou shalt
   not enter into it;" and however pre-eminent David and Solomon are in
   courageous faith and in wisdom, still they were- not pure examples even
   for the Israelites; the Israelites knew of only one Servant of God who
   was perfect and pure and holy, namely, the longed-for Anointed of the
   Lord. And accordingly the saints of the Old Covenant kept themselves
   far from all self-glorification, and aspired to a higher goal. The
   undevout self-righteousness and work-holiness of the later Pharisaism
   is totally repugnant to the spirit of the Old Covenant; for the law
   requires most certainly not merely the outward work, but above all and
   essentially also a morally-pious disposition,--bears, in
   contradistinction to the later Jewish outward legality, a very positive
   character of inwardliness. The basis and essence of all morality are
   the requirement, that man "should love God with all his heart, with all
   his soul, and with all his might" [Deut. vi, 5; x, 12; xiii, 3]; he is
   to take the divine law to his heart, and to observe it with his whole
   heart and his whole soul [Deut. v, 29; vi, 6; xi, 13; 18 sqq.; xxvi,
   16; xxx, 2; Josh. xxii, 5]; God desires not merely the external works,
   he requires our heart [1 Chron. xxii, 19; Prov. xxiii, 26]; the saint
   not only fulfills the law, but "his delight is in the law of the Lord"
   [Psa. i, 2; cxii, 1; cxix, 24, 35, 70; Job xxii, 22, 26; Deut. xxviii,
   47]; and all obedience is simply joyous thankfulness for God's gracious
   guidance [Exod. xx, 2 sqq.; Deut. iv and v; vi, 20 sqq.; viii, 3 sqq.;
   x, 19 sqq.; xi, 1; xv, 15; xvi, 12; 1 Chron. xxix, 9 and others]; and
   therefore not merely the sinful act, but equally also the lust to evil,
   is sinful and damnable [Exod. xx, 17; Prov. vi, 25].

   Old Testament morality has essentially a preparatory character,--refers
   forward to a higher and as yet to be acquired morality; hence it bears
   in part a symbolical form,--expressing by external signs, that, the
   full realization of which, was possible only after the time of the
   accomplishment of redemption, and thereby constantly keeping before the
   eyes of the people what the ultimate moral purpose of the divine
   economy with Israel was,--although this purpose could not as yet be
   fully realized. In order to keep constantly awake and to intensify the
   moral consciousness of the antagonism of the divine will to the sinful
   nature which had now become natural to actual man, the antagonism of
   the "clean" and the "unclean" is rigorously insisted upon and carried
   out, and that too not merely in the sphere of the purely spiritual and
   moral, but also in that of nature, where the moral is only symbolically
   prefigured. Man is required to learn, in free obedience, to distinguish
   and choose between the godly and the ungodly, and that too not
   according to his natural impulses and feelings, nor by the merely
   reflective observation and examination of things, but solely by the
   minutely-particularizing positive divine law. To man, as not yet
   actually redeemed and sanctified, but as yet involved and entangled in
   the bonds of sinfulness, the law presents itself, and properly so, as
   of an objectively-revealed character, as foreign to his natural state,
   and to which there is nothing correspondent in his inner nature unless
   it be a loving willingness to unconditional obedience. Educative
   disciplining to obedience is the essential end of many of the positive
   laws, which must consequently appear to the truly emancipated and
   redeemed as a. yoke, whereas, for him who is only as yet struggling
   toward freedom, they are a wholesome discipline.

   Old Testament morality presents a moral task not only to the individual
   person, but it also keeps in view, from the very start, the necessity
   of moral communion. It conceives of the moral significance of the.
   family more highly than any of the heathen systems; in giving to
   reverence for parents a religious ground, it guarantees at the same
   time the moral rights of children as against sinful parents; and if it
   is not as yet able to raise marriage to the height of the Christian
   view, inasmuch as only the truly spiritually-regenerated are in a
   condition to appreciate and fulfill its full significance [Matt. v, 31;
   xix, 8], nevertheless it does give to it the truly religious and moral
   basis. It changes the slavery of Israelites into a very mild
   service-relation, and protects, by extremely humane regulations, that
   of non-Israelites from arbitrary and severe oppressiveness. The
   differences among mankind are no longer natural, but spiritually-moral;
   even foreign slaves have part in the worship and in the blessings of
   the people of God. The moral organization of society into the state is
   presented in the Old Testament, from the very start, in its highest
   moral significancy, as a unity of church and state--as a theocracy--in
   which the entire moral community-life of the people rests on a
   religious basis,--in which Jehovah alone is king, and the God-called
   and enlightened prophets the organs of his will,--organs to whom the
   people submit themselves in believingly joyous obedience. But here
   also, as well as in the case of marriage, God gives simply the
   unambiguous idea, and, because of the hardness of the hearts, concedes
   another state-organization more correspondent to the sinful
   circumstances of the people, namely, the purely human institution of an
   earthly monarchy,--reserving the full realization of the higher idea,
   for the future. But even this earthly kingdom is to be an image of the
   divine kingdom, and the kings, the faithful instruments of the holy
   will of God-kings "after God's own heart;" the Old Testament recognizes
   neither despotic nor democratic caprice-domination as morally
   admissible. Of all this we must speak again further on.

   As Old Testament redemption-history presents essentially an educative
   preparation for the historical accomplishing of the redemption-act,
   hence it is clearly manifest that this preparation must be a
   historically-progressive one, and that consequently Old Testament
   ethics itself must have an historical development. This, as yet, very
   unsatisfactorily-treated portion of Biblical theology cannot, however,
   be fully presented in the brief space to which the plan of our
   historical Introduction confines us; we therefore remark here only two
   points, (1), that the essential character of the moral view (and the
   question is here simply as to essential features) is contradictory to
   the heathen view, and different from the Christian, and, throughout all
   the writings of the Old Testament, self-consistent and the same: and,
   (2), that the prophetic redemption-history is closely connected with
   the legislative, seeing that Moses himself was the greatest among the
   prophets. The prophets, in the narrower sense of the word, do not give
   an essentially new moral revelation, but, on the contrary, uniformly
   proceed on the basis of that of Moses,--referring, on the one hand,
   exhortingly to its requirements, and rebuking the unfaithfulness of the
   people to its spirit, but, on the other, directing attention with
   constantly greater distinctness to the goal of this moral
   development-process of the people of Israel, that is, to their world
   historical destination,--and, above all, they seek to ward against the
   danger of legal holiness and self-sufficiency, the danger of the
   selfish contentment of the single moral subject with his own individual
   development,--which lies in every strictly-developed system of
   laws,--that is, against the danger of a merely external performing of
   the works of the law, as was at a later period actually presented in
   Pharisaism; they earnestly urged to the inner purity of the heart, and
   bring to an increasingly clearer consciousness the morality that
   transcends that of the mere individual, namely, the general moral task
   of the totality, of the people of God. While the earlier ethics has
   more the character of a doctrine of laws and duties, the ethics of the
   prophets bears rather that of a doctrine of goods.--The Proverbs of
   Solomon, in contrast to the Mosaic Laws which present themselves as
   direct revelations from God, consist predominantly in rules of
   practical life-wisdom and life-prudence, drawn from the rich
   life-experience of a heart pious, though indeed often erring, and
   strengthened and ripened in the true fear of God; they appeal therefore
   less to a believing submission to an express divine command than rather
   to the free spontaneous assent, natural to a pious God-consciousness;
   they aim not at the disciplining of a, as yet, morally immature spirit
   by a legal yoke, but at the purifying, ripening and moral strengthening
   of the spirit as already consciously dwelling in God; they are not the
   sternly demanding voice of a prophet, but the witness of a preacher; it
   is not directly Jehovah, but it is the pious servant of God, who speaks
   to the pious, In Moses the question is every-where as to obedience;
   with Solomon the constant theme is wisdom, a quality which is scarcely
   mentioned by Moses, and for the simple reason that the discipline of
   the law needed to precede and prepare the way, before the free
   subjectivity of wisdom could come to realization. This coming into the
   fore-ground of the thought of wisdom evinces the progress of the moral
   consciousness out of the child-like condition of subjection to an
   objective law, to the riper manhood of a freer self-determination on
   the basis of personal moral knowledge. Wisdom is here by no means mere
   worldly prudence, but its beginning and essence is the "fear of the
   Lord" [Prov. i, 7], and complete, hearty, God-confiding is its
   life-spring [iii, 5; xvi], and soul-repose and God's approbation its
   fruit [iii, 12, 18, 22 sqq.; viii, 17, 35; xv, 24; xxviii]; and hence
   for individual man it is the highest good [iii, 13 sqq]. This wisdom is
   very far removed from the "magnanimous" wisdom of the Greeks; it takes
   cognizance above all things of the sinfulness of the natural heart, and
   requires watchfulness over the same [iv, 23] and humility before God
   and man [iii, 34; xi, 2; xvi, 18; xviii, 12; xxvii, 2; xxix, 23]. While
   in the Solomonic Proverbs there is a manifest elevating of Mosaic
   legality toward the personal freedom of the pious sage, still it is not
   to be overlooked that there lies in the stand-point they assume, as in
   contrast to the Mosaic, also the danger that the subjective presumption
   of the individual person may rise to an unwarranted height, and work
   detriment to the true heart-humility that springs from a consciousness
   of one's own want of conformity to the law. And it is not unworthy of
   note that the Christian consciousness of the Apostles found much less
   occasion to appeal to the wisdom of man; they discourse far preferably
   of self-denying, humbly loving faith.--The Ecclesiastes of Solomon,
   after referring to the comfortless experience of a heart temporarily
   immersed in world-enjoyment, totally overthrows all world-pleasure and
   the vain hope of finding in the finite any real good; the mere negative
   knowledge that "all is vanity" prepares the way for a seeking after the
   true, the highest good, which, however, is but remotely suggested
   [Eccles. xii, 7, 13] but not fully presented; the skepticism, at first
   sight so seemingly wide-reaching and so entirely despairing of
   satisfaction, has a back-ground of very profound educative wisdom.

   In the fact that the moral is not derived from the natural conscience
   of man, seeing that the conscience is no longer the pure expression of
   the original God-consciousness, but that, on the contrary, the
   historically-revealed will of God is the exclusive source of the moral
   command, there lies an essential reason why Hebrew ethics did not
   develop itself into a philosophy; the very thought of such a philosophy
   conflicts with the fundamental presuppositions of the Old Testament
   consciousness. The time had not yet come when the conscience, and human
   knowledge in general, had so far become free as to derive truth also
   from within themselves. As yet man was called simply believingly to
   obey, but not freely and philosophically to create.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [98] In addition to general works on Old Testament theology, which
   treat mostly of the ethical phase only incidentally, and to the works
   mentioned in § 5, may be cited, G. L. Bauer: Bibl. Moral des A. T.,
   1803, 2 vols.,--extremely Rationalistic; (Imm. Berger: Prakt. Einl. ins
   A. T., continued by Augusti, 1799-1808, 4 vols.)
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXVIII.

   The Old Testament Apocryphal Books, [99] abandoned by the fire of the
   prophetic spirit, and in part affected by foreign philosophical
   influences, treat predominantly of morality. The moral law,--in the Old
   Testament canon an essential element of the educative divine revelation
   as a whole,--is here considered rather in itself and as unconnected
   with the world-historical goal of the Theocracy, and is thereby
   degraded into a merely individual, empirically-grounded moral
   system.--In the Talmud the law appears as entirely unspiritualized,--as
   fallen into complete lifeless externality, dissolved into its ultimate
   atoms.

   The moral thoughts of the Apocrypha give clear evidence of some degree
   of obscuration of the consciousness of redemption-history, both in
   respect to its presupposition, namely, the fall and its consequences,
   and in regard to its true nature in the Ancient Covenant, and also in
   regard to its historical goal--the expected redemption-act by Christ.
   With the obscuration of this thought go naturally enough hand in hand a
   manifest coming into the fore-ground of a certain holiness by works, in
   the manner of the heathen moralists [comp. Sirach iii, 16, 17 (14, 15),
   33 (30); xxix, 15-17 (12, 13); xvii, 18 (22) sqq.], a one-sided
   laudation of wisdom and righteousness in obliviousness of the question
   whether indeed there are any such wise and righteous persons to be
   found, and also in many respects a proud self-satisfaction with one's
   own wisdom and virtue, together with a censorious and contemptuous
   looking-down upon the unwise and unrighteous many,--a certain
   coldly-rational self-complacent tone, especially in Sirach,--a
   suspicious complaining and an almost bigoted abstaining from true
   love-communion with others [comp. Sirach xi, 30 (29) sqq.; xii; xiii;
   xxv, 10 (7); xxx, 6; xxxiii, 25; sqq.],--a zealous cautioning against
   the wickedness and falseness of others instead of a warning against the
   wickedness and deceptiveness of one's own heart; and there is
   frequently a manifest lack of the proper humility of the truly
   self-understanding conscience; and the obtaining of personal happiness
   is often presented too one-sidedly as a direct motive to virtue, so
   that the ethical view is sometimes tinged with a shallow utilitarianism
   [comp. Sirach xiv, 14 sqq.].--The book of Wisdom, showing traces of
   Alexandrino-Piatonic influences, and accordingly containing the four
   Greek virtues [viii, 7]. does not keep far clear of work-holy boasting
   [ e. g. vii and viii]; and though it admits the sinful corruption and
   weakness of all men [ix; xii, 10 sqq.; xiii, 1 sqq.; ii, 24], it yet
   brings them into a false connection with theories from other sources
   [viii, 19, 20; ix, 15; e. g., pre-existence of the soul, and dualistic
   relation of the body as an essential trammeling of the soul]. The book
   of Sirach gives expression both to a deep piety and to a rich practical
   life-experience, and though in the eyes of Rationalism it is the most
   valuable book of the Old Testament, it is still very far superior to
   modern Rationalistic shallowness [comp. xxv, 32 (24); xl, 15, 16; xli,
   8 (5), sqq.; viii, 6 (5)]; it manifests, however, on the other hand,
   also a want of depth in its view of sinfulness and of the need of
   redemption [comp. xv, 15-17; xxxii, 27 (Septuagint, xxxv, 23); xxxvii,
   17 (13); li, 18 (13) sqq.], and often places the outward ungenerous
   prudence-rules of a distrustful understanding in the stead of higher
   moral ideas [e. g. viii, 1 sqq.; xlii, 6, 7], and, as differing from
   the book of Wisdom, alludes to no supernatural goal of morality in a
   transmundane life; it may indeed teach the spiritually regenerated much
   moral life-wisdom and prudent rational foresight, but it cannot bring
   the natural man to self-acquaintance and humility. From the stand-point
   of Christian ethics, this book is very far remote; the essence of love
   is unknown to it. The book of Judith presents in narrative form a
   highly questionable morality [ix, 2 sqq.; comp. Gen. xxxiv; xlix, 5-7].

   As in Sirach the vigorously-growing tree of Old Testament ethics begins
   to show signs of failing vitality, so in the Talmud (A. D. 200-600) we
   find the dead and decayed or petrified trunk. [100] Abandoned by the
   spirit of faith and hope, the Jews, in their faithlessness to their
   Redeemer, lost also the spirit of love; and human ingenuity changed the
   law which was readily enough borne by hoping faith, into an unspiritual
   yoke utterly subversive of moral fieedom. The strictly objective
   character of the Old Testament law, so necessary for disciplinary
   purposes, had -its vital complement in an expectant faith. This latter
   ele1m.ent becomes in the Talmud deceptive and wavering, and gives place
   almost entirely to the doctrine of the law; and the lifeless, idealess
   law, multiplied thousandfoldly by the ingenuity of human exegesis and
   inference, takes even the most insignificant and external actions into
   a dictatorially-regulative tutelage. Man acts no longer as prompted by
   his inner consciousness, for his inner life-source is dried up, but
   according to the outward law as multiplying its branches through all
   the channels of human life.--The Talmud contains, besides its more
   spiritual elements, which are mostly taken from the Old Testament, a
   system of casuistry unparalleled for its trivial and childish entering
   into minutiae, such as was possible in fact only on just such a soil,
   namely, matured Pharisaism. For the Jew, the authority of the Scribes
   takes the place of the moral conscience; to him who honestly holds fast
   to the law, the multiplicity of precepts becomes a yoke subversive of
   true morality, while to those who are less sincere the manifold
   contradictions in the same give pretext for a disingenuous relaxation
   of duty.

   Observation. Islamism,--which finds its place in the history of the
   religious and moral spirit not as a vital organic member, but as
   violently interrupting the course of this history, and which is to be
   regarded as an attempt of heathenism to maintain itself erect, under an
   outward monotheistic form, against Christianity, and to arm the entire
   unbroken essence of the natural man against the spirit of an inner
   new-birth,--has indeed given rise to a peculiar ethical system, though
   one which has so little of depth peculiar to itself, that we need here
   only allude to it in passing. [101] The ethics of Islam bears the
   character of an outwardly and crudely conceived doctrine of
   righteousness; conscientiousness in the sphere of the social relations,
   faithfulness to conviction and to one's word, and the bringing of all
   action into relation to God, are its bright points; but there is a lack
   of heart-depth, of a basing of the moral in love. The highest good is
   the very outwardly and very sensuously conceived happiness of the
   individual. The potency of sin is not recognized; evil is only an
   individual, not an historical power; hence there is no need of
   redemption, but only of personal works on the basis of prophetic
   instruction; Mohammed is only a teacher, not an atoner. God and man
   remain strictly external to, and separate from, each other; God--no
   less individually conceived of than man--comes into no real communion
   with man; and man, as moral, acts not as influenced by such a
   communion, but only as an isolated individual. The ideal basis of the
   moral is faith in God and in his Prophet; the moral life, conceived as
   mainly consisting in external works, is not a fruit of received
   salvation, but a means for the attainment of the same; pious works, and
   particularly prayer, fasting and almsgiving, and pilgrimaging to Mecca,
   work salvation directly of themselves. Man has nothing to receive from
   God but the Word, and nothing to do for God but good works; of inner
   sanctification there is no thought; the essential point is simply to
   let the per se good nature of man manifest itself in works; there is no
   inner struggle in order to attain to the true life, no
   penitence-struggle against inner sinfulness; and instead of true
   humility we find only proud work-righteousness. To the natural
   propensions of man there is consequently but little refused,--nothing
   but the enjoyment of wine, of swine-flesh, of blood, of strangled
   animals, and of games of chance, and this, too, for insufficient
   (assigned) reasons. The merely individual character of the morality
   manifests itself especially in the low conception that is formed of
   marriage, in which polygamy is expressly conceded, woman degraded to a
   very low position, and the dissolution of the marriage bond placed in
   the unlimited discretion of the man; there hence results a very
   superficial view of the family in general; the moral community-life is
   conceived of throughout in a very crude manner. Unquestionably this
   form of ethics is not an advancing on the part of humanity, but a
   guilty retrograding from that which had already been attained.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [99] Comp. Stäudlin: Gesch. der Sittenl. Jesu, i, 358; Cramer: Moral
   der Apokr., 1814; (also in Keil and Tzschirner's Analekten, 1814, ii,
   1, 2,); Räbiger: Ethica libe apocr., 1838; Keerl: Die Apokr. d. A. T.,
   1852, somewhat unfair; comp. Hengstenberg: Für Beibehaltung der Apokr.

   [100] Mishna translated by Rabe, 1760, 6 vols.--Talmud Babli, the
   Babylonian Talmud, by Pinner, 1842.--Schulchan Aruch by Löwe, 1836, 4
   vols.--Fassel: Die mosaisch-rabbin. Tugend-u. Pflichtenl., 2 ed., 1842.

   [101] Imm. Berger: Ueber die Moral des Koran in Stäudlin's Beiträge zur
   Phil., v, 250, (1799), superficial.--Weil: Mohammed, 1843.--Sprenger:
   Leben u. Lehre des Moh., 1862.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

  C.--CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
     __________________________________________________________________

    SECTION XXIX.

   In Christianity alone morality and ethics are enabled to reach their
   perfection,--the former being perfected in the person of Christ
   himself, the latter being in process of self-perfection in the
   progressive intellectual activity of the church.--The subjective and
   the objective grounds of morality are given, in Christianity, in full
   sufficiency. On the one hand, the moral subject has attained to a fill
   consciousness of sin, of its general sway, of its historical
   significancy, and of its guilt; on the other, he has, by redemption,
   become free from his bondage under sin. and risen again to moral
   freedom,--has again attained to the possibility of accomplishing his
   moral task. On the one hand, the objective ground of the moral--God--is
   now for the first, perfectly, personally and historically revealed to
   man, and God's will not merely manifested in unclouded clearness in his
   Word and through the historical appearance of the Redeemer himself, but
   also, by the holy, divine Spirit as imparted to the redeemed, written
   into their hearts; on the other, this God stands no longer in violent
   antithesis to the sin-estranged creature, but is in Christ reconciled
   with him, and, as a graciously loving Father, is present to him and in
   constant sanctifying and strengthening life-communion with him.

   The goal of morality has become an other,--has risen from the state of
   hope to a constantly-growing reality. God-sonship is not placed simply
   at the remote termination of the moral career, but is from the very
   beginning already present; the Christian strives not merely in moral
   aspiration toward it, but lives and acts in it and as inspired by it;
   he cannot possibly live or act morally if he is not already God's
   child; he has his goal already from the very beginning as a blessed
   reality, and his further goal is in fact simply fidelity in this
   God-sonship,--a sinking deeper into it, a strengthening and purifying
   of it by a constantly greater triumphing over the sinfiul nature which
   yet clings to the Christian, namely, the "flesh" which lusts against
   the spirit; and for collective humanity the moral goal is and has been
   realizing itself from the beginning in ever increasing fullness,
   namely, in the fact that all nation-separating barriers progressively
   fall away, and that the Word of life increasingly assumes form in the
   God-fearing of all nationalities,--constituting the kingdom of God in
   its gradual rising to full historical reality in a universal Christian
   church.

   The essence of morality has risen from the stage of the obedience of a
   faithful servant to that of the loving, confiding freedom of the
   children of God. Man has the command no longer as a merely outward,
   purely objective one, uncongenial to his subjective nature, but as an
   inward one dwelling within him, and as become his personal possession,
   and hence as no longer a yoke, a burden, but as an inner power at one
   with his personality itself. Man lives and acts no longer as a mere
   individual subject, but he lives and acts in full life-communion with
   the Redeemer, and through him with God,--by virtue, on the one hand, of
   the love of faith, and, on the other, of the gift of the Spirit: I
   live, and yet not I, but Christ lives in me. Tile moral idea is not a
   mere revealed Word, it is the Son of God as become man, the personal
   Redeeter himself, not merely in his truth-unvailing doctrine, not
   merely in his truth-revealing Spirit, but pre-eminently in his person
   itself, both as the historical, pure example of all holiness, as also
   as the One who is with us always even to the end of the world.--Love to
   that God who is manifested in redemption as himself the highest love,
   is the motive of the moral life--its essence and its power; it is a
   life of holy communion in every respect,--a life in and with God, a
   life with the children of God and in the communion of the
   redeemed.--The morality of hope has passed over into a morality of the
   joyous victory-consciousness,--is rather an actual manifestation of the
   already-attained, grace-awarded highest good, than a mere longing,
   aspiring after it. The ideal goal of morality is not in the least of a
   doubtful character, but is absolutely assured. While the fundamental
   feeling of the heathen virtue-sage is that of a proud
   self-consciousness of personal merit, the fundamental feeling of the
   Christian is the feeling of grace-accepting, thankful, loving humility;
   while the fundamental virtue of the Greeks is self-acquired wisdom,
   that of Christian morality is child-like faith in God's loving
   revelation both in Word and in historical act.

   There is no need here of detailed developments or proofs; we desire
   simply to present the ground-character of Christian ethics as in
   contrast to heathen ethics. This much is clear from what we have
   already said, that morality must assume here an entirely other form
   than in heathendom, and even in many respects a different one from that
   in the Old Testament. No heathen ethical system looks to the formation
   of aI kingdom of God embracing all mankind; the freedom of the will is
   either denied or restricted to a very few favored ones, and with these
   it is regarded as unaffected by the historical power of sin; heathenism
   knows nothing of personal love to God as a moral motive, and of the
   personal love of God to all men as its antecedent condition.
   Christianity takes it just as earnestly with the reality, the power and
   the guilt of sin, as with the real, historical, overcoming of the same
   through Christ. Man, as not from nature free, but as become free by
   historical redemption-act and by the personal appropriation of the
   same, is the true subject, capable of all true morality; and hence the
   realization of this morality depends no longer on a mere
   nature-conditionment, but solely on man's free self-determination for
   or against his redemption. That which is presumptuously presupposed by
   the Greek philosophers as already possessed by the elect few who are
   capable of true morality, namely, true will-freedom and a personal
   moral consciousness springing from the inner essence of the soul, all
   this has attained to its full truth only. in Christianity, namely, in
   that the false security of a merely natural freedom and power is
   overcome and remedied. Both freedom and power are procured for all who
   wish them, and that not by self-deception, but by a real moral
   redemption-act of the alone holy One.

   That the highest good is not a something to be attained to exclusively
   by moral action, but, on the contrary, in its essence a power
   graciously conferred on the willing heart, a power which has true
   morality simply as its fruit and subjective perfection, and which
   manifests this morality essentially as faithfulness, as a preserving
   and virtualizing of the received grace,--this is a thought utterly
   foreign to all heathendom, and which is placed, even in the Old
   Testament, only in the promised future; and upon this thought, as upon
   the consciousness of personal guilt and divine grace, rests the so
   distinctively Christian virtue of humility, as that of a pardoned
   sinner. There is scarcely anywhere to be found so violent an ethical
   antithesis as that between the high-esteemed virtue of magnanimity in
   Aristotle (which corresponds to the pride of the Pharisee in the
   parable of Christ,) and the Christian humility of that Publican who
   ventures no other prayer than this: "God be merciful to me a sinner."
   Such magnanimity appears to the Christian as mere self-blinding pride,
   while this humility appears to the Greek as servile-mindedness.

   Heathen ethics is always simply of a purely individual character, or,
   if it relates to a moral community-life, then only of a merely civil
   character, as consisting in obedience to laws purely human, and valid
   only for a particular people; or where, as in China, the state is
   regarded as of divine origin and essence, there individual morality
   becomes essentially a mere mechanical self-conforming to an eternally
   on-revolving unspiritual world-order; Christian morality is, on the
   contrary, never of a merely individual character, but absolutely and
   always an expression of moral communion--on the one hand, with the
   personal Saviour and God, and, on the other, with the Christian
   society; its essential nature is therefore love in the fullest sense.
   of the word, and it is never of a merely civil character but belongs to
   a purely moral community-life,--a life that rests in no respect on
   nature-limits or on unfreedom,--namely, that of the Church as the
   historical kingdom of God.-- In contradistinction to worldward-turned
   heathenism, Christians make the foundation and essence of all moral
   life to consist in the constant direction of the heart to God; and
   especially in prayer--(which, as exalted by the communion of devotion,
   becomes the principal phase of the entire religious life, and
   conditions and preserves a direct personal life-communion with
   God)--the entire moral life shapes itself into an expression of the
   religious consciousness as certain of its reconciliation with God. The
   Christian stands not alone in his moral life, nor is he merely a member
   of a moral society, but he stands in constant vital personal
   life-communion with God, and derives therefrom constantly new moral
   power. And precisely because Christian morality is not of a merely
   individual character, but is rooted in and grows out of the holiest of
   communions, is it truly free; the law stands no longer simply over
   against man, so that his relation to it becomes one of mere service,
   but, as in contrast to the self-sufficiency of the heathen mind (which
   finds in the natural man the pure fountain of the moral consciousness),
   it has become a perfectly inward personal law, one that constantly
   generates itself anew out of the sanctified heart of the spiritually
   regenerated.

   But prayer, wherein man enters into communion with God, is, as also the
   example of the ancient church shows, essentially intercession,--implies
   moral communion. The development of morality into a collective life of
   the moral society,--into a collective morality,--is an essentially new
   phenomenon. Heathendom knew indeed the indefinite and merely
   impersonal, abstract power of national custom, as well as the very
   definite but unfree-working power of the civil law and of political
   rulers, but it knew nothing of a free moral power of the truly moral
   community. The Christian community itself is the clearly duty-conscious
   upholder, promoter and conservator of the morality of the individuals;
   it has the duty of the moral overseeing, furthering and guiding of all
   its members, and hence also of moral discipline, and, as involved in
   this, also the power of inflicting moral discipline upon the
   unfaithful,--consisting essentially in the withdrawing of communion
   with them, in the excluding of them from the moral whole as being
   non-tolerant of any immoral element. The community-life is of so purely
   moral, so intensely unitary, a character, that the unfaithfulness of a
   single member thrills through the moral whole, and, because of the
   intimate love of the whole for all the individuals, is painfully felt
   and reproved and rejected by the society. The totality stands surety
   for the morality of the individual, and the individual for that of
   totality; the moral life of the spiritual organism has attained to its
   truth. The thought of church-discipline,--which raises morality-above
   the sphere of mere individuality, without, however, giving to the
   community-life the power of outward coercion, such as that of the
   state, but on the contrary preserves and gives effect to this life as a
   purely spiritual power,--is an essentially Christian thought, and is
   only there practical where the moral idea and its realization in the
   community-life are taken really in earnest.

   In the emancipation of the human spirit by redemption, in the taking up
   of the moral idea into the inner heart of the consciousness, there lie,
   now, the possibility of, and the incentive to, a scientific development
   of the moral consciousness. Heathendom developed an ethical science
   only on the basis of a presumed freedom and autonomy of the spirit of
   the natural man; the Old Testament religion developed none at all,
   because in it the divine law was as yet an absolutely objective and
   merely passively-given one, to which man could stand only in an obeying
   relation. But Christianity regains for the human spirit its true
   freedom,--makes the merely objective law into an also perfectly
   subjective one, into one that lives in the heart of the regenerated as
   his real property, one that enlightens the reason and becomes thereby
   truly rational; and hence there is here given the possibility of
   shaping this pure moral subject-matter as embraced in the divinely
   enlightened conscience, into free scientific self-development. But
   Christian ethics, naturally enough, developed itself as a science only
   after its presuppositions, namely, the dogmatical questions in regard
   to God, to Christ and to man had attained to some degree of ripeness in
   the dogmatic consciousness of the church, and hence it appears for a
   long while predominantly only in closest involution with dogmatics, and
   in popular ecclesiastical instruction in the form of rules and
   exhortations, and in part also in ecclesiastically-defined
   life-regulations enforced by ecclesiastical discipline. The notion that
   the ancient church could and should have passed over the great dogmatic
   questions and devoted itself primarily and predominantly, or in fact
   exclusively, to the development of a system of morals as the essence
   proper of Christianity, is very erroneous. If we once perceive and
   admit that the Christian world-theory in general, in respect to God, to
   the creature, and especially to the nature of man, is of a character
   diametrically opposed to the heathen view, and if we admit that
   morality cannot be of an unconscious and merely instinctive character,
   but must rest on a rational consciousness, then it is perfectly clear
   that the consciousness must first be scientifically informed in regard
   to the reality of existence, before that the consciousness of that
   which, in virtue of the character of this reality, becomes moral duty,
   can be further developed The religious consciousness of the moral was
   indeed given in high perfection in the first form of Christianity, but
   the scientific development of the moral could realize itself only very
   gradually and subsequently to the development of dogmatics.

   The three natural chief epochs of church history constitute also those
   of the history of Christian ethics.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

I. THE ANCIENT CHURCH UP TO THE SEVENTH CENTURY.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXX.

   Morality, as never separated from piety, and as uniformly based on
   loving faith in the Redeemer, and as upheld, fostered and watched over
   by the church-communion, appears in its inner phase as essentially love
   to God, and to Christ and to his disciples as brethren, and in its
   outer phase as a strict rejection of heathen customs, which latter
   feature, both in consequence of the persecutions suffered and because
   of the deep corruption of the extra-Christian world, assumes the form
   not unfrequently of a painfully-anxious self-seclusion from the same;
   and when, with the victory of Christianity over heathenism, from the
   time of Constantine on, worldliness pressed into the church itself,
   then, as a natural counterpoise against this worldliness,
   world-renunciation was made to apply, among the more pious-minded
   Christians, even to the sensuously-worldly phase of the Christian life,
   and was intensified, in the hermit-life, even to morbidness; and in
   consequence of the distinction which gradually sprang up in the church
   itself out of this antithesis in the Christian life, namely, between
   the moral commands, on the one hand, and the evangelical counsels on
   the other (which latter were thought to condition a superior degree of
   holiness), the moral consciousness was essentially beclouded.

   The moral views of the early Church are at once distinguishable from
   those of later Judaism by their profound grasping into the pious heart
   as the living fountain of a true and free morality, and from those of
   heathenism by the purity and rigor of the fundamental principles
   involved; and the unavoidable militant resistance against the
   demoralized heathen world naturally enough heightened this rigor to a
   degree which, but for this, seems no longer required. The essential
   difference of the Christian moral law from that of the Old Testament is
   fully recognized as early as from the time of Barnabas (Ep. c. 19). The
   rigorous element shows itself especially in respect to all sensuous
   pleasure and all worldly diversion, to marriage, to temporal
   possessions, and to political power, and to whatever is in any manner
   implicated with heathenism. In contrast to heathen laxity, the ancient
   Christians were all the more anxiously watchful against all dominion of
   sensuous desire, esteeming fasting very highly, though not as a
   commanded duty, and eschewing the demoralizing and religion-periling
   influence of the heathen stage and of other amusements; and the
   severity of their sufferings under the hatred of the world naturally
   enough made all worldly pleasure appear as in diametrical antagonism to
   Christian-mindedness. In a well-grounded persuasion of the dangers
   involved, the Christians declined to accept official positions in the
   heathen State. Chasteness even in thought was rigorously insisted upon;
   marriage was held more sacred than had ever been done before, and the
   sensuous element of the same was guarded within strict limits; and in
   view of the troubles of the times, and of the expectation of a near
   second-coming of Christ (which pretty generally prevailed in the first
   two centuries), very many inclined to a preference of celibacy,
   without, however, regarding it as a specially-meritorious course of
   conduct; second marriages, however, were generally viewed as an
   infidelity to the first consort. Riches were mostly looked on as of
   questionable desirableness; the taking of interest was regarded (in.
   harmony with the Old Testament view) as not permissible; beneficence
   and generosity to the brethren on a wide-reaching scale, was held as
   one of the most essential virtues; fidelity to truth, especially in
   confessing the faith, even in the face of threatening death, was a
   sacred duty, and its faithful fulfillment was the Christian's brightest
   testimony before his heathen persecutors. The oath was generally
   regarded as not allowable. Tender love toward each other, and a noble
   love of enemies, were the Christian's honor. The moral and
   warmly-fraternal community-life of the believers was a matter of
   astonishment even to the passionate enemies of Christianity. Slavery
   was at once essentially done away with by being transformed into a
   fraternally-affectionate service-relation; and when the State and laws
   became Christian, it was also greatly mitigated legally.

   Notwithstanding the rigor of the moral view of the Christians, it
   nevertheless differs essentially from that of the Stoics, because of
   its fundamental character of joyous faith and love; it is in no respect
   a harsh, stiff or dismal, but, on the contrary, a thoroughly vigorous,
   youthful and joyous self-sacrificing life, in the full enjoyment of
   inner peace and of a conscious blessedness. These features were
   measurably lost only when the Christian Church itself ceased to be the
   pure moral antithesis of the un-Christian world, and when, having
   become a State-Church, it admitted into itself even worldly, and in so
   far, also, heathen elements. And it was now an essentially correct
   consciousness which inspired the more pious of the believers with a
   disinclination to the life and pursuits of the great mass of
   Christians, and drove them into separating themselves from them. The
   error, however, was this, that instead of separating the unpious from
   the Church itself, they chose the separation, within the Church, of the
   pious from communion with the mass of the Church, and thereby rendered
   the exclusion of the immoral from the Church more impracticable than
   ever,--in other words, that, instead of morally purifying the natural
   elements that inhered both in themselves and in the society, they
   despisingly withdrew the spiritual from all contact with the natural.

   The first theoretical as well as practical separation of the ascetes
   (as imitated from the distinction, prevalent in the heathen world,
   between philosophers and the unphilosophical multitude, and as
   extending even to their costume), who thought by extreme
   world-renunciation to attain to an especially high moral perfection,
   and, as consequent thereon, also the distinguishing of a general
   Christian morality from a higher (and in some sense voluntary) ascetic
   morality, manifests itself in the third century in the currents of
   Alexandrian thought which had been so largely influenced by heathen
   philosophy,--as yet but feebly in Clemens Alexandrinus, [102] but
   already very damagingly in Origen. [103] The victory of Christianity
   over the heathen state in the fourth century, and the in-rushing both
   of the great and also of the populace into the Church, occasioned, on
   the one hand, a progressively growing relaxation of ecclesiastical
   discipline and a darkening of the moral consciousness in the great
   masses, and, on the other, in natural antithesis thereto, an
   increasingly radical exalting of the monastic life, in which the
   Christian conscience of the multitude found, as it were, an atoning
   complementing of their own imperfect secularized life. The ordinary
   requirements made upon the life of the ordinary Christian became less
   deep-reaching; but all the more rigorous were those made upon the
   ascetic life--wherein Christian morality was now thought to exist in
   its highest perfection. The distinguishing of mere ordinary moral duty,
   as the inferior, from moral perfection, became increasingly more
   familiar to the general Christian consciousness. The two true elements
   of Christian morality, namely, the turning away from the sinful world,
   and the aggressive living and working in and for the same, fell apart
   into two different channels, which respectively served, for the sum
   total of moral merit, as complements to each other; the superabundant
   merit of the sanctity of the ascetes fell to the good of the
   little-meriting world-Christians. In the sphere of morality a division
   of labor, so to speak, took place, and, in consequence thereof, there
   was subsequently developed in the sphere of moral merits a system of
   labor and traffic so artfully organized that it required all the boldly
   initiatory vigor of the Reformation to bring again to the light of day
   the plain fundamental principles of evangelical morality. To the
   present period of the history of Christian ethics belong, however, only
   the feebler beginnings of this corruption.

   The development of monasticism introduced a dualism into Christian
   morality, in that it proposed for the ascetes a morality essentially
   different from that of the rest of the Christian world, the latter
   being based upon the divine command, and the former upon pretended
   divine counsels; with this error were more or less affected Lactantius,
   Ambrose, Chrysostom, Jerome, and Augustine. In consequence of this,
   general Christian morality was degraded to a mere minimum; the truly
   good was made to be different from the divine command, and this good
   was considered no longer as the imperative will of God, but only, as it
   were, a divine wish, the fulfilling of which procures for man a special
   extraordinary merit, but the non-fulfilling of which awakens no divine
   displeasure. The more general prevalence of this view involved the
   overthrow of purely evangelical ethics, and the beginning of the
   perversion of the moral life of the Church in practical respects. By
   far the greatest portion even of the dogmatic and ecclesiastical errors
   of the Romish and Greek Churches has sprung from this very notion of a
   special sanctity in monasticism,
     __________________________________________________________________

   [102] Strom., p. 775, 825 (Potter).

   [103] Comm. in Ep. ad Rom., 507 (De la Rue).
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXI.

   Ethics itself appears not as yet in scientific form and apart from the
   presentation of the subject-matter of dogmatics; it appears more in the
   popular edificatory than in the scientific writings, and approaches
   more nearly a scientific form in the works written in self-defense
   against the heathen. The first connected and somewhat comprehensive
   presentation of ethics--by Ambrose--in the manner of Cicero, is
   scientifically of little value; while the brilliant, penetrative, and
   ingenious moral thoughts of Augustine, (which, along with Aristotle,
   formed the foundation of Mediaeval ethics), deviate sometimes in daring
   originality from the earlier ecclesiastical view, and also bring some
   confusion into purely evangelical ethics by an overvaluing of monkish
   asceticism. After the time of Augustine, ethics is for the most part
   limited to the mere collecting of the views of earlier writers, and to
   popular instruction. The mystical thoughts of the pseudo-Dionysius the
   Areopagite became influential only in the Middle Ages. [104]

   The strict moral life of the early Christians furnished indeed in its
   inner experiences weighty matter for ethics; ethics proper, however,
   confined itself at first to the framing of life-rules, which, resting
   on the fundamental thought of faith and love, were enforced and
   supported by Scripture texts and by apostolical tradition, by the
   example of Christ and of the saints of sacred history, and by spiritual
   experience, and, at a later period, also by the example and authority
   of the martyrs, and by the definitions [canones] of the synods, but
   they were not as yet digested into a scientific whole. From the moral
   philosophy of the heathen the Church Fathers kept themselves
   substantially clear, though they adopted from the Platonic and Stoic,
   and from the later popular philosophy of the Eclectics, many forms and
   thoughts. The earlier Fathers, also Irenaeus, involved themselves in
   perplexities by the fact that, basing themselves primarily on the Old
   Testament writings, they often presented the moral life of the
   Patriarchs too fully as a pattern for Christians, although they
   recognized, throughout, the merely preparatory purpose of the Old
   Testament law.

   In their genuine writings the apostolical Fathers confine themselves to
   simple evangelically-earnest exhortations. [105] --At a very early date
   there was manifested an antithesis of such on the one hand, as with
   full fidelity to the Christian faith yet used in the service of
   Christianity the best results of heathen culture, and, of such on the
   other, as regarded it as the primary duty of the Church to emphasize
   and insist on the total contrariety of Christianity to heathenism, and,
   above all things, also in the morally-practical life, to break off all
   yet-existing relations with the heathen world, and to present the holy
   society as, in itself, a totally new world. Both tendencies--the former
   prevailing more among Greek, the latter more among Latin
   Christians--were equally legitimate, but both in equal danger of
   one-sidedness; the former with the aid of Greek philosophy laid rather
   the foundation for a scientific construction of the moral
   consciousness, the latter developed rather a rigorous, and even harsh,
   legality of the moral life; Origen and Tertullian respectively, are
   prominent representatives of this antithesis.

   The philosophically educated Justin the Martyr gives special emphasis,
   in defense of Christianity, to its high moral (and by him very
   earnestly conceived) views and practical workings, and to its
   difference from the merely preparatory Old Testament law; he insists
   very strongly on the freedom of the will as a condition of the moral;
   but he manifests already a preference for celibacy as a higher
   perfection, doubtless not without being somewhat influenced thereto by
   the Platonic notion of the nature of matter.--Clemens Alexandrinus
   enters more direct upon the nature of the moral. In his Exhortation to
   the Heathen (Logos protreptikos, cohortatio), he exposes the
   defectiveness of heathen ethics, and in single characterizing strokes
   contrasts with it Christian ethics, as the higher; in his Paedagogos,
   designed for beginners in Christianity, he gives a more specific but at
   the same time more popular presentation of the subject; but in his
   Stromata: he raises the Christian faith-consciousness, and
   morality-consciousness to a much higher scientific form, evidencing
   truly philosophic ability. The divine Logos,--who manifests himself in
   fact in all true philosophy of the heathen, but in a still higher
   degree in the Old Testament, and most fully and purely in the New
   Testament,--is also the pure fountain of the moral consciousness; with
   the Hebrews the divine law was essentially objective; but in
   Christianity it is, by virtue of the activity of the divine Logos,
   written into the hearts of all believers. The highest law is love to
   God, and, as based thereon, love to our neighbor; the highest goal is
   likeness to, and life-communion with, God; the condition of the moral
   is will-freedom, which, although hampered, yet not destroyed, by the
   fall, is now restored in Christianity; the Logos, that is, Christ, is
   the pattern of salvation and the leader thereto. In his very detailed
   inquiries in the sphere of the moral life, Clemens shows himself both
   earnest and judicious; he esteems marriage very highly, and manifests
   no preference for celibacy. A visible fondness for the rational
   contemplation of the divine, as in contrast to the lower sphere of mere
   faith (corresponding to the prevalent Greek distinguishing between
   philosophers and ordinary men), interferes somewhat, however, with his
   interest in active outward life.--On the use of earthly goods, he
   treats in detail in his work: Quis dives salvetur.

   Origen has rich thoughts on the moral, scattered through his many
   writings, but especially in his Homilies and Commentaries and in his
   work against Celsus. His Scripture-exegesis is always pregnant with
   thought, though often venturesomely interpreting and allegorizing,
   especially in the Old Testament. Freedom of will he insists on fully as
   strongly as does Clemens, with whom in other respects he essentially
   harmonizes. His moral views are rigid, but not harsh; the moral
   disposition alone constitutes, in his view, the worth of the deed; but
   his over-estimation of the monkish life and of martyrdom, and his
   doctrine that man can do more of the good and meritorious than is
   commanded of him, becloud somewhat the otherwise evangelical character
   of his ethics. His well-known dogmatical tendency to un-churchly
   opinion shows itself less prominently in the sphere of ethics, and even
   his notion of the pre-existence of souls does not essentially interfere
   with his moral ideas.

   In striking contrast to the freer idealistic tendency of the
   Alexandrians, and in harshest Occidental realism, stands the African
   theologian Tertullian. Greatly delighting in spiritual eccentricities,
   and inclined to daring exaggerations of per se true thoughts, this
   writer presents Christian ethics in his numerous moral writings on
   special topics (especially in his De idololatria, De pudicitia, Ad
   uxorem, De monogamia, De exhortatione castitatis, De spectaculis, De
   oratione, etc.), in a very rigorously legal spirit, especially
   insisting upon its self-denying, world-renouncing, ascetic
   phase,--already far leaning toward the monkish view, and exerting a
   wide-spread influence on the Occident. And this juristic-minded man,
   with his strong inclination to rigorous formulae, is true to himself
   also in the sphere of morality. His passing over to Montanist views
   does not essentially modify his previous moral views, as they were in
   fact from the first not inconsistent therewith.--While, on the one
   hand, he emphasizes more strongly than the Greek Fathers the natural
   corruption of all men as resulting from the fall, without, however,
   doing away with moral freedom, on the other hand, he raises (though not
   without having the precedent of the church in his favor) the
   requirement of holiness in Christians so high that he regards as
   admissible, at farthest, only a single repentance after baptism, and,
   for reiterated severe sins, such as defection from the faith, adultery,
   whoredom, murder, knows of no forgiveness whatever; [106] the
   distinction--here appearing more strongly than ever before--between
   venial and mortal sins, received subsequently a somewhat different
   significancy. The greatest sin is defection from the true
   faith--idolatry; [107] hence the Christian must avoid in word and deed
   every thing which is connected with heathenism,--e. g., he may not
   crown himself, may not visit theatrical spectacles, etc. Tertullian
   insists also, and with almost painful anxiety, on attention to all
   outward actions and manners,--e. g., he gives long and detailed
   disquisitions on the clothing and decoration of women, whom he would
   like to see attired in a natural and modest simplicity,--not without
   many theoretical whims (De habitu, muliebri, De cultu foeminarum, De
   velandis virginibus). Marriage he regards indeed as a divine
   institution, although, in view of the expectation of a speedy second
   coming of Christ, he prefers celibacy as the more perfect and pure
   state; and second marriages he unconditionally forbids as a heavy
   sin,--in the face of the utterances of Paul. Fasting he requires not
   merely as a penance, but as a protective means of virtue, conducive to
   a higher perfection, namely, in that it turns the soul away from the
   earthly and toward the heavenly; and he attempts to reduce it to
   definite rigorous rules (De jejunio). To accept political offices and
   to wear the insigna thereof, conflicts per se with Christian humility,
   seeing that because of their connection with heathen religion they are
   inconsistent with Christian sincerity, as also, because of the function
   of officers to execute and to torture, inconsistent with Christian
   gentleness; [108] military service, the Christian must unconditionally
   refuse. [109] The notion of a Christian state is utterly foreign to
   Tertullian; he knows only of the heathen state. The enduring of
   martyrdom may, as the highest victory of Christian virtue, by no means
   be evaded by flight or otherwise; all shrinking is here unworthy
   cowardice (De fuga in persecutione; Scorpiacum). Unshaken patience in
   all manner of suffering in general, he describes and discusses with
   great ability (De patientia).

   Cyprian, a great admirer of Tertullian, but more churchly than he, and
   in his moral judgments more mild, developed, one-sidedly, still
   further, the ascetic phase of Christian morality; abstinence from
   enjoyment, steadfastness in suffering, martyrdom, and beneficence to
   the poor, appear, to him, as the highest virtues; strict churchliness,
   obedient submission to the visible church and its episcopal guides, as
   the foundation of all Christian morality; heretical opinions and
   schismatic separation, as the ground of all moral corruption. While in
   Tertullian morality appears more as an individual manifestation of the
   religious personality, in Cyprian it is rather an expression of the
   community-life of the church. As to marriage and celibacy, he judges as
   Tertullian. (De unitate ecclesiae; Exhort. ad martyrium; De bono
   patientiae; De opere et eleemosynis; De zelo et livore; De oratione
   dominica; and many letters).

   The severe dogmatic conflicts of the fourth century which so deeply
   rent the Oriental church, turned the current of thought somewhat away
   from ethics, so that we here find scarcely any thing but merely popular
   and not scientific presentations of the ethical, and that too for the
   most part simply in homilies and practical elucidations of
   Scripture.--Basil the Great--as yet largely devoted to ethical
   questions--gives (besides his homilies and several other writings of
   kindred nature) in his Ethica a short, popular, little-digested, but
   plain and Gospel-inspired synopsis of New Testament ethics,--comprised
   in eighty rules expressed in strictly Biblical forms. In other respects
   he manifests indeed an over-estimation of monasticism and of outward
   works in general, as well as an under-estimation of the natural
   corruption of man. His brother, Gregory of Nyssa, likewise emphasized
   moral freedom quite strongly, even in man while as yet unregenerate,
   and applied many of the ideas of Greek philosophy to Christian ethics,
   and moreover found also the moral ideal in the monkish life.--This life
   was still more exalted by Gregory of Nazianzus, who also presents
   already quite definitely the doctrine of the evangelical counsels as
   distinguished from the universally-binding moral laws, [110] although
   in other respects he gives expression to many excellent thoughts on
   Christian ethics.--The liberally-cultured, John Chrysostom,--who was no
   less profound in feeling than rich in thoughts and in acquaintance with
   man, and who was inspired with high moral earnestness and moral
   love,--presents in his masterly Homilies an essentially pure,
   evangelical and deep-reaching moral view, in a striking, warm and clear
   style,--to such an extent as no other Church Father has done; and even
   where, in the delineation of the natural conscience and of its freedom,
   he presents, by the help of philosophical examples, the favorable
   phases rather too prominently, and where he treats over-fondly of
   monasticism and the monkish life, and ascribes, in repentance, too high
   a value to outward works, especially to fasting and alms-giving, still
   the evangelical ground-thought is by no means pushed into the
   back-ground. Love to God is, with him, the ground, the beginning, the
   essence of all morality. His somewhat idealistic turn of mind betrays
   him sometimes into unpractical views, e. g., into the wish (born of his
   love to monasticism) for the introduction of a community of goods.
   [111] --Imitating Chrysostom also in his weaker points, the likewise
   philosophically educated abbot, Isidore of Pelusium, treated, in
   numerous epistles, largely of special topics in ethics, and sometimes
   bordered on Pelagian views.

   In the more practically-inclined and less dogmatically-rent Occident,
   we find, already in the fourth century, more comprehensive treatises on
   the moral subject-matter of Christianity, but--as differing from the
   more idealistic and philosophic Greek doctors--in a rather realistic,
   legal, juridical manner; and it is characteristic that precisely the
   most excellent of the ethical writers among the Latin Fathers were
   originally jurists and rhetoricians.--Lactantius, in his Institutiones
   divinae (III-VI), treats of the ethical quite largely, critically
   assailing heathen ethics, and defending spiritedly the ethics of
   Christianity. The highest good, as the ground-question of ethics, lie
   finds in the blissful communion of the immortal spirit with God, a
   communion which is to be attained to only in the Christian religion,
   and of which, in heathendom, not even the conception is to be found.
   Christianity alone, but not heathen philosophy, affords a knowledge of
   the moral goal, and of the moral way, and furnishes also in Christ the
   moral example, and moral strength, and lastly, in pure unselfish love,
   the true moral motive. The unchurchly and dualistically-inclining
   notion entertained by Lactantius, of a certain primitively-ordained
   necessity of evil (ii, 8, 9, 12; vi, 15; De ira Dei, 55) has not much
   interfered with his other moral thoughts.--Ethics attains, in a feeble
   and ill-adapted outward imitation of Cicero, to a scientific form,
   though without really scientific development, through the labors of
   Ambrose, whose work De officiis ministrorum, though for a long time
   highly prized, is yet rhetorical in style, and feeble in scientific
   contents; and yet, notwithstanding that it introduces, undigested, many
   foreign thoughts and forms into the field of Christian thought in order
   to conceal a manifest lack of theological culture, it still commends
   itself by the warmth of a sincere heart, by its enthusiasm for active
   piety and by ingenious trains of thought. Though treating in this work
   primarily of the duties of clergymen, Ambrose yet considers also pretty
   extensively those of Christians in general; as a whole, however, it has
   little order and consecutiveness, and, notwithstanding its frequent
   prolixity and repetitions, leaves many points but slightly touched. He
   cites many Biblical examples, especially from the Old Testament; in his
   exegetical method he is quite faulty; that which is not expressly
   taught in Scripture either by word or example, he regards as unallowed,
   e. g., jesting. The four virtutes principales (the expression virtutes
   cardinales occurs only in the manifestly unauthentic work, De
   sacramentis), he adopts from Plato; he gives them, however, a much
   higher significancy; and, by finding for them a greater unity in piety
   and love, as also by penetrating deeper into the subjectivity of the
   love-inspired and morally-acting heart, he demonstrates, despite all
   his defectiveness in scientific construction, the great superiority of
   Christian ethics over heathen. He places the highest good in the bliss
   resulting from a knowledge of God, and in moral perfection, the two
   being inseparably connected with each other. A preference for celibacy
   he shares with his contemporaries, but in enthusiastic laudations
   thereof he even outdoes most of them. The duty of beneficence he pushes
   so far that, like Chrysostom, he passes over into advocacy of a
   voluntary community of goods (i, 28); and he regards self-defense, even
   in case of murderous assault, as unallowable. The
   scientifically-insignificant exegetical writings of Ambrose deal also
   very largely with ethical questions.--St. Jerome, in such of his
   writings as treat of the moral, is, for the most part, intent on
   exalting the, by him, fanatically espoused monastic life, but rather
   rhetorically than scientifically, and with frequent inconsistencies;
   treating marriage disdainfully, and in fact hostilely, he finds any
   good in it at all only because it produces children who may devote
   themselves to the unmarried life (Ep. 22, 20, ad Elustoch., ed Veron.,
   t. i); his passionately violent assailing of Jovinian (in Rome) who
   contested the meritoriousness of the monastic life and of ascetic
   works, found in the spirit of the age great applause.

   Much higher in spirit and penetration than the views of the other Latin
   Fathers, stand St. Augustine's ethical disquisitions,--De doctrina
   christiana, De civitate dei, De moribus ecclesicae catholicae, De
   libero arbitrio, and other works--without, however, presenting a
   connected ethical system. In Augustine the Occidental church not only
   manifests her radical antithesis to the fundamental and dangerous
   errors of the Pelagian school, but she further develops at the same
   time the ethically-significant and healthful antithesis to the more
   dogmatically and theosophico-speculatively inclined Greek church,
   namely, in that this Father emphasized much more strongly than did the
   Greek church the antagonism of the natural man to God as well as man's
   moral impotency, and hence his need of redemption, and also in that he
   conceived the Christianly-moral life as the expression of a complete
   spiritual transformation, whereas the Greek Fathers tended to regard it
   rather as a bettering of the, in his moral essence, but
   slightly-disordered natural man. Occidental ethics makes more reference
   to the Saviour; Oriental, more to the Creator; the former has therefore
   conceived more deeply, than the latter, the moral consciousness of
   Christianity, and has developed it more fully. And from this time on,
   the history of Christian ethics finds but little that is worthy of
   attention outside of the current of Occidental thought. As it was the
   special task of the Greek church to ward off from the Christian
   doctrine of God and of Christ, all heathen and Judaistic notions, and
   definitively to refute them, so was it the task of the Latin church to
   confute and overcome these same elements in the field of ethics; and
   this task was in the main accomplished by St. Augustine. The freedom of
   the will as it appears in the Greek church, and especially also in
   Chrysostom, is by no means identical with the freedom of the
   regenerated Christian as insisted upon by the evangelical church, and
   the confidence which many of the Greek Fathers place in the moral
   inclination of the piously-stirred heart, is not yet free from every
   trace of that over-estimation of the purity of human nature so
   characteristic of heathenism; also moral action is as yet obscured by
   the thought of the meritoriousness of the same. These remaining traces
   of heathen and Jewish views were, in their ground-thought at least,
   eradicated by Augustine; the thought of unmerited grace whereby man
   attained to the capability of a moral life, and to the highest good,
   was placed by him in the foreground, and thus the foundation was laid
   for a true evangelical ethical system. His doctrine (far exceeding
   Scripture warrant) of the total unfreedom, for good, of the natural
   will and of an unconditional election of grace, has a less misleading
   influence on his moral views than might have been expected,--it simply
   gives to them the character of deep earnestness, but does not dampen
   the power of moral admonition.--Man in his enslavement under sin to
   moral unfreedom is raised to real moral freedom only on the basis of a
   divine election of grace, by means of a spiritual regeneration through
   faith in Christ. Natural man is not able to will and to accomplish the
   truly good; the virtues of heathen and of unbelievers, though indeed
   often very admirable, have yet no real merit, no truly moral worth.
   Between virtue and vice there lies no medium ground; whatever is not
   virtue, and hence whatever springs not from faith, from the right
   intentio, is necessarily sinful; natural man is free only to evil; even
   the desire for redemption is lacking to him, and is purely a work of
   gracious influence. Still there are among sin-dominated humanity great
   differences of personal guilt, and even the heathen have yet a free
   choice between the more, and the less, evil; to true righteousness,
   however, they cannot attain.--The destination of man, and hence his
   moral goal and the highest good, is to return to God from whom he has
   fallen away, to become reunited with Him by God-likeness. This is
   possible only through love to God, which is consequently the ground and
   essence of all good. The world and whatever belongs to it, is not the
   goal of moral effort,--is not the highest good itself, but only a means
   to this end. Love to the world in itself is therefore not true moral
   love, but is only lust; spirit never has true love save to spirit. But
   man is not to himself the highest end, because he is not per se capable
   of blessedness; the highest end, and hence the highest object of love,
   is God, upon whom all blessedness rests. All true love rests on love to
   God, and to love men otherwise than in God, is sinful; also self-love
   is only then moral when it flows from love to God. Hence love to God is
   the first and highest command, and the one from which all others
   spring; this love works obedience to God's command, wherein alone rests
   all the moral worth of an action; love is the sole true motive to the
   good,--fear is only a feeble incipiency of wisdom. Hence virtue is in
   its essence simply love to God, is nothing other than ordo amoris,
   [112] and therefore obedience to the divine will, which will is the
   eternal law of all morality.

   Love to God as the ground-virtue unfolds itself into the four cardinal
   virtues: TEMPERANTIA, amor integrum se pracbens ei, quod amatur;
   FORTITUDO, amor facile tolerans omnia propter quod amartur; JUSTITIA,
   amor soli amato serviens et propterea recte dominans; PRUDENTIA, amor
   ea, quibus adjuvatur, ab eis, quibus impeditur, sagaciter seligens.
   [113] It is with great ingenuity that the Greek classification of
   virtue is thus embraced and presented in higher unity, as an unfolding
   of love under four forms, but the violence of the process is too
   manifest not to make felt at once the unadaptedness of the Greek
   classification for the Christian idea; it is new wine in old vessels.
   To these virtues, borrowed from Greek philosophy, Augustine adds, as
   superordinate thereto, the three virtues subsequently known as the
   theological virtues: faith, love and hope, without succeeding in
   placing them into a clear relation to the other four; [114] and this
   unclear and clumsy twofold classification prevails from now henceforth
   and until the close of the Middle Ages. Faith springs from the merely
   germinal love to God; but only from faith springs the true
   all-dominating love to God, and from faith and love springs hope,
   namely, a longing for the highest good, for the blissful enjoyment of
   God in union with Him, in the vision of Him,--in perfected love;
   objectively therefore the highest good is God himself as the perfect
   truth, the infinite eternal life itself.

   Evil or sin is in essence and origin a lack of true love, that is, a
   love not to God but to the world and its lusts, and primarily a love to
   self that does not rest on love to God, that is self-seeking. From
   self-seeking springs evil desire (concupiscentia) which becomes a power
   over the spirit. Evil become real in no sense whatever from God, but
   through the free choice, through the guilt, of free creatures,--is a
   guilty ruining of the originally good. The distinction (referring
   primarily to the administration and practice of penance) between venial
   and mortal sins (peccata venalia et mortifera s. mortalia), Augustine
   defines in the thenceforth prevailing sense, thus,--that the latter
   include all sins consciously and voluntarily committed against the
   Decalogue, and particularly idolatry, adultery, and murder, which,
   unless atoned for by ecclesiastical penance, involve damnation, whereas
   the former may be atoned for, or gotten rid of, by the repentant person
   himself, without special church-penance, through prayer, alms-giving
   and fasting. [115]

   As to the requirements of morality in detail, Augustine is no less
   earnest than judicious, forming quite a contrast to the manifold
   laxities of the age, and to many errors and extreme views of earlier
   Church Fathers, and, on the whole, he conceived of Christian morality
   much more profoundly than had yet been done by church writers; but his
   more especial merit consists in this, that he brought clearly and
   definitely into prominence the foundation of all morality, namely,
   faith and the essence of faith, to wit, love to God, and that he
   referred the validity of outward works more definitely than had been
   done before to the inner disposition of the actor. A truly evangelical
   spirit breathes through the greater part of his moral views; and even
   where, in harmony with the spirit of the times, he laudingly emphasizes
   outward good works, and particularly fasting, alms-giving and monastic
   asceticism, he still always lays greater stress on the state of the
   heart than on the work itself. His greatest departure from a purely
   evangelical consciousness is the recognition of the, then, already
   long-prevalent distinction between the divine commands and the divine
   counsels; the latter refer essentially to the giving up of allowed
   enjoyments, and especially to the abstaining from marriage. The man who
   leaves the counsels unobserved, sins not; he who fulfills them,
   acquires for himself higher virtue; wedlock-virtue is merely human
   virtue, but virginal chastity is angelic virtue. Marriage is indeed per
   se holy and pure, and prevailed also in the state of sinlessness, [116]
   but for the state of sinfulness, from which in fact the redeemed are
   not as yet totally free, celibacy is higher than marriage; and if all
   men would but live unmarried, there would thereby be straightway
   brought about the end of the world and the perfection of the kingdom of
   God. [117] But Augustine wisely avoids the self-contradictory extremes
   of Jerome, and tolerates even second marriages.--In contrast to heathen
   ethics, which looks, for all salvation, to the State and to its
   unlimited sway, Christians, even in the days of Augustine, placed (not
   without very good reasons) very little confidence in the worldly State.
   The Christian state--to the realization of which the. Germanic nations
   were more especially called--had not yet become real; and the
   nominally-Christian Roman State lingered as yet essentially in heathen
   forms. In his ingenious work De civitate dei, Augustine contrasts with
   the earthly State the purely spiritual divine State, deriving the
   former from the self-seeking of God-forsaking man, as prevailing since
   the brother-murder of Cain,--since which time the earthly and heavenly
   State have been in a condition of divorce (xv, 5). "The two kinds of
   love produced two kinds of state: the earthly state springs from
   self-love which ripens into contempt of God; the heavenly, from love to
   God which ripens into contempt of self" (xiv, 28). The divine State
   develops itself independently of the sinful earthly one, until it
   attains to its true manifestation in Christ; this state is not an
   outwardly force-exercising one, but a spiritual kingdom, and is indeed
   destined to sanctify and transfigure the earthly State,--to change it
   from a merely world-state into an organ of the divine state, but not to
   merge itself into it.

   The great decline of the scientific life in the Occident from and after
   the close of the fifth century, manifested its effects also in the
   field of ethics. Little more was done than to make collections of the
   opinions (sententiae) of the Fathers, and to apply them to purposes of
   Church-discipline and of popular instruction. But there was no further
   creative production. In reducing to greater system the discipline of
   penance, the interest was turned rather to the discriminating, defining
   and classifying of sins than to the scientific examination of the moral
   in general. The knowledge of Greek ethics disappeared almost entirely,
   and the work of Boëthius, De consolatione philosophiae (about A.D.
   542), [118] --which is but feebly touched with Christian influence, and
   which for the most part expresses, eclectively, mere Graeco-Roman
   philosophy,--passed in the earlier Middle Ages for an excellent work of
   Christian philosophy.--Gregory the Great, basing himself on Augustine,
   wrote moral expositions (Moralia) of the Book of Job, of Solomon's
   Song, etc., and other rather edificatory than scientific works of the
   same class; most influential was his Regula pastoralis, which treated
   of the clerical calling more especially under its moral phase. Isidore
   of Hispalis (Seville) (ob. 636) treats, especially in his Sententiae,
   on many moral points, mostly, however, by way of judicious digesting
   from preceding Fathers, especially from Augustine and Gregory the
   Great,--furnishing for the early Middle Ages a principal help in
   ethical study.--In the Greek Church Maximus the Confessor (ob. 622)
   gives in his "Chapters on Love" [119] a tolerably complete presentation
   of ethics; John Damascenus (ob. 754) furnishes, in his chief work, the
   ground thoughts for an ethical treatise, and in his "Holy Parallels" a
   rich collection of patristic sentences.

   Standing entirely apart, and of influence only in the Middle Ages, is
   the pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite (fifth century) who introduced
   Neo-Platonic mysticism into Christianity, and whose
   Pantheistically-inclined world-theory invades here and there also the
   moral sphere. [120] God is all in all,--is the being in all being, the
   life in all that lives, is the good absolutely. Hence evil cannot exist
   by itself, but must always be a negating something on the good,--is not
   an existing something, but essentially only a lack and more an
   appearance than a reality, and it turns again into the good. The goal
   of all life, and hence also of the moral, is the returning into God,
   the changing into God, of whatever is as yet distinct from God; the
   highest wisdom is therefore the turning-away of the spirit from
   whatever is not God,--the unclouded beholding of the one, the nameless,
   the pure divine light, in which God directly imparts himself to man. An
   outwardly active morality is, according to this view, the opposite of
   true wisdom.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [104] The ethical views of the Ebionites and Gnostics offer many
   interesting phases, but they have too little influence in the shaping
   of the ethics of the church, and are, without a fuller examination, too
   obscure to justify us in entering upon the subject here at all: comp.
   Neander: Gesch. d. christl. Sittenl., pp. 111, 137.

   [105] Heyns: De patrum ap. doctrina morali, 1833; Van Gilse, the same
   subject, 1833.

   [106] De poenit., c. 2, 6; De pudicitia, c. 2, 19; comp. Adv. Marc., 4,
   9.

   [107] De idolol., c. 1 sqq.

   [108] De idol., c. 17, 18, 21.

   [109] De corona militis, c. 11; De idol., c. 19.

   [110] Orat. III, invect. in Jul., p. 94 sqq. (ed. Col.); Orat. iv, c.
   97 sqq. (ed. Bened.)

   [111] Homil. in Act., opp. (ed. Montf.) ix, 93.

   [112] De civ. dei, xv, 22.

   [113] De moribus eccl., c. 15 (25) sqq., 25 (46); De lib. arb., 1, 13;
   2, 10.

   [114] Enchiridion, s. de fide, spe et charitate; de doctr. christ., 1,
   37; 3, 10, et al.

   [115] Sermo, 351; Enchir., 70, 71; comp. De fide et op., c. 19 (34); De
   civ. dei, 21, 27.

   [116] De Genesi ad litt., 9, 3 sqq., 7.

   [117] De Sancta virginitate; De bono conjugali; De nuptiis et concupis.

   [118] Fr. Nitzsch: System des Boëth., 1860, p. 42 sqq.

   [119] Kephalaia peri agapes.

   [120] Especially in De divinis nominibus; De coelesti hierarchia; De
   myst. theol.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

II. THE MIDDLE AGES.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXII.

   The ecclesiastical consciousness, as having arrived now at greater
   repose, but as also in a state of spiritual paralysis, limits itself
   primarily to the preserving and digesting of the views already-attained
   to, and to the constructing of systems of life-rules on the basis of
   the decisions of the Fathers and of church councils,--at best
   elucidated anew by examples from the Scriptures or from the legends of
   the saints. The practical decisions on the subject of church penance
   gave rise gradually, in connection with these collections of rules, to
   a very minutely-specifying system of casuistry, which, however, related
   primarily chiefly to transgressions. The moral views themselves were
   already largely estranged from evangelical purity, and an ascetic
   monk-morality, not binding upon all, passed as the ideal of Christian
   virtue, while the general morality, binding upon all, was to a large
   degree neglected.

   The libri poenitentiales, for the use of confessors, are based for the
   most part on the decisions of synods and on ancient practice, but are
   also in some degree complemented by their respective authors; they give
   for the most part little more than imperfectly classified and
   illogically connected registers of single sins and of the
   church-penances and penalties imposed therefor, the latter of course
   without established and certain norms (Theodore of Canterbury, Bede,
   Halitgarius and others). These books form the beginning of a
   casuistical treatment of ethics, which was subsequently extended to
   other questions than sins, especially to cases of conscience.--Attempts
   at a more independent and more connected, but yet, on the whole, purely
   practical treatment of ethics--mostly simply on single points,--were
   made by Alcuin (De virtutibus et vitiis; De ratione animae), largely
   borrowing from Augustine; also by Rhabanus Maurus, by Jonas, Bishop of
   Orleans (about 828), by the earnestly sin-rebuking Ratherius of Verona
   (ob. 974), by Damani (ob. 1072), the excessive eulogist of
   self-castigation, and by the learned Fulbert of Chartres (ob. 1029).

   In proportion as the zeal of love abated, and worldly-mindedness
   increased in the church at large, in the same proportion arose, as in
   antithesis to this secularism of the church, a zeal for a special
   holiness transcending the general morality required of all. Directions
   for the monkish life form a favorite topic for ecclesiastical
   moralists; the merits of the ascetic life are more warmly lauded than
   the practical Christian life in the civil or domestic spheres, and
   wedlock is progressively more deeply disparaged as in contrast to
   entire renunciation; consorts are loaded with praise, who divorce
   themselves in order to practice such renunciation; and according to
   Damiani's assertion, even St. Peter had to undergo the martyr-death in
   order to wash away the stains of his wedlock-life (De perfectione
   monach, c. 6).
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXIII.

   The philosophy of the Middle Ages, and especially Scholasticism, was
   occupied for a long while almost exclusively with speculations on
   dogmatical and metaphysical questions, leaving ethics almost untouched;
   wherever, however, it brought ethics within the sphere of its
   intellectual activity, there it treated the same merely in connection
   with dogmatics, and for the most part in the light of the opinions of
   Augustine, and, later, of those of Plato and Aristotle,--often
   bunglingly combining the latter with the former.--The brilliant but
   idealistico-Pantheistically inclined mystical philosophy of John Scotus
   Erigena, which threw its lights, as well as its shades, into the field
   of morality, seems--as not understood--to have had little influence on
   subsequent ethics, save in the mystical school.

   The spiritualistico-idealistic tendency of the Schoolmen could
   primarily treat of the moral only collaterally, at least until the
   dogmatical and metaphysical fields had attained to some degree of
   philosophical maturity and self-consciousness. The potent influence of
   Augustine made itself felt also in the ethical field, and his
   ground-thoughts re-appear in almost all the Schoolmen. The freedom of
   the will is, however, distinctly recognized, although, in man after the
   fall, as in a trammeled condition; but also Greek philosophy was
   powerfully influential on ethics, not merely as to the form, but also
   as to the subject-matter. The Platonic classification of the virtues
   was already early combined with the three theological virtues,
   notwithstanding the inconsistency and impracticability of such a
   uniting of two entirely different stand-points. In how far John Scotus'
   attempted translation of Aristotle's Ethics into Latin was of
   influence, is doubtful; the application of Aristotle to Christian
   ethics appears in a more direct form, first, in the thirteenth century.

   The deep-thinking John Scotus Erigena (at the court of Charles the
   Bald, then at Oxford, ob. 886), who was not understood by his own age,
   and who had but little connection with it even in his errors, touches
   in his chief work, De divisione naturae, also upon the more general
   ethical topics, and molds them to his idealistico-Pantheistical
   system,--a system based on the Neo-Platonic views of Dionysius the
   Areopagite, and which--very different from recent naturalistic
   Pantheism--denies not the absolute personal God, but on the contrary
   the independent reality of the world. The world is only another
   existence-form of the eternal God himself; God alone is real; the
   creature, in so far as it is conceived as distinct from God, is
   nothing; it exists only in so far as it is wholly identical with God.
   God is whatever truly exists, because He himself does all and is in
   all; Good in not merely the most excellent part of the creature, but He
   is its beginning, its middle and its end--the essence and true being in
   all things. The coming into being of the world is a self-outpouring of
   God, a theophany. God is manifest not only in Christ, but also in the
   entire universe,--in the highest degree in the rational creature, and
   here indeed most purely in the saints. The believing and cognizing of
   the saints take place solely through God; God cognizes himself in man
   as cognizing Him. Man is therefore God's image, because God himself
   comes to manifestation in him. As now every thing ideal, and hence the
   ideal world, precedes, in the mind of God, its outward realization, so
   is also the spirit of man earlier than his body,--which latter is but
   the shadow of the spirit, and is in fact by it created, and that too as
   a perfect and immortal one (ii, 24).--Man, however, is now no longer in
   the condition in which he originally was; the body is frail and subject
   to death; this condition can have been brought about only by sin. But
   how is sin possible if God is in fact all in all? Answer: every thing
   is real only in so far as it is good; but in so far as it is not good,
   it exists not. Hence evil is a mere non-being, a merely negative
   something, but in no sense a real entity. God can cognize only that
   which is, not that which is not,-- hence He cognizes and knows not
   evil; for if He knew it, then it would be real, and hence would not be
   evil (ii, 28). This normal Dei ignorantia banishes evil from the sphere
   of being into that of mere appearance. All evil is merely the shadow of
   the good, and is accordingly only upon the good,--is essentially only a
   lack,--a non-being, not a positive entity. Sin consists in this, that
   man, as on the one hand identical with, and, on the other, distinct
   from God, fixes his attention solely upon this distinctness from
   God,--directs himself toward himself and toward nature, and not toward
   God (i, 68; ii, 12, 25). Only by this confessedly per se inexplicable
   (v. 36) fall into sin, is it that the body of man became material and
   mortal and a clog to the spiritual life (ii, 25, 26; comp. iv, 12, 14,
   15, 20); man thereby ceased to be truly a spirit,--became subject to
   natural desires; previously the lord of nature, he now became a slave
   to it.--The ultimate goal of all life, and hence also of the moral, is
   the return into God (ii, 2, 11), namely, so that this differentness
   from God, all corporeality and individuality, ceases and passes over
   into God himself,--is transformed into Him (i, 10; v, 20, 27, 37, 38).
   Hence all moral effort is directed toward this uniting of one's self
   with God, toward the breaking down of the hampering limits of
   individual naturality, and realizes itself in a gradually progressive
   development (v, 8, 39). Morality must accordingly bear a predominantly
   spiritualistic and ascetic, negating character,--must disdainfully turn
   itself away from finite reality (iv, 5). Into details Erigena enters
   but little. It is perfectly consequential in him that he regards
   marriage, which rests on the difference of the sexes, as having
   originated solely in consequence of sin, whereas sinless man was
   sexless (ii, 6; iv, 12, 23). And yet marriage is now allowable, only,
   however, in view of the propagation of the race, irrespective of
   sensuous pleasure. Though the mystico-speculative bases of these
   ethical thoughts were of a very unchurchly character, still the
   thoughts themselves answered very well to the ascetic spirit of the
   then prevalent morality.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXIV.

   It is only in the twelfth century that ethics is seriously treated of
   by scholastic science;--first by Hildebert of Tours (ob. 1134), for the
   most part in the light of the Roman Eclectic and Stoic
   philosophies;--then by Abelard, who, however, treats, mostly in a mere
   preliminary manner, of the more general questions, giving proof of
   great acumen, but also sometimes enfeebling the significancy of
   sin;--very fruitfully by Peter Lombard, who presents, in the light of
   Augustinian thoughts, and with the help of ancient philosophy, a very
   clear and well-arranged total of Christian doctrine, of which ethics,
   though but briefly presented, constitutes an essential part;--but with
   greatest thoroughness and fullness by Thomas Aquinas, who made large
   use of the Aristotelian philosophy in perfecting a system of Christian
   speculation, and that, too, without thereby working serious detriment
   to the Christian idea.-- In Duns Scotus a sophistico-skeptical
   treatment of ethics began already to effect, in many respects, an
   enfeebling of the moral idea, and to prepare the way for the
   double-dealing morality of the Jesuits.--Through almost all the
   scholastic presentations of ethics there prevails a pretty great
   uniformity of spirit and manner of treatment, springing mostly from
   Augustine and Aristotle, and subsequently from Peter Lombard and Thomas
   Aquinas; evangelico-theological and ethnico-philosophical elements are
   often brought together, without that the latter element is always
   successfully mastered and molded into a Christian character. Ingenious
   and often truly speculative processes of thought, but frequently also
   trivial and fruitless hair-splittings, also a pedantic carrying out of
   particular schemata, and a preference for certain typical numbers in
   the distribution of the subject-matter,--such are the general
   characteristics of scholastic ethics.

   Contemporaneously with scholasticism prevailed also the science of
   casuistry, which had also to do with practical life; this science was
   ill fact influenced by scholasticism to a higher development, and it
   attained to its highest perfection in the fourteenth and fifteenth
   centuries.

   Hildebert of Tours (about 1100) treated ethics for the first time in a
   special work: Philosophia moralis de honesto et utili (Opp. Par. 1708,
   p. 961 sqq). In philosophical contents it is as yet feeble and
   dependent, and belongs rather to the sphere of Roman popular
   philosophy, especially that of Cicero and Seneca, than to speculative
   science proper; and the Christian element is thrown largely into the
   shade by that which is borrowed from heathen moralists; the four Greek
   virtues are servilely carried out; the relation of the honestum and
   utile is extensively discussed; and as a whole the work is immature and
   superficial. --Nearly cotemporaneously appears Abelard's Ethica, s.
   Scito te ipsum,--not a comprehensive system, but properly only a
   philosophico-theological introduction to ethics; it treats somewhat
   un-uniformly of general questions, and particularly of the essence of
   sin and of its imputation. The toning-down of Christian
   thoughts,--elsewhere observable in Abelard, in his over-estimating the
   natural capability of man,--shows itself also here. He distinguishes
   between a natural tendency to evil (called by him a "will") and the
   freely-resolved approving of the same; the former is not per se sinful
   and forbidden of God, for it has its seat in the sensuous and fragile
   nature of man, and it is not even yet a sin when it overcomes the
   reason; it becomes sin only by a real approving of sin; and it is for
   the simple reason that there is a natural tendency to evil in us, that
   the virtuous opposing of it becomes a moral desert. From this it
   follows, on the one hand, that man, in virtue of his very nature,
   cannot avoid all evil, though indeed this unavoidable evil is not
   imputed to him as guilt, and, on the other, that the essence of sin
   consists wholly and alone in the conscious choosing of it, and neither
   in the evil tendency preceding it, nor in the act proceeding therefrom.
   By the carrying-out of an evil intention the guilt of that intention
   becomes not greater, and by the omitting of its carrying-out, not less.
   Moral merit and guilt lie consequently entirely and alone in the
   disposition; actions themselves, per se considered, are morally
   indifferent. Hence he who does a bad act without a bad intention, does
   not sin. True, there is necessary also in order to the truly good not
   merely a well-meaning, but also a correctly-cognizing intention.
   Therefore it is that, while, because of the heathens' lack of a correct
   knowledge of the law and the truth, their unbelief and even their
   persecuting of the Christian martyrs cannot be imputed to them as real
   sins, yet, on the other hand, they cannot without faith become really
   saved; and the prayer of Christ on the cross for his persecutors shows
   that they did wrong in ignorance, and were in need of
   forgiveness.--There are thoughts here in Abelard which, while per se
   true, are yet one-sidedly pushed into the extreme, and thereby become
   erroneous. Thus, he explains the distinction, prevalent in the ethics
   of the Middle Ages, between mortal and venial sins, to mean this, that
   under the latter we are to understand those the immorality of which is
   indeed known to us in general, but is not clearly conscious and present
   to our mind at the moment of our consenting to them, and which are
   consequently committed rather in a state of forgetfulness. The ethics
   of Abelard was, not without reason, severely assailed by Bernard of
   Clairvaux, and is in many respects a fore-runner of the system of the
   Jesuits; but in his own day the conscience of the church was as yet
   somewhat quick and tender, and the synod of Sens (1140) expressly
   condemned the more questionable features of the same.

   The subject of ethics was treated with great skill, but rather
   ingeniously than profoundly, by Peter Lombard (ob. 1160), more
   especially in the third book of his Libri sententiarum,--a work which
   was for later schoolmen a very influential model and a high authority,
   though the relatively brief manner of treatment touches only upon the
   principal points. With a fully-developed system we are not as yet
   furnished; it is rather a dialectical analysis and examination of ideas
   than a profound speculative development from a fundamental principle.
   The ethical notions are presented first in definitions, then proved and
   illustrated by texts from Scripture and from the Fathers, and thereupon
   follow dialectical inquiries, comparisons of opposed views, and a
   definitive judgment.

   The notion "good" has both an objective and a subjective significancy.
   The good as object is the goal of the subjective good, the good will;
   this good object is blessedness; eternal life in God, and hence God
   himself in so far as he comes into communion with man (II, Dist. 38,
   40). The presupposition of all morally good is will-freedom. This
   freedom is primarily a threefold one: freedom from necessity, freedom
   from sin as a dominating power, and freedom from misery. The first is
   unforfeitable,--exists also in sinful man; the second is enjoyed by the
   redeemed, the third by the saved. Before the fall man had perfect
   freedom,--could, by his own strength, keep free from sin, though not
   attain to perfection save as aided by divine grace, as, on the other
   hand, he could in his own strength also turn to sin. Hence will-freedom
   is that capacity of the rational will whereby it, by the assistance of
   divine grace (gracia assistente), chooses the good, or, by not sharing
   in the same (eadem desistente), the evil. In the rational will there is
   a natural striving, though but feeble (licet tenuiter et exiliter), to
   choose the good; but, by the assistance of grace, it becomes powerful
   and efficacious (eficaciter), whereas man per se can effectually turn
   to evil. By the possibility of choice in the two directions, human
   liberty differs from divine liberty, which latter can eternally choose
   only the good. After the fall into sin, the truth: poterat peccare et
   not peccare, was changed into, potest peccare et non potest non
   peccare; that is, into a freedom very much trammeled indeed, though not
   yet sunk to necessity; the inwardly enfeebled and corrupted nature of
   man impels him constantly to sin, and allows him not to will and to
   accomplish the truly good. The redeemed, however, is free from this
   predominancy of evil desire,--has indeed as yet moral weakness, but
   also the assistance of divine grace; hence he can also yet sin,--in
   fact it is still true of him: non posse non peccare, but only as to
   venial sins, not as to mortal sins. In his ultimate perfection,
   however, the redeemed attains to a condition transcending the condition
   of unfallen man, namely: non posse peccare,--where all weakness is
   overcome, and man has risen to a moral impossibility of choosing evil;
   thus the threefold freedom becomes a fourfold one (II, Dist: 24, 25).

   Virtue is the right quality of the human will as turned toward the
   good. The ground-virtue is, therefore, love to God, as the substance of
   all good; and all virtues are closely involved in each other, so that
   he who truly possesses one, possesses them all, and he to whom one is
   lacking, lacks them all; no one can have simply one virtue, for love is
   the mother of all the virtues, and he who has the mother has also the
   children (III, Dist. 36). In agreement with Augustine, Peter Lombard
   presents three chief-virtues. which, however, are only different phases
   of the one love to God, namely: faith, hope, love (fides, spes,
   charitas). (1) FIDES est virtus, qua creduntur, quae non videntur,
   namely, in the sphere of the religious; this faith is threefold:)--(a)
   credere DEO, to believe the word of God; (b) credere DEUM, to believe
   in the existence of God; both these forms of faith are possible to the
   evil; (c) credere IN DEUM, to love God in faith, and to unite one's
   self with him; this is true faith, which leads also to truly good works
   (III, Dist. 23). (2) SPES est virtus, qua spiritualia et aeterna bona
   sperantu, i. e., cum fiducia exspectantur. This virtue is only briefly
   and insufficiently developed, and is not clearly enough distinguished
   from the first; for the statement that hope refers only to future good,
   while faith refers also to evil and to the past and to the present
   (III, Dist., 26), gives, after all, only the difference of a part from
   the whole. (3) CHARITAS est dilectio, qua diligitur deus propter se, et
   proximus propter deum vel in deo; God must be loved for his own sake,
   but our neighbor (and every human being is such) only for God's sake
   (III, Dist. 27 sqq.).--From another point of view,--and which is not
   properly brought into harmony with the first, but only joined to
   it--four other virtues (virtutes principales vel cardinales) are
   adopted, after the example of Plato and Augustine, and presented,
   namely: justitia, fortitudo (which manifests itself in suffering),
   prudentia, and temperantia (III, 33); after which, without any further
   development of these four virtues, are given the seven gifts of the
   Holy Spirit (taken from Isa. xi, 2, 3, in the Vulgate version, namely:
   wisdom, understanding, counsel, strength, knowledge, piety,
   God-fearing), as the conditions of the practice of virtue, and as
   spiritual virtues. Some further discussion of special points is given
   in connection with a presentation of the ten commandments and of the
   sacraments.

   In the steps of Peter Lombard follows, in all essential points,
   Alexander Hales (ob. 1245), though he develops some points more fully,
   and contributes thereto original matter,--especially is this the case
   in his discussion of the moral law, which he distinguishes into the
   natural, the Mosaic, and the evangelical (Summa univ. theol., pars
   III). He separates the moral part of theology more distinctly than had
   yet been done from the dogmatical, as the "doctrine of manners," and
   distributes it into the doctrine, first, of the divine law, second, of
   grace and the virtues, and, third, of the fruit of virtue.--(William of
   Paris [ob. 1249] discussed the more important points of morality in
   separate treatises grounded on Augustine and Aristotle). More learned,
   and especially distinguished by extensive use of Aristotle, are the
   ethical portions of the writings of Albertus Magnus (ob. 1280), though
   in other respects they do not contain very, much original speculation,
   and in some respects they show already a strong casuistical tendency.

   It is through Thomas Aquinas that scholastic ethics was most highly
   perfected both in form and in substance, and raised to a system of
   profound speculation. His great work, Summa theologiae, prima et
   secunda secundae, combines, in comprehensive thoroughness, a clear
   intellectual insight with deep religious knowledge and moral life
   experience. The style of presentation is indeed somewhat discursive,
   especially in the citing and refuting of opposite opinions, and runs
   often into unprofitable distinctions and splittings of ideas, but the
   substantial contents are in the main so sound and excellent, that the
   almost autocratical authority enjoyed by Thomas Aquinas, especially in
   the field of ethics--(an authority which has maintained itself unabated
   in the Romish Church up to the present day)--is essentially a
   well-merited one; the later ethics of the Romish Church could indeed
   fall below this model, but it has not surpassed it; and also for
   Protestant ethics have the works of this author been of great
   influence, and they are even yet of weighty import.

   The ethics of Thomas Aquinas, which is directly connected with his
   dogmatics, is distributed into a general and a special part, of which
   the former treats of the virtues and vices in general, and the latter
   of the same in detail, so that the whole is made to appear
   predominantly, though not exclusively, as the doctrine of virtue.--Man
   is the image of God principally in virtue of his reason; but an
   essential element of reason is the freedom of the will, namely, the
   free determining of our own activity. All activity, and hence also that
   of irrational creatures, has an end; hence human activity must have a
   rational end, and one which man knows as such, and which is aimed at by
   free will-determination, whereas irrational creatures seek their end
   unconsciously and from natural instinct. But rational ends are such
   only in so far as they do not constitute a mere interminable plurality,
   but converge and terminate in one last and highest good, upon which
   consequently all rational activity is directed. This one highest end,
   and hence the highest good, which the rational creature seeks to attain
   to, cannot consist in outward, perishable, and hence unessential
   things, but only in the one absolutely imperishable, the divine,
   namely, in communion with God, and hence in the absolutely perfect life
   of the rational creature,--in blessedness. God is the objective,
   blessedness the subjective, phase of the highest good. The human soul
   per se, and without being united with God, cannot be happy; hence the
   highest good is not a something belonging to the soul per se,--has its
   ground not in the soul but in God; the highest good in its objective
   phase, considered as an object, is not a created, but an uncreated and
   divine entity, which, however, is appropriated to himself by man. But
   this uncreated entity cannot be appropriated by sensuous perception,
   but solely through a spiritual grasping, through cognizing, through
   spiritual beholding or intuiting. Hence blessedness rests on an
   intuiting of God, and toward this, therefore, the rational activity of
   the soul is directed. This blessedness, as resting on the highest
   activity of the reason, cannot be wholly reached in this earthly,
   manifoldly-limited and dependent life, and, moreover, as being of an
   unending nature, it cannot be merited by finite actions,--it can only
   be appropriated by religious intuition, by contemplation, namely, in
   that God lovingly imparts himself, and therewith at the same time
   blessedness, to man. This appropriating is, however, not a merely
   passive bearing, not a will-less beholding, but a willing, loving, and
   love-enjoying embracing of the divine. In that the rational striving
   attains to perfect satisfaction and rest in God as the highest good,
   blessedness is enjoyment, the feeling of delight; this is, however, but
   one of the phases of blessedness,--the other is the visional
   cognizing.--The will of man,--ever directed toward a good,--is indeed
   free,--can be forced neither through an outward nor through an inward
   power to a given choice, nor is it so forced by God, for God leaves
   every created being to act according to its inborn nature; and hence
   the will can direct itself as well to a false and merely seeming good,
   as to the true good,--but this true good itself stands not within the
   free determination of man, but is absolutely determined by God and by
   the inner necessity of the case itself; man can, freely-willing, strive
   for it or fail of it, but he cannot posit any other good than the true
   one. There is no other highest good than God. The will is good when it
   hearkens to the reason; but the reason is truthful only when it
   hearkens to God and accepts illumination from him. Hence every action
   is evil which deviates from reason, and is evil also when this reason
   is in error (II, 1, 19); whatever does not spring from the conscience
   is sin; but the will that follows an erring reason is also not good,
   but evil, in so far as the error was avoidable. Hence only that action
   is truly good which follows, not merely reason in general as
   fortuitously determined in this or that particular person, but true
   reason,--which is conscious of the divine will, and determines itself
   thereafter.

   The readiness of the soul for well-acting is virtue,--which is
   consequently to be conceived of not as mere action, but as a permanent
   power and tendency for acting, as a habitus, as a power of the rational
   will. The virtues are primarily of a natural character; that is, such
   as belong to man as such, to his natural rational being, and are
   developed by exercise and habituation, although they cannot in
   themselves attain to perfection (ii, 1, qu. 55-59, 63). They are
   distinguished as knowledge-virtues and moral virtues (comp. §§ 17, 18);
   the former are wisdom, science, understanding and, connected therewith,
   prudence, and, in a somewhat peculiar sense, also art-skill. The moral
   virtues relate to desire; they fall into four cardinal virtues (ii, 1,
   qu. 60, 61; ii, 2, 47 sqq). (1) Virtue considered as a good of the
   reason, and as expressing the essence of the same, is prudence; this
   virtue is, as distinguished from wisdom, not the lord, but the servant
   of morality,--gives not the end proper, but only the means to the end
   of the practical reason. (2) The virtue which expresses the practical
   will-direction of the reason toward moral actions, is justness or
   righteousness; it relates to the realizing of the right,--is the
   constant and fixed will to give to each his right, and hence has to do
   with what we owe to others. It is true, man can in a certain sense be
   just also toward himself, namely, when reason holds in proper control
   the passions. Justness is the highest of the moral virtues, and
   includes in itself also piety, thankfulness, etc. (3) The virtue which
   expresses the practical will-direction of the reason toward the
   checking of all reason-resisting desires and passions, is
   temperateness. It holds within rational bounds all desires and
   pleasure-feelings which relate to sensuous goods, and all
   displeasure-feelings which spring from the lack of such goods.
   Modifications of this virtue are shame, reverentiality, abstinence,
   gentleness, modesty, humility, etc. (4) The virtue which expresses the
   practical will-direction of the reason toward the carrying-out of
   rational purposes as against opposing natural inclinations and
   affections, especially against fear in the face of dangers,--is
   courage. It wards off whatever would hinder the activity of the reason,
   and thus preserves man, as against all sensuous and irrational
   impulses, within the limits of rationality; it is, on the one hand,
   defensive, a firm calm enduring of hostile influences, and, on the
   other, offensive, in that it actually assaults the dangers; the first
   phase, however, is, for Christian morality, the predominant. The
   highest stage of Christian courage is martyrdom, wherein the main
   element is love. The several chief virtues are subdivided by Thomas
   Aquinas in a very far-reaching and excessively detailed manner, into
   very numerous special manifestation-forms.

   Above all the moral virtues, stand (not as co-ordinate therewith, but
   as in fact exalting them into a Christian character) the theological
   virtues, that is, the supernatural ones--those which have for their
   object the divine, the supernatural, and are not grounded in us by
   nature, but given (infusae) to us by God (ii, 1, 62 sqq.; ii, 2, 1-46);
   through these alone is perfection possible to man, even in the other or
   moral virtues.(1) Faith; this virtue relates not to the finite, but to
   God, and has as its presupposition, divine revelation. It is a thinking
   with an inner assent of the will, and must manifest itself also
   outwardly in confession. The object of faith is, in part, purely
   supernatural, transcending our knowledge and reason, and in part it can
   be discovered even through natural reason; but also that which is
   discoverable through reason has in fact been revealed by God out of
   love, and for purposes of culture. Faith is raised to a vital form only
   by the increment of love (fides formata); without love it is crude
   (informis). As faith is the foundation of all morality, so is unbelief
   the greatest sin; but as faith is a virtue, hence it is not allowable
   to bring a non-Christian to faith by force. The matter is, however,
   very different with heretics and apostates, for these have broken their
   vow, and hence fall under punishment; heresy deserves capital
   punishment (ii, 2, 10, art. 8, 9); and when a prince falls from faith
   and in consequence thereof, incurs the: ban of the Church, then are his
   subjects ipso facto free and absolved from his dominions and from their
   oath of fealty (ii, 2, 12, art. 2),--(2) Hope has for its object
   eternal blessedness, that is, the subjective phase of the highest good;
   it pre-supposes faith inasmuch as it is only by faith that eternal
   blessedness becomes known to us. With hope must be associated
   God-fearing, inasmuch as God is the executor of just punishments.--(3)
   Love is the most perfect of the virtues, and its presupposition is
   faith and hope. It is an intimate union of man with God, a possessing
   of God, and the shaping-form of all the other virtues, inasmuch as man
   is to do all good out of love to God; it endures forever, whereas faith
   ultimately passes over into sight, and hope into the possession of
   blessedness. This love, which is primarily love to God, and as such is
   not in us by nature, but is a divine grace-gift, enlarges itself
   spontaneously into love to men and to all creatures, as also into a
   love of man for himself and for his own body as created by God. But all
   love to the created must spring exclusively from our love to God, and
   it cannot relate approvingly to the evil that is in creatures, but
   rather seeks to eradicate it. Our enemies and bad men in general we are
   to love, not as bad, but as men, and for the sake of their rational
   nature. The degree of our love to creatures is to be in proportion to
   the union of the same with God. God himself is to be loved above all
   things, above even ourselves.

   This double classification of the virtues is doubtless the weakest side
   of the ethics of Thomas Aquinas and of the schoolmen in general. The
   theological and the natural virtues do not possibly admit of being
   brought into any clear relation to each other; they are based upon two
   utterly foreign and heterogeneous stand-points, and can be reduced
   neither to a condition of co-ordination nor of- subordination, but on
   the contrary, they constantly cross and cramp each other, and lead, on
   the one hand, to many repetitions, and, on the other, to an arbitrary
   distribution of the special virtue-manifestations. That love, even love
   to the creature, should appear solely as a theological virtue, is
   entirely unnatural. The separating of faith from wisdom is no less
   erroneous, inasmuch as Christian wisdom rests essentially on faith in
   God. The distinction made between knowledge-virtues and moral virtues
   suffers not only under all the defects of its prototype in Aristotle,
   but becomes more perplexed still by the distinguishing of both these
   classes from the theological virtues, inasmuch as a very essential part
   of that which Aristotle ascribes to wisdom must here be transferred to
   faith. And the matter is made still worse by the fact that the moral
   virtues are not presented strictly according to Aristotle, but
   according to the four chief virtues of Plato, who does not find any
   place for special knowledge-virtues, so that while, now, wisdom does
   not, yet prudence does, appear as a moral cardinal virtue, whereas in
   fact prudence belongs unquestionably along with wisdom to the
   knowledge-virtues, as is the case in Aristotle (§ 17). The fact is, the
   entire Greek schema is totally inadequate for the expression of the
   Christian virtues, and the violence of the process is felt at e-very
   step of the attempt. Even the utterly untenable position of Aristotle,
   that virtue always lies in the middle between two opposite aberrations
   (§ 17), is adopted by Thomas Aquinas, and applied even to the
   knowledge-virtues; to the theological-virtues he applies it only in
   this respect, that, in them, we are to reach a definite measure
   corresponding to our nature (ii, 1, 64),--to say the least, a strange
   application of the middle-way of Aristotle.

   On the virtues in general, Thomas Aquinas makes also the following
   observations, mostly in the spirit of Aristotle: every virtue is
   heightened in its power by exercise; all of them stand in connection
   with each other, and when they appear in their perfection, no one of
   them is without all the others. The virtues, according as they are
   viewed under different aspects, are, as to worth, in part equal and in
   part unequal; the knowledge-virtues are per se nobler than the moral
   virtues, inasmuch as reason is nobler than desire; but in respect to
   their activity, the moral virtues stand higher, as they are more
   fruitful in results. The perfect practice of virtue depends on the
   directly God-conferred seven gifts of the Spirit (ii, 1, 68), which
   make the person willing to follow the promptings of the Holy Spirit,--a
   thought which occurs already in Ambrose and in Gregory I., but in
   respect to which, even the intellectual acumen of a Thomas Aquinas does
   not succeed in making clear the relation of these gifts to the
   corresponding virtues; especially the theological.

   The moral activity determines itself according to a law; this law
   belongs to the sphere of reason. The eternal law is the universe-ruling
   divine reason, not the fortuitous reason of the individual. The laws of
   nature, and also those of the practical reason (ratio practica) are an
   efflux from the eternal law, and the human laws of the state and of
   society are in turn an efflux from both. The laws which lie merely in
   the natural reason do not suffice for morality; but there is needed, in
   order to the supernatural end of blessedness, also a positive divine
   law, which is made known and evidenced to all by revelation, and which
   at the same time also preserves the natural consciousness from all
   doubt (ii, 1, 90 sqq).--In the field of Christian morality the law
   proper, which is absolutely binding on all Christians, is to be
   distinguished from the counsels, which are left to free choice, though
   the following of them works a higher perfection and leads more speedily
   to the goal of salvation. The Old Testament law, as a law of servitude,
   had no such counsels; but the Gospel as a law of freedom has them, in
   order to bring men rightly to a consciousness of their freedom. The.
   clinging to the earthly hinders our arriving at the heavenly; hence the
   counsels hasten this arriving, in that they free man as far as possible
   from earthly enjoyments which are otherwise not forbidden to him; they
   therefore require poverty, perpetual chastity (that is, non-marriage),
   and the yoke of obedience (obedientiae servitus), the latter very
   erroneously based on Matt. xix, 21 ("follow me,") and on John x, 27
   (ii, 1, 108, art. 4; comp. ii, 2, 186).--The Christian law as
   distinguished from the natural law cannot be fulfilled by our own
   natural power, but only in virtue of the grace-gifts infused into the
   hearts of believers; and in so far man acquires for himself, by his
   virtue, no merit before God. Without grace no one can acquire the life
   of blessedness; on the presupposition of grace, however, man can in
   fact acquire a merit before God, and thereby an increase of grace and
   of the love of God, and hence also a heightening of his blessedness
   (meritum condigni) (ii, 1, 114).

   Opposed to the morally-good stands evil; to the virtuous act, sin; and
   to virtue as a habit, vice (ii, 1, 71 sqq.); sin and vice are in
   contradiction to true reason, and hence in general to the essence or
   nature of man. In reference to the kind of pleasure felt or sought in
   sin, sins are divided into spiritual and fleshly sins. In reference to
   their guilt and punishableness, they are classed into venial and mortal
   (peccata venalia et mortalia); the former consist in the turning to the
   finite without a conscious and designed turning-away from God, and they
   involve finite punishments, either here upon earth or in purgatory;
   mortal sins consist in a conscious and designed turning-away from, and
   hence in a conscious rebelling against, God and his will,--are contrary
   to the order of love, and hence involve eternal punishment. The gravity
   of the guilt is measured by the importance of the object, by the
   motives, by the degree of consciousness and of freedom, and by the
   spiritual character and position of the subject in society. In
   reference to the positive or negative contents of the action, sins fall
   into sins of commission and of omission (peccata commissionis et
   omissionis). In reference to their manner of commission, sins are sins
   of the heart, of the mouth, and of act (peccata cordis, oris, operis).
   In sin there is to be distinguished a twofold consent of the rational
   will, namely, to the pleasure in the sin, and to the sinful deed
   itself, the latter being the more criminal.--The causes of sin, as act,
   are in part direct, namely, erring cognition and volition-the regarding
   a seeming good as a real one, and the willing it, and, in part,
   indirect, namely, first, inner ones, such as imagination, sensuousness,
   ignorance, passion, and other already committed sins; and, second,
   outward or tempting ones, such as evil spirits and bad men; temptation,
   however, presupposes, in order to its effectualness, a sinful welcoming
   of it. God is not the cause of sin, though indeed, in virtue of his
   righteousness, He is the mediate cause of the consequences of sin, e.
   g., of the hardening of the heart. The sinful corruption which
   transmits itself from the first man to all following generations, that
   is, original sin, is, formally, the being destitute of original
   righteousness, and, materially, the tending of the soul-powers to false
   goods,--concupiscentia (75 sqq). The particular sins are severally
   treated of in connection with the virtues of which they are the
   violation.

   In his, not seldom very casuistical carrying out of details, Thomas
   Aquinas, notwithstanding his moral earnestness, does not, on the whole,
   incline to theoretical rigor, but leaves pretty free scope for personal
   determination in particular cases, and even in the face of outward
   human law. The right of property, for example, is, in his opinion, not
   unconditional; and in extreme cases of necessity, where the saving of
   life is involved, the right of self-preservation takes precedence of
   the right of property, and a person sins not when, in such a case, he
   openly or secretly takes from the refused superfluity of another that
   which he needs (ii, 2, sq. 66, 7).--To take interest for money loaned,
   he regards, in agreement with general ancient-Christian and Mediaeval
   opinion, as unallowable; otherwise the same thing would be paid for
   twice; he who sells a loaf of bread, may not demand another special
   payment for the eating of the same; he who lends receives, in fact, the
   purchase price with the return of the simple sum lent; however, it is
   not unallowable, in case of need, to pay interest to others for
   money.--The duty of truthfulness admits, indeed, of saying less than
   one knows to be the truth, but not more; for the little is a part of
   the whole. All lies are sins, though in different degrees; a conscious
   lie for the injury of another is a mortal sin, but a lie said in sport
   or a lie of courtesy (mendacium officiosum) in indifferent things, and
   where it injures no one, is a venial one (ii, 2, sq. 110, 4).

   Duns Scotus (ob. 1308), whose really speculative acumen went but too
   often astray into sophistical and skeptical reasonings, involved the
   moral idea, and above all its special application, in more than one
   respect, in uncertainty, namely, by his sophist-delight in the
   discovering and in the ingenious solving of contradictions and
   difficulties. A minutely spun-out quatenus makes room for the most
   opposite assumptions, and opens the way, to subjective discretion, for
   a lax construing of the law. Many elements in Scotus remind us
   strikingly of the later aberrations of the Jesuitical view. The notion
   of the freedom of the will he conceives, in opposition to Thomas
   Aquinas, as essentially a mere norm-less discretion, both in man and in
   God; while Aquinas held that man, as really rational, has, in his
   rational knowledge of the good, a motive--not a compelling one, it is
   true, but a motive--to the good, so that he cannot determine himself
   equally easily for the rational and the irrational, but has in fact a
   primitive, a constitutional inclination to the good, and that
   consequently the will does not by any means stand entirely neutral (ii,
   1, 9, 13, 17, 58), Duns Scotus maintains, on the contrary, that
   according to this view the will is not at all free, but is determined
   by knowledge; according to his view, the will, as free, is not ini the
   least bound by rational knowledge, but stands perfectly neutral, and
   can with like facility decide for, or against, the known good. [121]
   Likewise, also, is the freedom of the divine will in nowise to be
   conceived of as characterized by any inner necessity, so that, for
   example, God could not equally well will the opposite of that which he
   actually does will. A course of order is not willed by God and
   established as a law because it is good per se, but it is good simply
   and solely because God has willed it precisely so; but He might just as
   readily have willed the opposite thereof. Hence also God is not bound
   by his commands, and He can in fact annul them,--not merely the
   positive laws of Revelation, but also the natural laws of morals; only
   from the two first laws of the Decalogue, as resulting directly from
   the essence of God, can God not dispense. [122] It is evidently in the
   interest of this lax notion of liberty that Duns Scotus admits also of
   morally indifferent actions--not merely such manners of action, as,
   being neither commended nor forbidden, constitute the sphere of the
   allowed,--but also real, positive actions which are neither good nor
   evil, that is, which are not done out of love to God, but also not in
   opposition to Him. [123] Hence in regard to particular moral cases;
   Duns Scotus shows himself often very lax. Falsehood and
   misrepresentation he declares as, under certain circumstances,
   allowable. [124] An oath of promise obligates to its fulfillment only
   when the person had at the time of swearing it the intention of
   fulfilling it,--though of course an oath in which one did not have this
   intention, is a moral sin. [125]

   Scholastic ethics as a whole bears a pretty unvarying outward form. The
   method is, as the several points present themselves, first, to state
   the various opposing views with the reasons in their favor, and then to
   pass a decision upon the point itself; mere dicta of the Fathers,
   especially of Augustine and of Dionysius the Areopagite, and often also
   of the Philosophus, that is, Aristotle, suffice in and of themselves as
   conclusive proofs; texts from the Scriptures fall rather into the
   back-ground.--Despite the undeniable acumen shown by the schoolmen in
   the development of processes of reasoning, there is yet manifest also a
   lack of the courage to derive their philosophical systems purely and
   simply from the Christian consciousness. Graeco-Roman ethics was in
   fact, to the schoolmen, not a merely preliminary and preparatory study,
   but it was with them of quite too determining an influence, also in
   respect to the subject-matter of their science. They endeavor, indeed,
   with great earnestness to exalt extra-Christian philosophy into the
   sphere of Christian thought; it proves, however, an element too mighty
   for them, and they do not wholly escape entangling the Christian
   consciousness in the heathen, and thus robbing it of its peculiarity.
   They felt indeed the antagonism, but did not overcome it, and the
   prevalent lifeless juxtaposing of the two elements shows only their
   embarrassment, but not their ability to dominate the foreign
   material.--The almost universal resorting to certain favorite numbers
   in the division and classification of the subject-matter, particularly
   to three and seven, and also to four and twelve, is indeed based on an
   obscure consciousness of an inner order of the spiritual life; but this
   order does not come to a scientific consciousness, and the real reason
   for its observance is, after all, the typical significance of these
   numbers as sacred. That there should be presented precisely seven
   beatitudes, seven (diversely-stated) mortal sins, etc., seems without
   inner ground; and frequently this using of numbers sinks to jejune
   play, as, e. g., when a certain writer introduces every-where the
   number twelve,--in the dividing of his subject, in assigning reasons,
   in citing objections, etc.

   The ethical subject-matter treated of by the schoolmen was subsequently
   wrought over in large, though but little systemetized summaries in
   connection with appropriate citations from the Fathers, and placed
   within reach of the wider circles of the ecclesiastical world. To the
   period of Thomas Aquinas himself belongs the Summa of William Peraldus,
   [126] an essentially casuistical and pretty well digested appreciation
   of scholastic science; after which we may mention the Speculum morale,
   attributed to Vincent of Beauvais (ob. 1264), but originating in the
   fourteenth century; [127] and also the much used and very complete and
   erudite Summa of Antony of Florence (ob. 1450). [128]

   John of Salisbury (ob. 1180, as Bishop of Chartres), who opposed
   scholasticism proper with brilliant ability, but was rather empirical
   in regard to the source of knowledge, though in other respects of rich
   philosophical culture, undertook to give to the moral views of the
   Church a scientific expression; in his efforts he based himself most
   largely on Gregory the Great. To be perfect is God's essence, to become
   perfect is the task of man as God's image; man becomes perfect, and
   hence happy only by moral activity,--which activity rests, on the one
   hand, on the knowledge of the truth, and, on the other, on love to God.
   Since the fall into sin man can know the truth only in virtue of divine
   revelation and illumination, and he can realize the good only by the
   assistance of divine grace. Because of the evil desire inborn in all
   men, there is no virtue without a constant struggle of our love to
   righteousness, as strengthened by redemption, against our innate evil
   desires. Even as the essence and source of all sins is the natural
   desire as developed into pride and presumption (so that consequently
   all virtuous effort directs itself primarily against the pride of the
   heart), so the essence of all Christian virtue is that humility which
   springs from love to God, and which seeks to lay aside all self-will
   and to give God the glory in all things. Hence the moral worth of
   actions lies not in the work, but in the disposition; but from the
   right disposition there follows with moral necessity also the right
   work.--Morality is not, however, a merely individual task, it finds its
   full truth only in the moral community-life, which comes to expression
   in the church and in the closely therewith-connected Christian state.
   The State has, as a real moral organism, also a moral task, namely, to
   execute righteousness according to the divine will, and not only to
   protect the morality of the people, but also to foster and guide it.
   Hence the law which governs the state is to be an expression, not of
   human discretion, but only of the divine will, to which even the prince
   must absolutely subordinate himself; hence it must rest on God's
   revealed Word, and the vicegerents of God, that is, the representatives
   of the religious community-life--the Church,--must be also the
   animating soul of the Christian state; for, in fact, in its moral task,
   the Christian state is identical with the church. God-fearing is the
   life-power of the Christian state, and this state must therefore above
   all things recognize and honor both the moral right of the church and
   also the priests as the higher and, so to speak, divine element in
   worldly society. The priests indeed should not and may not themselves
   guide and administer the state; they are rather simply by their moral
   example, by doctrine, by exhortation, and by reproof, to influence the
   same, but the princes to whom by divine ordinance the guidance of the
   state belongs, have received the sword only from the higher moral
   community, the church, in order to execute justice in the name of the
   Christian idea; and so likewise stands the military order, knighthood,
   not merely in the service of the prince, but quite as fully, and in
   fact primarily, in the service of God, and hence of the church. A
   prince who breaks away from divine law, who rebels against the divine
   ordinances, and hence also against the church, has, as a tyrant,
   forfeited his moral right to the crown, and it is not merely legitimate
   to offer resistance to him, but also in any manner whatever, even by
   treachery or assassination, to get rid of him [Policraticus iv, 2]. The
   political doctrine of John of Salisbury is a Mediaeval Christian
   counterpart to Plato's doctrine of the state, with which he was not
   acquainted, and is in fact an attempt to introduce Augustine's Civitas
   Dei into the worldly state. [129]

   The fondness of Schoolmen for proposing difficult controversial
   questions led them inevitably into the province of casuistry; and this
   science--which had sustained itself alongside of
   scholasticism--subsequently borrowed from scholastic science much
   congenial material, and in part also a scientific form. Hence at the
   decline of scholasticism in the fourteenth century, casuistry entered
   in fact upon its brightest days. The works entitled Summae casuum
   conscientiae, were very much used in connection with confession and
   penance, and, as they generally contained also much matter relative to
   church law, also in ecclesiastical administration. In them we find a
   very imperfectly digested, and often merely alphabetical, summary of
   specific single moral questions, which relate in the main to what is
   allowed or disallowed, and the decision of which is given less from
   general principles than on the basis of the utterances of the more
   highly esteemed Fathers. The questions are often not taken from life at
   all, but are siniply invented in order to exercise ingenuity, as in
   riddle-solving; and in some of these works there is manifested a
   peculiarly fond lingering over extremely impure subjects. In the
   presence of the too exclusively considered individual case, the general
   principles involved in it are often wholly lost sight of, and ethics is
   in danger of degenerating into a sophistry of special-pleading,--into a
   treating of the moral merely empirically and skeptically; thus we find
   questions often extensively discussed, as doubtful, which cannot be in
   the least practically doubtful for the unsophisticated moral
   consciousness. The best known of these works are the Summae of Raymund
   of Pennaforti in the thirteenth century, [130] and of Astesanus in the
   fourteenth [131] (the Astesana, is cautious and judicious, contains
   also many general considerations, and is pretty systematic and
   comprehensive); Angelus of Clavasio in the fifteenth century [132] (the
   Angelica, perhaps the most extensively used; alphabetical, with much
   worthless matter, and often treating of indelicate questions);
   Sylvester Prierias, General of the Dominicans, the well-known opponent
   of Luther, gave in his Summa moralis, [133] generally called Summa
   summarum, an alphabetical compilation from others. (The Pisanella [1470
   and often], revised by Nicolas of Ausmo, 1471, '73, '74, '75, '78;
   Galensis, 1475; Rosella, 1516; Pacifica, 1574. The Biblia aurea, 1475,
   '81,--also in German, alphabetical.)--Also the Decretum of Gratian
   contains, in its first part, much that appertains to casuistical
   ethics.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [121] Quaestt. in libr. Sentent. ii, dist. 25, ed. Lugd., 1639, t. 6,
   p. 873 sqq.

   [122] Ibid. iii, dist. 37, t. 7, p. 857.

   [123] Ibid. ii, dist. 41.

   [124] Ibid. iii, dist. 38, p. 917.

   [125] Ibid. iii, dist. 39, p. 980.

   [126] Summa s. tractatius de virtutibus et vitiis, from the fifteenth
   century, (without date or place of printing, then at Col. Agr., 1479
   fol.; Basle, 1497, 8vo.) often reprinted.

   [127] Not in his Opp., 1481, but separately printed as a part of the
   great Speculum naturale, etc., 1473, and subsequently.

   [128] Summa theol., 1477, 1478, 1480, 1496; 1740, 4 vols.

   [129] Especially in his Policraticus.--(Reuter: Joh. v. S., 1842).
   Schaarschmidt: Joh. Saresb., 1862.

   [130] Summa de casibus poenitentiae, Verona, 1744; upon this is based
   the work of John of Freiburg, Augsb., 1472, and frequently.

   [131] S. d. cas. consc. (at first without date or place) about 1468-72
   fol.; then at Col., 1479; Norimb., 1482, and often later.

   [132] S. cas. consc., 1486 without place, fol.; Venet., 1487 4to.;
   Norimb., 1488, and often.

   [133] Printed in 1515 4to.; Argent., 1518 fol.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXV.

   The writings of the Mystics contain in the field of ethics many
   profound thoughts, though without rigidly scientific form. This is the
   case with Richard of St. Victor and Bonaventura. Less mystical than
   simply practical, and strongly emphasizing the subjective phase of
   morality, was the influence of Bernard of Clairvaux, and later, of
   Thomas à Kempis; while Eckart, and in part even Tauler, conceive the
   moral in the main negatively and quietistically (in the spirit of a
   Pantheistically-infected mysticism) as spiritual poverty,, as the
   turning-away of the spirit from all that is created. Occupying a
   mediating position between mysticism and scholasticism, also John
   Gerson seeks to give form to ethics, but he already begins to show
   signs of that paralysis of the moral spirit which had spread into the
   widest circles previously to the Reformation; Raymund de Sabunde deals
   in more popularly-practical modes of thought. In the spirit of the
   Reformation, and as its precursors, worked, in the field of ethics,
   also Wickliffe, Huss, John of Goch, and Savonarola.

   In contrast to the growingly-Aristotelian, dialectical treatment of
   ethics, the mystical anti-scholastic current of theology clings, more
   or less closely, to the writings of the supposed Areopagite (§ 31), but
   keeps for the most part clear from the daring speculations of John
   Scotus Erigena, and gives, in general, thoughtful meditations and
   profound glances of insight rather than rigorous and clear processes of
   reasoning. The freedom of the will is, by most of the Mediaeval
   mystics, pretty strongly emphasized; but the active working in the
   outer world is made largely to give place to the purely contemplative
   life.

   Richard of St. Victor (about 1150) treats, in several special works, of
   the inner life of the pious heart in its union with God,--a life which
   through contemplatio as distinguished from cogitatio and meditatio,
   passes over into self-forgetting love. The divine is not attained to by
   laborious thinking and doing, but by an immediate and spiritual, freely
   self-devoting vision or beholding, to which receptive state of the soul
   God lovingly manifests himself as in-streaming light. And the soul
   becomes receptive by the progressive cleansing of it from the dross of
   the earthly life, from the striving after the creature,--by
   self-immersion into itself, not in order to hold fast to itself in
   antithesis to God, but in order to aspire toward him in ardent
   love-desire; the goal is perfect, blissful rest in God; the condition
   is the operation of grace and the willing, joyous laying-hold upon the
   same on the part of the subject.--Bonaventura (ob. 1274) attempts to
   fuse dialectics with mysticism, but, notwithstanding his frequently
   almost overflowing subjectivity of feeling, his mysticism is less
   sustained and less deep than that of Richard St. Victor, and lingers
   more in the sphere of practical piety.--Bernard of Clairvaux (ob.
   1153),--opposing scholasticism in many respects not without good
   grounds, and confining himself mainly to the practical sphere,--has
   also carefully examined the subject of ethics in some of its parts; (De
   diligendo deo; De gradibus humilitatis et superb.; De gratia et libero
   arbitrio; De consideratione.) To true virtue belong two things: divine
   grace and a free, active embracing of the same; without freedom there
   is no responsibility. But freedom is threefold: first, freedom of
   nature as opposed to necessity; second, freedom of grace,--attained to
   through Christ,--that is, emancipation from the bondage of sin; and,
   third, freedom of glory which is realized in eternal blessedness, but
   enjoyed here only in moments of spiritual vision. Freedom of choice is
   from nature, but by grace it is regulated and attracted toward the
   good, though not forced. By simple free-will we belong to ourselves; by
   the willing of the good we belong to God; by the willing of evil, to
   Satan. The decision lies in our own hand; no one is forced to
   salvation. Love, as constituting the essence of the moral, has four
   degrees: first, man loves himself for his own sake; second, he loves
   God, not, however, for God's but for, his own sake, because without God
   he can do nothing; third, he loves God for God's sake, out of
   thankfulness for experienced love; fourth, he loves also himself solely
   for God's sake; this highest stage, that of true morality, is, however,
   but seldom enjoyed in this life. The essence of wisdom, on the whole,
   is, to behold and to love the invisible essence of God in all things,
   to give up all that we have to God, and to live only in God and for
   God. All true virtue is an expression of humility, whereby, in true
   self-knowledge man becomes nothing in his own eyes; humility leads in
   twelve stages to the truth, which truth in turn develops itself in
   three stages, the highest of which is the direct spiritual beholding of
   God. Humility, love, and the beholding of the truth, are the three
   aliments of the soul, corresponding to the Son, the Spirit, and the
   Father. The mystical element in Bernard shows itself mainly in the
   development of the doctrine of contemplation. Many of his principles he
   borrows from the ethics prevalent in his day, as, e. g., the four
   cardinal virtues, and also the notion of the middle-way as the essence
   of virtue.

   Master Eckart (a Dominican at Cologne, ob. 1329), [134] distinguished
   for profound insight, but not unfrequently overpassing, in his fervid
   soarings, the limits of the Christian world-theory, was of very great
   influence on subsequent mystics; taking his departure from Dionysius
   the Areopagite, he pushes the thought of the union of the soul with
   God, as the highest good to such a height as almost to lose sight of
   the individual existence of the creature, and of its distinctness from
   God,-- not, however, in the sense of modern Pantheism, but in that of
   John Scotus Erigena; The world is, strictly speaking, nothing at
   all,--is rather mere appearance than reality; God alone is real in
   whatever exists; God alone is the object of true love, and in this love
   all morality is comprehended. Hence the entire striving of man must be
   directed to this end, namely, to becoming at one with God, to laying
   aside his separate existence, to turning away from all that is created,
   to wishing nothing, loving nothing, knowing nothing but God alone--to
   merging himself into God, to transforming himself into God. If God is
   to come into the soul, then the creature must be driven out; if man is
   to become rich in God, then he must become poor in the creature. When
   man turns himself away from all that is finite, when he forgets himself
   and the world, and directs his soul exclusively toward God, then God
   pours himself into his soul,--God is born in the soul, and the soul has
   eternal rest in God. Virtuous working in the world is not the highest
   working, for in it man disperses himself into the multiplicity of the
   finite; he who has found God, who has God dwelling in himself, divests
   himself also of works,--seeks only the inner work, reposes in God
   alone; nay, he aims not at his own blessedness, for in fact this is
   also a clinging to self, to the created,--he aims only at giving
   himself wholly up to God, at sacrificing himself to God, at reducing
   himself to nothing, at cutting off and throwing away from himself
   whatever is finite or creature-like, or different from God; he breaks
   himself loose not only from sin, but also from the world and from his
   own self. Not man is to work, but he is to let God exclusively and
   alone work in him; such purity of heart, such freedom from all self,
   also from all personal volition, is the highest good, is the spiritual
   birth of God in the soul; we possess all good when we are united with
   God's nature, and a single glance at God "in his nakedness" is of more
   avail, and unites the soul more with God, than all the works of
   Christendom could accomplish.

   In a similar spirit, although less bold in emphasizing the mystical
   element, wrote and lived Tauler, Eckart's disciple (a Dominican at
   Cologne and Strasburg, ob. 1361). He presented, in his "Imitation of
   the humble Life of Christ," [135] a system of pure mysticism, and
   which, for that very reason, was one-sided and dangerous to the
   Christian consciousness. The essence of morality is spiritual poverty;
   the way to life, to "equality with God," is to become spiritually poor,
   to be separated from all that belongs to the creature, to cling to
   nothing among finite things; as, however, all that is finite must cling
   to something, hence man is to cling only to that which is above
   himself, to God. The poorer man is in the creature, so much the richer
   is he in God; God is intuited only immediately, without ally
   intervention of the creature; in so far as man looks to the creature he
   is distant from God. Man must put off from himself all that is
   multiple, manifold, in order to become rich in the One,--must be poor
   in knowledge in so far as knowledge relates to the finite and is
   involved in finite forms,--poor in virtue in so far as it is an acting
   in the finite (only the disposition is divine),--poor even in grace in
   so far as the soul in its union with God stands no longer in a mere
   relation of grace to God, but is actively led by God in harmony with
   himself in a divine manner. The sole true knowledge is the direct
   spiritual beholding of God. The sole virtue is simple love to God. God
   is free from every thing that is creatural; in spiritual poverty man
   becomes also free from and divested of all things,--presses, as a free
   soul, into the uncreated good, into God, and is no longer affected by
   earthly pleasure or by pain. Hence true divine freedom springs from
   poverty and humility; false freedom, from pride. God is a pure
   activity--a mere working; therefore also poverty is a pure working with
   God; now there are three kinds of work: (1) natural work, in part
   bodily and sensuous; this work must take place with moderation and in
   the Holy Ghost, and the senses must be indulged in their necessary
   wants; and in part, spiritual, as knowledge and love; also this work
   must take place only in so far as necessary, must be turned aside from
   all not absolutely essential things; otherwise it leads to pride. (2)
   Grace-work; in man, this work is primarily learning, namely, acquiring
   a knowledge of the Scriptures and of all the efficacy of the Holy
   Spirit, and hence also a knowledge of good and evil. When man permits
   himself to be guided by the divine Spirit that dwells within him, then
   he becomes a friend of God; as such, he must divest himself of all
   temporal things, and renounce them, for they are all null and void; he
   must simply follow Christ, and in so doing he attains (3) to the divine
   work in man; man is now one spirit with God, and seeks nothing but God;
   his work is God's work, and God's work is his own work; and God's
   spirit speaks to him no more in symbol and form, but in full life,
   light, and truth. All the powers of the soul keep holiday, arid are at
   rest, and let God alone work, and this is the highest work of which
   they are capable. The human spirit loses finally its own self, loses
   itself in God and knows no longer any thing but God; God puts himself
   in the place of reason in man, and works man's works; the soul merges
   itself into God and remains eternally hovering in God,--drowns itself
   in the unfathomable sea of divinity. Hence by the renouncing of all
   that is temporal, by true poverty, man becomes divested also of outward
   works. He who has no longer any thing wherewith to help his fellow-man,
   is in fact no longer required to do so; also external works belong to
   the sphere of the temporal, and hence man must pass through them and
   beyond them up to true poverty and vision; in this one work he works
   all works, and in this one virtue he has all virtues.--In Tauler the
   one phase of the moral, namely, union with God, is pushed one-sidedly
   into untruth, so that the right of the creatural individuality is
   relatively lost sight of, and hence we find in many respects
   Pantheistical forms of thought.--John Ruisbroch of Brussels (ob. 1381)
   wrote in a similar spirit, but strayed into a still more transcendental
   heart-mysticism, though his, works abound rather in allegorizing
   portrayals and confident assertions than in scientific demonstration.

   The comprehensiveness of a Gerson (ob. 1429) could not bring to a check
   the decline of the inner spirit of the church, which was now seriously
   affecting also the general moral consciousness. Scholasticism and
   casuistry had, by their interminable subtleties;. largely obscured the
   more simple moral modes of thought-;: and while puzzling themselves in
   fruitless speculation over the imaginary difficulties of
   cunningly-invented cases of conscience, they lost all sense for moral
   straightforwardness; and found abundant pretexts for making exceptions
   from the moral rule. The Franciscan, Jean Petit of Paris, was able, on
   occasion of the murder of the regent, the Duke of Orleans, in 1407, to
   find reasons for openly justifying the murder of tyrants, and the
   Council of Constance did not venture to pronounce a decided disapproval
   of this doctrine; and not only that, but it gave, for the first time,
   serious countenance to the notion of moral probabilism, that is, the
   doctrine that a morally doubtful action is permissible on condition
   that several esteemed Fathers can be cited in its favor. [136] Gerson,
   who opposed the doctrine of Petit with but half-heart, was also himself
   involved in the general laxity of the moral consciousness; he also
   countenanced probabilism. He held that the vow of celibacy was violated
   only by actual marriage but not by fornication, and for this sin he
   shows an excessive leniency. [137] The notorious morality of the
   Jesuits is not peculiar to them, but is only the further development of
   a spirit that was already powerful in the Romish church before the time
   of the Reformation. In other respects Gerson seeks, in his numerous
   writings on specific moral topics, to mitigate the erroneousness of the
   prevailing moral views; the monastic life and the doctrine of the
   divine counsels, he does not esteem so highly as did the spirit of his
   age; he finds the difference between venial and mortal sins rather in
   the subjective intention than in the objective nature of the sin. The
   mystical element appears in Gerson under a very moderated form.

   Thomas à Kempis (ob. 1471), the author of the most widely known of all
   books of devotion: De imitatione Christi (translated into all European
   languages, and published nearly two thousand times), shows himself in
   this book as a thoroughly practical, moderated mystic, of deep moral
   life-experience, and of genuine, heart-felt, morally-vigorous piety;
   and hence his work is not less prized in the Protestant than in the
   Romish church. The thoughts are presented in a clear, genuinely-popular
   style, and the rich heart-depth is thereby thrown all the more brightly
   into relief.--The book known as German Theology, published first by
   Luther in 1516, but springing from an unknown author of the fifteenth
   century, is based on Tauler, and is characterized by a somewhat more
   strongly speculative mysticism than that of Kempis,--emphasizing in an
   almost one-sided manner the turning-away from self and from the world,
   and the becoming united with God as the one eternal good, so that the
   moral right of the personality is thrown quite too far into the
   back-ground, and too little distinction is made between the personality
   itself and the "selfhood" that is to be done away with.

   Less peculiar in contents than in form, and differing equally from
   scholasticism and from mysticism, are the moral views of Raymund de
   Sabunde (of Toulouse, about 1430). [138] Appropriating to himself the
   results of preceding theological and philosophical thought, he
   undertook, rather from the stand-point of experience, of the
   observation of nature, and of the common sense of mankind, to place
   these results within reach of the understanding of the masses. The
   freedom of the will as directed toward the good is the highest
   possession of reason; called to the highest place in the scale of
   created beings, man should, by free conduct, show himself worthy of
   this calling,--should establish and preserve the harmony of the
   created. As man has received nothing from himself, but every thing from
   God alone, hence his first duty is thankful love to God who first loved
   him (tit. 96 sqq., 109 sqq.); love to self becomes moral only through
   love to God. Other creatures give us good only in so far as God works
   through them, and hence our love to them must be subordinated to our
   love to God; but out of this love to God follows also a love to that
   which He has created, and hence, first of all, to man as God's image;
   hence the requirement to love one's neighbor as one's self (120 sqq).
   Through love to God, man constantly grows in God-likeness, for amor
   convertit amantem in rem amatam (129 sqq.), though this is not to be
   taken in the sweeping sense of the Mystics. Evil consists in this, that
   we honor and love the creature not in God but for itself, and is
   consequently idolatry; the root of all evil is this impious love to
   self, that is, it is self-seeking and self-will; the devil seeks
   nothing but himself.--As in consequence of sin a general corruption of
   man's nature has been brought about, and as the power of sin over man
   is paralyzed only by redemption, hence Christian morality rests
   entirely on loving thankfulness to Christ, and involves a constant
   struggle against the remains of sin that still infect us.

   The evangelical tendency which during the time of the universal
   domination of the Romish church had never entirely disappeared, and
   which, especially since the appearance of the Waldenses, had been
   growing more positive in its opposition to the corrupted church,
   directed its efforts from the very first against the anti-scriptural
   and arbitrary ordinances of said church, especially against the
   work-holiness of monastic morality, in order to vindicate the moral
   freedom of the Christian personality, and also against the sophistical
   laxity of the more recent period; this tendency insists above all upon
   faith-born love as the source and essence of all true morality, and
   rejects the notion of supererogatory merit as arising from the
   observance of the so-called evangelical counsels.--So taught Wickliffe
   in his Trialogus, but rather as assailing than as positively building
   up; all sin, he refers to a lack in true faith; a correct knowledge of
   faith precludes sin; true virtue is not possible without true faith; a
   correct knowledge of faith precludes sin; true virtue is not possible
   without true faith; hence by a man's virtue one can judge of his faith.
   Wickliffe's over-rigid and almost deterministic predestinarianism
   simply stands, unmediated, along-side of his moral views, and merely
   impedes their freer scope.--Also Huss combats, in the ethical field,
   chiefly only against the errors of Romish dogmas and morals, without
   himself establishing any thing essentially new.--Violent and keen, and
   generally, though not always, purely evangelical are also the assaults
   of Nicolas de Clamengis [Clemangis] in France--ob. about 1440--against
   the corruption of the moral consciousness of the church). [139] --John
   of Goch, of Malines (ob. 1475) assailed, from an Augustinian
   stand-point, the commingling of the evangelical with the Mosaic law,
   also the system of vows, and outward work-holiness in general; faith as
   working by love is the essence of Christian freedom and morality. [140]
   The influence of Savonarola in Florence lay more in his fiery zeal for
   pure evangelical morality than in fruits of scientific thought; in his
   mode of thinking, the phase of the God-possessecl affections stands
   forth with most prominence; a mystical subjectiveness is combined with
   a fervent work-activity. [141]

   If we leave out of view these teachers of the church who were
   forerunners of the Reformation, we find in general in the
   ecclesiastical ethics prevailing before the opening of this Reformation
   a threefold character: a casuistical, a scholastic, and a mystical one,
   corresponding to the three phases of the soul-life, namely, to the
   empirical understanding, to the speculative reason and to the loving
   heart. The mystical form of ethics is the pure antithesis to the
   casuistical; the former rests on heart-union with God, the latter on
   the analyzing understanding; the former, upon an inward ineffable
   vision, the latter, upon outward calculating observation; the former
   strays at times int6 the borders of Pantheism, and hence has some
   points of contact with the cosmic theory of India; the. latter is
   rather in danger of repeating, in the Christian sphere, the Jewish
   externality and chicanery of Pharisaism and Talmudism;--the former
   reduces all plurality, all heterogeneousness, to a homogeneous
   unity,--endangers the practically moral working-life in the world; the
   latter dissolves the moral idea into an atomistic plurality of single
   cases devoid of uniting bond;--mysticism turns itself away disdainfully
   from all objective reality even of the moral life; casuistry threatens
   to bind up and to smother the moral in narrow legal forms; mysticism
   turns away from the circumference toward the center, but does not
   return again from the center to the circumference; casuistry proceeds
   and stumbles by a reverse course;-the former tends to a
   lightly-esteeming of the active life, the latter to a hypocritical and
   external work-holiness. Speculative ethics, especially in Thomas
   Aquinas, stands higher than in either of the other two forms, but lacks
   too much in evangelical directness and simplicity; and because of its
   double dependence on Greek ethics, on the one hand, and on the
   evangelical church-creed, on the other, it has not only compromised its
   legitimate and essential freedom, but, at the same time, also its
   truth. Notwithstanding this, however, it stands (especially in its
   highest perfection in Thomas Aquinas) far more closely to the
   evangelical consciousness than the later form of Roman Catholic ethics
   as presented by the zealous champion of the Romish church, the Jesuits.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [134] Schriften, edited by Pfeiffer, 1847,--(mostly sermons; larger
   scientific works of his appear to be lost. C. Schmidt in Stud. u.
   Krit., 1839; Martensen, 1842; J. Back, 1864.

   [135] Edited by Schlosser, 1833 (in modern German); his sermons are
   mostly practico-edificatory. The work, Medulla animae, is not by Tauler
   C. Schmidt: J. Tauler, 1841.

   [136] Marheinecke: Gesch. d. christl Moral, etc., 1806, p. 161 sqq.;
   Stäudlin: Gesch. d. ch. Mor. seit. d. Wiederaufl., etc., p. 63 sqq.;
   Wessenberg: Kirschenversamml., 2, 247.

   [137] Opp., Antv., 1706, t. iii, 917 sqq.

   [138] Theologia naturalis, Solisb., 1852.--Matzke: R. v. S., 1816.

   [139] De corrupto eccl. statu, and in briefer essays and letters, Opp.,
   1613.

   [140] Ullmann: Reformatoren vor d. Ref., 1841, i.

   [141] Rudelbach: Sav., 1835; F. C. Meier, 1836.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

III. THE EPOCH OF REFORM.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXVI.

   The antagonism of the evangelical ground-thought to that of Romanism
   manifested itself also in ethics. In the evangelical or Protestant
   church the sinful corruption of the natural man was conceived much more
   deeply, and consequently the moral task of the Christian much more
   earnestly; and, as a consequence of the impossibility of meriting
   salvation by our works, Christian virtue was conceived, in much greater
   freedom from self-seeking, as the-simple fruit of faith; and the notion
   of supererogatory works became impossible in view of the decided
   recognition, that the life even of the most holy always falls short of
   moral perfection. The Scriptural view excludes a very essential portion
   of Romish ethics from that of the evangelical church. [142]

   The semi-Pelagian enfeebling of the effects of sin that prevailed in
   the Romish church, deprived ethics of its proper deep-reaching
   foundation. The more deeply the moral corruption of man is conceived
   of, so much the greater becomes also the significancy of redemption,
   and likewise also of the moral struggle of the regenerated Christian
   against sin. Hence the, at first thought, surprising phenomenon that
   the rigid predestinarianism of Calvin did not lead to a decline in
   moral effort, but on the contrary to a very vigorous moral life. In the
   deep earnestness of their conception of the moral task, both
   evangelical churches, the Lutheran and the Reformed, stand alike.

   The Holy Scriptures are the sole fountain of Christian ethics, just as,
   living faith in Christ as the sole cause of salvation, is also the
   subjective ground and the living fountain of morality. All blessedness
   is imparted to us without our meriting it, and solely of grace; but
   good works, as the necessary effects of true faith, are the certain
   verification of the same. The moral law is not. as in the Romish
   church, predominantly objective, but is of a strictly inward character.
   No one can do more than what God requires of him, for man is called to
   perfection; all that is truly good is a requirement of the divine law
   and not of any mere counsels, which, without the forfeiture of a
   God-pleasing life, might in so far be left undone,--all the good that
   we can do, we are also under obligation to do. The so-called counsels
   of the Romish church are rather a hindering than a furthering of the
   good, for they stand in the way of active love, and nourish the
   delusion of personal merit. Monastic vows are not consistent with vital
   faith. As man is saved only in virtue of redemption through Christ,
   hence his salvation rests solely on the worthiness of Christ, and not
   on personal merit; all true virtue must be simply a fruit of faith, and
   hence of an already-acquired divine sonship, and consequently, though
   it may verify this sonship, it cannot first acquire or heighten it.

   Evangelical ethics is therefore apparently much less comprehensive in
   its subject-matter than that of the Ronlish church,--treats a not
   inconsiderable portion of the latter merely condemnatorily, as, e. g.,
   the entire subject of asceticism, and of opera supererogatoria as
   fulfilling the counsels; on the other hand, however, it has a deeper
   ground and a higher earnestness. Romish asceticism simply hides from
   view the inner lack of a truly evangelically moral depth. He who has
   understood the entire and profound earnestness of the moral life-task,
   and is conscious, how far the reality still falls below the moral
   prototype, can never come upon the thought of attempting, in addition
   to the moral task proposed to us by God, to perform still other
   additional works, in order to attain to a still higher degree of
   sanctity. All these self-imposed works are really an implication that
   God placed the moral goal of man too low, and that He is thankfully
   pleased to accept the voluntary and non-owed over-payment of those who
   feel themselves superior to the ordinary assessment.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [142] Comp. H. Merz: System der christl. Sittenlehre in seiner
   Gestaltung nach den Grundsetzen des Protestantismus im Gegensatze zum
   Katholicismus, Tüb., 1841,--ingenious, but prepossessed by speculative
   theories, and doing injustice to both sides.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXVII.

   The Reformers themselves treat the moral contents of the Christian
   consciousness for the most part only practically; Melanchthon. develops
   in his Loci merely the ground-thoughts, though he also attempts, on the
   basis of Aristotle, a philosophical establishing of the foundations of
   ethics; Calvin gives only brief outlines, independently of the earlier
   scholastic method. The antithesis of the two evangelical churches
   manifested itself also in wide-reaching differences of ethical views.
   As an independent theological science, ethics was somewhat earlier
   treated in the Reformed than in the Lutheran church. In the latter, it
   was at first either combined, in its mere ground-principles, with
   dogmatics, or treated merely practically and popularly; G. Calixtus,
   however, treated it as a science distinctly separate from dogmatics,
   though only in its scanty beginnings. From this time forward it was
   frequently treated independently, though for the most part, even as
   late as into the eighteenth century, only as casuistry; and Pietism,
   which embraced so earnestly the ethical contents of Christianity,
   although with some formal narrowness, prepared the way for a profounder
   scientific treatment of ethics.

   Luther himself, who embraced the evangelical ground-truths so clearly
   and distinctly, was not called by the general scope of his activity to
   the preparing of a system of scientific ethics proper. His warfare
   against Romish work-holiness, and against the formal, subtle and
   freedom-hampering casuistry of the Romanists, must have awakened in him
   a certain disinclination to a rigidly-scientific development of ethics,
   and an anxiety lest such a work might sink the free moral activity of
   the Christian from the sphere of faith-communion with Christ into
   unfree and juridical forms. He expressed it repeatedly, that the true
   believer needs no law at all, because faith itself is both law and
   power, and spontaneously works the God-pleasing out of free love
   without being hampered by an objective law. As the apple-tree bears its
   fruit not in virtue of a law given to it, but out of its own proper
   nature, so are all Christians so tempered by faith that they
   spontaneously do well and righteously better than all laws could teach
   them to do. Even as the tree must exist antecedently to its fruit, and
   as the fruit does not make a tree good or bad, but the tree makes the
   fruit, so must man be good or bad before he does good or bad works. The
   Christian's love is to be an outward-gushing love, flowing from within
   out of the heart, out of his own little fountain; the spring and the
   stream are themselves to be good,--are not to derive their waters from
   without. Christ was a Redeemer, not a Lawgiver, and the Gospel is not
   to be turned into a book of laws. With such views, so directly
   antagonistic to the common Romish teaching, if we except the Mystics,
   it was natural that a rigidly-drawn-up system of ethics might seem a
   hampering to faith-born freedom,-- might seem like an adulterating of
   the teachings of the Gospel with the doctrine of the law. This period
   of agitated contest was therefore little adapted to the scientific
   development of a system of ethics; this science was in fact the fruit
   of the evangelical life as having come to inner peace and stability,
   and as grown ripe through long experience in faith.

   Of the chief Reformers, only Melanchthon,--who was of solid classic
   culture, and who gave proof, at the time of his scientific maturity,
   both of decided fondness for, and of a thorough understanding of,
   Aristotle,--indicated, in his theological writings not only the
   ground-thoughts of evangelical ethics, but gave even the outlines of a
   system of philosophical ethics. Besides his valuable comments on the
   Ethics and Politics of Aristotle, [143] he wrote, on the basis of
   Aristotelian principles, Philosophiae moralis epitome, 1538. [144] In
   this work Melanchthon keeps philosophical ethics and the Christian
   knowledge of the moral strictly separate. The former is capable of
   comprehending and presenting only a part of the divine law; it gives
   only the natural law; but this is also a true divine law, which is
   implanted in human reason; and the philosophical knowledge of the same
   is a legitimate requirement and is an education toward the higher
   truth, as also the true foundation of all civil legislation, and is
   consequently by no means to be despised; moral reason is the mirror
   from which the wisdom of God is reflected forth [Corp. Ref., pp. 21-27;
   comp. 277]. The method of the work follows the plan of the ethics of
   Aristotle, but presents far more solid principles. Man is the image of
   God, and his goal is the true development and manifestation of this
   image. Hence the end of man is to know and to recognize God, his
   prototype, arid to manifest, in and through himself, the glory of God,
   by willing and complete obedience [28 sqq]. Of the virtues that fall
   within the scope of philosophical ethics, righteousness or justness
   takes first rank, and this virtue is pretty fully discussed [63 sqq.],
   especially in its civic significancy; more briefly are treated the
   virtues of truthfulness, beneficence, thankfulness, and
   friendship.--His philosophical ethics appeared, in 1550, entirely
   re-written and more independent of Aristotle, as Ethicae doctrinae
   elementa et enarratio libri quinti Ethicorum, and afterward in 1554,
   '57, '60, and frequently after Melanchthon's death. [145] This
   excellent work, though not comprehensive,--shorter even than the
   previous work, and presenting only the general bases of the moral, and
   examining more fully only certain special and, in part, civic
   questions,--is written in a clear, concise, and beautiful style, and is
   a worthy commencement toward a system of evangelical and, in fact,
   essentially philosophical ethics,--since the seventeenth century
   undeservedly laid aside, and also-in more recent times almost
   forgotten.--A knowledge of the virtues is necessary, because it shows
   that God is; for the eternal and immutable distinction of the moral and
   the immoral in our reason cannot be fortuitous, hut must proceed from
   the eternal, prescribing reason itself; it shows also how God is,
   namely, wise, free, truthful, just, beneficent, merciful, etc.; it is a
   witness of God's justly retributing judgments, and is a life-norm for
   men in outward (not spiritual) actions and in discipline. Natural
   reason, however, can discover neither the ground of the enfeeblement
   which has resulted from sin, nor the means of salvation therefrom;
   hence philosophy, without the Gospel, does not suffice [Corp. Ref.,
   165-167]. Moral philosophy is the scientific presentation of the moral
   law of nature in the sphere of external morals and discipline, and is,
   in this field, in harmony with the Decalogue, and in so far also with
   the Gospel; for the moral law is the eternal and immutable wisdom and
   measure of the justice of God, obligating all rational creatures, and
   condemning those who come into conflict with it; but the Gospel
   preaches repentance, and promises forgiveness of sins on the ground of
   redemption by grace. Now, though moral philosophy knows nothing of this
   promise, yet, as being a part of the law, it also, on its part, leads
   toward the Gospel, and is therefore not to be despised [C. R.,
   167-170].--Ethics inquires first of all after the goal of the moral
   course. This goal or end is God himself, who lovingly communicates
   himself to us, and hence the true knowledge and reverencing of God. God
   created man unto his image, hence He wills that He should himself be
   manifested in and through man, namely, in that man becomes morally like
   unto Him; only in a derived sense can it be said that virtue is the end
   of man, as the highest good. The good is that which harmonizes with the
   God-set goal; hence evil is a disturbing of the divine plan; and evil
   is primarily a malum culpae, in pure antagonism to the divine will, and
   then, secondarily, a malum poenae, which by the divine, righteous will
   is made to follow upon the guilty malum culpae; God is in no sense
   whatever the author or accomplice of sin,--to affirm this would be
   blasphemy,--though He is indeed the author of the punishment [C. R.,
   170-183].--Virtue, as an acquired tendency to obey right reason, is
   conditioned on the fact that, on the ohe hand, reason guides the will
   by a right judgment, and that on the other the will freely,
   persistently and firmly lays hold upon this judgment, and has pleasure
   in so doing. A knowledge of the law and a free-will are the
   characteristics of the divine image as created in man by divine love;
   virtue is the moral realization of this image,--is thankful, answering
   love for received love. In reason, as darkened by sin, this knowledge
   and freedom are indeed enfeebled, but not annihilated, and there
   remained in man a moral consciousness of right and wrong, and some
   degree of freedom to act conformably to this consciousness. Hence, the
   will is then truly good when it corresponds to the moral consciousness
   in so far as this consciousness harmonizes with the divine will. Hence
   virtue--more definitely stated--is the tendency of the will constantly
   to hearken to the moral consciousness for God's sake and out of
   thankfulness toward him [183 sqq]. The thought of the moral freedom of
   the will is, now, thoroughly, carefully, and very emphatically
   developed by Melanchthon, and an attempt made to establish it by
   Scripture (in harmony with Loci, iv, edition of 1559). Man as man, and
   hence even unredeemed man, has in the moral sphere a free discretion to
   prefer morality to crime, to perform outward moral works and to
   preserve discipline, and it is God's will that such discipline and
   order be freely preserved--not merely from fear, but also for
   conscience' sake. Indeed, genuine God-fearing, right trust and right
   love to God, steadfastness in confession, and hence, in fact, all the
   truly God-pleasing spiritual virtues, are impossible without the
   assistance of the Holy Spirit; in this assistance, however, man is not
   purely inactive like a statue, but reason must attentively lay hold on
   the Word of God, and the will must not resist, but must yield to the
   gracious workings of the Holy Spirit, and aspire after divine support.
   Absolute predestination and Stoic fatality are equally to be rejected.
   The passions--by which Melanchthon understands both the impulses of
   feeling and the desires--are not to be suppressed as irrational, as the
   Stoics teach, but are to be taken into the service of the moral reason,
   and those that have become evil by sin are to be resisted
   [201-207].--The distribution of the virtues is best made according to
   the Decalogue. But the commands of the first table cannot be adequately
   known in a purely philosophical manner; nevertheless, some points may
   be made. Every effect is dependent on its cause, and must remain in
   harmony therewith; man is an effect of God, consequently he ought to
   remain in harmony with God, and not break off the bond that unites him
   with God. Moreover, as the image of God, man has the duty of remaining
   in likeness and harmony with God [214, 215]. In the commandments of the
   second table appears, first, the virtue of justness, and in fact
   primarily in a general character, in the relation of those who guide
   and those who are guided, in which relation obedience to parents and to
   the magistracy, and piety in general, appear as a moral law of nature.
   Justness in its special form--that which gives to every one his
   dues--appears in the three following commandments, which require the
   preserving of every one in his rights, in respect to life, to
   wedlock-fidelity and to property. The second chief virtue, as expressed
   in the eighth commandment, is truthfulness, which is a necessary
   requirement of the rational nature of man; for in fact reason consists
   essentially in a knowledge of the truth, and consequently it also
   requires the truth. The two last commandments enjoin temperateness, but
   they are not developed in detail. To these three chief virtues the
   others are joined as branches, namely, steadfastness to truthfulness,
   and thankfulness, beneficence, diligence, etc., to justness, especially
   justness toward God [215-222].--In his second book, Melanchthon gives a
   development of the virtue of justness in detail, with the omission of
   the other virtues. Justness, or righteousness in the evangelical
   sense--the virtue which acquires for man eternal salvation--cannot be
   attained to by mere human effort because of the prevalence of sin, but
   is imparted to man by grace in virtue of redemption; in moral
   philosophy the question is therefore only as to the justness which
   consists in the outward fulfilling of positive laws. This justness is,
   in part, of a general character, consisting in obedience to law both
   human and divine [as in Rom. ii, 13; Psa. cxix, 121], and in part of a
   special character; the latter is, in its turn, of a distributive and of
   an exchanging character; as distributive it relates to social order, as
   well to social superordination and subordination as to the calling of
   the proper persons to particular offices, and to rewarding and
   punishing, and hence, in general, to the upholding of proper
   discipline,--as exchanging it relates to the moral intercourse and
   commerce of men among each other as equals. The practice of justness,
   and hence also obedience toward those holding office and authority,
   takes place not merely in virtue of human laws, but also in the
   fulfilling of the divine will; the proper human ordinances of society
   are God's ordinances. A violation of the law of nature, and hence also
   disobedience toward the legitimate ordinances of civil authority, is
   consequently not merely a civil misdemeanor, but also a sin against
   God, a mortal sin. The ordinances of the natural law are in part
   unconditional, and hence divine and perpetually-valid commands, such as
   obedience toward God, parental duties, the virtue of truthfulness; and,
   in part, only conditionally-valid, such as the keeping of peace and the
   communistic use of property; the latter feature, in fact, would be
   obligatory only on condition that mankind were not corrupted by sin; in
   consequence of sin, however, the forcible protection and distinct
   separation of property become necessary [222-234]. The guilt of
   transgressions of the law is different according as the person does or
   does not act with a clear consciousness of the law and of the deed;
   guiltily-incurred error excuses not the deed, but rather heightens the
   guilt, inasmuch as it is our duty to seek after the truth. Also violent
   passions do not make the unlawful action an involuntary one, for man
   -may and ought to control his passions [237-240].--Hereupon, and
   apropos to the assumption of power on the part of the Pope over secular
   governments, Melanchthon treats of the nature of, and the difference
   between, the spiritual and the temporal powers, in essential agreement
   with what he had said in his Loci [20, 21]; this is followed by
   disquisitions on questions of civil right, on taxes and contracts.

   In his Loci Melanchthon gives the general bases of the moral
   consciousness in strictly Biblical form [Loci 3-6; 8-11]. The Old
   Testament law is not identical with the eternal moral law, but contains
   besides this law (which is indeed not fully included in the Decalogue,
   but only indicated in its chief features) also the ceremonial and the
   civil law, both of which had validity only until the advent of
   Christianity. The moral law is the immediate and pure expression of the
   divine wisdom and justness themselves, and hence was not first given by
   Moses, but was always valid from the very beginning. Melanchthon's
   somewhat extensive examination of the several divine laws in the order
   of the Decalogue, may serve in many respects to complement his
   philosophical ethics. He writes, here, free from the cramping fetters
   of the long-observed schemata, and reckons among the "works" of the
   first commandment: a proper knowledge of God, God-fearing, faith, love,
   hope, patience, and humility. The Romish doctrine of the counsels he
   refutes and rejects. The distinction between mortal and venial sins he
   indeed retains, but he conceives it much more deeply,--understanding
   under the latter such sins as are committed by Christians without evil
   intention and with inner resistance to the evil, and are followed by
   honest repentance, and under the latter those which are committed
   premeditatedly and against conscience [Loc., 11]. In addition to this,
   Melanchthon examines in special treaties and letters many particular,
   and especially practico-moral, questions, [146] in a very judicious
   manner.

   In his scientific conception of the ethical task, Melanchthon furnishes
   an essential complement to that of Luther, who fixed his attention
   simply on the fact of the moral life of the regenerated as such,
   without shaping the development of this fact out of the inner heart of
   the Christian life, into an ethical science. Melanchthon himself,
   however, did not complete this task, but simply began it; and although
   we find in him frequently a slight over-estimation of Aristotle, still
   we perceive in the vigorous manner in which, in his last ethical
   writings, he breaks loose from all cramping and foreign forms and
   thoughts, and lays an entirely new, purely Christian foundation, how
   clearly he comprehended his task,--the carrying-out of which was
   delayed by the soon-following inner struggles of the evangelical
   church; only a few writers--Chytraeus, Victorin Strigel and Nicholas
   Hemming--followed, in, as yet, feeble attempts, upon the path marked
   out by Melanchthon. [147]

   The rigid predestinarianism of Calvin seems at first thought still more
   unfavorable for the development of ethics than the stand-point of
   Luther; in reality, however, the Reformed church developed an
   independent system of ethics earlier than the Lutheran. The
   juridically-dialectic ground-character of the Calvinistic
   world-conception necessarily led sooner than the more
   mystically-inclined subjective Lutheran view, to a rigorous development
   of the practical phase of religion. In his Institutio [iii, 6-10]
   Calvin gives a short, plainly-biblical presentation of the bases of
   Christian morality,--which, of course, can be actually practiced only
   by the predestinated, but which is however for them, as being called to
   purity, an unconditional duty. That virtue cannot actually obtain for
   us salvation--communion with God--but is simply the necessary fruit of
   the salvation already obtained by grace, and the constant bond of this
   communion as established by grace, Calvin affirms very definitely.
   Therein, precisely, consists, in his view, the essential superiority of
   Christian to philosophical ethics, namely, that the former gives much
   deeper-reaching motives for the good than the latter, to wit, thankful
   love in return for God's love as revealed in redemption, and confiding
   love to the Redeemer, in whom we have at the same time the perfect
   personal pattern of the moral life. Out of this love to God in Christ
   flows a love of justness or righteousness (in the Biblical sense of the
   word) as the basis of the entire religious life. But the essence of
   Christian righteousness consists in perfect self-denial, that is, in
   the renunciation of all self-will and self-reason as opposed to
   God,--in an unreserved surrender to God and his will; it draws us away
   from love to the world, but must not sink into self-mortification and
   false asceticism. Man must not, by arbitrary non-Scriptural ordinances,
   impose upon himself a yoke. The moral life manifests itself [according
   to Titus ii, 12] in three chief virtues: soberness, righteousness and
   piety; to the first (sobrietas), which relates to the subject himself,
   belong also chastity, temperateness and the enduring of privation; the
   second relates to other men, and gives to each his dues; the third
   separates us from the impurity of the world and unites us with
   God.--Calvin gives expression, on the whole, also in his other numerous
   moral essays, especially in his exegetical writings, to a moral view
   which is no less earnest than sound, and generally keeps clear of all
   un-Biblical austerity. To the Romish seeking of holiness by abnegation,
   he opposes the thought, that the goods of this world are designed not
   merely for our absolute wants, but also for our moral delight; their
   enjoyment is not forbidden, but it should be made to contribute to the
   glory of God. The strict church discipline established and exercised by
   Calvin was indeed an offense to a gainsaying world, but was morally
   perfectly justifiable. His unevangelical view of the right of capital
   punishment against heretics, belongs less to the sphere of ethics
   proper than to that of civil right.

   In all essential points the ethical systems of the Reformed and of the
   Lutheran churches are in harmony; there is manifest throughout,
   however, a general characterizing difference in the coloring given to
   the otherwise essentially harmonizing forms; this difference we cannot
   here follow into its finer shades; [148] a few of the more general
   traits will suffice. The ethics of the Lutheran church bears
   predominantly an anthropologico-subjective character, that of the
   Reformed a theologico-objective character; the former proceeds from the
   inner life-source of the regenerated heart, and constructs, therefore,
   only hesitatingly an ethical system proper,--as, in some degree,
   superfluous; the latter sets out from the unconditional will of God to
   man, and hence felt much earlier the need of a scientific expression of
   the moral law, objective to the consciousness; the former wears rather
   a Paulino-free stamp, the latter rather an Old Testament stamp; in the
   Reformed church sermons on morals have a much more prominent place than
   in the Lutheran. Lutheran ethics expresses, also in its christology,.
   the transfiguration of the human through indwelling grace, Reformed
   ethics, rather the glorifying of God in and through the elect. With
   both, the goal of morality is the glory of God,--in the Lutheran
   church, however, more through the witness of the salvation-experience
   of the redeemed, in the Reformed, more through the offering of willing
   obedience under the law; in the former predominates rather the
   manifestation of the filial relation, in the latter, rather that of
   submissive service; in the former there is greater freedom in the
   self-determination of the believing subject, even to the danger of
   Antinomianism, in the latter greater rigor of outward discipline,
   incurring danger of Puritanic rigorism and pedantic externality. The
   moral life of the Lutheran church bears, so to speak, a lyric
   character, that of the Reformed a practico-juridical one; hence the
   former expressed itself, naturally enough, in the sublimest soaring of
   church hymnology, the latter crystallized itself into a sharply-defined
   and regular church discipline; in the former predominates the mystical
   heart-element of union with God, in the latter predominates a rational
   contrasting of God and man. In the former all that is natural is
   ethically exalted and taken into the service of the holy; whereas, in
   the latter, the spiritual is exalted bly being divested of the natural.
   The morality of the Lutheran church develops itself rather from the
   fullness of inner life toward knowledge, that of the Reformed rather
   from knowledge toward life-fullness; the former is more immediate,
   natural and unconscious, the latter is more mediate, calculating,
   doctrinary; the former is directed more inwardly, the latter more
   outwardly; the former is more an outgush out of the deep and
   overflowing feeling of love and bliss, the latter, more an intentional
   act of the earnest but calm will,--as also, in the Lutheran view of
   salvation, the attention is fixed more upon the all-embracing love of
   God, and in the Reformed more upon the decrees of the will of God; Mary
   and Martha are types of the respective ethical tendencies. The Lutheran
   Christian does good works because he is certain of his salvation
   through faith; the Reformed does them in order that he may become
   certain of his saving faith, and hence of his election,--good works are
   to him necessary unto salvation, though not its cause. The Lutheran
   needs the law and its discipline, strictly speaking, only in so far as
   he has as yet in himself sinful elements which need to be taken into
   discipline; but to the Reformed, the law is a real and necessary guide
   for the regenerated heart itself. Hence, to the Reformed, the Gospel
   wears essentially also the character of law in the Old Testament sense,
   and the Old Testament law is taken lit6rally as yet binding,--hence the
   rigid observance of the Sabbath and the prohibition of statues and
   pictures. In the Lutheran catechism the ten commandments precede the
   confession of faith; in most of the Reformed churches they stand after
   the same, and constitute, in the French and English service, an
   essential part of the liturgy. This seemingly insignificant
   circumstance is in fact very significant; in the Lutheran view the law
   has essentially the purpose of educating toward the true freedom of the
   children of God, which freedom itself, when once attained to, has no
   longer any need of an outward law; in the Reformed view the law is an
   essential part of the Christian faith-life itself, but an objective,
   purely-divine element still external to the regenerated subject. The
   Lutheran is fearful rather of work-holiness, the Reformed rather of
   non-conformity to the law; the former has the law rather as his inward
   personal property, the latter rather as a categorical imperative
   external to his own subjective will. To the Lutheran, Moses and Christ
   stand in sharp contrast to each other; to the Reformed they are most
   intimately united; "one must live as if there were no Gospel, and die
   as if there were no law," says, very significantly, the Reformed divine
   Baile (Praxis pietatis, 1635). To the Lutheran, Christ is, in ethical
   respects, rather the beloved Saviour, out of love to whom and in
   communion with whom he lives in holiness; to the Reformed he is more
   the moral pattern by which man is constantly learning, and which he
   endeavors to imitate. Hence Lutheran ethics appears predominantly as
   the doctrine of virtue and of goods, Reformed ethics as the doctrine of
   the law. The Lutheran Christian conceives the good essentially as the
   morally-beautiful, and hence he has also appreciation and love for the
   beautiful in general,--gives expression to art, and makes it even a
   moral agency; the Reformed conceives the good essentially as the right,
   and hence he has little taste or love for art as a moral power, but all
   the higher an appreciation for the legally-disciplined development of
   the church and of moral society; to the former the highest virtue is
   believing love; to the latter, righteousness. The moral consciousness
   of the Lutheran conceives the highest good rather as a power directly
   given by grace and reflecting from itself the moral life; the Reformed
   consciousness makes the moral life an essential factor in the obtaining
   of the highest good. Hence, in the ethical sphere, the antithesis of
   the Lutheran doctrine to the Romish is more violent than that of the
   Reformed; hence also the Reformed church, but not the Lutheran,
   developed a theocratical form of the church, and placed in general much
   greater emphasis on the legal and governmental development of the
   purely moral community of the church as in contrast to the state, and
   as a determining power for and over the same, whereas the subjective
   inwardliness of Lutheran Christians manifested little interest for such
   development. Such are the differences which, while they indeed manifest
   a general ethical antithesis of the two forms of doctrine, yet in fact
   constitute only two corresponding and manifoldly-complementing, but not
   mutually-excluding phases of the same unitary evangelical
   consciousness.

   The theological ethics of the evangelical church was treated as a
   separate science, [149] first by the learned Reformed divine Danaeus
   (Daneau, ob. 1596) in his Ethica christiana (1577, '79, '88 and
   1601),--in a rigidly Calvinistic sense, with a large using of
   Augustine, Aristotle, and the Schoolmen, in strong opposition, however,
   sometimes to the two latter sources, resulting in a learned and
   thoughtful work, though as yet somewhat immature. He endeavors
   especially to solve the apparent contradiction between the doctrine of
   predestination and the requirements of the moral consciousness, though
   not with very happy results; the special treatment of duties he bases
   on the Decalogue; in respect to Church-discipline he requires the
   greatest rigor,--for heretics, capital punishment. (In connection with
   this ethics stands his Politica christiana, 1596-1606). The antithesis
   which Danaeus makes between Christian ethics and Aristotelian
   philosophical ethics, was rejected by Keckermann (ob. 1609 in
   Heidelberg), who considered ethics as essentially a philosophical
   science, and Aristotle as its true founder; [150] while the severely
   Puritanical Amesius (in Holland, ob. 1634) emphasized again very
   strongly the distinction of Christian from philosophical ethics,
   placing Christian ethics along-side of dogmatics. [151] (The
   distinguishing of ethics and dogmatics as the two parts of the body of
   Christian doctrine, appears also in the Reformed divine, Polanus of
   Basle.) [152] Walaeus (in Holland, ob. 1639) attempted in his
   compendium of the ethics of Aristotle (1620) to imbue this work with a
   Christian spirit. More important, despite its rather popular style, is
   the peculiar work of the moderate Calvinist Amyraud (Amyraldus, at
   Saumlur, ob. 1664). [153] He distributes ethics historically, into the
   ethics of the pure unfallen state, into that of heathenism, and of
   Judaism and of Christianity; the first part contains the general
   philosophical considerations. The historical treatment of the subject
   gives a just appreciation also of heathen ethics, without intermingling
   Christian ethics therewith.--The ethics of the Reformed church was
   casuistically treated by the Puritan Perkins (of Cambridge, 1611), also
   by the above-mentioned Amesius, and by the German Alsted (1621, 1630),
   who distributed the subject-matter according to the chief heads of the
   Catechism. Also Forbesius à Corse treated the subject in the order of
   the Decalogue, in his learned though quite practically-written work on
   moral theology, considered as the special doctrine of duties. [154]
   Ethics was treated in a popular, edifying manner by La Placette,
   Pictet, Basnage, and by the Englishman Richard Baxter. The scientific
   and purely theological form of Reformed ethics was still further
   developed, in the eighteenth century, by Hoornbeek (1663), by Peter of
   Mastricht (1699), who follows Amesius, by Heidegger (1711), by Lampe
   (1727), and by others. In the middle of the eighteenth century the
   rigid form of Calvinistic ethics begins to give way, and the influence
   of the philosophy of Wolf commences to break down the confessional
   antithesis in the field of morals.

   In the Lutheran church there was at first but little done beyond the
   already-mentioned further developments of the philosophical ethics of
   Melanchthon, with the exception of a single, though not purely
   theological, attempt of the Melanchthonian Hamburger, Von Eitzen: [155]
   theology is so involved in dogmatical controversies as to have in
   general but little inclination toward a scientific development of
   ethics; it treated the weightier and more general questions only
   briefly, in dogmatics, in connection with the doctrines of free-will,
   of sin, of the law, and of sanctification, leaving the more detailed
   treatment of the subject rather for such practical writers as worked
   toward the Christian edification of the masses,--writers who were in
   some respects related to the Mystics, and among whom two deserve
   especial attention. The first of these, John Valentine Andreae, of
   Wurtemberg (ob. 1654), is a very morally-earnest spirit, thoroughly
   dovoted to practical Christianity, of slightly mystical tendencies, of
   thorough scientific culture, and of deep acquaintance with human
   nature. Strongly impressed with the Calvinistic church discipline in
   Geneva, Andreae devoted his unwearying efforts to the bringing about of
   moral discipline also in the German church, though he found a rather
   unreceptive age, and was much deceived in his, at times, somewhat
   idealistic hopes. His numerous moral writings,-- often clothed in
   poetical and especially allegorical forms, and sometimes satirical,
   though always hiding, even in hilarity, a very deep and often
   melancholy earnestness,--are always directed to definite special
   objects, and hence present no connected whole. Holding fast to the
   faith of the church, he yet rebuked indignantly the unfruitful
   hair-splitting spirit of dogmatic controversy, and insisted on the one
   thing needful; at the same time, it is true, he occasionally too
   lightly esteemed man's scientific right to a clear knowledge of the
   contents of faith, as well as the significancy of the doctrinal
   differences between the churches; and, in his desire for a moral
   reformation of the church, he too little considered the importance of
   pure doctrine, and was too indulgent toward many opposers of the
   same.--The second, John Arndt, (ob. 1621), was spiritually kindred to
   Andreae and held him in high esteem; Arndt was an evangelical Thomas à
   Kempis, and combined evangelical fidelity of faith with mystical
   subjectivity and practical zeal for morality, and exerted a
   deep-reaching, beneficent influence on the evangelical churches. His
   work entitled Four Books of True Christianity (at first in
   1605-10)--with the exception of the Imitation of Christ, the most
   widespread of German books of devotion-bears indeed sometimes a rather
   strong mystical coloring (in this respect following somewhat in the
   path of Tauler and of the "German Theology"), and under-estimates, in
   many respects, the significancy of the objective means of grace, and
   lays chief emphasis on the mystical, direct union of the soul with God;
   nevertheless it constituted so essential and so salutary a
   complementing of the somewhat one-sidedly theorizing theological spirit
   of the age, and so powerfully stirred up the partially-dormant moral
   consciousness, that Arndt will always occupy an eminent place in the
   history of morality and of practical ethics, A per se unimportant and
   yet fruitful attempt at a purely theological system of ethics,
   unconnected with dogmatics, was made by George Calixt of Helmstädt; his
   Epitome theologiae moralis (p. I, 1634; 1662,) is only a short,
   incomplete outline, giving in fact only an introduction. The purpose of
   ethics is, to describe the way to blessedness, the life of the already
   spiritually-regenerated Christian; regeneration itself is presupposed;
   the foundation, even of Christian morality, is the ten commandments,
   which are a revealed re-establishment of the original law of nature;
   but the difference of Christian ethics from Old Testament ethics is not
   made prominent enough. In the footsteps of Calixt followed J. C. Dürr
   of Altdorf, who, for the first, gave a tolerably complete and learned
   treatise on ethics; [156] he distinguishes between virtues toward God,
   toward others, and toward ourselves; in regard to theatrical
   spectacles, to jesting, etc., he shows a less rigid severity than the
   ethical writers of the Reformed church; and this difference of view is
   manifest also among the other Lutheran moralists, if we except the
   Pietists. Of the same tendency was also G. T. Meier, of Helmstädt,
   whose erudite and profound introduction to ethics [157] examines, for
   the first time, with critical discrimination the presuppositions of
   this science. (H. Rixner, in a briefer work in 1690.) Aristotle is used
   also in these theological treatises on ethics, without, however,
   damagingly influencing their theological character.

   The ethics of the Lutheran church was treated more frequently
   casuistically than in a systematic form; it bore this character even as
   late as into the eighteenth century, and forms, properly speaking, only
   an amassment of material for a subsequent scientific development. As
   occasioned by the casuistry of the Romish church, the casuistry of the
   evangelical church, in express antithesis thereto, manifests, on the
   basis of Scripture and of spiritual experience, a greater certainty and
   simplicity, and preserves a middle-ground between the sophistical
   laxity of the Jesuitical view and the rigid severity of the
   Calvinistic. Many of these works contain also many dogmatic questions
   together with their decisions. The distribution of the subject-matter
   follows, for the most part, the order of the catechism; the answer is
   given on the basis of the Scriptures, and then confirmed by the
   decisions of the Fathers and of later writers, especially of Luther and
   of the other Reformers. The first work of this kind, after the
   already-mentioned Consilia of Melanchthon, is by Baldwin of Wittenberg,
   [158] and obtained great popularity; it treats chiefly of the. casus
   conscientiae, that is, of such moral questions as the common conscience
   cannot immediately and satisfactorily decide, but in regard to which it
   may fall into doubt, and which consequently can be decided only by a
   careful weighing of the word of God. He classifies these cases
   according to the moral objects: God, angels, the subject himself, and
   other men. (L. Dunte of Reval, gave a thousand and six decisions on
   conscience-questions of a moral and dogmatical character, in 1643.)
   Olearius of Leipzig, who had already previously presented ethics in
   tabular form, examined thoroughly, and with the most minute and
   discriminating exactness, the purpose and the nature of casuistry;
   [159] casuistry was more fully carried out by Dannhauer, [160] by G.
   König, [161] but especially circumstantially by John Adam Osiander,
   [162] who introduces into the subject almost the entire body of
   dogmatics; he classifies the cases in the order of the Decalogue; under
   the sixth commandment, e. g., he proposes the question whether in a
   case of extreme necessity it is allowable to eat human flesh, and, in
   opposition to the Jesuits, negatives it (ii, p. 1367). The work of
   Mengering (superintendent in Halle) Scrutinium conscientiae
   catecheticum, that is, a "Reproving of Sin and Searching of the
   Conscience," etc. (3 ed. 1686, 4to.), more especially intended for
   moral self-examination, is classified minutely and circumstantially
   according to the Decalogue, and is morally earnest and judicious,
   though it presents also a few peculiarities ( e. g., p. 752, as to the
   inadmissibility of tobacco-smoking, then called tobacco-drinking). Only
   in part, belongs in this place the voluminous work: Consilia theologica
   Witebergensia, that is, ("Wittenberg's Spiritual Counsels,"
   etc.--(Frankfort on the Main, 1664)--which contains, in an immense
   folio, judgments of Luther and of his co-laborers, and decisions of the
   Wittenberg faculty on doctrinal points, moral and ecclesiastico-legal
   questions (also matrimonial questions). Of a similar character is the
   Opus novum quaestionum Practico-Theologicum (Frankfort, 1667, fol.),
   which treats, in the order of the common Loci, sixteen hundred and
   sixty-seven questions,--also that of Dedekenn: Thesaurus consiliorum
   theol. et jurid. (1623), revised by John C. Gerhard (Jena, 1671, 4
   vols. fol.).

   Also the theological "Bedenken" of the eighteenth century belong to the
   sphere of this casuistical ethics. Among these works those of Spener
   occupy a peculiar and significant place, and constitute, together with
   his other more or less ethical writings, a turning-point in the
   development of the evangelical moral consciousness. Their significancy
   rests less in their single judgments than in their peculiar
   ground-thoughts. Spener,--who was imbued with the spirit of Thomas à
   Kempis, of Andreae and of Arndt, and in part, even of Tauler, and who
   restlessly labored in the path trod by these men for a moral bettering
   of the Christian church,--called forth by the Pietism which proceeded
   from him, a deep-reaching, beneficent movement in the moral life and in
   the moral views of the evangelical church, although indeed in
   consequence of his one-sided emphasizing of the practical, he treated
   science itself somewhat too lightly, and set too high an estimate on
   certain outward forms of devout morality, and thus needlessly limited
   the legitimate liberty of a regenerated Christian. Spener's Pia
   desideria [163] are directed essentially to an improving of the
   ecclesiastical life, to a stronger emphasizing of holiness in the
   spiritual activity of the church, to a stirring-up of the
   church-membership to churchly spontaneity, to the bringing about of a
   more edifying manner of doctrinal. preaching, and, on the other hand,
   against the misuse of the doctrine of justification by faith. His
   ethical works proper, though only bearing on particular cases,
   especially of the inner life, are found in his Theological
   Considerations, [164] which exercised a wide-reaching and wholesome
   influence on the church.--Spener insisted with much more earnestness on
   the significancy of spiritual regeneration for the moral life than did
   the orthodoxy of the day, in its one-sided emphasizing of theoretical
   faith. The man of the Holy Spirit has nothing in common with the sinful
   world and its lusts; his total life-stream flows from a new and
   absolutely. holy fountain; worldly pleasure is foreign and uncongenial
   to him, and therefore to be avoided. The morality of the Pietists was
   distinguished primarily by an especial rigor in regard to the sphere of
   the allowed, inasmuch as it viewed as absolutely unallowable many
   worldly enjoyments which in the Evangelical Lutheran church had, thus
   far, been regarded (too unsuspiciously, it is true) as adiaphora, and
   consequently as not strictly unallowable, especially such as dancing,
   card-playing, theater-visiting, banqueting, gayness of dress, and the
   like; it denied altogether that there are any morally indifferent
   things; whatever is not done to the glory of God, and springs not of
   faith, is sin; and these amusements cannot consist with a pious frame
   of the heart,--cannot take place in faith, and to the glory of God.
   This is, however, only an outer manifestation of a very deep-reaching
   antithesis of Pietism to the hitherto prevalent views of the Lutheran
   church. The high evangelical thought of Gospel-freedom and of
   justification by faith alone, had in fact, in the time of the declining
   church-life, led, in many respects, to erroneous courses, and had often
   allowed the moral earnestness of holiness to give place to mere formal
   orthodoxy, and also sometimes occasioned, in contrast to the severe
   earnestness of the discipline of the Reformed church, too. careless a
   regard for the outward forms of the moral life, and had enlarged beyond
   measure the sphere of morally-indifferent things. The notion had
   obtained for itself vogue, that whatever is not forbidden in Scripture
   is allowable. It was the reaction of a truly Christian conscience,
   which caused Pietism to discard this somewhat presuming maxim, and, in
   any case, the thought which it opposed thereto was strictly legitimate,
   namely, that there is nothing indifferent in the entire life-sphere of
   a regenerated person, but that every thing without exception must stand
   in living relation to the new spiritual life-principle, and that
   whatever does not admit of a true association. with the same is not
   simply indifferent, but is un-Christian. Pietism may have made many
   mistakes in the application of this thought, but the thought itself
   had, as in contrast to the one-sided orthodoxy then prevalent, its own
   good right. Furthermore, Spener brought again into the fore-ground the
   thought which, while indeed dogmatically admitted, had yet never been
   sufficiently emphasized morally, namely, that faith without works is
   dead; the sanctification of the heart and life does not simply follow
   upon, and stand in connection with, true faith, but is in such faith
   already itself directly contained; there are not two spiritual
   life-streams, but only one; the moral personality itself as justified
   by faith admits of no falling apart of faith and morality; all
   religious life is immediately and necessarily at the same time
   moral,--is not simply followed by the moral as a second collateral
   element. In the eyes of declining orthodoxy, religion had become too
   much a mere objective something by which the religious subject is
   simply embraced and influenced, but not thoroughly permeated; Pietism
   brought religion and its divine spirit-principle again entirely within
   the Christian subject, and caused the subject, as now transformed, to
   create a new Spirit-witnessing, objective morality. The Christian
   conscience is quickened and made more vigorously active by Pietism; the
   views thus far prevalent in the Lutheran church are, in the eyes of
   Pietism, not strictly conscientious, seeing that they tolerate many
   manners of action which do not flow from the Christian conscience, and
   are not consistent with it.--The morality of Pietism is by no means of
   a predominantly outwardly-active working character,--is in fact very
   different from the more recent activity of the "inner mission," but is
   predominantly subjective,--is one-sidedly directed toward the
   morally-pious heart-condition of the subject, and sustains to the outer
   world rather a rejecting, negating and uninterested relation; the
   ascetic tendency which constantly grew more prominent, especially among
   Spener's followers, rose even to a manifest preference of celibacy to
   marriage, and to an avoidance of political offices (in the spirit of
   Tertullian), and to a refusing of military service. When its orthodox
   opponents reproached Pietism with an unevangelical seeking of
   sanctification by works, with a tendency to the monkish spirit and the
   like, they did not do it full justice; and it was in vain that they
   undertook to check the historically-justified movement, and,
   notwithstanding all their hostile exaggerations, they saw very clearly
   the questionable narrownesses of the movement they opposed--more
   clearly than they saw their own; and it is not exclusively through
   Pietism, but also in virtue of the opposition which it awoke, that the
   religiously-moral consciousness of the church was stimulated to a
   higher life.--The Pietistic tendency proper, because of its
   disinclination to abstract science, produced no ethical works of
   importance; most important are: Breithaupt: Theol. moralis (1732, 4to.;
   Institt theol., 3 parts, 1716), and the moral parts of Joachin Lange's
   Oeconomia salutis (1728.) But the popular Pietistic works, written for
   the masses of the church, were more influential.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [143] In Ethica Arist. comment., 1529, treating only the 1st and 2d
   books; in 1532 were added the 3d and 5th; re-written in 1545 as
   Enarratio aliquot librorum Eth. Ar., etc.,--in the Corpus Reformatorum
   of Bretschneider and Bindseil, t. xvi, p. 277-416.--Comment. in aliquot
   politicos libros Aristot., 1530, in Corp. Ref., ib., p. 417 sqq.

   [144] Corp. Ref., xvi, pp. 21-164. The following editions, 1539, '40,
   are largely changed; three later ones, 1542-'46, are like that of 1540.

   [145] Corp. Ref., xvi, pp. 165-276; not printed in the earlier Opp.

   [146] De conjugio; quaestiones aliquot ethicae, de juramentis, etc.,
   1552; in Corp. Ref., xvi, 453 sqq. Consilia s. judicia theol., ed.
   Pezellii. 1660.

   [147] J. C. E. Schwarz in Stud. u. Krit., 1853; Pelt., ib., 1848.

   [148] Comp. Schneckenburger: Vegleichende Darstellung des luth. u. ref.
   Lehrbegriffs, 1855; Tholuck: Das kirchl. Leben des 17 Jahrh., i, 199
   sqq., 218 sqq., 301 sqq.; ii, 140 sqq., 239 sqq.

   [149] On the history of the earlier Reformed ethics, see Schweizer in
   Stud. u. Krit., 1850.

   [150] Systema ethicae in his Opp., 1614.

   [151] Medulla theologiae, 1630, and frequently, a brief compendium; De
   conscientiae et ej. jure vel casibus, 1630, and
   subsequently,--casuistical.

   [152] Syntagma theol., 1610.

   [153] La morale chrestienne, 1652 sqq., 6 t.,--rare in Germany; see
   Stäudlin iv, 404 sqq.; Schweizer in Stud. u. Krit., 1683.

   [154] Opp., Amst., 1703.

   [155] Comp. Pelt in Stud. u. Krit., 1848.

   [156] Enchiridion theol. mor., 1662; later as: Compend., 1675-98 4to.

   [157] Introd. in univ. theol. mor. studium, 1671. And as the beginning
   of a development of ethics itself: Disputt. theol., 1679.

   [158] Tactatus luculentus, etc., 1628, '35, and later.

   [159] Introd. brevis in theol. casuisticam, 1694.

   [160] Liber conscientiae, 2 ed. 1679, 2 t., and Theologia casualis,
   1706.

   [161] Casus consc., Altdorf, 1676, 4to.

   [162] Theol. casualis, 1680, 6 t., 4to.

   [163] Appearing first in 1675 as a preface to Arndt's Postille,
   afterward separately,--often printed.

   [164] Theologische Bedenken, 1700, 1712, 4 vols.; Letzte theol.
   Bedenken, 1711, 3 vols.; Consilia et judicia theol., 1709, 3 vols., and
   many other smaller works.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXVIII.

   The ethics of the Roman Catholic church, after the Reformation, was
   treated for the most part as a constantly increasing and more
   minute-growing body of casuistry. The highest development of the same,
   and at the same time the greatest perversion of Christian ethics, also
   in regard to its moral contents, appeared in the semi-Pelagianizing
   ethics of the Jesuits. The place of the unconditional validity of the
   moral idea is here largely usurped by outward adaptability to the weal
   of the visible church, as the highest end; the place of the unshaken
   authority of the Scriptures and of early Christian tradition, by the
   authority of certain special Doctors; the place of moral conviction, by
   probabilism; the place of moral honesty, by a sophistical construing of
   the moral law to the present fortuitous advantage of the church and of
   the individual, and by the falsehood of reservationes mentales; and the
   place of the moral conscience, by rational and cunning calculation;
   thus the essence of the moral law becomes entirely unsettled; and the
   practical application of moral principles, an unserious exercise of
   sophistry.

   At first thought we are surprised at the exceeding fruitfulness of the
   Romish theology of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in ethical
   writings, in comparison with which the evangelical church, and
   especially the Lutheran, is very barren. Opposition to the
   faith-principle of the Evangelical church, led the Romish church to an
   especial development of the practical phase of religion, as in fact, in
   the order of the Jesuits, a vigor of activity hitherto unknown in the
   Romish church makes at this time its appearance; and precisely this
   order was the chief representative of Romish ethics.--The more purely
   scientific form of ethics lingered in general strictly within the
   limits of the scholastico-Aristotelian rut. Francis Piccolomini, a
   much-lauded Aristotelian, in Italy (ob. 1604) produced a comprehensive
   and discursive moral philosophy [165] based on Aristotle and Plato; but
   his writings do not give proof of any independence, and fail to satisfy
   the Christian consciousness.

   The Order of the Jesuits, as calculated in its very nature for action,
   for the championship of the endangered Romish church, was called by its
   fundamental principle to the development of a special system of
   morality,--a system the highest end of which is the glory of God
   through the exaltation of the visible church. The majority of the
   Jesuitical presentations of ethics treat, for the most part, only of
   the more or less classified circle of single cases, while the more rare
   systematic works follow very closely the traditions of scholasticism.
   [166] --Very soon after the Reformation the Jesuits appeared in the
   field of ethics; we will mention only the more important. Among the
   Spaniards were: Francis Tolet (a cardinal, ob. 1596, Summa casuum
   conscientiae, often printed); Azorio (Institutiosnes morales, 1600,
   3t.; 1625, 2t.); Vasquez (Opusc. mor.; 1617); Henriquez (Summa, 1613
   fol.); Thomas Sanchez, whose learned work, De matrimonio, [167] was
   highly esteemed, (but which, in the invention and discussion of
   indelicate questions, transgresses the bounds of all propriety), and
   who by his sweeping doctrine of probabilism deeply unsettles the
   foundations of all morality; (of him are further: Opus morale s. Summa
   casuum, Col. 1614, 2t.; Consilia s. opuscula mor., Lugd. 1635, 2 fol.);
   Francis Suarez, in numerous very ingenious works; Alphonso Rodriguez
   (Exercitium perfectionis, etc., 1641); Antonio de Escobar, one of the
   most important of the casuists (Liber theol. moral., etc., Ludg., 1646;
   Universae theol. moral. problemata, Ludg., 1663, 7 fol.); and Gonzales
   (Fundamentum theol. moralis., 1694, 4to.) Among the Italians were:
   Tamburini, and Filliucci (Moral. quaest., 1622, 2 fol.) Among the
   French: Bauny, and Raynauld. Among the Germans: Layman (Theol. mor.,
   1625, 3 4to.); Busenbaum, of Munster, whose Medulla casuum consc. has
   had, since 1645, more than fifty editions, [168] --an able, clear,
   compact manual in tolerably systematic order, and authoritative almost
   throughout the whole Order, although in many respects assailed, even by
   popes, and in some countries proscribed. Among the Netherlanders:
   Leonard Less (in several works), and Besser (De conscientia, 1638,
   4to.) The contents and manner of treatment of most of these works are
   very similar.

   The peculiar character of Jesuitical ethics rests on the fundamental
   purpose of the order as a whole, namely, the rescuing of the Church,
   the bride of Christ, as endangered by the Reformation in its very
   foundations, and hence the rescuing of the honor of God from a most
   pressing danger. In a struggle of life and death one is not very
   careful in the choice of means, and in all warfare the sentiment holds
   good, though involving manifold violations of ordinary right, that the
   end sanctifies the means. The rescuing of the Romish church at any
   price is the task, even should it involve an entering into alliance
   with the dark powers of this sinful world, and with the passions and
   sinful proclivities of the unsanctified multitude. The one exclusively
   aimed-at end makes use of the systematized totality of moral ends as
   mere means, and the morally-contracted view taken of this one end leads
   naturally and of itself to morally unallowable means. The real, visible
   church is not measured by the idea of the true or ideal church, but all
   moral ideas are measured by the visible church. The Jesuits were well
   aware that they were an essentially new phenomenon of the churchly
   life,--that they stood upon purely human invention and power; we need
   not be surprised therefore to find that in their moral system human
   invention and human authority stand in the foreground. The expressed
   opinion of a church doctor forms a sufficient basis for a legitimate
   moral decision. The eternal and objective foundations of the moral are
   exchanged for the subjective view of individual persons of eminence.
   The contradictions thereby resulting render the single subject all the
   less trammeled,--enable him to follow the decision which he most
   prefers. Another of their peculiarities is their discipline; the
   required unconditional obedience to the commands of superiors takes the
   place of the personal conscience, and paralyzes its power; it becomes a
   duty of the members of the order to have no personal conscience
   whatever, and to subordinate the individual conscience unconditionally
   and blindly to the general conscience of the order; a collective
   conscience, however, is a poor one, and poorest of all when it is
   represented by one single person. Thus the Jesuit accustoms himself
   from the very start, blindly to follow the authority of a single
   eminent man, and Probabilism is, in his moral theory, an inevitable
   matter of course.

   This, then, is the distinguishing characteristic of Jesuitical
   ethics,--that in the place of the eternal objective ground and
   criterion of the moral, it substitutes subjective opinion, and in the
   place of an unconditional eternal end, a merely conditionally valid
   one, namely, the defending of the actual, visible church against all
   forms of opposition,--that in the place of the moral conscience, it
   substitutes the human calculating of circumstantial and fortuitous
   adaptation to the promotion of this its highest end,--that it attempts
   to realize that which is per se and absolutely valid by a wide-reaching
   isolating of the means, but in so doing subordinates morality to the
   discretion of the single subject.--While the ethics of the Jesuits
   appears as lax and quite too indulgent toward worldly, sinful
   proclivities and fashions, yet this is only one phase of the matter. A
   merely worldly-lax moral system, in the usual sense, seems but little
   applicable to the members of a brotherhood the first rule of which is a
   perfect renunciation of personal will and personal opinion and
   self-determination, in a word, unconditional obedience to every command
   of superiors, and which has actually accomplished in the missionary
   field the grandest of deeds, and numbers, among its members, multitudes
   of heroic martyrs. This lack of strictness in one direction rests by no
   means on mere worldliness, on pleasure in the delights of this life,
   but follows, on the one hand, of necessity (as well as does also the
   rigor of obedience) from the subjectively-arbitrary presupposition of
   the entire order, from the lack of an objective, unshaken foundation,
   and rests, on the other hand, strictly on calculation,--is itself a
   cunningly-devised means to the end,--is intended to awaken, especially
   in the great and mighty of the earth (and the masses of the people are
   such under some circumstances), a love to the church, to the mild,
   friendly, indulgent mother; and these concessions to the world formed a
   contrast to the severer moral views of the evangelical church, and
   especially to the over-rigid discipline of the Reformed church; and the
   contrast was tempting.--The purpose--zealously pursued by the Jesuits
   in the interest of Romish domination--of becoming soul-guarding fathers
   and conscience-counselors, especially for men and women of eminence,
   required, on the one hand, that the Jesuits themselves should acquire
   for themselves the highest possible repute in ethics,--and hence it was
   requisite that they should become the literary representatives
   thereof,--and, on the other, that this ethics should be molded in
   adaptation to this end,--should make itself not disagreeable and
   burdensome, but should become as elastic as possible in view of
   different wants,--should be a "golden net for catching souls," as the
   Jesuits themselves were wont to call their own pliableness. The more
   ramified and complex the net-work of casuistic ethics became, so much
   the more indispensable were the practiced conscience-counselors, or
   more properly, conscience-advocates; the more stairways and back doors
   they were able to turn attention to in conscience affairs, so much the
   more prized and influential they became. This explains the great
   compass and the peculiar character of Jesuitical ethics. The becoming
   accustomed to slippery and precipitous ways, and the pleasure in the
   ready-finding of sophistical authority for morally novel positions, led
   of itself unconsciously into still deeper error. "Accommodation" was
   the magic word which opened the way for a surprisingly-rich storehouse
   of moral rules. Confession, where made to Jesuits, lost much of its
   seriousness, and nowhere else was absolution so easily obtainable for
   those who were to be won over, nowhere penance and satisfaction so
   readily done with,--and this not merely in fact, but also from
   principle. Penance is to be chosen as light as possible; the confessor
   may impose as penance, on the confessing one, the good or evil which
   h1e can do or suffer on the same day or in the same week; the penance
   may, when there exists a sufficient reason, be even performed for one
   person by another, etc. [169] Also in most cases it is not a very
   serious matter even if the absolved one neglects entirely the imposed
   penance.

   The development of Jesuitical ethics is by no means a phenomenon
   essentially new; the bases therefor were already long extant; it is
   only a further building upon the same foundations. The Pelagianizing
   view of the moral ability of the human will and of the meritoriousness
   of outward works lay already at the basis of the entire system of
   monkish holiness, and the Jesuits went only one step further when they,
   in contradiction to Thomas Aquinas, taught often almost entirely as
   Pelagius. The earlier casuistry in its lack of fixed principles had
   already shaken the moral foundation; and the too great indulgence in
   sophistry on particular, and, in part, entirely imaginary, cases, had
   beclouded the unsophisticated moral consciousness; the doctrine of
   probabilism had been already sanctioned at Constance, and in many
   respects practically applied. The entanglement of the church with the
   then so manifoldly-complicated state of European politics, with worldly
   passions and rancors, and its very worldly struggles against the
   worldly state, had already long since undermined the purity of the
   ecclesiastical conscience, and the maxim, that the end sanctifies the
   means, had already been long practiced and approved by the church
   before it was, by the Jesuits (if not sanctioned in express words, yet
   in fact on the largest scale) put into practice; the per se not
   incorrect distinguishing of venial from mortal sins offered easy
   opportunity of indefinitely enlarging the sphere of the former by a
   limitation or a ready transforming of the sphere of the latter, while
   at the same time the ever-growing readiness in granting indulgences was
   making the sphere even of mortal sins of a less terrifying character,
   especially for those at whose command stood the keys to the
   treasure-chambers of indulgence; and in fact it was these especially,
   namely, the rich and noble, who enjoyed the advantages of the
   generosity of Jesuitic ethics. Jesuitic ethics did not indeed harmonize
   with the moral consciousness of the ancient church; its representatives
   were also well aware of this, and they hesitated not to admit that they
   did not recognize ancient church tradition as a criterion for morality,
   but wished rather to lay the foundations for a new tradition.

   The chief means used for the purpose of lightening moral duty was the
   so-called moral probabilism, namely, the principle that in
   morally-doubtful cases the authority of a few eminent church-teachers,
   or also even of a single one (if he is a doctor gravis et probus),
   suffices to furnish a sententia probabilis as to a moral course of
   action, and hence to justify the performing of it, even if the opinion
   followed were per se false; nay, according to some, even if this
   teacher himself had declared it as only morally possible, without
   really approving of it. Hence, as soon as I can hunt up for an action
   which seems to me of doubtful propriety, or even positively wrong, a
   consenting opinion of an ecclesiastical authority (and of course it is
   best if I find it among the Jesuit doctors themselves), then am I
   perfectly screened by the same; [170] in which connection it is to be
   taken into account that there is scarcely any one moral question which
   is not answered by different doctors in an entirely contrary sense.
   That thus the most opposite manners of action may be equally readily
   justified, the Jesuits knew very well; and Escobar even found, in the
   actual variety of views as to the moral, an amazing trace of Divine
   Providence, inasmuch as thereby the yoke of Christ is in so agreeable a
   manner rendered easy. [171] Although probabilism was not so
   immoderately extended by all the Jesuits, nevertheless it was the
   decidedly dominant teaching; and when the general of the order,
   Gonzales, in 1694, disapproved of it, many were minded to regard him as
   thereby deposed because of heresy, and only the protection of the Pope
   saved him. [172]

   Probabilism is not a merely fortuitously discovered expedient, but it
   is in fact an almost inevitable consequence of the historical essence
   of Jesuitism. As the order itself arose neither on the basis of
   Scripture nor of ancient church-tradition, but sprang absolutely from
   the daring inventive power of a single man breaking through the limits
   of ecclesiastical actuality, hence it is not at all unnatural that it
   should make the authority of a single spiritually preeminent man its
   highest determining power, and subordinate to this the historical,
   objective form of the moral consciousness. When the learned moralists
   came to be regarded as the determining authority in morals, then the
   Jesuits were the masters of the world, for they were themselves the
   most excellent doctors. Though they absolved the inquirer from so many
   burdensome chains of commanding duty, though they led him in the
   selection between opposed authorities to a subjective discretion of
   decision, yet at least this point was reached, that he recognized the
   Jesuit priests as his liberating masters. The doctrine of probabilism
   can by no means be explained as a simple sequence of the Romish
   tradition-principle; for here the deciding element is not the authority
   of the church, but simply individual teachers and in fact not, the
   majority of authorities, but it is expressly permitted to follow [173]
   the lesser authority in face of the greater, and to select among
   several authorities the one which best pleases, even if it be the less
   probable one. [174] Hence also the father-confessor is not at liberty,
   as against the probable opinions of those who confess to him, to appeal
   to other and higher authorities, but he must admit the former even
   should he hold them for entirely false, [175] and a doctor, when asked
   for moral advice needs not to impart the same exclusively according to
   his own judgment, but may also suggest the judgment of another though
   contradictory to his own, in case it is more favorable to, or more
   desired by, the inquirer (si forte haec illi favorabilior seu
   exoptatior sit); hence he may give to different persons a directly
   contrary answer to the same question, "only he must in this matter use
   discretion and prudence." [176] Many go so far as to maintain that I
   not only need not follow the opinion most probable to me, but that I
   may even follow that one of which I hold only that it is probable that
   it may be probable (Tamburini).--But how is the doctrine of probability
   to be reconciled with the Catholic doctrine that the assent of the
   church is necessary in order that any course of action may be
   ecclesiastically valid? Bauny gives the answer: All that doctors teach
   in printed books has, in fact, the assent and approval of the church,
   provided that the church has not expressly declared it as invalid.

   Though probabilism per se, as a mere formal principle, endangers
   morality in a high degree, substituting in the place of the moral
   conscience individual and arbitrary authority, and rocking the soul
   into false security, still it were possible that the danger of this
   principle should not actually realize itself, in that it might be
   presupposed that the theological authorities would, in all essential
   moral thoughts, harmonize with each other and with the Scriptures, and
   would show some difference only in regard to more external, unimportant
   questions. In this case the erroneousness of the formal principle would
   in some measure be remedied by the correctness of the material
   contents. The question rises therefore: What do the doctors who are
   presented as moral oracles, positively teach as to the moral?

   One would be largely deceived were one to expect to find in the moral
   writings in question merely the loose world-morality of moral
   indifference, selfishness, and pleasure-seeking; on the contrary, they
   often present anxiously, minute and strict prescriptions, especially in
   churchly relations, so that the evangelical liberty of a Christian man
   would feel itself thereby in many respects largely cramped. One must
   here distinguish, however, between the ordinary popular morality--as it
   were, for home use, and indeed also for show--and the higher morality
   which relates to the fundamental purposes of the Jesuit order, that is,
   to the furtherance of the Romish church, and which is chiefly practiced
   by the great, in church and state, and hence also by the Jesuits
   themselves.--To the semi-Pelagianizing explaining-away of the sinful
   corruption of human nature, corresponds, on the other hand, a lowering
   of the moral requirements made of man; for the natural man, downy
   cushions are spread. We are not obligated to love God throughout our
   whole life, in the full sense of the word, nor even every five years,
   but more especially only toward the close of life. [177] In fact, the
   French Jesuit Sirmond denies the obligation of love to God on the
   whole; it is sufficient if we fulfill the other commandments and do not
   hate God; [178] and he found in his Order warm concurrence. So also is
   the love of neighbor, and especially of enemies, lowered to a degree
   corresponding to anti-Christian, heathen ways of thinking. And even the
   duties of children are placed lower than is the case among the Chinese.
   The fourth commandment is fulfilled by the fact that one shows due
   honor to his parents, though without loving them; for love is not
   required in the commandment. To be ashamed of one's parents, to banish
   them from one's presence, to treat them as strangers and the like, is
   not a severe sin; but, on the contrary, it is allowable for the son to
   accuse his father of heresy before the Inquisition (Busenbaum), and
   according to a majority of the Jesuits, as also in the opinion of
   Diana, he is obligated thereto; and the same holds true of brothers and
   sisters, and of consorts. [179] Some of them declare it even as
   allowable that a son should wish his father's death, or should rejoice
   at the occurrence of his death, because he has now the happiness of
   coming into his inheritance (Tamburini, Vasquez), or that a mother
   should wish the death of her daughter, in case the latter is ugly
   (Azorius). Malignant revenge is indeed forbidden, but not the taking
   revenge in vindication of one's honor.

   In respect to moral imputation and condemnation, most of the teachers
   make--in view of rendering moral desert easy--the remarkable
   distinction, that the action answering to the divine law is good and
   meritorious as such, without it being requisite thereto that the
   intention should be good; and that, on the contrary, sin exists only
   where there is really an intention of sinning. Hence if the intention
   is a good one, that is, promotive of the weal of the church, then the
   act which serves to its carrying-out cannot be sinful; and there can be
   a mortal sin only where the person in the moment of the act had the
   definite intention of doing evil, and a perfect knowledge of the same.
   But passion and evil habit becloud one's knowledge and hence render the
   sin venial, as does also weighty evil example; [180] and a probable
   opinion entirely excuses even a mortal sin. In an unimportant matter
   even the transgression of a divine law is not a mortal sin. Ignorance
   of the law excuses the mortal sin; and inveterate ignorance, the
   father-confessor may overlook in silence. Repentance over a committed
   sin is indeed necessary to the forgiveness of the same, but a very
   slight degree of repentance suffices, or even a desire to have
   repentance, or the fear of eternal punishment; and, in case of repeated
   sins, it is enough to feel repentance for only one of them, provided
   that all are confessed; nay, it even suffices that I should feel
   pained, not because of the sin, but because of its bad consequences, e.
   g., disease, dishonor; [181] it is therefore not to be wondered at when
   some of the doctors assert, in contradiction to others, that it is
   sufficient in order to the obtaining of absolution that we feel a
   regret at our lack of repentance (Sa, Navarra). An actual bettering of
   one's life needs not to follow immediately upon repentance, as in fact
   the habit of sinning renders the sin itself venial. Venial sins (and in
   the eyes of the Jesuits this field is uncommonly large) need not to be
   confessed, and it is not even necessary, in connection with the
   sacrament of penance, to repent of them, and to form a resolution to
   avoid them.

   Not undeserved is the notoriety of the chapters in Jesuitical ethics on
   falsehood, on the sexual sin, and on murder. One may intentionally use
   ambiguous words in one sense though knowing that the hearer understands
   him otherwise; and one may for a legitimate end, e. g., for
   self-defense, or to protect one's family, or to practice a virtue,
   utter words, which, as uttered, are entirely false, and which express
   the true sense (which may be the opposite to the sense really
   expressed) only through mental additions restrictio s. reservatio
   mentalis); of such cases the moralists abound in remarkable
   illustrations; [182] e. g., when some one wishes to borrow something of
   me which I do not like to let him have, I am at liberty to say, "I have
   it not," namely, by adding mentally, "in order to give it to thee;" if
   some one asks of me something which I do not wish to tell, I am at
   liberty to answer, "I know it not," namely, as obligated to communicate
   it; if I am asked as to a crime of which I am the sole witness, I am at
   liberty to say, "I know it not," mentally adding, "as a thing publicly
   known;" if I have hidden away a quantity of provision of which I have
   need, then I may swear before the court, "I have nothing," mentally
   adding, "which I am bound to disclose." A priest threatened with death
   may, without real intentio, that is, merely in appearance, pronounce
   absolution, administer sacraments, etc. An adulterous wife, when
   questioned by her husband, may swear that she did not commit adultery,
   adding mentally: "on this or that day," or "in order to reveal it to
   thee." He who comes from a scene of pestilence, but is convinced that
   he is not infected, may swear that he does not come from such a place.
   When a poor debtor is pressed by a hard creditor, he may swear before
   the court that he owes nothing to the other, in that he adds mentally,
   "in order to pay it right away." I may deny, before the court, every
   trespass or crime which has any manner of excuse, namely, by adding
   mentally, "as a crime." Is, qui ex necessitate vel aliqua utilitate
   offert se ad jurandum nemine petente, potest uti amphibologiis, nam
   habet justam causam iis utendi (Sanchez, Diana). In general, all such
   untruths are allowed EX JUSTA CAUSA, namely, quando id necessario est,
   vel utile ad salutem corporis, honoris aut rerum familiarum, or when an
   improper question is addressed to us; on the contrary, to swear falsely
   without a good reason is a mortal sin (Diana); this is--though not in
   express words yet certainly in sense--the maxim which is disavowed by
   the more recent Jesuits, namely, that the end sanctifies the means. A
   promise obligates to its fulfillment only when one actually had, at the
   time of promising, the intention of fulfilling it. [183] Hence an oath
   is binding only when one meant it earnestly; otherwise it is to be
   regarded as a mere blame-worthy indeed, though not obligating, piece of
   trifling (Sanchez, Busenbaum, Escobar, Less, Diana), and it obligates
   only in the sense in which, by mental reservations, it was intended,
   and not in that in which, by its form of expression, it would have to
   be understood by the other; and knowingly to mislead any one into a
   false oath, who, however, acts in good faith, is no sin, since in fact
   he who unknowingly swears falsely does no evil thereby; [184] to swear
   falsely from bad habit, is only a venial sin. If any one swears that he
   will never drink wine, then he seriously sins only when he drinks much,
   but not when he drinks but little (Escobar). He who swears before a
   court that he will tell all that he knows, is not bound to tell that
   which he alone knows (Less). [185]

   The sexual relations are discussed by the Jesuits in a so
   immorally-detailed circumstantiality that the laxity of moral judgment
   (elsewhere without parallel) is rendered thereby all the more
   pernicious and condemnable. [186] A maiden who has committed unchastity
   for the first time is not required, even when she is, as yet, under the
   oversight of her parents, to give, in making her confession, this
   circumstance, namely, that it is the first and hence more serious case,
   for the freely consenting virgin does a wrong neither to herself nor to
   her parents, inasmuch as she has discretionary power over her virginal
   purity. (Quum sit domina sua integritatis virginalis). [187] For all
   possible kinds of unchastity, apologies and excuses are invented; [188]
   and Tamburini even fixes with great exactness the taxes for public
   women. Tile discussions of the moralists on these subjects are, in many
   respects, of so indelicate a character, that the judgment of the
   Episcopal censor, printed in the work of Sanchez, (t. 2.), namely,
   summa voluptate perlegi, sounds almost too naïve.--Under the head of
   murder, the Jesuits had the task of accommodating themselves to the
   then prevalent moral notions of the South-European nations, and the
   result of their labors was an ingeniously constructed code of murder.
   [189] The murdering of a person, even of an innocent one, may under
   circumstances be allowable, not indeed simply in case of self-defense,
   but also in other cases,--for example, in case of severe insult,
   inasmuch as the insulted one would otherwise pass as dishonored; and
   even when the insulted one is a monk or priest, he may, according to
   some authorities, kill his opposer (Escobar i, c. 3, Less, and others);
   and several Jesuits directly maintained that any one, even a priest or
   monk, is entitled to anticipate an intended slander or false accusation
   by secret murder; for this would not amount to murder, but simply to
   self-defense; [190] and this was expressly applied to the case where a
   monk should have reason to fear the disclosures of his mistress. When a
   knight, in fleeing from the enemy, cannot otherwise rescue himself than
   by riding over an infant child or a beggar, then is the killing of
   these innocent persons allowable, save only in case that the child is
   not as yet baptized (Escobar, c. 3, 52),--which would apparently be
   rather difficult for the knight to know. Killing in self-defense is
   allowable even where the self-defender is caught in a crime, and that,
   too, where the killing is beforehand intended, e. g., when he who is
   caught in adultery kills the injured husband (Escobar i, 7, c. 2, 5,
   13; 3, 35; i, 8, n. 61). A woman may stiletto her husband when she
   knows definitely that this same fate threatens her from him, and when
   she knows no other escape (Less). He who has secretly committed
   adultery may kill the single witness thereof who is on the point of
   accusing him, for this witness is not under obligation to make this
   accusation; however, adds the Jesuit, civil law has unfortunately not
   assented to this probable opinion (Escobar i, 7, n. 39). He who without
   his own fault is required to accept, or to challenge to, a duel, does
   wisely to put his opponent out of the way by secret murder, for thereby
   he protects himself from the assault, and his opponent from a serious
   sin. [191] Escobar is unwilling to see him who murders his enemy
   secretly shut out, just like a common murderer, from the right of
   asylum (6, 4, n. 26). According to some teachers--the majority,
   however, think otherwise--a pregnant maiden may procure an abortion in
   order to escape the shame. [192] According to Azor, a physician may
   administer a less certainly effectual medicine although he has with him
   a more certain one, and even when it is more probable that the less
   effectual one may do harm; for he has after all some probability on his
   side. [193] Tamburini justifies the castration of singers for the
   service of the church. The doctrine--notorious in church-history--of
   the justifiableness of tyrant-murder, we need only mention in passing,
   as well as also the almost demagogic doctrine of the merely-relatively
   valid and purely human right of princes, and of the right to disobey
   law on the part of the people, as being themselves sovereign. [194] In
   this political respect is especially notorious the work of the Spanish
   Jesuit, Mariana, (De rege. 1598, 1605), according to which, a king who
   oppresses religion or violates the laws of the state may be killed by
   any of his subjects, openly or by poison; the murderer, even if his
   attempt fails, renders himself meritorious in the eyes of God and man,
   and wins immortal renown (comp. the view of John of Salisbury, § 34).
   It is chiefly these revolutionary doctrines that brought the order to
   its fall; with its other moral views the secular world could have put
   up with much better grace.

   The maxims of the Jesuits disseminated themselves like an infectious
   disease far beyond the circle of their own Order, as is shown by the
   comprehensive works of the already mentioned Sicilian, Antony Diana
   (clericus regularis), [195] who taught, under the express approbatio of
   his ecclesiastical superiors, and also of the Jesuits, the doctrine of
   probabilism in its worst forms. One may act according to a probable
   opinion and disregard the more probable one; man is not under
   obligation to follow the more perfect and the more certain, but it
   suffices to follow simply the certain and perfect; it would be an
   unendurable burden were one required to hunt out the more probable
   opinions; [196] the most of the Jesuits taught the same thing. In
   relation to murder, he teaches like Escobar; I am at liberty to kill
   even him who assails my honor, if my honor cannot otherwise be rescued.
   [197] When some one has resolved upon a great sin, then one is at
   liberty to recommend to him a lesser one, because such advice does not
   relate absolutely to an evil, but to a good, namely, the avoiding of
   the worse; for example, if I cannot otherwise dissuade a person from an
   intended adultery than recommending to him fornication instead thereof,
   then it is allowable to recommend this to him, not, however, in so far
   as it is a sin, but in so far as it prevents the sin of adultery; Diana
   appeals in this connection to many like-judging Jesuit doctors. [198]
   If a priest commissions Peter to kill Caius, who is weaker than Peter,
   but nevertheless Peter comes out second best and gets killed himself,
   still the priest incurs no guilt, and may continue in the
   administration of his office. [199] He who resolves upon committing all
   possible venial sins, does not thereby involve himself in any mortal
   sin [200] He who ex aliqua justa causa rents a house to another for
   purposes of prostitution, commits no sin. [201] To eat human flesh, in
   case of necessity, he holds with the majority of the Jesuits, as
   allowable. [202] He who in virtue of a promise of marriage induces a
   maiden to yield to him, is not bound by his promise, in case he is of
   higher rank or richer than she, or in case he can persuade himself that
   she will not take his promise in serious earnest. [203] Marriage
   between brother and sister can be made legitimate by Papal
   dispensation. [204] -- In such moral perversity of view Diana seems
   only to have been surpassed by the Spanish Netherlander Cistercian,
   Lobkowitz, [205] who, in his skepticism, entirely breaks down the moral
   consciousness, and declares that nothing is evil per se, but only
   because it is positively forbidden; hence God can dispense even from
   all the commandments (comp. the views of Duns Scotus, § 34),--can, e.
   g., allow whoredom and other like sins, for none of these are evil per
   se. Monks and priests are at liberty to kill the female misused by
   them, when they fear, on her account, for their honor. This writer
   declares himself expressly and decidedly in favor of the views of the
   Jesuits.--Also the Franciscan order became infected with the maxims of
   the Jesuits, as is proved by the very voluminous work of Barthol.
   Mastrius de Mandula, [206] which was published under the express
   sanction of the officers of the order, and who justifies restrictiones
   mentales even in oaths, [207] and also the murder of tyrants, [208] the
   murders of the slanderers of an important person, castration and
   similar things, [209] as well as also probabilism.

   The moral system of the Jesuits is not, strictly speaking, that of the
   Romish church; many of their more extreme maxims the church has
   condemned, and the more recent Jesuits themselves find it advisable no
   longer fully to avow their former principles. Nevertheless Jesuitism,
   together with its system of morals, is the ultimate consequential goal
   of the church in its turning-aside from the Gospel, just as (though in
   other respects widely different therefrom) Talmudism was the necessary
   goal of Judaism in its rejection of the Saviour. The error consists in
   the placing of human discretion and authority in the stead of the
   unconditionally valid, revealed will of God. Even as earlier
   Catholicism had intensified the divine command by self-invented,
   ascetic work-holiness into a seemingly greater severity,--had aimed at
   a higher moral perfection than that required by God,--so Jesuitism with
   like presumption lowered the moral law, out of consideration to
   temporal relations, to a merest minimum requirement,--contented itself
   with a much lower moral perfection than the divine law calls for, and
   sought out cunning means for lightening even this minimum. Jesuitical
   ethics is the opposite pole of monastic ethics; what the latter
   requires too much, the former requires too little. Monastic morality
   sought to win God for the sinful world; Jesuitical morality seeks to
   win the sinful world, not indeed for God, but at least for the church.
   Monasticism said to God, though not in an evangelical sense: "if I have
   only thee, then I ask for nothing else in heaven or earth;" Jesuitism
   says about the same thing, but says it to the world, and particularly
   to the distinguished and powerful. The former turns away in indignant
   contempt from the worldly life, because the world is immersed in sin;
   the latter generously receives the same into itself, and turns
   attention away from guilt, by denying it. It is true, the Jesuits
   represent also a monastic Order, but this order is only a means to an
   end, and resembles the other nobler orders about as much as wily Renard
   resembles the pious Pilgrim; and the well-known hostility of the older
   orders to this brilliantly rising new one, was not mere jealousy, but a
   very natural, and, for the most part. moral protest against the spirit
   of the same.

   Other casuists are: Jacobus à Graffiis, a Benedictine (Consiliorum s.
   respons. cas. consc. 1610, 2, 4to.); Pontas of Paris (Examen general de
   conscience, 1728; Latin, 1731, 8 fol., alphabetical); the French bishop
   Genettus (ob. 1702, Theologie morale; also in Latin, 1706, 2, 4to.,
   earnest and rigid); the Dominican Perazzo, in his Thomisticus
   ecclesiastes (1700, 3 fol.), digested the ethics of Thomas Aquinas into
   an alphabetical register; Malder of Antwerp treated it more
   systematically (De virtutibus theologicis, 1616).

   In a more systematic form, a purer Christian spirit, and, in many
   respects, opposed to Jesuitical views, and corresponding rather to
   Mediaeval ethics, is the moral treatise of the French bishop Godeau
   (1709); Natalis Alexander (1693) treated the same subject in a similar
   spirit, in connection with dogmatics.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [165] Universa philosophia moribus, Venet. 1583; Frkf., 1595, 1629.

   [166] Perrault: Morale des Jes., 1667, 3t.; Ellendorf: Die Moral und
   Politik des Jesuiten, 1840--not sufficiently scientific; Pragm. Gesch.
   d. Mönschsorden, 1770, vols. 9 and 10.

   [167] Genuae, 1592? 1602; Antv. 1607, 1612, 1614, 1617, 3 fol.; Norimb.
   1706; the first edition has become rare; in the later editions, after
   1612, the smuttiest passages are omitted or modified.

   [168] Rewritten and enlarged by Lacroix, 1710, 9t., Col. 1729, 2 fol.,
   and frequently.

   [169] Filliucci: Moral. quaest., I, trac. 6 c. 7; Escobar: Liber th.,
   VII, 4 c. 7 (especially n. 181, 182), comp. Ellendorf, 263 ssq., 312
   ssq.

   [170] Laymann: Theol. mor. 1625, i, p. 9; Escobar: Liber h., prooem.,
   exam. 3; Bresser: De consc. iii, c. 1 sq., and in almost all the
   others.

   [171] Quia ex opinionum varietate jugum Christi suavita sustinetur
   (Univ. theol. mor., t. i, lib. 2, 1, c. 2 in Crome, x, 182.)

   [172] Wolf: Gesch. d. Jesuit., 1, 173.

   [173] Escobar: Th. mor., prooeem., iii, n. 9, and many others.

   [174] Sanchez: Op. mor., i, 9, n. 12 sqq., n. 24.

   [175] Escobar: Th. mor. prooem., iii, n. 27; Laymann, i, p. 12; so also
   Diana: Resol. mor., ii, tract., 13,11 sqq., Antv., 1637; Summa, 1652,
   p. 216.

   [176] Laymann, i, p. 11.

   [177] Escobar: i, 2, n. 7 sqq.; v, 4, n. 1 sqq.

   [178] Defensio virtutis, i, 1.

   [179] Diana: Resol. mor. i, tract., 4, 4, 5.

   [180] E. g., Laymann: i, 2, c. 3; i, 9, 3; Escob.: i, 3, n. 28;
   Conseuetudo absque advertentia letale peccatum non facit.

   [181] Escobar: Tr. 7, 4, c. 7.

   [182] Sanchez: Opus mor., iii, 6, 12 sqq.; Summa: i, 3, 6; Diana: ii,
   tr. 15, 25 sqq.; iii, tr. 6, 30, where many cases are cited and
   approved; Ellendorf: pp. 42 sqq., 52 sqq., 124 sqq., 157 sqq.; Crome:
   x, 142 sqq.

   [183] Escobar: iii, 3, n. 48.

   [184] Ibid., i, 3, n. 31.

   [185] Compare Diana: iii, t. 5,100 sqq.

   [186] Escobar: i, 8; v, 2; Busenbaum: iii, 4; especially Sanchez; De
   matrim.; so also Diana; comp. Ellendorf: 30 sqq., 95 sqq., 288 sqq.,
   331 sqq.

   [187] Escobar: Liber, etc., princ. ii, n. 41; so also Bauny.

   [188] E. g., Diana: ii, t. 16, 54; 17, 62 ssq.; iii, 5, 87 sqq.; iv, 4,
   36, 37,--in the spirit of many of the Jesuits.

   [189] Especially Escobar: i, 7; comp. Ellendorf: 72 sqq.

   [190] Sanchez: Summa, t. i, 2, 39, 7; Amicus: De jure et justitia, v,
   sec. 7, 118; comp. Diana: iii, tr. 5, 97, ed. Antv. 1637.

   [191] Sanchez: Opus mor. ii, 39, 7.

   [192] Crome, x, 229; Escobar, i, 7, n. 59, 64.

   [193] In Escobar: Princ. iii, n. 25,--who, however, himself disapproves
   thereof.

   [194] Perrault, ii, 304 sqq.; Stäudlin, 503; Ellendorf, 360 sqq.

   [195] Resolutiones morales, Antv., 1629-37, 4 fol., Lugd. 1667, Venet.,
   1728.

   [196] Res. mor., Antv., 1637, ii, tract. 13; iv, tr. 3; Summa, 1652, p.
   214.

   [197] Ibid., iii, 5, 90; Summa, pp. 210, 212.

   [198] Res. mor., Antv., 1637, iii, tract. 5, 37.

   [199] Ibid., ii, tract. 15, 17.

   [200] Ibid., iii, tr. 6, 24.

   [201] Ibid., iii, tr. 6, 45.

   [202] Ibid., 6, 48.

   [203] Resol. mor., Antv., iii, 6, 81; in the spirit of Sanchez and
   Less.

   [204] Ibid., iv, tr., 4, 94; sanctioned by several Jesuits.

   [205] Theol. mor., 1645, 1652; the work itself I have not been able to
   find; comp. Perrault: i, 331 sqq.

   [206] Ibid., 1626.

   [207] Disp., xi, 52, 171, 172, 183, (ed. Ven. 1723.)

   [208] Ibid., viii, 27.

   [209] Ibid., viii, 25, 28; xi, 110 sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XXXIX.

   In striking antithesis to the morals of the Jesuits, stand the
   teachings of the Augustine-inspired Jansenists, who, in opposition to
   the subjectively-individual character of the Jesuitical system, hold
   fast to the immutable objectivity of the moral law, and teach the
   latter in a very rigid manner, much resembling that of Calvinists; but
   yet because of their leaning upon the earlier mysticism of the church
   they come short of carrying fully out the Reformatory principle.--The
   mystical theology--present in Jansenism only as a co-ordinate
   element--perpetuated itself in the Romish church, in natural antagonism
   to the cold casuistic morality of the Jesuits, but rather in a
   popularly devotional than in a scientific form, and rose, in the
   Quietism of Molinos, to a one-sided turning-aside from all vigorous
   moral activity, while Fenelon shaped a modified and moderated mysticism
   into a noble, moral system of devout contemplation.

   Jansen of Louvain (afterward bishop of Ypres), presses, in his
   Augustinus (1640), the doctrine of Augustine against the semi-Pelagian
   system of the Jesuits, and occasioned thereby a powerful theological
   movement which led almost to schism, and which demonstrated again by
   historical results that even the most rigid teaching of predestination
   brings about higher moral views than the doctrine of Pelagianism and
   semi-Pelagianism,--and for this simple reason, that, in the former
   system God is brought absolutely into the fore-ground, while, in the
   latter, the individual subject is put forward into a false position.
   Love to God and to his will is the essence of all morality; where God
   is not loved in an action, there the action is not moral; mere love to
   created things is sinful; but our love to God is poured out into our
   hearts by God himself, and hence stands in need of grace, which
   inclines the will directly and irresistibly to the working of the good.
   The four chief virtues and the three theological virtues, as adopted
   from Augustine, are only different manners of loving God; God is their
   ultimate goal, as also their source; his gracious working and our love,
   both inseparably united, constitute their impelling power; fear does
   indeed bring about order, but not virtue.--Although the book of Jansen
   was' burned at Rome, and forbidden by Papal bulls, still his opinions
   continued to disseminate themselves in the Netherlands and in France,
   and bade defiance to Jesuitism. The writings of Arnauld, Pascal,
   Nicole, Quesnel, developed the moral principles of Jansen still
   further, and though they in fact remained far remote from evangelical
   purity of faith, and even defended as a high virtue the afflicting of
   the body by fasting and other severe acts of penance, even to
   self-mortification, still they were thoroughly in earnest for moral
   purity,--required complete moral self-denial out of love of God, and
   placed the moral worth of all actions, and even of their ascetic
   practices, essentially in the disposition of the heart; and their
   ground-principles were definite and clear, and proof against all
   sophistry. [210] Arnauld assailed effectually the ethics of the
   Jesuits. Pascal's (ob. 1662) "Pensées" (1669 and later), consisting of
   thoughts on religion without any very close connection, attained to a
   very wide circulation. That the presentation of these quite plain
   thoughts could produce so great an impression, is evidence of how
   deeply had sunk the Christian life, and of how great was the necessity
   of reformation. Peter Nicole (ob. 1695) worked effectually, through his
   numerous popular and essentially Scripture-inspired writings on special
   moral topics, toward a purer form of ethics; [211] and this was done in
   still wider circles by Quesnel's "Moral Reflections" (at first in 1671,
   on the Four Gospels, afterward on the entire New Testament) which were
   affected with a slight tinge of mysticism;--(Sainte-Beuve:
   "Resolutions," etc., 1689, 3, 4to.). The open or underhanded opposition
   of the Jesuits to these writings simply awakened the attention of the
   people all the more to the great difference between the parties, and
   that, too, not to the advantage of the Jesuits.--The chief strength of
   Jansenism lay in its opposition to the Jesuits; its own positive
   contents, as an emphasizing of the practical phase of Augustinianism,
   was not consequentially carried out; it was not able to disenthrall
   itself from the unevangelical ground-thoughts of the corrupted church,
   but halted at half-ways; and hence though it had a wide-reaching, it
   did not have a permanent and profound, influence. Discarding the system
   of external work-holiness and insisting on the inner element of the
   moral life, it yet did not clearly and purely embrace the evangelical
   thought of faith, which first lays hold on grace and then freely
   carries out the life of grace; but it regarded morality not merely as
   an evidence of salvation, but also, though without merit in itself, as
   a means of salvation; hence its insisting on painfully-anxious ascetic
   practices.

   The mystical current of ethics, with which the Jansenists always
   manifested a sympathy, was represented by Francis de Sales (bishop of
   Geneva, ob. 1622, and subsequently canonized) in several works; [212]
   by Vergier (abbot of St. Cyr, ob. 1643) a Jansenist, who was already
   powerfully working in the direction of Quietism, and who encouraged the
   severest, and even cruel, self-mortifications; [213] and by Cardinal
   Bonaa (ob. 1674.) [214] Most remarkable, however, though quite
   consequential, was the manner in which mysticism was transformed into
   Quietism [215] by the Spaniard, Michael Molinos (afterward in Rome,)
   whose work entitled "Spiritual Guide," originally (1675) in Spanish,
   soon disseminated itself throughout Romish Europe. [216] As the goal of
   morality is union with God through an entire turning away from the
   creature, hence true morality must manifest itself, not in acting in
   the outer world, but in turning away from it. Such is the doctrine
   which Molinos derives from his favorites among the earlier mystics,
   from Dionysius the Areopagite down. In contemplation, in the path of
   faith, in immediate spiritual vision of God, without the intervention
   of an inferential process of thought, the soul already possesses
   eternal truth. True vision, inward rest and inward composure,--the
   remaining silent in the presence of God, the beholding of God without
   figure or form, and without distinguishing between his attributes, as
   the absolutely One,--all this is not a self-acquired active state, but
   a passive one imparted by God himself to the soul, so that consequently
   God alone works in man, and the soul itself remains m6tionless and
   inactive,--yields itself entirely to the solely-working divine
   activity,--is entirely united with God; this is the true, pure manner
   of prayer, which cannot be uttered in words, but is a holy
   keeping-silence of the soul. Satiated in this union with God the soul
   is entirely filled with the divine, and hates all worldly
   things,--feels a repugnance to every thing earthly, forgets every thing
   created, is divested, in its inner solitude, of all affections and
   thoughts, of all inclinations and all creature-will,--withdraws itself
   into its most innermost depths, and enjoys, in its total
   self-forgetfulness (entirely merged into God), perfect inner rest, and
   holy peace; self-mortification and self-denial are but disciplinary
   helps for beginners in the acquiring of salvation, but do not
   themselves lead to perfection; this is attained only through sinking
   into one's own nothingness, through 'self-annihilation," through the
   putting on of, and becoming united with, God.--Molinos, though at first
   favored by the Pope, was afterward delivered over, by the influence of
   the Jesuits, to the Inquisition, and was required to disavow his
   doctrines (1687), and died in prison. Many of the propositions
   condemned were only inferences drawn from his writings, though not
   expressly taught by himself.--In spite of this and other persecutions,
   mysticism still continued to exist, also in its quietistic form, in the
   Latin nations. (Madam Bouvier de la Mothe Guion--ob. 1717--represented
   it in numerous writings, mostly published by Poiret, in. which she
   sometimes goes in fervent mystical depth of love, even beyond
   Molinos,--the out-gush of a glowingly enthusiastic womanly
   heart.)--Fénelon, archbishop of Cambray, favored the doctrine of Madame
   Guion, and endeavored by moderating her quietistic views to conjure the
   opposition; and his writings, which portray in simple, noble eloquence
   the pious life of the Christian, and keep free from the extremes of
   one-sided mysticism, and uniformly place love to God in the foreground
   as the essence of the moral, offer and propose, in opposition to the
   pettifogging dialectics of Jesuitical morality, the Christian
   spirituality of the heart. His mystical masterpiece (Explication des
   Maxims des Saintes, 1697, and often subsequently) was condemned by the
   Pope and proscribed; Fénelon yielded.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [210] Comp. Reuchlin: Geschichte von Portroyal, 1839, and the same
   author's Pascals Leben, 1840,--neither work entirely unprejudiced.

   [211] Kirchenhistor. Archiv. v. Stäudlin, etc., 1824, 1, 127.

   [212] Oeuvres, Paris, 1821, 16 t., 1834.

   [213] Opp. theol., 1642, 1653.

   [214] Manuductio ad coelum, 1664, and frequently; Opp. Antv., 1673,
   1739.

   [215] Walch: Einl. in d. Rel. streit. ausser. d. ev. K., 1724, ii, p.
   982; Stäudlin u. Tschirner: Archiv., i, 2, 175.

   [216] Walch: Einl. in d. Rel. streit. ausser. d. ev. K., 1724, ii, p.
   982; Stäudlin u. Tschirner: Archiv., i, 2, 175.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XL.

   Independently of the Reformation,--because averse to Christianity
   itself, and standing rather in connection with the already previously
   existing breaking-loose from the evangelically-moral consciousness
   which showed itself, as godlessness on the one hand, and as humanism on
   the other,--there was developed, in antithesis to the Christian
   religion and to Mediaeval philosophy (as also in antithesis to the
   riper Greek philosophy, and consequently to the historical spirit in
   general) an essentially new philosophical movement, which, while moving
   forward under manifold modifications of form, gradually won a
   progressively greater influence on theology, and in fact chiefly also
   on theological ethics, leading the same astray, on the one hand, into
   deep-reaching errors, but also, on the other (and in fact because of
   these errors) bringing it to a riper self-examination and to a clearer
   self-consciousness. Showing a preference,--in contrast to the precedent
   of the better form of scholasticism,--to those ancient moralists who
   already represented the decadence of Greek thought, namely, to the
   Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Skeptics, or indeed also, merely in a
   general way, to the so-called humanistic spirit of antiquity,--this
   movement (which found favor especially in Italy and France, because of
   the there-increasing demoralization of the higher classes), shows
   itself at first, for the most part, simply in the form of general
   maxims and sentiments, and attained only rarely to a more scientific
   shape. Scarcely anywhere save in Germany did this current of thought
   rise to scientific earnestness and philosophical development, and
   thereby to a more substantial moral character. Spinoza broke off all
   connection with ancient and Mediaeval philosophy, and developed a
   consequential Pantheistic system, in which ethics assumes the form of
   an objective describing of the absolutely unfree, purely
   mechanically-conceived moral life, as determined with unconditional
   nature-necessity by the life of the universe, although, because of the
   unhistorical originality of his manner of thinking, he exerted but
   little influence upon his (for this element, yet unreceptive) age. All
   the greater, however, became the influence of the philosophy of
   Leibnitz, representing as it did a world-theory the opposite of that of
   Spinoza, and placing itself rigidly on monotheistic ground, and
   standing in a much closer connection with history;--especially was this
   influence extended through the labors of his somewhat independent
   disciple, Christian Wolf, who created a very detailed and morally
   earnest system of ethics, essentially under the form of the doctrine of
   duties, which, as a purely philosophical opposition-movement to the
   above-mentioned non-Christian and anti-Christian current, attained to a
   not undeserved influence on Christian ethics in Germany, and gave rise
   in Crusius to an evangelically deeper, though not philosophically
   carried-out, development of moral science.

   It is utterly incorrect and anti-historical to deduce the collective,
   and (as some have done) even the anti-Christian philosophy of modern
   times from the Reformation, or even to regard it as standing in any
   close connection therewith. The essence of the Reformation is not the
   freeing of the individual subject from all objective authority.
   Historically, we are forced to hold fast to the fact that both before,
   and during, and after, the time of the Reformation, there were
   prevailing still other entirely different spiritual influences than the
   religiously-evangelical one,--influences which were in part entirely
   independent of the Reformation and of its spirit, nay, even utterly
   opposed thereto, and in part, though occasioned in their development by
   the movement of thought going out from the Reformation, were yet not
   caused thereby. The renewed cultivation of ancient classical
   literature, especially of the belletristic as distinguished from the
   philosophy of Plato and Aristotle, played, in the Reformation-movement,
   only a very subordinate and essentially negative role, namely, in that
   it undermined the credit of scholasticism. The deep earnestness of the
   religious life in the evangelical church, the required inward purity,
   and the repentance of regeneration, consisted but illy with a love for
   the exaltation of the natural man, as exhibited in Greek literature;
   and it was much easier for humanism to find an undisturbed patronage
   within the Romish church,--which, though indeed not theoretically
   approving of the movement, had yet practically already long since
   accorded it favor. Humanism was the name self-assumed by this movement,
   which in antithesis to the Christian world-theory placed man, in his
   natural development, into the fore-ground even of its moral
   world-theory, and threw as far as possible into the back-ground his
   need of redemption, and which had consequently in Christianity only a
   scientific and esthetic interest. The unbelieving impiety which
   prevailed widely in the Romish church of that age, and which found its
   way even into the Papal chair, had a much more lively sympathy for
   heathen literature than the evangelical church. The Pelagian character
   of humanism stood in fact nearer to the view of the Romish church than
   to that of the evangelical. Luther turned the unevangelical Erasmus
   indignantly away; Rome offered him a cardinal's hat.

   It was quite natural, although it had nothing at all to do with the
   evangelical Reformation, that there should now rise in opposition to
   the one-sided idealism and spiritualism of scholasticism, an equally
   one-sided realism and naturalism, which would naturally enough find
   encouragement in the spirit of the age as weaned off from the Mediaeval
   ideals of chivalry and poetry, and as immersed in material interests
   and in the prose of politics. This thoroughly non-Christian
   naturalistic tendency, which attained to a more spiritual content only
   in the sphere of German thought, manifested from the very start a
   decided aversion to all history, an aversion which constantly grew more
   marked and positive. This anti-historical spirit began already to show
   itself in the attempt to call again into life, in disregard to the
   entire history of Christian thought, an ante-Christian world-theory,
   namely, to effect a rehabilitation of the spirit of the heathen thought
   of Greece and Rome. At a later period the movement went still
   further,--broke even with the history of philosophy, pushing it
   entirely aside even in its ancient form,--and the "philosophical"
   century thought to display its strength in speaking disdainfully of the
   spiritual products of a Plato and an Aristotle, and in regarding as
   philosophers only third and fourth rate minds, such as Cicero, and in
   basing itself, in boundless self-sufficiency, purely and simply upon
   itself. It required all the pretension of the so-called philosophical
   century to accept men, such as Rousseau and Voltaire (who had in fact
   scarcely the faintest conception of solid philosophical thought-work),
   as the greatest philosophers of the world's history. From the history
   of thought, these men were unwilling to learn any thing, but solely
   from nature; every one wanted to philosophize on his own
   responsibility; every thing had to be entirely new; the new era wished
   to owe nothing to the past, but contemptuously to tread it under foot;
   and the reaction from this anti-historical, and hence unspiritual
   tendency, begins only quite late--with Schelling. Now as the
   Christianly-moral world-theory has a thoroughly historical character,
   hence the history of this essentially naturalistic form of ethics
   admits of no possible organic incorporation into the history of
   Christian ethics; it simply moves side by side with the Christian
   current,--breaks, especially at a later period, disturbing, confusing,
   and perverting, into it,--but is with only slight exception not a
   furthering element of its development.

   Erasmus, who enters the ethical field in several treatises, [217] does
   not as yet himself directly assail the Christianly-moral consciousness,
   but only presents with prudent reserve the ethics of Plato and Cicero
   as very closely related to Christian ethics, and mingles faint
   Christian views with Grecian, and thereby reduces them to the level of
   Pelagianism. His assaults on the moral abuses of the church are devoid
   of Christian depth.--Pomponatius (of Padua and Bologna, ob. about
   1525), [218] who, under the patronage of the Papal court, assailed the
   doctrine of personal immortality, professed, in point of ethics, to
   belong to the Stoic school,--taught absolute determinism, and presented
   the Christian view only ambiguously along-side of the
   heathen.--Lipsius, in the Netherlands (ob. 1606) went still further in
   the exaltation of Stoicism, [219] though his opinions received no very
   favorable commendation from his unbridled life and from his threefold
   change of faith--Romish, Lutheran, Reformed, and then Romish again.--In
   all essential features belongs here also the Socinian ethics of Crell,
   which is in many respects kindred to the later Rationalistic system,
   and presents (in a spirit of pure Pelagianism) Christian ethics simply
   as improved Aristotelian ethics, and prefers the latter to the ethics
   of the Old Testament. [220] --Agrippa of Nettesheim (of Cologne, ob.
   1535), undermined, by a far-reaching skepticism, the certainty of all
   moral consciousness, and explained this consciousness simply by mere
   fortuitous habit and by fortuitously-adopted public manners; [221] his
   magico-alchemistic superstitiousness forms the back-ground thereto.
   (Giordano Bruno, the forerunner of Spinoza, produced no system of
   ethics.)

   Less influential upon his own age than upon recent times, was the
   philosophy of Spinoza. His chief work, Ethica (1677), which appeared
   only after his death, constitutes almost an entire philosophical
   system, of which the ethical part proper forms indeed the largest but
   not the most philosophical and important. This perspicuous and
   mathematically-exact treatise presents not so strictly a speculative
   development of the subject-matter as, rather, rational elucidations and
   proofs of assumed propositions, among which, however, some very
   important ones, which needed to be demonstrated, are presented merely
   as axioms not needing proof, or are disguised in definitions. That the
   Jewish, but also Judaism-rejecting, philosopher should feel himself
   obliged also to ignore the history of the human spirit in general, was
   naturally to be expected; his system (if we except the philosophy of
   Descartes, which had likewise but little connection with earlier
   philosophy, and whose monotheistical character Spinoza assails) has no
   historical antecedents proper, but in fact begins anew the
   philosophical thought-work from the very beginning, and develops the
   Pantheistic world-theory so consequentially and undisguisedly as is
   nowhere else to be found.--God, as the solely existing substance whose
   two attributes are thought and extension, has not a world different
   from and outside of himself, but is this world himself, as considered
   simply under a particular aspect. All particular being is only a mode
   of the existence of God; and all these modes are conditioned by the
   absolute necessity of the divine life, and cannot be otherwise than as
   they really are; all that is, is what, and as, it is, from necessity;
   of every thing which is or takes place the principle holds absolutely
   good: omnia sunt ex necessitate naturae divinae determinata. Hence this
   holds good equally also of man, who is likewise a particular mode of
   the being of God. When we say: "the human soul thinks something," this
   is the same as to say: "God thinks," not however in so far as God is
   infinite, but in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human
   spirit. Hence human thought is just as necessarily determined as is all
   being in general,--and hence knows per se, and necessarily, the
   truth.--Now, thinking has two phases: knowing and willing. Of willing
   the same holds good as of knowing, namely, it is absolutely determined
   in all its activity. Every will-act has a definite cause, by which it
   is absolutely determined. Willing can never contradict knowing, but is
   the immediate and necessary product of the same, and is, strictly
   speaking, identical therewith; willing is affirming, and non-willing is
   denying. He who believes that he speaks, or keeps silent, or does any
   thing else, by free choice, dreams with open eyes. Men delude
   themselves into thinking that they are free in their volitions, only
   because they are not conscious of the cause which absolutely determines
   them; all that takes place through the activity of the will is
   necessary, and therefore good. This doctrine renders the heart calm and
   makes us happy; with it we have no longer any occasion for fear, for we
   know that every thing takes place according to the everlasting decree
   of God, with the same necessity as it follows from the idea of a
   triangle, that its three angles are equal to two right angles,--teaches
   us to hate, to despise, to mock no one,--teaches us unlimited
   contentment (ii, prop. 48, 49).

   All this is clear and consequential; but how can the existence of a
   moral consciousness be reconciled therewith? How can any thing be
   morally required or done, if every thing takes place with unconditional
   necessity, and if will-freedom is only a false appearance? That there
   can be no question of a moral command proper, of an "ought," Spinoza
   himself virtually admits, inasmuch as he declares it his purpose to
   speak of human actions just as if the matter in question were lines,
   surfaces, and solids (iii. prooem.) We are active in so far as any
   thing takes place within or without us, of which we are the perfect
   cause; and the more we are active, and the less we are passive, so much
   the more perfect are we. Even as all other things, so also the spirit
   strives to retain and to enlarge its reality; its striving is its
   willing; the end is not different from the cause--from the
   unfree-acting impulse of nature; the passing-over to a higher reality
   awakens the feeling of pleasure; the opposite, that of displeasure.
   Pleasure in connection with the consciousness of its cause, is love;
   the opposite is hate. For a real difference between good and evil there
   is, in this world-theory, no place whatever. Neither good nor evil is a
   reality in things themselves, but both are simply subjective
   conceptions and notions, which we form by a comparison of things, and
   are hence only relative relations having their basis not in things but
   in ourselves,--are only modes of our thinking; for example, a
   particular piece of music is good for a melancholic person, not good
   for a different one, and is of no significancy at all for a deaf one;
   hence it is per se neither good nor bad, (iv, praef:) Hence we cannot
   say in general that any thing at all is good per se; it is only by
   comparing one thing with another higher entity, or with a notion formed
   by ourselves, that we find any thing to be good; good and evil are only
   expressions of our subjective judgment as to that for or against which
   we have a desire or an aversion. Per se, however, every thing is good,
   because necessary; nothing is or transpires without God or against his
   will; every thing is just as, according to eternal, divine destination
   and necessity, it ought to be; hence the notion of evil is only a
   limited and ungrounded manner of thinking on the part of our own
   understanding,--is nothing on the part of God. Evil is in fact, even in
   our own conception, only a negative something, a privation; but God
   knows no mere negative something, hence God knows absolutely nothing of
   evil (comp. the view of Erigena, § 33), and hence there is in reality
   no such thing as evil; for what God does not know does not exist, and
   outside of God's thinking there is no other thinking. Moreover, were
   evil or sin a real something, God would necessarily not only know it,
   but also be the cause of it, for God is the substance and the cause of
   all that is; and what is of God cannot be evil. Hence it is only a
   false manner of looking at things, an imagination, when we find any
   thing evil in the real world,--false, in that we bring things into
   relation to ourselves, to our fortuitous feelings of pleasure and
   displeasure, instead of contemplating them in their own nature; in and
   of itself, and hence in truth, every thing real is good and perfect. In
   all seemingly free action nothing else can take place than what results
   with necessity from the existing circumstances of the acting subject.
   Even the stings of conscience are a self-deception, and are nothing
   other than a sadness or chagrin which we feel over some kind of a
   failure. Let it not be objected to this, that if men do every thing
   from necessity, and hence, also, sin from necessity, they cannot
   consequently be blamed therefor, but that all men would then be
   necessarily happy. On the contrary, man can be without guilt, and,
   notwithstanding that, be also devoid of happiness. The horse is not
   guilty for its not being man, and nevertheless it still remains a
   horse; and he who is bitten by a mad-dog is also not guilty therefor,
   and yet he goes mad; he who is blind was in fact destined in the
   concatenation of beings to be blind and not seeing (Ep., 32, 34.) This
   is surely the most wonderful justification of the moral order of the
   universe which one could possibly fall upon; for, in fact, whence can
   mad-dogs originate in an absolutely necessary and good world? If every
   thing is necessary, and the entirely innocent can be made mad by
   mad-dogs, this is evidently a very bad sort of world-order. And we must
   ask: if all human thinking is the thinking of God himself, and is
   absolutely necessary, how is there in fact possible any manner of false
   thinking and imagining? If men really regard evil as real, then this
   is, in fact, an error on the part of God himself, which our philosopher
   should endeavor to account for; but if there is no evil, then there is
   also no error, and the system thus entangles itself in its own meshes.
   And when Spinoza makes error to be just as necessary as truth (ii,
   prop., 35, 36), he still cannot evade this contradiction by declaring
   error to be merely relative, for a merely seeming error would yet in
   reality be the truth, and hence would not admit of the turn here taken
   by Spinoza.

   Hence--so infers Spinoza--all is good which is useful; and all is evil
   which hinders from a good (iv, def., 1, 2.) Hence virtue is the power
   or capacity of acting in conformity to our own nature; virtus nihil
   aliud est, quam ex legibus propriae naturae agere; hence every one must
   follow the necessity of his nature, and by it judge of good and evil.
   Hence sin is avoided for the simple reason that it is contrary to our
   nature; but why sin is yet in fact committed, Spinoza needs not to
   answer, because sin in the proper sense of the word cannot be committed
   at all; of sin there can be any question only in the State, and, there,
   it is disobedience to civil law (iv, 37, schol. 2). As reason can
   require nothing which would be against nature, hence it requires that
   each should strive for that which is useful to himself; and useful is
   that which brings each to a higher reality. Hence morality requires
   that each should love himself, should seek to preserve as much as
   possible his existence, and to bring it to higher perfection and
   reality; and man is all the more virtuous the more he seeks after that
   which is useful to him, (iv, prop. 18).--As the essence of reason is
   knowledge, hence knowledge is the most useful of things, and the
   rational man holds nothing for truly useful save that which contributes
   to knowledge. Hence the highest good is the knowledge of God, and the
   highest virtue is the striving thereafter; and every man has the
   strength necessary thereto; and as the body is directly connected with
   the spirit, and as the spirit is all the more vigorous the more
   vigorous the body is, hence it is useful and virtuous to make the body
   skillful.

   The good always awakens delight; hence delight is per se necessarily
   good, and sadness necessarily evil, as well as whatever leads to
   sadness. Hence compassion is, for the rational man, evil and
   irrational; true, it often inclines us to beneficence, but this we
   should do at any rate even without compassion, (this is the virtue of
   generositas); and the truly wise man knows indeed that nothing is or
   takes place in the world over which we could grieve; moreover
   compassion easily leads astray to false acting (Eth. iv, 50).--Also
   humility as including a feeling of sadness is not a virtue, and springs
   not from reason, but from error, inasmuch as in it man recognizes
   himself as, in some respect, powerless, whereas, in virtue of the
   prevalence of universal necessity, he has all the power necessary to
   his destination (iv, 53). Repentance over committed sin is not only not
   virtuous, but it is irrational, because it rests on the delusion of
   having done a free and, that too, evil action, whereas the action was
   in reality necessary, and hence good; he who feels repentance is
   consequently doubly miserable. However, our moralist appears to shrink
   back from the practical consequences of this doctrine; he declares it
   as very dangerous when the great masses are not kept in bounds by
   humility, repentance and fear (iii, 59, def. 27; iv, prop. 54),--an
   apprehension which is, of course, entirely inexplicable from the
   ground-principle of his system, and must be banished, as a mere
   "imagination," into the sphere of unreason; for how can there be, in
   Spinoza's world, a dangerous populace to be curbed only by false
   notions, seeing that indeed every thing that takes place is absolutely
   a necessary divine act?--The notion that any thing is bad or evil is,
   according to Spinoza, per se already an evil; if man is truly rational
   and has only correct ideas, then he can have no notion of evil at all,
   for it in fact does not exist; whatever affects us as pain or
   suffering, is such only in virtue of an erroneous, confused conception,
   an "imagination;" if we have correct knowledge, then are we free from
   all pain; the more we recognize all things as necessary, so much the
   less are we subject to suffering; every painful state of the emotions
   disappears so soon as we form to ourselves a clear notion thereof.
   Hence, according to Spinoza, the sole evil is false conceptions, but
   how these could arise we are not informed.--He who truly knows himself
   and his circumstances, has necessarily joy; and as in all true knowing
   he also knows God, and as this knowing is attended with joy, hence he
   also loves God; hence in the knowledge and love of God consists the
   highest joy. God himself, however, (conceived as the universe) is
   without states of emotion, without love or aversion. God can neither
   love nor hate, save in the love or hate of man himself; and when any
   one who loves God desires to be loved in turn by God, he desires in
   fact that God should cease to be God. True, we may indeed speak of
   God's love, but not in such a manner as that God as a personal spirit
   should love man, but only that God loves in our love; God loves not me
   but God loves himself, namely, in that I love Him.

   Spinoza's ethics appears at once as very widely different from all
   preceding ethics; its essential characteristic is, unhistoricalness.
   Greek philosophy, and also scholasticism, are the fruit of a long and
   vigorous development of an historical current of human
   thought,--presuppose an already historical moral consciousness, for
   which they aim to create a scientific form. Spinoza's ethics sprang, in
   no sense whatever, from the spirit of an historical people,--has no
   historical antecedents, no historical consecration, and hence wears in
   its lofty, reality-spurning bearing, also the character of historical
   impossibility. Plato's idealistic state is historically possible on a
   Greek basis; Spinoza's ethics can absolutely never and nowhere be the
   expression of the moral consciousness of a people,--can be appropriated
   only as their isolated moral consciousness by single persons, who in
   proud selfishness imagine themselves far above the morally-religious
   consciousness of the masses, whereas in fact they owe the very
   possibility of their moral existence in society simply to this
   consciousness of the masses. Spinoza has learned nothing, whether from
   the philosophers of Greece, from the Middle Ages, from the religion of
   the Old Testament, or from Christianity; his ethical speculations are
   devoid of preparatory antecedents,--are an absolutely revolutionary
   breaking-off from all historical spirit-development,--base themselves
   purely upon individual thinking. His unimportant dependence on
   Descartes is not in conflict therewith. If he had had even the
   slightest appreciation for the significance and the rights of history,
   he would have been required, on the very ground of his own system, to
   recognize the Christian world-theory as a highly important revelation
   of the alone-ruling God, and to regard history in general as a normal
   and necessary life-manifestation of God. Whereas in fact he turns
   himself contemptuously away from all history of thought, as if God had
   come to true self-consciousness alone and solely in himself. He does
   not free himself in any sense from the contradiction of declaring, on
   the one hand, all reality as necessary and good, and all evil as mere
   appearance, and of regarding on the other hand, all previously-existing
   spiritual reality as absolutely wrong, senseless, and irrational.

   Plato and Aristotle, for the reason that they stand more within the
   current of history, stand also far nearer the Christian consciousness
   than Spinoza. In his wide-reaching antithesis to the real essence of
   spirit which is in fact necessarily history, he is the father of the
   Naturalism of more recent times. Only the unfree, the nature-entity, is
   real; the free, the spiritual, and hence also the moral, in general has
   no existence whatever. Though indeed he contrasts thought and extension
   in space, as being of different nature, yet this thinking is in fact
   not free and spiritual, but bears absolutely a nature-character,--has
   not ends before it, but simply presents manifestations of a necessary
   ground; so in the case of God, so in the case of man. Ethics is
   therefore degraded to a mere describing of necessary nature-phenomena;
   and where it falls into the tone of moral- exhortation in view of
   rational ends, then this is to be understood either in a merely
   improper sense, and is indulged in simply in view of the unwise
   multitude, or it comes into irreconcilable contradiction with the
   ground-thought of the system. The Jew continues a Jew, in this
   Christian age, only through hatred against history, which has in fact
   pronounced his condemnation; he is either the petrified guest in the
   midst of living society, or the insolently mocking despiser of all
   historical reality, utterly devoid of reverence and respect for the
   historical spirit,--a champion of the wildest radicalism. Spinoza,
   breaking loose from the petrified form of Talmudic Judaism, stands
   entirely isolated in the world of the historical spirit; he can find
   for himself no proper place in this world,--makes only an attempt to
   build up an entirely new world out of himself. The same self-delusion
   which prevails throughout post-Christian Judaism, namely, in that it
   dreams of still having an historical character, whereas it has in fact
   sunk utterly into mere lifeless matter, is also potent in Spinoza. He
   dreams of creating a system. of ethics, whereas it proves to be really
   nothing else than the theoretical describing of a moral instinct devoid
   of a rational end. Where the "must" dominates, there all "should" and
   "would" cease. In sharp contrast to the pure idealistic Pantheism of
   Erigena, who really recognizes only God and not the world, and who,
   like the Indians, finds evil only in the distinguishing of the worldly
   and finite from God, Spinoza holds in fact fast to the reality and
   divinity of the finite,--merges God into the world, and regards the
   real, simply as it is, in its isolated separateness, as good and
   perfect. The Pantheism of Erigena leads to an ascetic turning-away from
   the world; that of Spinoza, to a contented and absolutely satisfied
   merging of self into the world; and the "akosmism" which Hegel thinks
   he discovers in Spinoza is not to be found in him, but rather in the
   nobler and far more spiritual John Scotus Erigena.

   Spinoza exerted in his own age but little influence. Notwithstanding
   the deep spiritually-moral declension of that dark period, the
   religious God-consciousness was as yet too vital to fall in with this
   naturalistic Pantheism; and the requirement to recognize all reality as
   necessary and good, could find little response at a time of profound
   disorganization and far-reaching material, misfortune in Germany. It
   was reserved for a later age, when a wide-spread irreligious sentiment
   was attempting to create for itself a scientific justification, to
   emphasize the doctrine of Spinoza not merely in its undeniable (though
   yet not to be overestimated) philosophical significancy, but also to
   attempt to exalt it to a religious character, nay, even to a pretended
   transfiguration of Christianity, and "to offer a lock to the manes of
   the holy Spinoza "--(Schleierm., Reden; 2 ed.., p. 68).

   That from this doctrine there could arise for the moral life itself
   only a perverting influence, needs for the unprejudiced mind no proof.
   The letting of one's self alone in his immediate naturalness and
   reality, is here even lauded as wisdom; repentance and sanctification
   within, and sanctifying activity without, become folly, because no one
   has either the right or the ability initiatively to interfere with the
   eternally necessary course of things. That Spinoza himself was an
   upright man, proves nothing in favor of his system; the weight of
   custom and the natural moral sentiments are often stronger than a
   perverse theory; nor is, in fact, mere uprightness in our social
   relations the full manifestation of the moral.

   Leibnitz,--though also stimulated by Descartes, but opposed to Spinoza
   in his fundamental thoughts, and more imbued with an historical spirit,
   and standing in closer connection with the results of precedent
   spiritual development,--did not produce a system of ethics proper,
   though he broke the way for the development of such. Though highly
   respecting the Christian consciousness, he yet had no very deep
   appreciation for the same, and hence his thoughts in relation to
   religion and morality are of a somewhat external character. He is
   unable to comprehend evil in the purely spiritual sphere, but seeks for
   its roots, beyond this sphere, in the essence of the creature as such.
   God as the absolutely perfect rational spirit has indeed realized,
   among all possible conceptions of a world, the best one; but as the
   world does not contain the fullness of all perfection, which in fact
   exists in God alone, nor yet all possible perfections, as in fact all
   that is possible has not become real, hence there lies in the
   conception even of the best world still at the same time the necessity
   of a certain imperfection, without which a world is in fact not
   conceivable, and which consequently belongs to the essence of the world
   as such, and is a malum metaphysicum; this is, however, not per se a
   reality, but only a nonbeing, a limit. The reality of the morally evil
   is fortuitous, is the fault of man; only the possibility of it is
   necessary. In his popularly-written work "Théodicée" (1710), he further
   develops this thought, although elucidatorily rather than
   scientifically.--Though Leibnitz recognizes the freedom of the will and
   the guilt of man in relation to sin, still he does not sufficiently
   deeply conceive of this guilt, and above all of the significancy and
   workings of sin as an historical world-power, otherwise he would have
   constructed his theory quite differently. He constantly seeks the roots
   of evil elsewhere than in committed sin. The naturalistic determinism
   of Spinoza, however, he utterly rejects; to the free personal God,
   corresponds the freedom of the rational creature. The rational man
   never acts from mere fortuitous fancies, but only from rational
   grounds. But this moral necessity does not interfere with liberty,
   because the possibility of irrational determinations still
   remains.--Leibnitz conceives of ethics essentially as the doctrine of
   right, inasmuch as moral duty is a right of God upon us. Right, in the
   wide sense of the word, has three stages: mere right, which requires
   that we injure no one; equitableness, which leaves and imparts to every
   one his own; and piety, which fulfills the will of God and thereby
   preserves the harmony of the world. Hence faith in the personal,
   almighty and all-wise God is the foundation of all right; and the
   essence of piety is love to God, from which all other forms of love,
   constituting the essence of justness, receive their power. To love
   signifies to be rejoiced by the happiness of another, or to make that
   happiness one's own. The proper object of love is the beautiful, that
   is, that, the contemplation of which delights; but God is the highest
   beautiful. Piety as the highest stage of right, creates also the
   highest moral communion--the church--which is destined to embrace
   entire humanity. The three forms of society, corresponding to the three
   stages of right, have also a threefold uniting-bond: mere power, and
   reverence, and conscience; but also the first two receive their real
   character of right, only through the latter. Love to God leads us into
   the way of the highest happiness,--is in itself already the beginning
   of the same in the "this-side," and works a constant progress in
   perfection also in the "yon-side." [222]

   In an original spirit, and, in the moral sphere, almost independently
   of Leibnitz, wrote Christian Wolf. He created a complete ethical
   system. [223] His great reputation, and the authoritative character
   which he enjoyed with his contemporaries, were, however, almost
   entirely overthrown in the Kantian period; that over-estimation, as
   also the subsequent under-estimation, were equally unjust. A many-sided
   boldly-exploring spirit, and, though in many respects deceiving himself
   as to the scientific value of propositions which he uttered with the
   greatest confidence, and attempted to demonstrate in a not unfrequently
   stiff mathematical form, he yet attained to an extraordinary influence,
   because of the clearness and precision of his ideas, and of their
   manner of presentation, and gave rise, also in the sphere of ethics, to
   a very vigorous scientific movement; and though his commendable effort
   to remain in harmony with Christian revelation was not by any means
   always realized, yet it helped to preserve for a long while in Germany,
   as in contrast to the frivolous hatred of Revelation prevalent in
   France and in England, a more earnest Christian and scientific spirit.
   Precisely in the field of morals Wolf was greatly influential toward
   the independent shaping of German science; and he broke off the
   excessive dependence, also of theological ethics, on Aristotle. While
   Wolf, in his decided, scientifically-grounded recognition of the
   personal God--whom he conceives of indeed rather merely, in his
   relation to the world, as Creator and Governor, and less,--in relation
   to himself, in his inner essence-holds fast to the
   objectively-religious basis of ethics; he yet at first view seems to
   endanger the subjective foundation thereof, namely, the moral freedom
   of the will, by his determinism.

   Whatever takes place, also the seemingly fortuitous, has a sufficient
   ground, either in itself or in its connection with other things, and is
   in so far determined; there takes place no change whatever which is not
   conditioned in the peculiarity of the concatenation of the universe,
   and determined by the antecedent circumstances thereof, just as a
   clock, set in motion for a whole year, is determined in each moment of
   its movement by this its first starting; the world is just such an
   absolutely, determined clock-work,--is a machine. Also in the freedom
   of the human will, every real determination has its sufficient ground,
   and is not arbitrary. This freedom consists in the possibility of
   choosing and doing the opposite of what we really do, but that the
   opposite possible should become real pre-supposes motives, and in so
   far as the motive. is sufficient, this determination to realization is
   also conditioned by the motive. It is impossible that a person who
   knows something as better, should prefer to it the worse, and hence in
   such a case it is necessary that he should choose the better; but the
   will is free in this nevertheless, as in fact man has the ground of his
   determination of will in himself.--This sounds at once very
   questionable, and, as is well known, Wolf was, because of this
   doctrine, driven from the Prussian states, as politically dangerous.
   However, it is not to be overlooked that when man is considered as a
   rational creature per se irrespective of the already-existing
   depravity, his freedom is in fact not a groundless and irrational
   caprice, but is determined by rational knowledge, and that, for the
   really moral man in possession of correct knowledge, there does in fact
   exist a moral necessity of following the rational. Hence Wolf's thought
   is not per se incorrect, but only too unguarded, and therefore liable
   to misunderstanding. As, however, Wolf expressly declares himself
   against determinism as held by Spinoza, and as he distinctly and
   repeatedly asserts the real, free will-determination of man, though
   indeed not as irrational caprice, [224] we are consequently not at
   liberty to attribute to him the full determinism of Spinoza.--The
   question as to whether, and in how far, our knowledge is conditioned by
   and dependent on our moral nature, and hence as to whether this
   knowledge is freely, or absolutely unfreely, determined, Wolf does not
   answer, but simply holds, that our willing is conditioned and
   determined by our knowledge; and with him, as with Socrates, the
   essential point is simply to correct and disseminate knowledge, and
   then the corresponding moral action follows of itself with inner
   necessity. Hence we can explain the almost unbounded pretensions which
   the Wolfian ethics makes, and hence also the per se correct, but (in
   view of the actual condition of humanity) erroneous thought that ethics
   is not simply a scientific consciousness of the moral life, but also an
   essential motive to the moral life itself,--that, properly understood,
   ethics is the source of virtue. This thought stands forth more or less
   clearly throughout Wolf's writings; practice follows theory of
   necessity. The moral life is like a mathematical question proposed for
   solution; it is only necessary to have clear notions of virtue and vice
   and of duty, and then evil disappears of itself, and man becomes
   virtuous. "I have," says Wolf, (in the preface to his second edition),
   "not a little lightened the entire practice of the good and the
   avoidance of the evil, by the fact that I have shown that when one
   wishes to turn the will, it is just the same as when one disputes,
   namely, in that one has at all times in the one case, as in the other,
   simply to answer to one of the premises of an inference;" and later (in
   the preface to the third edition) he says: "When my writings on
   world-wisdom and, among them, the present one on what men are to do and
   what not to do, appeared, those who are able to understand and judge of
   the matter for themselves, and who were not prepossessed by unfavorable
   prejudices, judged that thenceforth reason and virtue would become
   universal, and that every body would strive, by this means, to attain
   to happiness of life." Wolf, however, expressly deprecates the
   misconception, that in his ethics he "ascribes too much to nature and
   leaves no room for grace; the doctrines taught by me," says he, "serve
   much rather to make clearly understood the difference between nature
   and grace, and especially the great help which the latter is to the
   former, so that consequently they are guides to grace;" the Christian
   religion offers more than world-wisdom can do; rather does man learn by
   this rational morality, that his natural powers do not suffice, and
   hence he perceives all the better the necessity and excellency of the
   grace which is offered to us in the Christian religion, and which
   supplies that which nature lacks. How it can be that the natural powers
   do not suffice, and how, on the presumption of such a lack of strength,
   the philosophical ethics of Wolf can yet be, independently, effectual
   in itself, we are not informed.

   Ethics has to do with the free actions of men as distinguished from the
   necessary ones; and freedom consists in the possibility of choice
   between several possible things. The condition of a man is perfect when
   his earlier and later conditions agree with each other, and all of them
   with the essence and nature of man., The free actions of man promote or
   diminish this perfection, that is, they are either good or bad. When,
   therefore, actions are to be judged according to their moral worth,
   then we must inquire what change they bring about in the condition of
   our body or soul. Hence free actions become good or evil in virtue of
   their effect; and as the effect follows from them necessarily and
   cannot fail, hence actions are good or evil in and of themselves, and
   are not made so simply by God's will; hence if it were possible that
   there were no God, and that the present inter-dependence of things
   could exist without him, still the free actions of men would
   nevertheless remain good or evil.--Here the per se correct
   ground-thought of the moral receives an external and therefore
   misleading application, inasmuch as the result of our actions is
   dependent on other powers than these actions themselves; only in an
   ideal and as yet not sin-perverted condition of humanity, would such a
   judging of the moral worth of actions from their result, hold good,
   though even then it would be certainly more appropriate to determine
   this worth from the essence of the action itself and not simply from
   its result. In this respect Wolf clings so fast to the merely-outward
   that he says: "Thus, he who is tempted to steal learns that stealing is
   wrong, because it is followed by the gallows." Equally one-sided is the
   contrasting of the goodness per se of an action and of the will of God.
   The general maxim of ethics is therefore this: " Do that which renders
   thee and thy condition, or that of others, more perfect; avoid that
   which makes it more imperfect;" this is a universal rule of nature.
   [This "or that of others" is only thrust in, and is not at all derived
   from the ground-thought; the dualism involved therein, and the possible
   contradiction, are in no manner reconciled.]--The sufficient motive of
   the will is the knowledge of the good; and it is impossible that one
   should not will a per se good action, when one only clearly comprehends
   it; hence when we do not will it, it is for no other reason than that
   we do not comprehend it." Likewise is the knowledge of evil the motive
   of non-willing or aversion, and hence it is likewise impossible that
   one should will a per se evil action when one clearly understands it.
   Hence all moral willing and doing of the good or of the evil rests
   absolutely on our knowing or non-knowing. True, man can indeed act
   contrary to his conscience, but this takes place only when, because of
   special circumstances, he regards the good as evil, or the evil as
   good, and hence, after all, from error. The ultimate end of all moral
   actions, and hence of our entire life, is the perfection of ourselves
   and of our condition, or happiness, which is consequently the highest
   good for man.

   Ethics proper, Wolf treats as the doctrine of duties. Duty is an action
   which conforms to law. Law is a rule to which we are bound to conform
   our free actions; it is either a natural, a divine, or a human law.
   Reason is the teacher of the law of nature; this law fully embraces the
   whole moral life, and is, for this life, sufficient and absolutely
   valid and unchangeable, for it rests on the harmonizing of our actions
   with our nature. But as this our nature is established by the divine
   creative will, hence the law of nature is at the same time also a
   divine law, an expression of the divine will, though this will is not
   to be conceived of as an arbitrary one, so that, for example, God's
   will might declare the per se good for evil, and the per se evil for
   good. The duties are: (1) duties of man toward himself, and more
   specifically, toward his understanding, toward his will, toward his
   body, and the duty in regard to our outward condition (that is, our
   social position); (2) duties toward God, and more specifically, love to
   God, fear and reverence, trust, prayer and thankfulness, and outward
   worship; (3) duties toward other men, and more specifically, toward
   friends and enemies, duties in regard to property, and duties in speech
   and in contracts. This general classification of duties became
   subsequently very usual.--Upon ethics is based natural right, which
   treats of the allowable, as ethics proper treats of the obligatory; all
   rights rest on duties. The ground-thought of right is: thou Inayest do
   whatever sustains and promotes the perfection of thy own condition and
   that of the condition of others, and thou mayest do nothing which is
   contrary thereto. In the further application of right to society, and
   hence as politics, the welfare of society is the norm of action.

   Wolfian ethics has manifestly, both in form and in contents, great
   defects. In respect to form, it may be reproached with a manifold
   commingling of empirical maxims with speculation; notions derived from
   experience are often simply analyzed and then used as bases for further
   inferences, and that, too, with the pretension of philosophical
   validity; also there is abundant philosophical dogmatism, inasmuch as
   the thoughts are very frequently not really developed in regular
   process from the ground-thought, but are only associated and joined
   with it. In respect to matter, there prevails throughout this ethics,
   despite all its monotheistic presuppositions, a naturalistic tendency;
   Wolf knows only the immediate natural existence of the moral spirit,
   but not the history thereof, that is, the life proper of the same. His
   ethics has a history of the spirit neither as its presupposition nor as
   its goal; there is created by the moral activity not a moral history of
   humanity, but only a state of the individual. Hence the question as to
   whether indeed the actual nature of man is not already in some respects
   a product of such a moral history of humanity,--whether or not it is a
   pure unchanged original nature,--falls outside of this circle of
   thought, and in fact remained unheeded by philosophical ethics, and
   hence also to a large degree by theological ethics, throughout the
   eighteenth and a part of the nineteenth century; and in this respect
   Wolf was, in fact, the forerunner of the modern Rationalistic school.
   And what he says of sinfulness, of divine grace and of Christianity, by
   way of guarding against this naturalistic ground-tendency, is rather
   mere personal good-will than a consequential result of his system. All
   real interest is directed here to the sufficient reason, and not to the
   end; there is lacking to morality and to history the vital heart-blood
   of free spiritual productive creation. Christianity can be, to this
   world-theory, at best only a higher revelation of the truth, a
   furthering of knowledge, but not an historical history-creating fact.
   Hence in the further theological development of this stand-point,
   Christianity constantly sunk more and more to a mere revealed system of
   morals, which, however, contained and could contain nothing other than
   the Wolfian doctrine itself. Positive contents proper, Wolf does not
   really give to the moral law; he does not rise beyond mere formal
   definitions. What the good is, in and of itself, we are not informed;
   we learn only that it stands in harmony with reason and makes us happy;
   hence it is embraced only in its relations to something else, but not
   in its inner contents.

   In the spirit of Wolf, though with some independence, Canz labored
   further, in Tübingen; his Disciplinae morales omnes, 1739, is an able
   survey of the entire ethical field as then known; more theological is
   his Instruction in the Duties of Christians, (1745, 4to., presenting
   ethics as "duty-imposing God-acquaintance" and prefacing the doctrine
   of duties simply by an essay on the four chief springs of all human
   action and omission, namely, the flesh, nature, reason, and the
   gracious workings of the Holy Spirit). Alexander Baumgarten (a brother
   of the noted theologian) perfected, in his Philosophia ethica (1740,
   1751), the Wolfian ethics, especially in formal respects; he places our
   duties toward God (as those which condition all the others) at the
   head.--G. F. Meier of Halle wrote, on the basis of Baumgarten's book, a
   fuller and more popular work: Philosophical Ethics (1753).--(The
   voluminous and superficial Eberhard appears in his Ethics of Reason
   (1781) merely as a feeble, barren imitator of Wolf.)

   Nearly contemporaneously with Wolf, had Thomasius (of Leipzig and
   Halle) presented ethics from the stand-point of mere common sense in a
   very popular form, [225] offering indeed many good observations, but
   containing neither precision of thought nor a really scientific
   development. "He places Christian ethics higher than philosophical, but
   conceives of the former very superficially; Aristotle and the schoolmen
   he despises and combats without understanding them. The essence of
   virtue is love, or the desire naturally inherent in man to unite
   himself to, and to remain in union with, that which the understanding
   recognizes as good; in this love lies blessedness, that is, repose of
   soul and absence of pain, as the highest good; love is irrational when
   it aims at vain, transitory, and hurtful things, or when it is too
   violent, or wills the impossible; from such love spring all the vices.
   General love to man, as the essence of morality, embraces five chief
   virtues: sociableness, truthfulness, modesty, forbearance, patience;
   self-love should rest only on love to man. The necessity of revelation,
   Thomasius recognizes; philosophy does not supply its place, but leads
   to it, in that it leads to self-acquaintance.

   Clear-headedly and with deep Christian knowledge, Christian August
   Crusius (of Leipzig, ob. 1776) opposed the Wolfian philosophy, but was
   abler in criticizing than in creating, and hence. of more limited
   influence than Wolf, ("Directions for Living Rationally," [226] etc.,
   1744; third edition, 1767). He declares himself very definitely against
   the determinism of Wolf; the human will is not absolutely determined by
   its knowledge, but remains, in relation thereto, free, and can act
   contrarily thereto; he appeals in proof thereof to the perfectly
   unambiguous evidence of consciousness, and to the full responsibility
   of man for his sins. The determinations of the will are indeed, as
   rational, not arbitrary and fortuitous, but have, on the contrary, a
   sufficient reason; but this reason is by no means a
   necessarily-determining one, but the will has always the possibility of
   acting contrarily even to a sufficient reason; and Crusius goes, in
   this respect, so far as to find perfect freedom only in holding that
   the will can determine itself as easily for the one course as for the
   other. All duties he considers as contained in our duty toward God, and
   hence he does not co-ordinate, but subordinates, them to this duty.
   Moral effort has indeed happiness and perfection for its goal, but it
   has its law in the divine will, which likewise aims thereat. Man's
   relation of dependence to his Creator directs him to make his entire
   life dependent on the holy will of God; our striving toward the
   rational God-willed goal, becomes truly moral only when it is the
   expression of loving obedience to the revealed divine will. Hence it is
   incorrect that the good is good per se even without reference to God's
   will; rather is it good simply because God wills it, though this divine
   willing is not irrational caprice, but a morally necessary act of his
   holy essence. Hence morality rests in its very essence on religion; and
   the moral law may not, as in Wolf's system, stand apart from the
   religious consciousness, but requires a free God-obeying course of
   acting answering to the divine will, and therefore also to the end of
   the perfection of the creature. A natural, though not absolutely
   sufficing manifestation of the divine will, is given in the conscience,
   which, however, does not, as with Wolf, simply form a theoretical
   judgment, but contains also at the same time a feeling of joy or
   anguish, and hence an impulse. Crusius separates prudence from the
   doctrine of morality proper, as the ability of finding, for rational
   ends, also the special appropriate means.--A more popular presentation
   of this view is contained in the so-long-esteemed, widely-read, and
   influential "Moral Lectures" [227] of Gellert (1770), which, however,
   are estimable more for their noble sentiments and warmth of feeling
   than for depth of thought; and which, in their rhetorically verbose and
   often dull and tedious manner could have made so great an impression
   only in an age which had lost all taste for strong food; discursive
   discussions on "the utility of health," etc., were then regarded as
   interesting reading. Gellert addresses himself more to the feelings
   than to the cognizing understanding, but the former are not embraced in
   Christian depth, but rather as mere feeble sentimentality.

   Since the middle of this century the taste for really philosophical
   thinking had been declining in Germany, in the precise measure in which
   the pretension to the name of "philosophical century" was put forward;
   instead of a spiritually-vigorous, constantly-progressing development
   of thought, we find, for the most part, only a self-complacent
   superficial criticising tendency and arbitrarily-brought-together,
   ungrounded assertions and observations, derived more from outward
   experience than from reason, and often delighting in rhetorical
   bombast.--The voluminous Feder of Göttingen (Prackt. Philos., 1776;
   Unters. üb. d. menschlichen Willen, 1779-85), reminds indeed often of
   Wolf by his pedantic minuteness, but not by depth of thought; and he
   bases himself in the main on the empiricism of Locke.--Garve, who was
   highly esteemed by his contemporaries, derived the most of his matter
   from the English moralists, and limited his own moral thoughts to
   annotations on other writers (Cicero), and to disconnected but clear
   and elegantly written, though neither profound nor ingenious,
   dissertations.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [217] Enchiridion militis christ.; Matrimonii christ. institt.;
   Institt. principis christ.; and others.

   [218] Opp., Bas. 1567, 3 t.

   [219] Manuductio ad Stoicam philosophiam, 2d ed., 1610.

   [220] Ethica Aristotelica, etc., Selenoburgi, s. a., 4to.,--later:
   Cosmopoli, 1681, 4to.

   [221] De incertitudine et vanitate scientiarum, 1527 (?) then in Col.,
   1531.

   [222] In various essays, especially in the preface to Cod. juris
   diplom., 1693; Gubrauer: Leibnitz; 1842, i, p. 226 sqq.

   [223] Vernünft. Gedanken. v. d. Menschen Thun u. Lassen (1720); more
   elaborate is: Philosoophia moralis s. Ethica, methodo scientifico
   pertractata (1750), both works forming the first part of a whole which
   he presented in his Philos. prac. univ. (1738), the second part of
   which embraces the doctrine of society or politics; also in his Jus
   naturae (1740) there is much ethical matter.

   [224] Introduction to the 2d ed. of his Moral.

   [225] Von der Kunst vernünftig. u. tugenhaft zu LIEBEN, etc., 1710; Von
   der Artzenei wider die unvernünftige Liebe, 1704; comp. Fülleborn:
   Beitr. z. Gesch. d. Phil, 1791, iv.

   [226] Anweisung vernünftig zu leben

   [227] Moralische Vorlesungen.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLI.

   In England and France an anti-Christian tendency gave rise to a
   progressively-degenerating moralism, which,--resting on an idealess
   empiricism, and, though vigorously resisted, yet maintaining a rising
   influence for a long time,--based itself in part on a superficial
   deism, but also in part, and more consequentially, advanced to pure
   atheism and materialism, and exalted into a moral law the lowest form
   of Epicurean self-seeking. But it was especially reserved to the French
   mind to draw the ultimate consequences of these premises, and to seek
   in the wildest demoralization the highest civilization and
   "philosophy," and, through a destruction-loving dissolution of all
   moral consciousness in the higher classes (a dissolution which swept
   over devastatingly into the un-German circles of the German literary
   world) to prepare the way for that general convulsion in Europe which
   at length attained, only through horrors and anarchy, to some presence
   of mind and to some degree of calm. English moralism lingered in
   general in a state of capricious wavering between the principle of
   happiness and the principle of spiritual perfection, between the
   principle of subjective eudemonism and the principle of objective
   spiritualism. The reaction of this freethinking on Germany shows itself
   mostly in the superficial utilitarian morality of the period of
   self-styled "illuminism."

   Quite otherwise than in Germany was philosophical ethics shaped in
   England and France. While in Germany, notwithstanding the deep
   spiritual and moral disorder consequent upon the Thirty Years' war,
   there prevailed, for a long while still, a predominantly Christian
   spirit, (which remained proof against the. Spinozistic Pantheism, and
   sought to develop philosophy in harmony with Christianity, and only
   gradually and at a late hour was enervated by French freethinking
   through the un-German culture of the higher classes), in England the
   religious contests had resulted in a deep spiritual laxity and in a
   growing aversion to Christianity and to the spiritual in general. The
   unspiritual empiricism of Bacon and Locke seconded this superficial
   empirical turning-away to the immediately visible and prosaic reality
   of the world. At first it was regarded as a progress to disregard the
   doctrinal contents of Christianity and to insist only on its morals;
   then it followed very naturally that this morality, as divorced from
   its doctrinal basis, should be divorced also from its historical
   presuppositions in general, and be derived only from the consciousness
   of the natural man, and that religion in general, as in contrast to the
   Christian religion, should be conceived simply as a system of moralism,
   over which then, not as a foundation but as a protecting
   superstructure, a superficial deism was constructed;--or, indeed, this
   tendency was followed out further, and men rejected also this deism,
   and contented themselves with the superficial morality of individual
   self-love; and it must be regarded as a real progress (as in contrast
   to this spiritual superficiality), when clearer thinkers skeptically
   undermined also this pretended natural religion and natural morality,
   and insisted on the vanity of all human knowledge.

   Bacon of Verulcam, though not himself constructing an ethical system,
   opened, by his empiricism (which opposed all previous philosophy, and
   according to which there is absolutely no knowledge à priori, but only
   such as springs from immediate and primarily sensuous experience), a
   current of thought which was dangerous to the Christian world-theory,
   although he himself did not in the least oppose the Christian
   consciousness, but rather placed Christian faith above all
   philosophical knowledge. However, he was not clearly conscious of the
   tendency of his fundamental thoughts. On this basis, Locke (ob. 1704)
   subsequently developed a system of philosophy which attained,
   especially in England, to a wide-reaching influence, but which is in
   fact, properly speaking, the very opposite of all speculation. True
   knowledge arises only from the experience of our sensuous existence;
   general notions are not the first but the last; the human mind per se
   has and produces neither notions nor ideas, but is rather a tabula rasa
   upon which the experience of the objective world first writes its
   characters; and it is only through impressions from objective existence
   that the spirit attains, through abstraction, comparison, and analysis,
   to ideas. Out of this empiricism, however harmless and pretentionless
   it might seem at first examination, was destined logically to result a
   system of religion and morality essentially different from the
   Christian world-theory; and historical facts realized this logical
   sequence. It sweeps away, in fact, at a single blow all ideal contents
   of the scientific and religious consciousness, in so far as these lie
   outside of sensuous experience. But experience furnishes not ideas, but
   only impressions; and at furthest one attains only to abstracted
   notions, which, however, have no general and unconditional validity;
   for the ideas of the divine and eternal, there is no place. But man
   must have something ideal; if he has it not in and above himself, so
   that he has simply to accept it in his rational self-consciousness and
   in religious faith, then he must have it before himself,--must
   practically and productively create it, in action; the ideal is indeed
   not yet real, but it is to become so. It is consequently, at least, a
   presentiment of reason which turned this idealess empiricism toward
   ethics. But precisely this one-sided moralism shows most evidently, the
   incorrectness of the ground-principles; an idealess morality sinks at
   once to a morality of the most ignoble self-seeking and materialism. A
   moral consciousness is, according to this system, derived only from
   direct experience; what is good I know only from the fact that it makes
   upon me a pleasant impression, affects me, as a particular individual,
   with the feeling of pleasure; individual happiness becomes the measure
   of the moral, and thus Epicureanism has again attained to validity.

   Already before the more complete development of the Baconian empiricism
   by Locke, Thomas Hobbes had drawn the natural and clear consequences of
   the same. [228] Only what we experience is true; but we can experience
   only through the senses, and hence only the sensuous; only this is true
   and real, even in man himself. Human action has not a purpose, for a
   purpose is a mere idea without reality, but only a ground, namely, in
   his sensuously-material reality, and, in virtue of this ground, it is
   also fully determined; hence the moral law is in no respect different
   from the law of nature. Good or evil is the agreeable or disagreeable
   state of the individual person, and hence is determined by our
   immediate feelings, and has in no sense a general significancy beyond
   the individual being; what is good for me is not so for another; hence,
   in regard to the good there can be no general decision; every one
   determines this according to his feelings and experience; every one
   strives, and rightly too, to have the most possible feelings of
   pleasure, and in this he is rational and moral. Self-love in this
   sense, namely, of referring every thing to one's own enjoyment of the
   agreeable, is the highest moral law; each has a right to all. From this
   it follows, indeed, that through mere morality no harmonious life of
   men in common is possible, but that, on the contrary, all strive
   against each other,--a war of all against all; but this leads not to a
   proof of the unreality of the moral law, but only to the necessity of
   the State; but also the state, because of the lack of a
   universally-valid objective norm of morality, can rest only on the
   individual will of the strong. The unlimited despotism of a single
   person is alone capable of bringing order and harmony into the chaos of
   individual strivings; and all individuals must submit themselves
   unconditionally to the will of this ruler,--a will which knows no other
   law than its own pleasure, and which consequently is always right, let
   the ruler decree what he will, and which is for all the citizens of
   that state the unassailable law and conscience, and which has
   consequently to determine what shall constitute right and morality.
   Also all religion in the state depends exclusively on the will of the
   ruler; and he alone has to determine what shall be believed and not
   believed; no one has a right, in the state, to hold any thing else for
   good and true in the moral and religious sphere, than what the king
   declares as good and true; sin is only a contradiction to the king's
   will. Whatever is not by him prescribed or forbidden, is morally
   indifferent.--We cannot deny to this system full consequentiality, and
   the unabashed nakedness of the same is at least more honest than those
   more recent views, which seek to bemantle the very same ground-thoughts
   with more moral forms and disguises.

   In express antagonism to this materialism, Cumberland made general
   benevolence the principle of morality; [229] but he rendered it
   difficult for himself to refute the consequential Hobbes, by the fact
   that he placed himself essentially upon the stand-point of sensuous
   experience, and undertook therefrom to rise to higher religious and
   moral ideas. He attains thus to the principle which he makes the
   foundation of all morality, namely, that the striving for the common
   good of the entire system of rational creatures leads to the good of
   all the single parts of the same, whereof our own happiness constitutes
   a portion. Hence the chief end of moral effort is not one's own but the
   general good, although the former is contained in the latter. This
   moral law, to the observance of which man is obligated by nature
   itself, is especially seconded by religion, and sanctified by the will
   of God, as Lawgiver, who associates with the law rewards and
   punishments. But the idea of God is not already pre-supposed in the
   moral consciousness, but this idea pre-supposes this
   consciousness.--Hobbes was opposed from a stand-point diametrically
   opposed to this, and related to that of Plato, and hence also more
   effectually and consequentially, by Cudworth, [230] who entirely
   rejected the empirical basis of the moral, and appealed to original
   moral ideas given in reason itself. He assails materialism and atheism
   in a learned and ingenious manner, and declares the moral ideas which
   transcend all experience, and which can never be adequately explained
   by experience, as a self-revelation of God himself, impressed upon
   finite reason; and in his opposition to empiricism, he goes so far as
   to hold that the moral idea stands even above the will of God, so that
   this will does not determine the good, but is determined by the per se
   valid idea of the good as existing in God. A complete moral system
   Cudworth did not carry out; and his influence was less extensive,
   because of the prevalent tendency of the English mind toward empirical
   reality, than it deserved to be.--Basing himself upon Cudworth's
   theory, Henry More presented a brief but comprehensive treatise on
   philosophical ethics. [231] (The end of morality is the perfection, and
   therefore the happiness, of man, which rests essentially on virtue;
   sensuousness has no right in itself, but stands under the dominion of
   moral reason; the antecedent condition of morality is the freedom of
   the will, as itself not determined by any thing, not even by
   knowledge.) In a similar spirit, Samuel Clarke (1708) insisted on the
   view, that creatures are for each other. Morality consists in
   conducting one's self, by virtue of free rationality, in harmony with
   the universe, and in the proper relation to one's self and to the rest
   of the world, even as irrational creatures do from inner impulse. This
   relation cannot be arbitrarily fixed by man, but is fixed by the nature
   itself of things, and man is morally to conform himself to this
   relation; thereby he realizes his happiness.

   Locke endeavored to avoid the inferences which Hobbes had drawn from
   the ground-thought of empiricism, at least in the moral sphere. [232]
   Inborn moral ideas, or ideas that lie in the essence of reason itself
   and in the conscience, do not exist; all moral laws are derived simply
   from the observation of real life,--are inferred from the benefit which
   certain modes of action have for the well-being of the actor or of
   others, and hence may, under different circumstances, be very
   different; and the actual differences, nay, even contradictions, of
   moral views that do exist, prove that these views do not lie in reason
   itself. It is only through education and dominant custom that moral
   opinions rise into pretended fixed moral principles,--into laws of
   conscience; there is no innate primitive conscience; the approval or
   disapproval of a particular organized society is the sole sufficient
   measure of virtue and vice. Here, however, it is natural that such
   modes of action as are useful not merely to the subject himself, but
   also to others and to the community, should also be regarded in general
   as praiseworthy, and hence virtuous, so that for a certain circle of
   actions, there may indeed be found an essential agreement of moral
   judgment, and hence a certain natural law lying in the nature of the
   thing, which is to be regarded as also God's law. However, Locke
   derives this law not from the nature of the moral thought itself, but
   in fact, simply from public opinion, and hence from experience, and he
   rises only through inferences from facts of experience to more general
   notions, which, however, have by no means a validity absolutely and per
   se. Hence the moral idea does not transcend reality,--does not so much
   say what should be, as rather what already is; a moral judgment upon
   the actual moral consciousness of a society is, according to Locke's
   theory, impossible; for not the idea is the measure for reality, but
   reality is the measure for the idelt. The question whether indeed the
   condition and the moral consciousness of society themselves might not
   be perverted and untrue, is entirely out of place,--is indeed
   absurd,--as it would assume to measure moral reality by an idea
   independent thereof; the moral consciousness of society is always
   right.--The limiting of these far-reaching assertions by the
   interposing of a superficially-conceived divine revelation is without
   any sufficient foundation in Locke's system.--The Lockian view has
   indeed, as compared with that of Hobbes, a somewhat more respectable
   tone, but it has on the other hand less inner consequentiality. The
   thought of self-love, or, more properly, self-seeking, is at least
   intelligible and clear; but the taking, as a basis, the judgment of
   society must be regarded as entirely ungrounded, and is in reality
   utterly meaningless, inasmuch as, in every society, moral views the
   very opposite of each other are represented, so that consequently the
   individual is, after all, referred to his own private judgment, which,
   as it rests upon no per se valid idea, can in fact be based only on the
   feeling of pleasure or displeasure.

   The consequences of this unspiritual ethics showed themselves very
   soon. The position of Wollaston [233] is as yet moderate, but for that
   reason all the more indefinite and unclear. He reduces all religion to
   morality; religion is only the obligation to do the good and avoid the
   evil. The good is identical with the true; every action is good which
   gives expression to a true proposition, that is, which actually
   recognizes that a thing is as it really is, and which hence corresponds
   to the nature or end of a thing; things should be treated as being what
   they are. The destination of man himself is happiness; but happiness is
   pleasure,--the consciousness of something agreeable, of that which is
   in harmony with the nature of man; hence true pleasure springs only
   from that which corresponds to the destination of man, and consequently
   to reason. Morality or religion is, therefore, the seeking of happiness
   through the realizing of truth and of reason.--The next advancement of
   this tendency consisted in this, that the thought of happiness was
   fixed more definitely in view. Man wills by his very nature to be
   happy, that is, he has inclinations the fulfillment of which renders
   him happy. These inclinations man does not give to himself, but he has
   them from nature,--finds them in a definite form existing within
   himself; they are the norms of man's actions, that is, he is good when
   he follows his natural inclinations. This advance to Epicurean ethics
   is made by the plausible and fashionable writer, Lord Shaftesbury.
   [234] Every action springs from an inner determinateness of the actor,
   from a proclivity or propensity; hence the moral worth of an action
   lies essentially in this propensity; the propensity aims at that which
   gives pleasure, and avoids that which gives displeasure; that which by
   its presence gives pleasure, and by its absence displeasure, is good;
   the opposite thereof is evil; as objects of effort, the former is the
   good, the latter the evil; between these there lies the sphere of the
   indifferent. The decision as to good and evil is not arbitrary; but
   that is good which corresponds to the. peculiarity of a being, and, for
   that very reason, gives pleasure to the being experiencing it.
   Happiness is the greatest possible sum of satisfactions or experiences
   of pleasure; spiritual pleasure-impressions stand higher, however, than
   the merely sensuous; and the generally-useful or benevolent
   propensities are, in turn, the better among the spiritual ones, for
   they duplicate the enjoyment by the participation of others; and they
   do not stand in contradiction to our own personal good, because they
   relate to the whole of which we ourselves form a part. Hence true
   morality consists in the striving after the proper relation and harmony
   of the individual and of the whole; the one is not to be merged into
   the other, for man is just as much an individual as he is a member of
   the whole, and self-love is peer se just as legitimate as the
   propensity of general benevolence. Hence virtue consists in a
   rationally-calculated. weighing out of the measure of the reciprocally
   limiting propensities, that is, in preserving a proper equilibrium. The
   decision in this case is given primarily by our innate feeling for good
   and evil, by the moral sense or instinct,--not taken in the sense of a
   conscious thought, but of a feeling, a feeling of pleasure in the
   presence of the good, and of displeasure in the presence of the evil.
   This moral sense is developed by exercise and reflection into a moral
   judgment. Virtue is indeed independent of religion, and even atheism
   does not directly endanger it; but yet it receives its proper force and
   life only in the belief in a good, all-wise and justly-governing
   God.--Shaftesbury endeavors to rise above the fortuitousness of the
   determination of the moral in Hobbes and Locke, and to attain to a per
   se valid determination of the same; but after all, he also finds the
   deciding voice only in the fortuitous feeling of pleasure or
   displeasure; his empiricism is essentially subjective. That, as
   differing from Locke, he regards the moral feeling as innate, does not
   yet guarantee its objective truth, and, at all events, the objection of
   Locke holds good against it, namely, the actually-existing diversity of
   moral views. But this moral feeling is not a moral idea; it has no
   contents, but utters itself only in each separate case, when it is
   stimulated by an action or an object, even as a piano gives a note only
   when it is struck; otherwise this feeling is silent and dead, whereas
   an idea is living and conscious even in the absence of any reality
   affecting it; this subjective feeling itself is moreover incapable of
   being tested by a per se and absolutely valid idea.

   While Collins, the eulogist of Epicurus, a disciple and friend of
   Locke, and the first who called himself Freethinker, denied the freedom
   of the will and regarded human action as absolutely determined by the
   influences surrounding us, Hutcheson (of Glasgow) endeavored to rectify
   the moral system of Shaftesbury by assuming good-will toward others, in
   contradistinction to self-love, as the contents proper of the innate
   moral sense. To the purely empirical foundation of ethics, however, he
   held fast in his "System of Moral Philosophy" (1755). We find that
   certain actions in men, even when these men are not affected by the
   consequences of the same, meet with approbation or disapprobation; from
   this it follows that the ground of this judgment is not personal
   advantage or disadvantage, but a natural moral sense, which perceives
   the moral irrespective of personal interest, and has therein pleasure,
   and which therefore also, equally disinterestedly, impels to moral
   action. This inborn moral sense is not a conscious idea, but an
   immediate feeling which differs from the interested self-feeling,--just
   as we have an immediate pleasure in a beautiful, regular form, without
   being conscious of the mathematical laws thereof, or having any benefit
   therefrom. The moral approbation and striving are consequently also all
   the purer the less our personal interest is involved in the case. The
   selfish and the benevolent propensities mutually exclude each other,
   for benevolence begins only where personal interest ceases. Therefore
   we have to make our choice between the two propensities, and as the
   benevolent one is the purer, hence the moral proper consists
   exclusively in it. Virtue is not practiced for the sake of a benefit or
   an enjoyment, but purely out of inner pleasure in it; our nature has an
   inner innate tendency to promote the welfare of others without having
   any regard therein to personal benefit. This benevolence toward others
   is the essence of all the virtues; for even our care for our own
   welfare is exercised in order to preserve ourselves for the good of
   others; the degree of virtue rises in proportion to the happiness
   procured for others, and to the number of persons benefited by us. The
   preliminarily-ignored moral relation of man to God, Hutcheson afterward
   brings--not without violence--into his system, by holding that the
   moral sense leads also to the union of the moral creature with the
   Author of all perfection.--The fundamental thoughts of this ethical
   system are indeed well meant, but they are scientifically weak and
   arbitrary; from the Christian view they are far remote, for the
   self-complacent mirroring of self in the pretendedly pure virtuousness
   of one's own benevolent heart, and the easy contenting of self in a
   certain circle of benevolent outward actions, are, in one direction,
   quite as dangerous for correct self-knowledge, as is the system of pure
   self-seeking in the other.--A related system, but one manifoldly
   complicated in unclear originality, was developed by Adam Smith (1759,
   and later). He emphasized, more strongly still, the element of feeling
   for others in the innate moral sense, and conceived of it as the
   feeling of sympathy, in virtue of which we share in natural
   participation in the joy and in the pains of others, and strive for the
   participation and harmony of others with our own feelings and actions;
   in this harmony we find the good, and in the opposite the evil. The
   morality of our action we recognize by the fact that it is adapted to
   awaken the sympathies of others; a perfectly isolated man could not
   possibly have a moral judgment as to himself, because he would lack the
   criterion, the mirror. Hence man must always so act that others not
   standing in the same fortuitous relations, that is, impartial persons,
   can sympathize with him. The obscure conviction that the moral
   consciousness must rest on a per se valid idea, brings the empiric to
   this strange and certainly very difficult and inadequate procedure,
   which, however, though expressly intended to throw off the
   accidentality of individual being, yet cannot, after all, get rid of
   it.

   Also David Hume treats of the subject of ethics, though with less
   acumen than that wherewith, in the sphere of religion and of
   theoretical philosophy, he skeptically undermines the certainty of all
   knowledge. [235] While, in the field of philosophy, he ingeniously
   exposed the feeble superficiality of the prevalent empiricism, he yet
   hesitated to introduce his skepticism, with like consequentiality into
   the practical sphere of morals. A real science of the moral there
   cannot be, in the opinion of Hume, seeing that the moral is not an
   object of the cognizing understanding, but only of mere feeling or
   sensation. The ultimate end of all action is happiness; but that which
   renders happy can be determined only by sensation; hence a sense, or
   tact, or feeling innate in all men, decides as to good and evil, in
   that the good excites a pleasant, and the evil an unpleasant feeling.
   Hence we must learn by way of pure observation what actions violate, or
   answer to, the moral feeling; and we find, now, that the useful excites
   moral approbation, and more particularly, that which is useful to the
   community. General and necessary moral ideas there are none; and even
   the moral feeling is very different in different nations; hence moral
   conceptions have always only a varying worth and rest essentially upon
   custom. The obligation to virtue rests on the fact that in virtue there
   is furnished the greatest guarantee for actual happiness; and also the
   working for the good of others reacts in the end upon our own good.
   Thus Hume coincides essentially with Locke. That he regards suicide as
   allowable is easily explainable from his ground-thoughts.--By means of
   a feeble and unfounded eclecticism, Adam Ferguson (of Edinburgh) [236]
   endeavors to avoid the one-sidedness of other moralists, but only
   involves himself in worse confusion. To the moral he gives three
   fundamental laws: the law of self-preservation, the law of community or
   society, and the "law of estimation," (the latter relating to the per
   se excellent),--without reducing this threefoldhess to any kind of
   clear unity. He attains to an unpredjudiced consideration of the moral
   in detail only at the expense of the consequentiality of his system.

   The ultimate consequences of empiricism were not drawn by the
   systematic moralists, but by other so-called Freethinkers who wrote
   more for the general public. Such was the case especially with the most
   influential among them, Lord Bolingbroke, the chief representative of
   deism (ob. 1751), [237] who declared Plato to be half crazy, and all
   philosophy proper to be mere narrow-mindedness. The moral law is, as
   the law of nature, clearly revealed to all men through the observation
   of existence. All morality rests on self-love; this law incites to
   marriage, to the family, and to society, and to the duties that result
   therefrom. The end of all effort is the greatest possible happiness,
   that is, the greatest possible number of pleasure-sensations. But this
   natural law teaches Bolingbroke some very strange things; shamefulness,
   e. g., is only an aspiration of man to be something better than the
   brute, or it is a mere social prejudice; polygamy is not immoral; on
   the contrary, it harmonizes with the law of nature, because it effects
   a, greater increase of the race; wedlock-communion is disallowable only
   between parents and children; all other degrees of relationship admit
   of it, for the highest law and end of marriage is propagation. The
   pretentious superficiality of this writer obtained for him in the
   "cultured" world the highest repute.

   English moralism checked itself, for the most part, at half-ways; it
   found as yet too much moral consciousness alive among the masses, not
   to feel bound in general to hold fast still to a respectable code of
   morality, even though at the cost of the consequentiality of the
   system. In France, on the contrary, the demoralization had made
   sufficient progress among the cultivated classes to be enabled to throw
   off all reserve, also in the sphere of theory. The scanty remnants of
   religious and moral contents still retained in the freethinking ethics
   of Englishmen, had to be thrown out, in the further fermenting process,
   as discoloring dregs, in order that the unmingled wisdom-beverage of
   the natural man might attain to its life-giving purity; deistic
   moralism had to pass over into atheistic materialism. The French ethics
   of frivolity became, also for German ears, a sweet-sounding music; and
   French parasites at the little German ducal courts charged themselves
   with the task of distilling the decoction of trans-Rhenane moral
   notions also into the lower strata of the German population.

   Shaftesbury and Hutcheson had endeavored to, secure the innate moral
   feeling against the threatening overthrow of all morality, by placing
   over against the feeling for self, a feeling for the social whole,
   either as of like worth, or as of a still higher validity. This course
   was arbitrary, and not grounded in their fundamental principle; for
   every man is, as an individual, the nearest to himself. And a feeling
   inborn in me relates, after all, first and last, always to myself; as a
   merely natural being inspired by no higher idea, I feel for others only
   in so far as I am myself interested in them. Feeling clings absolutely
   to the subject, and egotism is the inner essence of any natural moral
   feeling which is not willing to be dominated by an idea. In order to
   this further development of ethics, there was need of a still further
   carrying out of empiricism as a theory. This we meet with in Condillac,
   a French nobleman, an abbot and prince-educator,--one of the most
   superficial and, therefore, most preferred authors of the middle of the
   eighteenth century.--All knowledge rests on sensuous impressions; man
   is acted upon and filled with spiritual contents, simply as a machine,
   through outward impressions; of all the senses the sense of touch is
   the highest; it alone gives us certainty as to the objective reality of
   things, and raises man above the brute. with whom in other respects he
   is essentially identical. The pleasure and displeasure of impressions
   work desire and repugnance, and hence awaken and determine the will. It
   is incredible what stupid absurdities Condillac offers in the name of
   metaphysics; and it is a significant index of the spirit of the age,
   that he was one of the most influential and fêted writers of France.
   The ethics of this world-theory was easily inferred, and was pronounced
   with open boldness. Long previously Gassendi (of Paris, ob. 1655) had
   presented the satisfaction of desire as the end of human life, this
   satisfying is rational when it is orderly, natural, and not excessive;
   and it effects peace of heart and painlessness of body. He recommended,
   consequentially enough, the doctrine of Epicurus as the highest
   wisdom.--The full and clear consequence of empiricism, however, was
   drawn by Helvetius, who expressly based his doctrine on the, by him,
   highly esteemed theory of Locke. As an affluent gentleman of leisure,
   and living only for his pleasures, he became greatly renowned by his
   work, De l'esprit (1758), throughout the luxurious fashionable circles
   of Europe. His book was proscribed in France, but all the more
   circulated throughout Europe; and the author, in his travels to
   different courts, especially the German ones, was fêted as a great
   philosopher. His second more important work, (a further development of
   the first one,) De l'homme, appeared only after his death (1772). The
   highly-colored and daring tone of his writings, with their rich setting
   of wit, and of indelicate anecdotes, furnishes a clear image of the
   then prevalent spirit of the higher classes of cultivated Europe.--All
   thoughts, according to Helvetius, spring from sensuous perceptions, and
   our knowledge extends only so far as the senses extend; of any thing
   super-sensuous, and hence also of God, we know nothing. The motives to
   activity are essentially the passions, which spring from our
   inclination to pleasure and our aversion to displeasure. The
   fundamental stimulus of all moral activity is self-love, the expression
   of which is, in fact, the passions; nothing great is accomplished
   without great passion; he who is not passionate is stupid. As, now, all
   thoughts rest on sensuous impressions, so rest also all self-love and
   all passion, and hence all morality, on the impulses of sensuous
   pleasure; and even the decision as to truth is entirely dependent on
   the interest of the self-loving subject. Should the case arise, says
   Helvetius, that it would be more advantageous for me to regard the part
   as greater than the whole, then I would in fact assume this to be the
   case. The good, or the moral, is neither an absolutely valid idea, nor
   is it any thing arbitrarily assumed, but the determination as to it
   rests in the experience of the individual; but experience teaches that
   each regards as good that which is useful to him; and consequently each
   judges of the morality of actions simply according to his own interest;
   hence the best actions would be such as corresponded to the interest of
   all men; but there are no such actions. Hence we must limit our view;
   and, on closer examination, we find to be truly good that which
   promotes the interest not merely of the individual but of our nation;
   the political virtue is the highest, and the political transgression,
   the highest sin; that which does not contribute to the public good of
   the nation, as, for example, the so-called religious virtues, is not a
   virtue, and what does not conflict therewith is not a sin; virtues
   which profit nothing must be regarded as virtues of delusion, and be
   discarded. Hence, true ethics has its norm essentially in the civil
   law-book and in public utility; that which lies outside of these is,
   for the most part, morally indifferent; when it is useful to the public
   weal, even inhumanity is just. The motive to moral activity remains,
   even in this so narrowly limited sphere, self-love; the thought of
   doing the good for the good's sake, is antiquated and exploded. To
   sacrifice my own private advantage to that of the public, I am under no
   obligation; rather must I seek in the best manner possible to combine
   the two. When any one helps an unfortunate, out of compassion, this is
   only self-love, for he simply aims to rid himself of the sight of
   misery, which is unpleasant to him. Ethics is utterly fruitless and
   vain so long as it does not definitely regard personal interest, and
   hence sensuous pleasure and the avoidance of sensuous pain, as the
   highest principle of morality; nothing is forbidden but what causes us
   pain; with religion, ethics has nothing whatever to do. Morality is
   therefore also, at different times and under different relations,
   essentially different; there is no crime which under some
   circumstances--(when it should be useful)--would not also be right.
   True, the vicious man seeks also his own advantage, and the only
   trouble in the matter is that he deceives himself as to the means
   thereto; hence, he is to be pitied because of his error, but not to be
   despised. The fact that among all nations, some actions are regarded as
   virtuous which offer no profit whatever for this life, is simply a
   hurtful delusion. As self-interest is the ground of all virtue, hence
   it is also entirely legitimate that the state should stimulate its
   citizens to obedience by rewards and punishments; in fact, it thereby
   hits upon the solely correct moral motives to the good; rewards and
   punishments are the gods which create virtue. All statesmanship
   consists in awakening the self-love and self-interest of men, and in
   thereby stimulating them to virtue.

   The intellectual revolution--represented by great names--made sweeping
   advances in France and also in the fashionable world servilely
   dependent on France, at the courts of the rest of Europe, and
   especially of Germany,. and had already long since reached its ultimate
   results, before the political revolution enabled also the lower classes
   to speak their word in the same sense. It was fashionable at this
   period to designate by the word "esprit" (as the privilege of the
   giddy, freethinking world) that which was subsequently called
   "revolution" among the great masses, and which was, in fact, simply the
   consequence of the former. Every thing which hitherto had passed as
   philosophy, (with the exception of the Epicurean), was regarded as
   nonsense; the most stupid superficiality, provided only that it
   ridiculed sacred things, passed as philosophy; wit and frivolous
   fancies took the place of earnest science. The "philosophical" century
   sank, in the appreciation of really philosophical thought, deeper than
   even the earlier and as yet barbarous Middle Ages had sunk. The higher
   the encomiums they heaped upon what they called "spirit," so much the
   more utter became the spiritual vacuity; men extolled reason more
   pretentiously than ever, and yet they placed in her temple, as goddess,
   a public woman. Rousseau and Voltaire passed as the profoundest
   thinkers of all ages; their spiritual triumphs and attainments were
   unparalleled, and Voltaire's renown transcended in glory all renown
   ever heaped upon an author. The history of the human mind has no second
   century to refer to in which un-reason dominated with such complete
   omnipotence.

   Jean Jacques Rousseau produced indeed no system of ethics, but he
   exerted in the sphere of moral opinion an influence such as no author
   before or after him ever exerted, and felt even up to the present
   day,--not indeed because he uttered deep thoughts, but because he gave
   expression to what lay in the spirit of the age,--himself an utterly
   ungenuine character--under the form of a severe moralist undermining
   all morality, under the form of earnest thought bidding defiance to all
   philosophy and science, under the form of a censorious sage, in
   hermit-like seclusion from the world, preparing soft cushions for the
   vices of the "cultured" great. And precisely in this his peculiar
   character he chimed in with the tastes and desires of the age; he
   simply made, in the dike of the as yet somewhat cramped current of the
   age, the little breach through which its pent-up waters dispersed
   themselves over the low-lands so as subsequently, as morasses, to
   exhale the pestilential miasma of revolution. Of scientific
   ground-thoughts there can in Rousseau be no question; bold assertions
   and rhetorical phrases take almost every-where the place of scientific
   demonstration. The writings of Locke exerted upon him the greatest
   influence; sensuous experience is also for him the source of all ideas.
   His moral views receive their proper commentary in his utterly immoral
   life. His Contrat social (1761) became the theoretical basis of the
   French Revolution; his narrow-minded sophistical work, Emile (1762) had
   an immeasurable and bewildering influence on education, and is yet
   to-day the catechism of all un-Christian schemes of education.
   Rousseau's religion of nature, as he called it, is a shallow idealess
   deism grouped around the three thoughts: God, virtue, and immortality,
   in high sounding rhetorical phrase. He bases morality upon the natural
   conscience, which, as a direct feeling for the moral, renders
   unnecessary all instruction and all science as to the moral, and guides
   man with unerring certainty. All immorality springs simply from
   "civilization," and from perverted education; true education consists
   in non-educating. Let the child be simply let alone in its naturalness;
   let it be guarded against perverting influences, and then it will
   spontaneously develop itself as normally as a tree in a good soil. In
   the nature of man there lies nothing evil whatever; all natural
   impulses are good; every child is by nature still just as good as the
   first man was in coming from the hands of the Creator. The sole inborn
   passion is self-love, and this is good. The child should learn every
   thing through personal experience, and nothing through obedience; the
   words "obey" and "command" must be erased from its dictionary, as also
   the words "duty" and obligation;" the child must by all means be kept
   in the belief that it is its own lord, and that its educator is
   subordinate to it. Make the child strong, and it will be good; for all
   defects, the educator alone is to blame. The sole moral instruction for
   the child is: "Do wrong to no one;" of love and religion there should,
   in education, be no question whatever. Instruction should by no means
   be imparted before the twelfth year, and even after this period only at
   the desire of the pupil; at twelve years it should yet be incapable of
   distinguishing its right hand from its left. It should never believe or
   do any thing on the mere word of another, but must always do simply
   what it has found to be good from personal experience. The end of this
   "inactive" method of education, as Rousseau himself designates it, is
   the end of human life, namely, freedom; but true freedom consists in
   this, that we wish nothing other than what we can do or obtain; and in
   this case we will also do nothing other than what pleases us; and this
   is always the right. Hence the essence of all morality is the giving
   free scope to our natural propensities. The highest moral law is; "seek
   thine own highest welfare with the least possible detriment to others."
   Christianity is the natural enemy of true morality and of human
   society, for it desires the absolute purity of human nature,--directs
   man away from the earthly, and preaches only servitude and tyranny.
   These were sweet words for the ears of the great multitude, and they
   did not die away unheeded, but found enthusiastic welcome.--Although
   the almost apotheosized prince of the "philosophical" century,
   Voltaire, whose pretended philosophy rests almost exclusively on Locke,
   wrote both moral phrases and un-moral poems, yet in neither case has he
   produced any thing peculiar or original, much less philosophical,
   notwithstanding his frequent allusion to his "metaphysics." Morality,
   he repeats time and again in the strongest affirmations, is entirely
   independent of religious faith,--rests upon a natural innate impulse,
   and is consequently in all men and in all ages, so soon as they use
   their reason, uniform and the same. [238] Virtue or vice, the morally
   good or evil, is always and every-where that which is either useful or
   hurtful to society; incest between father and daughter may, under
   circumstances, be allowable, and even a duty, as, for example, when a
   single family constitutes an isolated colony; falsehoods uttered out of
   a good purpose are legitimate, and the same holds good of almost every
   thing that is in ordinary cases unallowable. Divinely-revealed moral
   laws there are none; but a certain benevolence toward others is inborn
   in man, at the same time with self-love. To the objection, that with so
   uncertain a basis, one might seek his own welfare by stealing, robbing,
   etc., Voltaire has the ready answer: then he would get hanged. [239]
   And all this he calls metaphysics.

   What little of a superficial religious consciousness had yet remained
   with Rousseau and Voltaire, entirely vanished with the Encyclopedists,
   and especially with Diderot (ob. 1784). Diderot endeavored, above all
   things, entirely to divorce morality from religion; the latter is for
   the former rather a hindrance than a help. In morality itself he
   wavers, undecided, between naturalistic determinism and a very
   superficial society-morality. The Epicurean view he regards as the most
   true. All the vices spring from covetousness, and hence they can all be
   got rid of by the abolition of property, by a community of goods; for
   the discovery of this universal panacea of human ills, he takes to
   himself great credit.--Naturalistic morality appears in its most gross
   form and in shameless nakedness in La Mettrie (ob. 1751), [240] whom
   even Voltaire despised, but whom Frederick the Great, from some
   incomprehensible caprice, made his reader and daily companion (from
   1748 on), and even nominated him, ignoramus that he was, to membership
   in the Academy of Sciences. Religion and morality stand in
   irreconcilable antagonism to philosophy; they rest only in politics,
   and serve for the bridling of the masses who are yet unable to rise to
   philosophy, just as, for a similar reason, there is as yet need also of
   hangman and death-penalties. But humanity as a whole cannot be happy
   until all the world embraces atheism. Religion has poisoned nature and
   cheated her out of her rights. Where the truth, that is, atheism,
   prevails, there man follows no other law than that of his particular
   natural propensity. And thus alone can he be happy. Man is not
   essentially different from the brute, not even by any peculiar moral
   consciousness; he stands in many respects below the brute, and has only
   this advantage, that he has a greater number of wants, whereby a
   greater culture becomes possible. Man--as sprung from the mingling of
   different races of animals, and as formed from matter of the same kind
   as that constituting the brute, save only that it has simply gone
   through a higher fermentation-process, and as being of a merely
   material organism (for the soul is only the brain, which is itself only
   a slightly organized piece of dirt),--is simply a mere machine, and is
   set into motion by outward impressions, and hence he is necessarily
   determined in all his volitions, and is not responsible for any of his
   actions. Repentance is folly; for individual man is not at fault for
   his being a poorly constructed machine. Hence also we should not
   despise the seemingly vicious, nor judge them severely. As, at death,
   all is over, hence we should enjoy the present as much as we possibly
   can. To defer an enjoyment when it offers itself, is the same as
   waiting at a banquet without eating, until all are done; enjoyment, and
   indeed primarily and principally, sensuous enjoyment, is our highest
   and sole destination.--It was precisely during his stay in Potsdam that
   La Mettrie wrote his most audacious glorification of the wildest and
   even unnatural wantonness. His writings were very much sought after in
   the higher circles of society.

   The total result of materialistic ethics is summed up in a work written
   very probably by Baron Holbach with the cooperation of Diderot and
   other Encyclopedists: System de la nature, par Mirabaud (1770),
   constituting the gospel proper of atheism, and presenting nakedly and
   undisguisedly, in a dull and spiritless form, the results of the
   philosophy of Locke, Hobbes, and Condillac, who are in fact expressly
   cited as sources. As man is only a material machine, hence there is
   between the physical and the moral life no difference; all thinking and
   willing consist simply in modifications of the brain. All propensities
   and passions are purely corporeal states--are either hatred or love,
   that is "repulsion or attraction;" the absurd doctrine of the freedom
   of the will has been invented simply to justify the equally absurd one
   of divine providence. Man is only a part of the great world-machine,
   determined in all his movements,--a blind instrument in the hands of
   necessity; the concession of freedom even to a single creature would
   bring the whole universe into confusion; hence whatever takes place
   takes place necessarily. Religion and its ethics are the greatest
   enemies of man, and occasion him only torment. The system of nature
   alone makes man truly happy,--teaches him to enjoy the present as fully
   as possible, and gives him, in relation to every thing which is not an
   object of enjoyment, the indifference that is essential to his
   happiness. Hence there is no need of a special moral system. Its
   fundamental principle would necessarily be: "enjoy life as much as thou
   canst;" but every man does this already of himself without instruction.
   Self-love, one of the manifestations of the law of gravitation, is the
   highest moral law. The chief condition of happiness is bodily health;
   the true key of the human heart is medicine; the most effectual
   moralists are the physicians; he who makes the body sound, makes the
   man moral. Every man follows by nature and necessarily his own special
   interest, a course of conduct which in fact follows immediately and
   necessarily from his bodily organization; vice and crime are but
   consequences of morbid corporeality,--are not guilt but necessity.
   Hence only the unwise can repent; in any case repentance is only a pain
   arising from the fact that an act has had bad consequences for us. Now
   as the instincts and passions are the sole motive of human action,
   hence we can influence other men only by working upon their passions.
   Each is obligated only to that which procures him an advantage. Hence a
   good man is he who satisfies his passions in such a manner that other
   persons must contribute to this satisfaction so as that they also
   thereby satisfy their own passions and interests. Hence the atheist is
   necessarily a good man, whereas religion makes men bad in that it
   embitters to them the passions. That suicide is held as legitimate for
   those who are weary of life, is a matter of course.--This godless
   world-theory disseminated itself in rapid development deeper and deeper
   among the masses; and the ten years of the French Revolution are the
   practical realization of this ethics as a social power.

   It is characteristic of the difference of national spirit that the
   naturalistic tendency could not, in its stark crudity, take hold upon
   the German people, but came to expression only in association with
   other higher principles, with Christianly-moral elements, namely, in
   the Rationalistic "illuminism" of the eighteenth century. Open unbelief
   proper and materialistic morals spoke, in Germany, almost exclusively
   French; and the sycophant court-atheists were too much despised to find
   hearty favor with the masses. The demoralizing revolution which
   proceeded front the upper classes, met with a powerful opposition in
   the German national spirit. Even while a popular school of poetry
   divorced itself from the Christian consciousness, still this school
   held fast to the antithesis of the spiritual and the naturalistic
   world-theories, recognizing the former as the higher; "let him who
   cannot believe, enjoy; let him who can believe, deny himself."--The
   superficial deistic ethics attains to greater influence in Germany than
   the materialistic, though without giving rise to any important
   scientific works. On the basis of the uncorrupted purity of human
   nature there was developed a superficial utilitarian morality without
   deeper contents; and this morality was looked upon as the essence
   proper of Christianity. Basedow's demagogic attempt at world-renovation
   by a new system of education based on Rousseau, became very soon too
   ridiculous to exert any enduring influence, Steinbart [241] (professor
   of theology at Frankfort on the Oder) in his utterly superficial but
   greatly lauded System of Pure Philosophy or Christian Doctrine of
   Happiness (1778, '80, '86, '94), regarded the chief contents of the
   Christian religion and of Christian ethics as simply the answering of
   the question: "What have I to learn, and to do, in order to have the
   greatest possible sum of pleasure?" "Happiness is the end of the entire
   human life, and consists in the heart-state of a continuous contentment
   and of frequently recurring enjoyment." Every man is by nature
   perfectly good and pure, though indeed not as a spirit but as an
   animal, and he rises only gradually from the animal to the man.
   Self-love is the ground of all morality, and morality is the infallible
   way to a state of enjoyment; of a checking of self-love there can be no
   occasion; hence Christian virtue is "nothing else than a preparedness
   to enjoy one's existence to the highest degree, under all
   circumstances"; the highest state of enjoyment is of course only in the
   life after death, where alone we can really survey the consequences of
   our beneficent, meritorious actions; "but our glimpses into that life
   encourage us to a better using of the present one, and the fullest
   enjoyment of this life enlarges our receptivity for higher degrees of
   happiness in the future world." This is the pure doctrine of Jesus,
   which unfortunately has, for eighteen centuries, been lost sight
   of.--Steinbart was favored in the highest degree by the Prussian
   government, and aided in his plan of founding a "general normal school
   in which teachers might be educated for the true enlightenment of the
   nations."

   It was only the revival of the Pantheism of Spinoza in the nineteenth
   century that gave rise, in Germany, to a scientific form of ethics; but
   also this system, though of a far higher character than the
   freethinking of France, yet, in its later unscientific offshoots,
   ultimated in like results; and the fact that in our own day a
   resuscitated materialism, resting, however, more on natural science
   than on philosophy, presents us again with the ethics of the "System of
   Nature," is certainly no indication of progress in spiritual
   development, though indeed an evidence of a progress of the
   intellectual blight consequent on the too great stagnation of the
   religious and philosophical spirit in the present age.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [228] Especially in his Leviathan, 1651, and in his De cive. 1647;
   comp. Lechler: Gesch. des engl. Deismus, 1841, p. 67 sqq.

   [229] De legibus naturae, 1672, 83, 94.

   [230] Systema intellectuale, etc., in English in 1678.

   [231] Enchiridion ethicum, in his Opp. omn., 1679, 2 fol.

   [232] Essay on the Human Understanding, 1690.

   [233] The Religion of Nature Delineated, 1724.

   [234] Characteristicks, (1711), 1714; comp. Lechler, p. 240 sqq.

   [235] Treatise of Human Nature, 1730; Essays, etc., 1742.

   [236] Institutes of Moral Philosophy, 1769.

   [237] Works, 1754.

   [238] Oeuvres, Paris, 1830, t. 31, p. 262; t. 12, p. 160; t. 42, p.
   583.

   [239] Ibid., t. 37, p. 336; t. 38, p. 40.

   [240] L'homme machine; L'art de jouir., 1751.

   [241] System der reinen Phil. oder Glückseligkeitslehre des
   Christenthums.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLII.

   The theological ethics of the evangelical church of the eighteenth
   century made but a quite temperate use of German philosophy before the
   time of Kant, and insisted but little (not without some influence from
   Pietism) on the antithesis of the two evangelical churches in the
   sphere of ethics. Buddaeus furnished the first scientific system of
   ethics, though in its philosophical elements it is rather eclectic.
   Stapfer, Baumgarten and others, applied the Wolfian philosophy in
   pedantic minuteness to Christian ethics; while Mosheim constructed it
   more upon a purely Biblical basis, and upon that of practical
   life-experience. Toward the close of the century the superficiality of
   Rationalism began already to make itself felt.

   Francis Buddaeus of Jena, one of the most learned and sound theologians
   of the eighteenth century, a man of comprehensive philosophical culture
   and who wrote also a thoughtful, evangelically-inspired system of
   practical philosophy (Elementa philosophiae practicae, 1697, and
   often), prepared the way, with his Institut. theologiae moralis (1712,
   '23, 4to.; in German as "Introduction to Moral Theology," 1719), for a
   more thorough, systematic treatment of ethics. The rich, carefully and
   some times rather lengthily treated subject-matter rests upon sound
   Scripture exegesis and careful observation of human life. Influenced
   somewhat by Spener, this writer combines practical sense with a
   scientific spirit. He begins at once with the thought of the corruption
   of human nature and with that of divine grace, and hence gives not a
   general philosophical, but only a specifically-Christian system of
   ethics, in view of man as regenerated. The ground-thought of morality
   is: man must do every thing which is essential to a constant union with
   God and to the restoration of God's image, and must avoid the contrary
   thereof. The whole subject-matter is distributed, (1), into moral
   theology (in the narrower sense of the word), which treats of the
   nature of regeneration and sanctification in their collective
   development,--(2) into jurisprudentia divina, which treats of the
   divine laws and of the duties resting thereupon,--and (3) into the
   doctrine of Christian prudence, which presents the practical carrying
   out of the moral in detail, and especially by clergymen. For the future
   development of evangelical ethics, the thorough treatment of the first
   part is especially valuable; Buddaeus finds in Christian ethics not
   merely the manifestation, but also the progressive development of the
   spiritual life of the regenerated. He presents as chief virtues: piety,
   temperateness and justness. (Buddaeus has been much used by other
   writers, also by J. J. Rambach, 1739, and by J. G. Walch, 1747).

   The Reformed divine, John F. Stapfer of Bern made, in his rather
   comprehensive than scientifically-important system of ethics (1757), a
   very moderate use of the Wolfian philosophy. The earlier
   Calvinistically-rigorous spirit is here already very much modified.
   Sigismund Jacob Baumgarten (of Halle, a brother of the philosopher)
   follows, in his discursive "Theological Ethics" (1767, 4to.), the
   painfully-minute manner of Wolf, which is applied also in his numerous
   other writings, and which leaves absolutely nothing unsaid, not even
   that which every reader could supply for himself; and this pedantic
   discursiveness detracts considerably from the otherwise real
   thoroughness of the treatment.--(The Wolfian philosophy was applied to
   theological ethics by Canz (§ 40), by Bertling [1753], and by Reusch
   [1760]; J. C. Schubert [1759, '60, '62] is more independent.)--The not
   sufficiently prized P. Hanssen: (of Schleswig-Holstein) gave in his
   "Christian Ethics" (1739, '49) a very clear and sound presentation of
   the evangelical doctrine,--a work which gives evidence of a truly
   philosophical spirit, and protests against the one-sidedness of Wolf;
   in the first general part, he develops the threefold form of the moral
   life--in the state of innocence or perfection, in the state of sin, and
   in that of regeneration. T. Crüger (of Chemnitz) develops, in his
   Apparatus theol. moral. Christi et renatorum (1747, 4to.), the thought
   of the moral pattern as found in Christ, and hence of an ethical
   Christology and of its application to the life of Christians, with
   great profoundness and uncommon erudition, though in a somewhat stiff,
   over-carefully-classified, scholastic form.

   Mosheim's comprehensive "Ethics of the Holy Scriptures," [242] though
   in its sometimes almost hortatory discursiveness, often unnecessarily
   detailed, yet differs from works of the Wolfian and the earlier schools
   by a beautiful, animated and popular form, free of all stiff
   scholastic-elements, and gives evidence of a close observation of life,
   of impartial and profound study of the Scriptures, of a simple, mild,
   evangelical spirit, and of a thorough and careful attention to details;
   but the scientific demonstration and development are frequently feeble,
   and, despite all his insisting on the rationality of Christian
   morality, the philosophical element is almost entirely overlooked; the
   antitheses of view, as developed in the two churches, are not made
   prominent. The whole subject is distributed into the consideration of
   the inner holiness of the soul, and into that of the outer holiness of
   the walk. Miller's continuation of the work, though furnished with more
   learned apparatus, is less mature and also less inviting in
   form.--Crusius, whom we have already mentioned as a philosophical
   moralist, wrote also a "Moral Theology" (1772) which is inspired with a
   philosophical spirit, and gives evidence. of deeply Christian
   knowledge.--Töllner, 1762, wrote rather on the treatment of ethics than
   on ethics itself,--already quite Rationalistic; Reuss, 1767,
   uncompleted; the work of G. Less, (1777, and subsequently), is not
   important; H. C. Tittmann, 1783, '94, endeavors to be strictly Biblical
   but is without depth; Morus' work, 1794, is imperfectly edited from his
   lectures,--partially based on Crusius, frequently rationalistic. The
   Englishman, Thomas Stackhouse, wrote on Christian ethics in a plain and
   Biblical spirit, treating mainly only of general questions. The
   Reformed divine, Endemann of Marburg, closes the series of Reformed
   moralists (1780), but he bears the distinctively Reformed character
   only in very feeble traits.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [242] 1735-70; continued by Miller, 1762; Miller wrote also a special
   Einleit. in die theol. Moral, 1772, and a short Lehrbuch, 1773.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLIII.

   In the system of Kant philosophical ethics put off the naturalistic or
   subjectivistic character; the moral idea attained, on the basis of the
   freedom of the will, to an objective significancy, and became an end
   per se, and not simply a means to the end of individual happiness.
   Independently of the theoretical reason and of the God-consciousness,
   the moral idea became the presupposition and basis of all speculation
   on the supersensuous, and hence also of rational religion. The
   universal validity of the moral law became the formal, and, pretendedly
   also, the material principal of morality. But the one-sided rational
   character of this morality left essential phases of the moral
   unaccounted for; and the merely formal character of the moral law
   admitted of no consequential carrying-out in detail.--The application
   of Kantian ground-thoughts to theological ethics was of two-fold
   effect,--raising it indeed above the utilitarian ethics of the
   "illuministic" current, but robbing it, in its divorce from religion,
   of a part of its Christian character.

   Previous philosophical ethics had gone astray in two respects. The two
   equally true and necessary thoughts, that, on the one hand, the moral
   idea has a universally valid significancy, that it cannot be dependent
   in its obligating character on the chance caprice of the individual
   subject, and that yet, on the other, it has in fact for its end the
   perfection of the person, and hence also his happiness, had been
   one-sidedly held fast to, each for itself. Naturalistic Pantheism gave
   validity simply to the objective significancy of the moral,--absolutely
   annihilated the freedom of the will, and conceived by the moral law as
   a mere fatalism unalterably determining every individual; and when,
   with the champions of materialistic atheism, this notion of the unfree
   determination of the individual, ultimated practically in an entire
   letting-loose of the passions, it was not without the countenance of
   strict consistency with the ground principle. The opposite tendency
   proceeded from the subject, emphasizing his free will, and hence
   looking less to the ground than to the end of the moral activity; man
   was to be determined by nothing which does not leave him absolutely
   free, which does not contribute to his own individual advantage, in
   other words, by the thought of individual happiness. While the first
   tendency undermined morality by the fact that it annihilated the moral
   subject, sinking him into a mere unfree member of the great
   world-machine, the other tendency imperiled morality in its innermost
   essence, in a no less degree, by the fact that it required no
   self-subordination of the subject under a per se valid idea, but
   emphasized the absolute claims of the individual personality, so that
   in fact in their ultimate consequences the two opposite tendencies
   resulted, equally, in the letting-loose of the individual in his;
   unbridled naturalness.--Christian ethics could not, save by letting
   itself be led astray by philosophy, fall into either of these errors.
   That the moral idea is valid per se, that it has an unconditional,
   universally-obligating significancy, is here a point settled from the
   very start, inasmuch as it conceives this idea as the holy will of God.
   He who inquires first as to himself, and only afterward as to the will
   of God, has absolutely reversed the moral relation. On the other hand,
   it is, in Christian ethics, not in the least doubtful, that this will
   of God has in view the perfection of man, and hence also his perfect
   happiness,--that man, in fulfilling God's will becomes also truly
   happy, and does not lose his freedom but brings it to perfection.--It
   was high time, toward the end of the eighteenth century, to set bounds
   to the decline of philosophical ethics; the two opposed currents had
   attained to their last corrupt consequences, subversive of all
   morality. The "eudemonistic" tendency could oppose nothing else to the
   frivolous enjoyment-seeking and conscienceless self-seeking of the
   materialistic tendency, than an insipid utilitarian morality
   essentially identical at bottom with the other, and which differed from
   it only by an air of external decency, but not by profundity of thought
   or moral worthiness. It was a great forward-step of philosophical
   thought-development when Kant, with mighty hand, dashed to atoms both
   these moral structures, and built up a new firmer-based system;
   although his own age, in its enthusiasm for him, no less than he
   himself, sadly deceived themselves as to the perfection and durability
   of the same.

   His first and by no means unimportant service consists in the fact that
   basing himself primarily on the skepticism of Hume, he annihilated, at
   a single stroke, all confidence in previous methods of philosophizing,
   whether speculative or empirical, and deprived both empiricism and the
   pure theoretical reason, in so far as it had thus far been developed,
   of all right to pretend to establish, in respect to the supersensuous,
   or the ideal, any thing whatever as philosophical knowledge. Though in
   his "Critique of the Pure Reason" (1781) Kant had ascribed to the
   speculative reason, in the sphere of theoretical knowledge, really only
   the function of formal thought or logic, he yet attained in fact to a
   positive knowledge of reality in the sphere of the practical reason,
   that is, in that of morality. [243] Reason is not merely a cognizing,
   but also a volitionating power; hence there is not merely a rational
   knowledge of that which is, namely, theoretical or pure reason, but
   also of that which, through rational volition, ought to be, namely,
   practical reason; the former seeks in every given reality for the
   rational beginning, the ground; the practical reason seeks for the
   rational goal, the end. This end can, as a rational one, not be
   fortuitous, arbitrary, or doubtful, but must have an unconditional
   absolutely-valid character. The office of reason is here entirely other
   than in the sphere of pure theoretical cognition; the practical reason
   directs itself toward something which is not yet real, but which should
   through reason become real, and which, consequently depends upon
   reason; hence reason is here, as in contrast to the other sphere, in
   its own sphere proper, where it itself actively creates its own
   object,--is free and responsible. Man, as a spirit, can choose whatever
   object of action he pleases, but as a rational spirit he should set
   before himself only a rational, and hence absolutely valid object. As
   he acts here in a sphere determined by himself, hence he is dependent
   only upon himself; in willing and acting, man is free. A rational end
   is such a one as must be recognized by every rational man, as his own
   end; for reason is not a merely individual quality, but is in all men
   the same; hence the rationality of the end consists in its universal
   validity. Hence the highest principle of all rational moral action is
   the law: "act in such a manner that the maxim of thy conduct is adapted
   to become a universal law for all men." (Maxim is here taken as the
   subjective principle of moral action in contradistinction to the
   objectively-valid law.) The obligatoriness of such action lies
   exclusively in my rationality, and is hence entirely unconditional;
   should I act otherwise I would not be rational; hence this law of the
   reason is the "categorical imperative." I am here to inquire not after
   my own happiness, but only after that which is rational; I ought to be
   rational; to this end I need no other motive than my own rational
   nature itself. To make my own happiness the end of my moral
   activity-eudemonism-is irrational and immoral; for, because of the
   fortuity of the outward conditions of happiness, and of the
   heterogeneousness of claims upon happiness, the moral would be rendered
   dependent upon accident and. caprice. The moral reason is absolutely
   free only when it has absolutely within itself the law and the motive
   of action, and where it makes itself dependent on no other conditions
   not given within itself. "Autonomy" constitutes the essence of reason
   and the dignity of human nature. Reason, in a practical law, determines
   the will directly, and not by means of an intervening feeling of
   pleasure or displeasure. To be happy is indeed the legitimate and
   naturally-necessary striving of every rational being, but such a ground
   for action can be known and recognized only empirically, whereas the
   moral law must necessarily have objective unconditional validity. What
   is good or evil cannot be known through any thing outside of reason,
   but only through reason itself; but feelings of pleasure and
   displeasure belong not to reason, but to the lower sphere of the
   spirit-life.

   Though morality as resting exclusively upon the categorical imperative
   of the reason has not happiness for its motive, yet it earns a right to
   happiness; virtue is the subjective fitness for and worthiness of
   happiness, that is, for that condition of a rational being to whom, in
   its entire existence, every thing goes according to wish and will, and
   where consequently also the outward relations, including those of
   nature, harmonize with the spiritual and moral reality of the person.
   Neither virtue per se, nor happiness per se, but happiness as attendant
   upon virtue, constitutes the true, perfect life-condition of man--his
   highest good. The moral law per se is the sole true motive of the will,
   while the idea of the highest good is an object of reason. Happiness
   depends not merely upon our rational will, but also upon outer
   conditions which lie not within our power. Hence happiness and virtue
   are not identical (as the Greek moralists taught), but have primarily
   nothing whatever to do with each other; the virtuous man may possibly
   be very unhappy, namely, in so far as his condition is not dependent
   upon himself,--which is in fact another proof that the striving after
   virtue and the striving after happiness are not one and the same thing,
   and that the striving after happiness per se is neither moral nor leads
   to morality. In this distinction lies the dialectics of the practical
   reason; happiness is not already included in virtue itself,--stands
   therewith not in analytical but in synthetic connection; and hence we
   are brought to the important question: how is the highest good
   practically possible? that is, how can the two essentially different
   elements of this good be brought into perfect harmony?--The highest
   good is a demand of the practical reason; the demand of happiness for
   the virtuous is just as rational as that of virtue itself; but its
   realization rests not (as that of virtue) within our free power, but is
   rather a morally necessary demand upon the moral government of the
   world,--a "postulate of the practical reason." The demand, the
   postulate, of a perfect morality which is not fully to be attained to
   in this temporal, sensuously-limited life, and of a correspondent
   happiness, that is, the demand of the highest good, finds its
   fulfillment only in the assumption of an immortality of the rational
   personality, and of a universal government of an all-wise, just and
   almighty God. These postulates have, in virtue of the moral nature of
   man, entire moral certainty, because it is only on the assumption of
   their truth that the morally-rational life can attain to its goal. Thus
   the moral law leads, through the idea of the highest good as the object
   and end of the practical reason, to religion, that is, to the
   conceiving of all duties as divine commands,--not indeed as arbitrary
   prescriptions of an external will, but as essential and
   morally-necessary laws of every free rational will per se, which,
   however, must be looked upon as divine commands, because it is only on
   the supposition of a moral Infinite Will that we can attain to the
   highest good. Thus the moral striving is preserved from becoming
   selfish, and the thought of happiness is not made the motive of
   morality, but this motive is and remains absolutely nothing else but
   the moral law; but, through the religious consciousness, our reason
   attains to certainty and confidence in its moral aspirations. Ethics
   will never become a doctrine of happiness, an art of becoming happy; it
   becomes simply the doctrine as to how we may make ourselves worthy of
   happiness. Hence the moral idea rests not upon religion, but,
   conversely, religion rests upon the per se certain and necessary moral
   idea,--follows by moral necessity from this idea. Man is not moral
   because he is pious, but le is pious because he is moral. Morality in
   so far as it rests upon the idea of a free and rational creature, has
   no need, per se, of religion, because it has no end nor motive outside
   of itself, but it leads necessarily to religion, and thus gives rise to
   the idea of an almighty moral Lawgiver and world-Governor.--A special
   carrying-out of philosophical ethics, Kant has not really given; we
   find only a scanty approach thereto in his "Doctrine of Virtue," a work
   of no great importance, and which already betrays marks of intellectual
   senility. He contents himself mostly with the mere general
   foundation-laying, whereas in fact, the chief question is: in how far
   the general thoughts admit also of being carried out in detail? Duties
   toward God belong, according to Kant, not to ethics proper, but to the
   doctrine of religion. [244]

   Unquestionably there lies in the ethics of Kant a decided advance
   beyond antecedent philosophical ethics, and especially beyond the
   empirical and naturalistic. He raised it from the low region of a
   self-seeking or external utilitarian morality into the dignity of the
   science of a purely rational idea transcending all mere
   reality,--rejected all inferior self-seeking motives to morality, and
   insisted on the unconditional validity and obligatoriness of the moral
   law. While there lies in this a decided approximation to the Christian
   conception of the moral, still the great difference of this from the
   Christian view, and the inner weakness of the Kantian system as a
   whole, are unmistakable. The independence of morality on religion which
   follows from Kant's theory of rational knowledge, makes it impossible
   for the moral principle to obtain positive contents; his much admired
   moral law, and for which he puts forth such high claims, says in fact
   absolutely nothing, and does not lead, save by arbitrarily calling in
   aid from without, a single step further; and it is manifestly not
   without good reason, that Kant developed no system of ethics proper.
   The above-mentioned formula expresses not, properly speaking, the moral
   law itself, but only the universal validity of the law which is yet to
   be discovered,--says, in fact, nothing else than: "act according to
   rational, and hence universally-valid law;" but if we now ask, what
   then is this law, we are left entirely without answer. The application
   of this formal principle becomes in each particular case an experiment;
   an examination of the question: can I will that all men should act
   according to the same maxim by which I act? But we have absolutely no
   clue or criterion as to whence and on what basis the answer is to be
   given, inasmuch as the moral law is utterly destitute of positive
   contents; we could at best only start the inquiry as to what the result
   would be in case all men acted as we; but this, as a judging of
   morality by the result, would be in contradiction to the other moral
   views of Kant, and would be the worst of all empiricism,--as in fact
   not the real, but only the possible or probable result could be taken
   into consideration. But in case, now, some one should, in view of some
   per se immoral action, come to the manifestly possible, though
   erroneous conviction, that such action is adapted to be practiced
   universally, then such a person would be entirely unassailable and
   unreformable from the stand-point of Kant, and thus an error in the
   calculating understanding would jeopardize the entire moral conduct of
   the person. And in fact Helvetius and La Mettrie affirmed without
   hesitation, that their own maxim was adapted to be a universally valid
   law; what could Kant then object to them, seeing that they recognized
   his formal principle? The Kantian moral law, which he himself declared
   to be purely' formal, is moreover incorrect even in formal respects.
   Inasmuch as, according to Kant, a maxim is the subjective rule which
   lies at the basis of my conduct, hence it is for that very reason per
   se utterly unadapted to be made into a universal law for all men; a
   maxim is the law as subjectively conditioned and shaped, and has in
   fact, in its subjective form, validity only for this particular
   subject. The moral maxim of an educator and guide is not adapted to be
   also the maxim of him who is to be guided and led,--that of a warrior
   cannot be that of a clergyman. Although it is true that the law which
   forms the basis of my maxim must be universally valid, yet I cannot
   derive the law from the maxim, but only the maxim from the law. Kant
   gives not the contents of the law, but only the way in which the
   contents may be found; this way, however, is in contradiction to his
   entire system, and is not merely a purely empirical or rather
   experimental one, but also an entirely false one. In the very attempt
   at rejecting every merely individual element as determinative, Kant
   exalts it in fact to the solely determining one.

   Kant undertakes, now, actually to advance further by the aid of this
   formal principle, and infers from it, as a second formula, the
   principle: "act in such a manner as to consider and use rational
   nature, that is, humanity in general, both in thy own person and also
   in the person of every other one, always, at the same time, as an end,
   and never merely as a means,"--namely, because rational nature is
   personality, and personality is an end in itself. Kant himself admits
   that this formula is merely formal; but precisely in this fact lies its
   defectiveness, for it is just as impossible to attain to positive
   contents from merely formal principles as to obtain a real value from a
   purely algebraic equation. When the principle is only a mere empty
   space which is first to be filled from without, and not the fountain
   which unfolds itself into a stream, there is no possibility of
   advancing a step-further. And hence, the above formula may be applied
   equally well morally and immorally; the whole question depends on, what
   the end is, for which I consider the person; it might in fact be an end
   of Satanic malice. This second principle is, in its
   arbitrarily-determined form (and which in fact embraces only a limited
   part of morality) still less adapted to its purpose than the first,
   with which in fact it stands in no logical connection.

   Another wide-reaching defect of Kantian ethics is this, that morality
   appears as a mere one-sided affair of the understanding, while the
   heart entirely disappears, and is left utterly unexplained. This
   one-sidedness results of course from the divorce of morality from
   religion. It sounds plausibly, and is likewise very easily said, that
   the good inust be done for its own sake, that the law of the reason
   must be per se the direct motive to moral action; but as Kant
   positively admits elsewhere the possibility that man can act also
   against his better knowledge, and consequently against his conscience,
   hence this undeniable fact proves that rational knowledge is not per se
   a sufficient motive to moral action. The thought of love is wanting;
   man can indeed act against his knowledge, but not against his love. It
   is only in a love of the good that a sufficient motive for moral action
   is found; but in this God-ignoring morality of the understanding, love
   has no ground and no place. The love of the living God can enkindle
   love, but an abstract thought cannot. Kant demands simply unconditional
   obedience, but not love; he expressly declares that the law must often
   be fulfilled even against our inclinations, yea, in the face of decided
   repugnance; but this would amount only to an outward fulfilling of
   duty. Kant's morality is possible only for beings who have in
   themselves no manner of sin and no germ of sin; but so soon as even the
   mere possibility of an already-existing sinfulness is admitted, this
   ethical system loses all foundation; for both the certainty and also
   the potency of the rational law as a motive, are thereby undermined.
   And now Kant in fact admits,--in his remarkable work: "Religion within
   the Limits of Pure Reason" (1792, '94)--(which, with the exception of
   the one point here in question, became the catechism of
   Rationalism)--the indwelling of an evil principle in man along-side of
   the good one, a "radical evil in human nature," existing there already
   anterior to any exercise of freedom,--a tendency to evil inhering in
   all men without exception, as a subjective motive-power antecedent to
   all action,--a peccatum originarium, which he describes with such dark
   colors that even the strongest presentations of the orthodox doctrine
   of hereditary sin would fail to depict the natural man so unfavorably;
   but by this admission, Kant undermines his entire moral system, for he
   thereby renders it entirely incomprehensible, how the mere knowledge of
   the moral law (if indeed, under such circumstances, such a knowledge
   could in fact be certain and unclouded) could be the motive to a
   willing fulfillment of the same, seeing that, in fact, the love of man
   is turned in the direction of evil. And though it is true that often
   precisely in the contradictions of a system, the deeper presentiment of
   the truth is in fact contained, still the system itself is thereby
   overturned and proven untrue. And in general the antithesis of reason
   and sensuousness, which extends through Kant's entire world-theory, is
   in no respect rendered comprehensible, nor conciliated; it appears
   simply as a fact, broadly prominent and defying all
   comprehension.--Another peculiarity of Kantian ethics is its utter lack
   of appreciation for history, although this was in fact characteristic
   of the entire epoch; his ethics has history neither as its
   presupposition, nor as its end, nor as its contents. Each man stands
   unconnected with the historical development of the spirit,--is
   considered only as a rational unity, and acts only as such; and there
   is also a lack of all appreciation for an historical goal of the moral,
   for a morality of humanity, for the rational moral significancy of
   universal history.

   The Kantian ground-principles of ethics were further carried out and
   applied, with partial modifications, by Kiesewetter (1789), by K. C. E.
   Schmid (1790), by the Roman Catholic Mutschelle (1788, '94), by Snell
   (1805) in smooth, popular style, by L. H. Jacob (1794), by Heydenreich
   (1794), by Tieftrunk (1789 and later), and by others.

   Kant's moral system was, in its general character, very poorly adapted
   to be applied to Christian ethics. Its absolutely unhistorical
   character, its merely formal principle the application of which rests
   simply on reflective calculation, its lack of any other moral motive
   than the authority of an abstract law, and above all the reversing of
   the Christian relation between morality and religion,--all this could
   not, on its application to theological ethics, fail to endanger the
   Christian character thereof, notwithstanding the fact that it opposed
   with moral earnestness the insipid utilitarian morality of deistical
   "illuminism." Precisely this divorcing of morality from religion--a
   direct contradiction to the Christian view--was very much in harmony
   with the dominant spirit of the age; and this in fact accounts in part
   for the warm welcome which Kant's moral system met with also within the
   sphere of the already deeply sunken theological world; and upon this
   adoption of Kantian views rests the general development of the system
   of Rationalism. The dogmatic element of the Christian
   religion,--reduced now to the ideas of God, of immortality and of
   Christ as the ideal of virtue,--sank into secondary importance--into
   dependence on the morality given with full certainty in reason itself;
   the historical phase of Christianity was without worth; Christ himself
   was admired only in so far as he had realized in himself the moral law
   given already in reason,--only as a teacher of "illuministic" morality,
   and as a living exemplification of the same. It was not evangelical
   faith that could lean with confidence upon Kant, but rather only the
   anti-Christian tendency, which had thus far been represented in
   "illuminism," and which now, in fact, received from Kant a more
   earnestly-ethical and scientific character. We have no wish to deny
   this scientific impulse given to theology; but when (as is done by
   Daniel Schenkel in his Dogmatics) Kant is exalted into an essential and
   necessary reformer of the whole field of evangelical theology, through
   whom there has been wrought "a deep-reaching reaction on the part of
   the ethical factor against the fanatical-grown doctrinism of the
   dogmatics of the seventeenth century" which had annihilated all
   interest in ethics,--such a manner of viewing the matter simply
   indicates a forgetfulness of the fact that this orthodoxy in question
   had been already for almost a century devoid of vitality, and that in
   the meantime the philosophy of Wolf and the movement of Pietism had
   given theology an entirely other direction, and that Pietism especially
   had in fact almost one-sidedly emphasized the moral phase of
   Christianity,--so that there could hardly have been need of the Kantian
   moralism as the sole salvation against said doctrinal "fanaticism."

   The most important theological presentations of ethics from the Kantian
   stand-point are: J. W. Schmid ("Spirit of the Ethics of Jesus," 1790;
   "Theological Ethics," 1793; "Christian Ethics," 1797), who presents the
   founding of ethics on Kantian principles as the sole mission of Jesus;
   J. E. C. Schmidt (1799), in a similar spirit; S. G. Lange; S. Vogel.
   Stäudlin treated theological ethics (from and after 1798) with constant
   changing of title and stand-point, until in his "New Treatise on
   Ethics" (1813, third edition, 1825) he despaired of any superior
   principle at all, and brought together, in a wavering eclecticism of
   heterogeneous thoughts, a feeble whole. The self-metamorphosing C. F.
   von Ammon repeated at first (1795-'98) simply the ethics of Kant, but
   soon after (1800) broke entirely away from him, without yet getting rid
   of his own superficiality.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [243] Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten, 1785; Kritik der
   praktischen Vernunft, 1788, the chief work of the Kantian form of
   ethics; Metaph. Anfangsgründe der Rechtslehre, 1797; Metaph. Anf. der
   Tugendlehre, 1797.

   [244] Met. d. Sitten, ed. 1838, p. 355 sqq.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLIV.

   The philosophy of Fichte, resting upon Kant, but, with rigid
   consequentiality, proceeding beyond him, manifested itself'
   predominantly upon the ethical field. Fichte endeavored indeed to
   complement the formal principle by a material one, but both of them are
   so absolutely devoid of ethical contents, and the material principle
   stands even so positively in antagonism to the contents of a really
   moral consciousness, that an actual ethical development of these
   principles became impossible; and the occasionally sound and
   morally-earnest contents of the development in detail could only be
   loosely associated with these principles, but not scientifically
   developed from them. The immaturity of the entire stand-point rendered
   it also impossible that any important ethical tendency in philosophy or
   theology should arise therefrom. Fichte labored indeed fruitfully in a
   time which had lost all solid philosophical foot hold, but he formed no
   school.

   Fichte's "System of Ethics according to the Principles of the Doctrine
   of Science" (1798) is the most important attempt to apply the
   ground-thoughts of the "Doctrine of Science" to one particular science.
   We would do injustice to the Fichtean philosophy were we to consider
   its unfruitful eccentricities apart from their connection with the
   immediately-preceding philosophy; his philosophy is a
   scientifically-justified and necessary advance beyond Kant. As Kant had
   denied to the pure reason all objective knowledge, and also placed all
   contents of the practical reason exclusively in the subject, and
   derived the objective validity of the law of reason simply from the
   subject; so Fichte simply made the validity of the individual subject,
   the ego, all-predominant,--conceived all objective existence merely
   negatively as the non-ego, and based cognition and volitionating
   absolutely on the individual ego. The ego and the non-ego reciprocally
   determine each other, and hence stand in reciprocal relation. The ego
   posits itself as determined by the non-ego, that is, it cognizes; and
   it posits itself, on the other hand, as determining in relation to the
   non-ego, that is, it volitionates. The two are only two phases of the
   same thing, inasmuch as the non-ego in its entire being exists only in
   so far as it is posited by the ego, so that, strictly speaking, the ego
   is its own object. The ego should in all its determinations be posited
   only by itself,--should he absolutely independent of all non-ego. Only
   as volitionating, as absolutely determining the non-ego, is the ego
   free and independent. The ego as rational, should not permit itself to
   be determined by any non-ego independent of it,--should be absolutely
   independent, should make all non-ego absolutely dependent on
   itself,--should exercise absolute causality upon the same. In freedom,
   in volitionating, I am rational; and in that I determine my freedom as
   an absolutely self-poised power, that is affirm my freedom, I am moral;
   hence morality is self-determination to freedom. I should act freely in
   order that I may become free, that is, I should act with the
   consciousness that I determine myself in absolute independence. Hence
   the formal principle of morality is: "act according to thy conscience,"
   or "act always according to the best conviction of thy duty;" and as
   material principle of ethics, there results this: "make thyself into an
   independent or free being." "I should be a self-dependent being; this
   is my destination; and the destination of things is, that I use them in
   furthering my independence."

   So absolutely void a principle of morality was probably never before
   proposed. The formal principle expresses nothing other than: act
   according to a yet unknown material principle. As to what the
   "conscience" is and contains, we are as yet utterly uninformed; and the
   material principle gives only the formal presupposition of morality,
   but not its contents proper; I must in fact already be free, in order
   to be able to act morally; freedom is not the contents, but the form,
   of moral action. If this material principle is to be taken in its
   entire significancy (and according to the philosophical presupposition
   this is strictly consequential), then the very opposite of all morality
   would be thereby expressed, namely, the acting absolutely without law,
   the virtualizing of freedom in its simple form without contents, and
   hence as mere individual caprice--amounting to a radical absolutism of
   the individual subject. whereas all morality consists in fact most
   essentially in a determining of individual freedom by an
   unconditionally and objectively valid law,--is a subordinating of the
   subject to a universally-obligating idea standing above the subject.
   From Fichte's principle there results, not a system of ethics, but,
   consequentially, only a theory of license. While it is true that in his
   examinations of particular moral questions only loosely connected with
   his system, Fichte shows himself, for the most part, high-minded and
   earnest though indeed often strangely unpractical, still there lies, at
   least in his ground-principle and in his general system, no
   justification thereof. The cold, heartless, non-loving, intellectual
   character of his discussions, is moreover not very well adapted to
   awaken a moral interest.

   What Fichte says on moral questions in his later, more rhetorical than
   scientific, writings, bears in general the same unfruitful stamp,--
   often widely misunderstanding the reality of life; we need only call to
   mind the new system of education proposed in his much admired
   "Addresses to the German Nation," which was presented with the
   assumption of world-regenerating significancy, but at which, in fact,
   no experienced educator can avoid smiling, and also his "Doctrine of
   the State" which is even more than fantastical. The public often
   allowed itself to be deceived by the ring of his periods, and by the
   loftily enigmatic character of the expression. And it is doubtful
   whether the fanaticism of the philosopher himself, or that entertained
   for him by others, was the greater; certain it is, however, that very
   soon there was a vast sobering-down of both. We will here only refer to
   the fact that Fichte was personally very far from drawing the very
   natural consequences of his dangerous moral principle, but that on the
   contrary in his rhetorical "Direction for a Holy Life" (1807), in which
   he already largely departs from his earlier views, and takes a rather
   mystico-Pantheistic turn, he expressly presents, as the goal of
   morality, complete "self-annihilation"--not, however, in the Christian
   sense of moral self-denial, but rather in the sense of the religion of
   India. The belief in our self-existence must be absolutely destroyed;
   by this course the ego that was, sinks away into the pure divine
   essence; we should not say: let the love and the will of God become
   mine, because in fact there are no longer two; but only One, and no
   longer two wills but simply one. So long as man yet desires to be any
   thing himself, God comes not to him; but so soon as he annihilates
   himself fully, utterly and radically, then God alone remains and is all
   in all. In annihilating himself man continues in God, and in this
   self-annihilation consists blessedness. The scientific justification of
   this (in some respects) not unambiguous requirement, is not
   given.--Notwithstanding the enthusiasm which Fichte's pretentious
   philosophy excited, especially among the youth, it was unable to create
   any long-enduring movements of thought. Feeble attempts to develop it
   further, or, in fact, to apply it to Christian ethics (Mehmel:
   "Elements," 1811), fell very soon into deserved oblivion.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLV.

   Schelling, after passing from Idealism to Pantheism, and from Pantheism
   to a dualistic Theosophy, endeavored, in this his third
   development-period, to reconcile the freedom of the individual with the
   sway of necessity, and indeed of necessary evil, by regarding
   individual man as determining himself for evil in an ante-mundane
   self-determination as influenced by a principle of darkness lying in
   God himself,--but as necessary for the self-revelation of divine love.
   The presentations of philosophical ethics which based themselves on
   Schelling, have been unable to attain to any permanent
   significancy.--The imperfectly developed anti-Schellingian philosophy
   of Jacobi answered, in its ethical phases, more to the Christian view,
   but it also has given rise to no real ethical system.

   Schelling, appearing at first as a disciple of Fichte (at a period
   which was very receptive and thankful for philosophy, even for a
   youthfully unripe one), and then, in a more highly speculative spirit
   passing beyond him, and also in constant metamorphoses progressively
   rising above even himself,--never settled, never bringing any thing to
   perfection,--did not develop in his earlier period any ethical system,
   and, at furthest, only gave, on purely Pantheistic foundations, more or
   less clear suggestions toward an ethical system; however, in his last
   productive period (when, under the stimulation of Jacob Böhme and
   Francis Baader, he plunged into a current of phantasy-speculation not
   un-akin to Gnostic dualism), he furnished, in his "Philosophical
   Inquiries as to the Essence of Human Liberty" (1809), a less
   dialectically developed, indeed, than theosophically-portrayed, though
   certainly deeply suggestive, presentation of the presuppositions and
   bases of a system of philosophical ethics.--In God there exists, before
   all reality, his eternal ground, his per se unintelligent nature, out
   of which in all eternity the divine understanding generates itself as
   the eternal antithesis to this ground-nature, which understanding
   stands dominatingly over against this nature,--rules creatingly in it,
   and by its acting upon it creates the finite world. Every creature has
   consequently a twofold nature in itself: an essentially dark principle
   corresponding to the nature-element in God, and also the principle of
   light or understanding. In the highest creature, man, there exists the
   entire power of the dark principle, namely, the unintelligent
   self-will, and also the entire power of light--the deepest abyss and
   the highest heaven. From the fact of his springing from the ground or
   nature-element in God, man has in himself a principle relatively
   independent of God, which, answering to this ground, is darkness, but
   which becomes transfigured by the light, the spirit. But while in God
   the two principles are indissolubly united, in man they are separable,
   that is, man has the possibility of good and evil. The dark principle
   can, as selfishness, separate itself from the light; self-will can
   endeavor to be, as a separate will, that which it truly is only in
   unity with the universal will,--can endeavor to be, also in the
   periphery or as a creature, that which it is only in so far as it
   remains in the divine center; this self-severing of self-hood from the
   light is evil. Evil, as the dissevering of the two principles, is
   necessary in order to a revelation of God; for if these principles
   remained in man as unseparated as they are in God, then there would be
   no difference between God and man, and God could not manifest his
   omnipotence and love; but God must of necessity so reveal himself. For
   this reason, the self-will of man is influenced by that dark
   unintelligent principle in God,--man is tempted to evil, in order that
   the will of divine love may find an opposing element, an antithesis,
   wherein it can realize itself. Hence evil exists in man as a natural
   tendency, for the reason that the disorder of his powers, as occasioned
   by the awakening of self-will in the creature, communicates itself to
   him in his very birth; and this ground-element in God works also
   constantly in man, and excites his self-hood and individual will, in
   order that in antithesis to it, the will of divine love may find scope
   for action. Hence results a general necessity of sin, which, however,
   by no means does away with the personal guilt of man, for the dark
   ground in God realizes not evil as such, but only prompts thereto. The
   actions of actual man result, indeed, with necessity from his essence,
   but this essence man himself has determined by an act of
   self-determination beyond all time and co-incidently with creation
   itself. Man is indeed born in time, but he has, himself, determined his
   life and character before his temporal life, yon side of time, in
   eternity. Hence our actual actions are, on the one hand, necessary,
   and, on the other, within our own responsibility. That Judas betrayed
   Christ, was absolutely necessary; neither himself nor another could
   have changed the matter; and nevertheless it was his own guilt, for he
   had so determined himself from eternity. As every man now acts, so
   acted he, as the identical person, already at the beginning of
   creation; he is not simply now forming his character, but his character
   is already formed. All men have determined themselves from eternity to
   egotism and self-seeking, and are born with this dark principle
   essential in their being. Evil, however, ought not to remain, but to be
   overcome by the good principle.

   Schelling promised a fuller development of these ground-thoughts, but
   did not carry it out. The enthusiasm with which this philosophy of his
   (which promised the solution of all the enigmas of existence), was
   received,--an enthusiasm which was not dampened, but rather heightened
   by its oracular tone and by the boldness of assertion which often
   assumed in it the place of scientific proof,--gave occasion also in the
   ethical field, to various, though mostly feeble, fruitless and soon
   abandoned, attempts at a further carrying-out of his
   ground-principles,--some of them in greater approximation to the
   Christian consciousness; (Buchner, 1807; Thanner, 1811; Klein, 1811;
   Möller, 1819; Krause, 1810, though deviating considerably from the
   master, and rather independent).--The facility with which other kindred
   currents of thought admitted of being joined into Schelling's
   theosophical outbursts, was indeed very tempting to the book-prolific
   spirit of the age, but it also soon awakened in the sobering-down
   spirit of the time a degree of distrust; and the fame obtained by the
   master in his meteoric flight, showed itself less partial for his
   zealously-imitating scholars; and when Daub, after welcoming, in their
   regular order of succession, all the philosophies from Kant to Hegel,
   advanced in his "Judas Iscariot" (1816), on the principles of
   Schelling, to a sort of personality of evil, to a philosophical
   Satanology, which indeed is yet far different from the Christian
   view,--then, at last, the predominantly Rationalistic spirit of the age
   began to lose confidence in the worth of the more recent philosophy as
   a whole.

   F. H. Jacobi of Munich, who, in antithesis to all Pantheism, took his
   departure from the stand-point of the free personal spirit, has given
   in his miscellaneous and unsystematic writings [245] only hints and
   suggestions toward an ethical system. He opposed to the Pantheistic
   philosophy, however, rather, merely the consciousness of its untruth
   than a scientifically-constructed theory. He emphasized very strongly
   the personal, moral will-freedom of man as opposed to all necessary
   determination, without, however, creating for it a really scientific
   basis, appealing here, as also in the case of the idea of the
   personality of God, to inner spiritual experience--to feeling.
   Morality, he based on a primitive feeling for the good, which is
   independent of the striving after happiness; the good must be
   accomplished for its own sake, and not as a means to happiness. In
   general, Jacobi did not rise beyond the views of Rationalism.--The few
   moralists who followed in his wake, defend indeed the Christian
   stand-point as against the Pantheistic tendency, but they have no very
   great scientific significancy. Among them belongs essentially also the
   Roman Catholic theologian, Salat (1810 and later).
     __________________________________________________________________

   [245] Werke, 1812, 4 vols.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLVI.

   The philosophy of Hegel knows nothing of ethics under this name; upon
   its Pantheistic ground no really personal freedom can find foothold,
   although it makes all possible endeavors to find scope therefor. The
   reality of freedom appears essentially only under the form of
   necessity, as that right which, on the part of the subject, is duty;
   ethics appears only as the Doctrine of Right; its scientific
   significancy lies in its decided advance beyond the previous subjective
   stand-point (which appears even yet in Kant) to the objective validity
   and reality of morality in the family, in society and in the state, as
   real moral forms of humanity. In the fact, however, that only the State
   is conceived as the highest realization of objective morality, lies
   also the one-sidedness of the view, inasmuch as the full reality of
   moral freedom remains unrecognized.--The Hegelian school has not
   developed philosophical ethics beyond the positions of the master; its
   application to theological ethics by Daub and Marheineke presents the
   unrefreshing picture of a vain attempt at harmoniously reconciling
   irreconcilable contradictions.--The school of Pantheistic radicalism,
   which is nominally connected with Hegel but is in reality based rather
   on Spinoza, has produced no real system of ethics, but only
   narrow-minded and absurd essays on particular ethical topics.

   The ethics of Hegel, as presented in his "Philosophy of Right," (1821;
   better by Gans, 1833),--the field occupied by which constitutes a part
   of the Philosophy of the Spirit,--rests on the Pantheistic current set
   in motion by Spinoza, and appears in higher scientific maturity than in
   Schelling.--The rational spirit, as the unity of the objective
   consciousness and of the self-consciousness, is the true free-become
   spirit; it cognizes every thing in itself and itself in every
   thing,--is, as reason, the identity of the objective All and the ego.
   In that the rational spirit recognizes rationality in nature, and hence
   nature as objective reason, it is theoretical spirit. But reason knows
   its own contents also as its object, objectivizes the same, posits them
   outwardly, that is, the spirit is practical spirit--volitionates. But
   in so far as it is determined to this volitionating by no other object
   foreign to itself, but determines itself simply by virtue of its
   rational being, it is free spirit. Hence the spirit posits itself
   outwardly from within, objectivizes itself in freedom, realizes itself
   in an objective manner. This its realization is not nature, but is
   essentially of a spiritual character, is a spiritual world, a kingdom
   of the spirit which exists not merely in the ego, but has an objective
   reality the creator of which is the free rational spirit; the
   objective-become spirit is the historical world in the widest sense of
   the word. The freedom of the rational spirit is, however, with Hegel,
   by no means a real freedom of choice; such a freedom finds in the
   Pantheistic world-theory no legitimate place; it is only the spirit's
   active relating to itself, its being independent upon any other
   external entity, but it is nevertheless essentially at the same time
   necessity. Thus the free spirit creates a world as the objective
   reality of freedom,-- a reality, however, which has a general
   significancy transcending the individual being,--becomes a power over
   the individual spirit, assumes the form of necessity, whereby the
   individual subject is determined in his freedom, and which consequently
   must be recognized by the individual as the higher factor,--is a
   general will over against the individual will,--is right, which becomes
   for the individual, duty.

   The Philosophy of Right falls into three parts. (1) The free will is
   primarily immediate, as individual will. The subject of right is the
   person, which stands to other persons primarily in an excluding
   relation. The person confers upon itself the reality of its freedom
   posits a special sphere of its subjective freedom in property. I
   declare an objective entity as my own, and hence as that upon which
   another has no right. This is primarily as yet an outward and not
   necessary action; it lies not in the essence of the thing itself that I
   declare it as my property; hence right in this sphere is the merely
   formal, abstract right. The freedom of the subject is assured and
   recognized by the fact that other subjects must concede the validity of
   my freedom, my property, my right; freedom receives thus a general
   significancy, becomes right. The freedom of individual subjects is
   regulated by law, is reduced to general harmony. But that the reality
   of this right rests primarily on the subjective will, and that the
   general will is the product of the individual will, is as yet an
   irrational state of things, and abstract right advances now, (2), to
   morality, wherein the individual will becomes the product and
   expression of the general will, but on the basis of freedom, through
   free recognition. In the first sphere the subjective freedom of the
   individual is bound by the right of the other, and hence trammeled. But
   in the free recognition of this right, the bondage, the trammeling
   element, is thrown off; right and law are no longer a merely outward
   limiting element, but become the personal law of the subject, the
   contents of his free self-determination. In the mere fulfillment of
   right the disposition does not come into question; I may concede to
   another his right unwillingly, and hence immorally; so soon, however,
   as right becomes morality, the disposition, the intention, becomes the
   chief thing, and the outward act a merely secondary matter. A man may
   be forced to right, but not to morality; only free, cheerful action is
   moral. That which in the sphere of right is wrong, becomes in the moral
   sphere moral guilt. The intention of the moral action directs itself
   primarily upon the rational subject himself, wills his welfare; but, as
   rationality has a general significancy, this intention looks also to
   the general welfare, to the realizing of the rational will and hence of
   rationality in general, that is, to the good. To realize the good, is
   for the individual subject, duty,--is no longer a merely outward law,
   but an inner, freely appropriated one. The good as the unity of the
   notion of the rational will and of the particular will of the
   individual subject, is the end, the goal of the universe.

   But in the accomplishing of this duty of realizing the good, the
   subject finds himself involved in a multitude of contradictions and
   conflicts; the outer objective world is, as related to the subject, a
   something different from and independent of him; hence it is doubtful
   and fortuitous whether or not it is in harmony with the subjectively
   moral ends,--whether or not the subject finds his well-being in it. The
   abstract right was a merely outward and formal one; morality is a
   merely inward subjective something,--has harmony only as a postulate,
   as an "ought;" the good is, as yet, only the abstract idea of the good;
   hence there is need of a third, higher stage wherein the subjective and
   the objective phases are united, where the postulate of the harmonizing
   of the two spheres is realized, where the ought is also reality, where
   the good is no longer an abstract general something over against which
   the subject stands as yet as an isolated individual, but where the good
   has attained to reality, where freedom has become nature, and law has
   become custom. This brings us, (3), to the sphere of customariness--the
   completion of the objective spirit. In customariness the spirit enters
   into its true reality; the person finds the good outside of himself, as
   a reality to which he subordinates himself, as a moral world. Thus
   Hegel, deviating from the ordinary usage of language, distinguishes
   morality [moralität] from customariness [sittlichkeit], conceiving the
   former as the merely subjective and individual morality, and the latter
   as civic or social morality. In the sphere of morality man is
   considered as an individual who determines himself according to
   abstract moral laws; in that of customariness he is considered as an
   essential member of a moral community, of a moral whole, so that he now
   fulfills not abstract laws, but the requirements of the concrete-become
   spirit of a moral, social reality. Hence the end of customariness is
   primarily and immediately, not the individual, but the moral whole. The
   moral organisms constituted by reason as become objective, present
   themselves in the three development-stages of the family, of civil
   society (in which the individual subjects are bound together only by
   legal relations), and of the state, in which appears the full reality
   of morality.--The state is the moral substance as conscious of
   itself,--the objectively-realized moral and rational spirit, the union
   of the principle of the family and of civil society, the outer full
   realization of freedom,--inasmuch as here the moral reality rests no
   longer (as in the case of the family) upon a nature-ground, and no
   longer (as in the case of civil society) upon merely outward legal
   relations, but upon the common consciousness wherein the individuals
   are conscious of themselves as organic members of the whole. Hence the
   state is the per se rational existence, the highest manifestation of
   moral reason in general.--Hegel conceives the state in higher
   significancy than antecedent philosophers, namely, not as a mere means
   for the end of the individual citizens, but as end per se, to which the
   individual must sacrifice his particular and finite ends. This is a
   decided advance, especially in contrast to the utterly perverse and
   entirely anti-Christian state-doctrine of the eighteenth century, when
   it was regarded as perfectly self-evident that the state has no other
   task than to serve the interests of individuals, whether the interests
   of the individual citizens of a state, or the interests of a class in
   society, or those of a prince, but not to fulfill a moral idea. But the
   state is also here the ultimate and highest form. of all morality, as,
   indeed, Hegel recognizes no higher existence yon-side the finite
   reality of the natural All, but not an absolutely self-existent,
   infinite, personal spirit. The purely moral reality of the
   church,--which in its purely spiritual interests is far above the
   necessary outward limitations of the state, far above classes of
   society and national boundaries, and has a super-mundane eternal goal,
   and which, as resting absolutely upon freedom, does not exert coercive
   power,--finds no room for itself in Hegel's system. All morality,
   without exception, appertains to the state, and all reality of the
   church must be merged into it,--a doctrine which of course was
   especially favorable to the absolutism of politics then in vogue. All
   that was usually ascribed to the church in its significancy for the
   moral, falls here to the state, while religion is regarded only as the
   basis, but not as the essential reality, of the moral spirit. "The
   state should be reverenced as an earthly-divine element; the state is
   divine will as present and developing itself into the real form and
   organism of a world." Hence with Hegel, as also with the Greeks,
   morality is merged in the state, and has no significancy beyond it.
   "What man has to do, what the duties are which he has to fulfill, is,
   in a moral community, easy to determine: nothing else is to be done by
   him than that which is prescribed, expressed, and made known, in his
   relations." That this moral community may also be morally a very
   perverted one, and that consequently man may be morally obligated to
   resist it, and that even the most perfect actual state, does not
   embrace the whole field of the moral community-life,--of all this the
   Hegelian system takes no account. In the carrying-out of the
   classification of the moral subject-matter, the "Philosophy of Right"
   varies largely in many places from the presentation given in the
   "Encyclopedia" and in the "Phenomenology of the Spirit." The transition
   from morality to customariness seems artificial and very arbitrary. The
   freedom of choice here largely brought into requisition is entirely
   without justification in the system, and even contradictory thereto.
   The classification itself is also not rigorously kept apart, nor indeed
   can it be; the sphere of right falls largely into that of civil
   society, in so far as there is any real attempt at carrying it out; and
   the protection of right, which according to Hegel falls into the sphere
   of civil society, is utterly impossible without the state. Furthermore,
   it is worthy of note that Hegel, in perfect consistency with the
   principle naturally following from his system, namely, that "all that
   is real is also rational," regards war, not as an evil, but as a
   phenomenon necessarily connected with the highest moral community-life
   or the state, and, hence, as entirely rational, and which simply
   expresses in act the frailty and finiteness inherent in all finite
   being, and which has in the moral sphere the same inner necessity and
   normalcy, as death in the nature-sphere; war is death exalted into the
   moral sphere. [246]

   The Hegelian school, dividing itself soon after the master's death into
   a right wing, which progressively drew nearer to the Christian
   consciousness, and into a left wing, which sank lower and lower in the
   direction of radicalism and destructiveness, has not produced any very
   important results in the ethical field. (Michelet gave a "System of
   Philosophical Ethics," 1828; Von Henning presented the "Principles of
   Ethics," historically, 1824); Vatke ("Human Freedom in its Relation to
   Sin and to Grace," 1841) develops, in opposition to Julius Müller's
   "Presentation of the Christian Doctrine of Sin," the Hegelian view in a
   very ingenious manner, without, however, succeeding in reconciling the
   unfreedom essentially inherent in the Pantheistic System with the
   general consciousness of moral freedom of choice; evil, though regarded
   as ultimately to be overcome, is yet held to be an absolutely necessary
   incident of the good. Daub and Marheineke undertook, in their ethical
   works, [247] the vain and thankless task of giving to the Pantheistic
   ground-thoughts of Hegel such a turn, and of clothing them in such
   forms of expression, as to make them appear as a higher scientific
   expression of the Christian doctrines. But the rapidly disenchanted age
   soon saw clearly enough the impossibility of this undertaking. Daub's
   Ethics, as edited from his lectures in an easy and often conversational
   style, though proposing to present Biblical ethics, is yet unwilling to
   derive the moral law from the Scriptures, but seeks for it only in
   reason, regarding it as inherent therein, and forces the Biblical
   teachings, frequently with violence, into conformity to the already
   adopted system; the lofty self-complacency of the philosophizing
   theologian looks often contemptuously down upon the churchly
   consciousness, and oftener still, artfully explains away its
   significancy. Marheineke divides ethics into the doctrine of the law as
   the objective phase, into the doctrine of virtue as the subjective
   phase (virtue being taken as the harmonizing of the will with the law)
   and into the doctrine of duty. Despite a very pretentious style, the
   positive contents, consisting in many places merely in a loose series
   of single, and not always ingenious, and sometimes even insipid,
   observations, are really quite barren, and often involved in violent
   self-contradiction.

   The left wing of the Hegelian school,--which strayed still further from
   the master in the direction of a vulgar Pantheism based on Spinoza, and
   which does not rise in the ethical field even to the honest
   consequentiality and earnestness of Spinoza, but, for the most part,
   sinks back into the most vulgar freethinking of French
   materialism,--has shown itself utterly unfruitful in ethical works; it
   has made itself felt, on the field of ethics, less by scientific
   productions than by impudent assertion. David Strauss is unwilling to
   admit the fatalistic necessity of all the individual phenomena of life,
   so consequentially affirmed by Spinoza; but he gives scope, without
   hesitation, to chance and to arbitrary discretion, and affirms (of
   course without any justification in his system) even the freedom of the
   human will. What the world had not as yet known, Strauss presumes to
   assert, and takes the liberty of blankly contradicting the principle of
   Spinoza, that the human will is a causa non libera, sed coacta. In his
   view, Pantheism alone guarantees the free self-dependence of man. If
   God is immanent in the world, and hence also in man; if, as in the
   Christian world-theory, the finite stands over against the absolute
   Agent as a distinctly different object, then is this finite (the world)
   only in a condition of absolute passivity; but in Pantheism the
   absolute actuosity lies in the collectivity of finite agencies, as
   their own activity. While in monotheism it holds good, that as truly as
   God is almighty so truly are men unfree, in Pantheism it holds good
   that as certainly as God is- self-active so truly are men also so, in
   whom He is so. [248] What the drift of this special-pleading inference
   is, appears at once from the following observations: "This holds good,
   of course, only of our conception of the divine essence; whether it
   holds good also in the reciprocal relation of finite things, where
   Spinoza denies it, is another question, and one which does not concern
   us in this place." He makes, however, in this connection, in order to
   maintain against Spinoza the freedom of the will, also the following
   very curious observation: "Spinoza declares individual man as unfree,
   for the reason that only that determinedness of his essence and
   activity remains to him which all other things leave to him; but in
   this connection he overlooked the fact that also, conversely, only that
   much remains to all other things which the individual leaves to them;
   this is of course not freedom of choice, but it is also not coercion."
   The honest Spinoza would doubtless have shaken his head in astonishment
   at this naïve objection.--Strauss, naturally enough, recognizes also,
   as the highest moral reality, the state as separated from the church
   and as entirely swallowing it up within itself; in the place of the
   worshiping of God must be substituted art, and especially the theater;
   for genuine morality, that, is, for the life in the state, religion is
   not only superfluous but hurtful; for whoever thinks he has, outside of
   his duties as a citizen of the state, still other duties as a citizen
   of heaven, will, as a servant of two masters, necessarily neglect the
   first class of duties. [249] In this expression of opinion he gives to
   governments a very significant hint, as to how dangerous for the state
   is an ecclesiastically pious disposition in the people, and how great
   is the duty of an enlightened government to guard against it.--Lewis
   Feuerbach, who finds in religion only a morbid delusion, namely, in
   that man regards his own being as a divine object, declares religion,
   and especially the Christian religion, as the destruction of morality,
   inasmuch as it makes the validity of the moral law dependent on
   religious faith. Nature is every thing, and exclusively so; to follow
   the voice of nature is the highest principle of morality. This voice,
   however, teaches us love to our fellow-men, whereas religion teaches
   only hatred against those who believe differently from us, and directs
   the love and activity of man, not toward other men, but toward a
   non-existing being--God; only the religionless man can have universal
   love to man, which is per se always practical atheism, namely, a denial
   of God in heart, in sentiment, and in act. For a scientific
   justification of these wonderful assertions we seek in vain; morbid
   bombast supplies its place. That this theory of morality must lead to
   the vulgarest enjoyment-seeking, is perfectly natural; and Feuerbach
   himself explains himself as to the nature of this morality of human
   love, very clearly, thus: "When I am hungry then nothing is more
   important to me than the enjoyment of food,--after the meal, nothing
   more than rest, and after rest, nothing more than exercise; after
   exercise, nothing more than conversation with friends; after the
   completion of the work of the day, I court the Brother of Death as the
   most beneficent of beings; thus every moment of the life of man has
   something,--but nota bene!--something human in it." [250]

   Thus the philosophy of "modern science" has returned, in rapid circuit,
   back to the morality of French materialism, to the practical morality
   of Philip of Orleans under Louis XV. The more advanced and almost
   insane productions of the still more "radical" circle, especially of
   the circle of "emancipated" ones,--which formed itself around Bruno and
   Edgar Bauer, and by whom even Feuerbach was soon stigmatized (Max
   Stirner) as belonging among "theologians, "believing hypocrites" and
   "slavish- natures,"--belong not in the sphere of a history of science,
   but, at best, only in that of the history of the morals of the
   nineteenth century.

   We will mention additionally, in passing, only the materialistic
   world-theory, which, though not directly springing from the Pantheistic
   philosophy, yet coincides with it in its ultimate results, and which
   has its origin more in the empirical study of nature than in
   philosophy, and which in its moral views has sunk back to the French
   materialism of the Systéme de la Nature (Moleschott, Vogt, Büchner,
   etc.). If spirit is simply a phenomenon. of brain-force, and if man is
   nothing more than a highly organized animal, then the moral catechism
   is very easy and short. Vogt declares it as presumption in man to
   pretend to be any thing essentially different from the brute; man
   belonged originally to the ape race, and has only gradually developed
   himself somewhat more highly. Man is guided and impelled, just as the
   brute, by his own nature, that is, bly the laws of his material
   existence, and with inner irresistible necessity; every so-called act
   of the will is strictly a necessary product of the material conditions
   of the brain and of the outer sensuous impressions, as determined by
   nutrition and by the peculiarity of the brain-substance. Hence also
   there can be no manner of moral responsibility; all so-called sins and
   crimes are only "consequences of a defective nutrition and of an
   imperfect organization of the brain." The distinguishing between
   morally good and evil actions is merely a self-deception; "to
   comprehend every thing involves also the justifying of every thing,"
   says Moleschott. Hence, the moral amelioration of man takes place
   solely through suitable and strengthening nutrition. "The more fully we
   are conscious that by the proper proportioning of carbonic acid,
   ammonia, and the salts, etc., we are contributing to the highest
   development of mankind, so much the more are also our efforts and work
   ennobled." Upon eating and drinking, these writers naturally enough lay
   very great emphasis; it appears to them as a sacred rite, and
   Moleschott is not ashamed even to compare it with the holy eucharist.
   It was also reserved for this writer to stigmatize the Christian
   world-theory and Christian custom as detrimental to the public good,
   and for this, among other reasons, that thereby the national wealth
   suffers a considerable loss from the practice of burying corpses in
   special graveyards, whereas the bodies of the dead should rather be
   used for manuring the fields. Those who look always for the truth
   simply in a "progress" beyond that which has hitherto been known and
   practiced, can perhaps inform us what the next further progress beyond
   this world-theory will lead to.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [246] Phanomenol., p. 358; Phil. des Rechts, pp. 417, 427, sqq.

   [247] Daub: Prolegomena zur Moral, 1839; System d. theol. Moral., 1840;
   Marheineke: System d. theol. Moral., 1847.

   [248] Glaubenslehre, ii, 364.

   [249] Glaubenslehre, ii, 615 sqq.

   [250] Werke, i, 355.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLVII.

   The philosophical ethics of the two last decades, based in general on
   Hegel or on Herbart, shows a manifestly growing approximation to the
   Christian world-theory; but because of the rather
   unphilosophically-inclined spirit of the age, it has exerted less
   influence upon society at large than the immediately preceding
   philosophy.

   The most recent times have suddenly shown, after an excessive and
   almost morbid intensity of enthusiasm for philosophy, an all the
   greater lack of earnest interest therein. The excessive expectations
   were soon followed by, discouraging disappointments; and while at the
   beginning of the century the most crude products of philosophy, if they
   were only presented with assurance, were sure of an enthusiastic
   welcome, the, in general, far more mature and more scientific and
   profound works of recent times have met with but cold indifference; and
   though the philosophers of the present day have some reasons to
   complain of the thanklessness of the educated world, and that only
   ambitious rhetoric is now able to win applause, nevertheless this state
   of things is clearly explainable as a reaction from the wild
   intoxication of the past.

   Nearly contemporaneously with Hegel wrote Herbart of Königsberg. Taking
   up his position outside of the historical development-course of
   philosophy, and, in keen skepticism, discarding the unity of the
   principle of reality, he had in his elegantly written "Practical
   Philosophy" (1808) thrown open a new path. In his view the previous
   treatment of ethics, as the doctrine of goods, of virtues and of
   duties, makes the will of a twofold character--a norming or commanding
   one, and a derived or obeying one,-- and hence makes of the will its
   own regulator; but this is impossible and absurd. On the contrary, a
   will-less judgment as to willing precedes all actual willing; this
   judgment cannot command, but only approve or disapprove; but it never
   acts upon the will as strictly isolated, but always as a member of a
   relation. Hence all willing presupposes moral taste, which has pleasure
   in the morally-beautiful; thus the moral is conceived essentially
   esthetically. The esthetical judgment as to the will leads it to action
   but not necessarily; the will should be obedient, but it can be
   disobedient; taste is immutable, the will. is flexible; thus manifests
   itself the idea of inner freedom. Together with this idea Herbart
   assumes still others,--ideas which are connected, but reduced to no
   real unity, with this idea, and which precede all exertion of will,
   namely, the ideas of perfection, of benevolence, of right, and of
   fitness; by virtue of these five ideas the moral taste passes upon an
   act of the will, directly and involuntarily, a judgment of approval or
   disapproval. The full realization of the moral is society, as
   expressing itself in different stages.--This work of Herbart, though
   little regarded in its day, contains in its details many profound and
   ingenious thoughts; the violently original character of the whole is
   very stimulating, but not satisfying; the unity of the theory as a
   whole is defective.--Hartenstein wrote in the spirit of Herbart, his
   "Fundamental Notions of the Ethical Sciences," 1844, a work full of
   thought, and presenting a much more candid view of the realities of
   life than the writers of the Hegelian school, and not unfrequently
   assailing Schleiermacher and Hegel with keenness and success. As
   primitive ethical ideas, he assumes those of inner freedom, of
   benevolence, of right and of fitness. Similarly also Allihn:
   "Fundamental Doctrines of General Ethics," 1861.--(Beneke: "Elements of
   Ethics," 1837, entirely empirical, and only partially based on
   Herbart.--Elvenich: "Moral Philosophy," 1830, based on
   evangelically-modified Kantian views.)

   The "Speculative Ethics" (1841) of Wirth sprang from the Hegelian
   school, but deviates therefrom in many respects; the Pantheistic
   fundamental view is not entirely overcome; (ethics is "the science of
   the absolute spirit as will realizing its absolute self-consciousness
   into its likewise infinite reality;" in details it offers many good
   thoughts, though also many mere empty phrases, especially where it
   treats of religious morality; to close the development of ethics with
   an amateur-theater as one of the most important moral agencies, is
   surely a very odd fancy).-- Chalybäus of Kiel: "'System of Speculative
   Ethics," 1850,--doubtless the most important treatise on philosophical
   ethics in modern times. Chalybäus, in his work, breaks entirely away
   from the Pantheistic view of Hegel, and treats ethics on the basis of
   the idea of personal freedom, and does not, as Hegel, regard the ideal
   and the real as in perfect harmony, but on the contrary recognizes evil
   as merely possible in virtue of freedom, and hence its reality as only
   fortuitous and guiltily-incurred, but not as necessary. A candid, sound
   view of reality is combined with an ingenious development of thought in
   clear vigorous language; and notwithstanding a few cases of the
   lowering of Christian doctrines, this philosophical ethics expresses
   the Christian consciousness, in many cases, more faithfully than does
   Rothe's "Theological Ethics."--Also J. H. Fichte (son of the
   philosopher) places himself in his "System of Ethics," 1850, upon a
   decidedly theistical stand-point, and strongly emphasizes the idea of
   personality, which in Hegel falls into so dubious a back-ground. (The
   essence of the moral appears as love, which, as an "unselfing of the
   personal ego," is carried out somewhat one-sidedly so far as to throw
   the validity of self and of right quite too much into the
   back-ground.)--K. P. Fischer (of Erlangen): "Elements of a System of
   Speculative Ethics," 1851,--briefer than the preceding works, freighted
   with thought,--likewise an essential advance of recent philosophy
   toward a deeper comprehension of the Christian consciousness.
   (Martensen: "Outlines of a System of Moral Philosophy," 1845.
   Schliephake: "The Bases of the Moral Life," 1855,--inspired by Krause,
   empirical toward the close, but keen and judicious).--In this place
   belongs also, in part, the ingenious and deeply Christian work of
   Stahl: "The Philosophy of Right--" [251] based in the beginning rather
   on Schelling, but afterward more independent; the idea of the human
   personality as a copy of the personality of God is, in contrast to all
   naturalistic philosophy, raised to the full significancy and to the
   foundation of all morality and of all right.

   (The preposterously original Schopenhauer goes back to Indian
   conceptions, and finds morality only in an annihilating of the
   individuality. The will to live is the root of all evil; the denying of
   this will is virtue. The will must turn away from existence, must turn
   to will-lessness; for existence is absolutely null, and the will a
   delusion, from which we must become free, Vulgar suicide is indeed not
   right, for it is a phenomenon of a strongly-affirming will; on the
   contrary, a voluntary starving of one's self to death is a real moral
   sacrificing of the will to live. "The two Fundamental Problems of
   Ethics," 1841; "The World as Will and Conception," 1819, '44, '60.)
     __________________________________________________________________

   [251] 1830, 3 ed., 1851.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLVIII.

   The Theological ethics of the nineteenth century, in so far as it came
   not into a relation of complete dependence upon some particular
   philosopher of the day, remained either upon a purely Biblical ground,
   mlaking no use or only a very moderate use of philosophical thoughts,
   or assumed a rather eclectico-philosophical character. Rationalism
   proved surprisingly unfruitful.

   Ethics was treated in a predominantly original manner by
   Schleiermacher, in a widely differing and irreconcilable double-form of
   philosophical and of theological ethics,--in the former case entirely
   irrespective of the God-consciousness, and in the latter, from the
   inner nature of the pious Christian consciousness,--with great richness
   and ingenuity of thought, but also without a rigidly scientific form,
   and, in a violently-revolutionary originality, in many cases beclouding
   the Biblical view with foreign thoughts.--Rothe shaped his "Theological
   Ethics" into a system of theosophic speculation, resting upon the
   philosophy of Hegel and Schleiermacher, but carried out in an unclear
   originality, covering almost the entire field of Christian
   doctrine,--constituting a work in which a pious mind, and exotic
   thoughts deeply endangering the Christian consciousness, go hand in
   hand.

   Although the scientific treatment of the subject-matter of ethics in
   the earlier and (in the main) Biblical moralists of the nineteenth
   century, may be regarded as relatively feeble, yet they have this not
   to be despised significancy, that in an age almost entirely estranged
   from Biblical Christianity they kept alive the consciousness of this
   estrangement, and faithfully held fast to the indestructible bases of
   Christian Ethics. Reinhard's "System of Christian Ethics" (1780-1815)
   has indeed neither any special depth of thought nor a rigidly
   scientific form, and contains many insipid and useless discussions, and
   furnishes no just comprehension of the inner essence of the moral idea;
   but yet it gives indication of a thorough examination of the
   Scriptures, and of an unprejudiced observation of real life, furnishing
   often in detail good and morally earnest discussions, and avoiding all
   eccentricity. His classification of the whole is poorly adapted to give
   a clear steadily-progressive development of the subject-matter. In his
   third edition Reinhard declares himself very decidedly against
   Kant.--Flatt of Tübingen in his "Lectures on Christian Ethics"
   (published by Steudel in 1823) gives only carefully-compiled, purely
   Biblical material, without impressing upon it-a scientific form.--F. H.
   C. Schwarz of Heidelberg in his "Evangelically-Christian Ethics," 1821,
   presents ethics in two different forms, in the first volume in a
   scientific, in the second in an edificatory form, but which is designed
   to serve at the same time in elucidation of the first,--presenting for
   the most part a simple evangelical view, brief, clear,--but without
   deeper foundation.

   De Wette has furnished a threefold treatment of ethics, which more than
   the above-mentioned works is imbued with philosophical thoughts (from
   the stand-point of the Kantian Fries). His "Christian Ethics" (1819)
   one half of which is occupied by the history of ethics (which is
   introduced between the general and the special part), is more ingenious
   than profound, and does not appreciate the full significancy of the
   evangelical consciousness. His "Lectures on Christian Ethics," 1824,
   are intended for a wider circle of readers. (His Compendium of
   Christian Ethics, 1833, is only a brief outline.) With the exception of
   this rather Rationalistic than evangelical treatment of ethics,
   Rationalism has, contrary to what might have been expected, produced
   but very little in the ethical field. The next most noticeable work is
   Ammon's (comp. § 43) later "Hand-book of Christian Ethics," (1823,
   '38), scientifically very unimportant, and containing, besides many
   examples and anecdotes, mostly only commonplace thoughts and mere
   objective observations, without in any degree going into the depth of
   the subject.--Baumgarten-Crusius in his "Compendium," [252] breaks
   already, in many respects, with Rationalism; his work is ill-digested,
   but in many respects instructive. Kähler, in his "Christian Ethics"
   (1833; a "Scientific Abridgment," 1835) hesitatingly endeavors to rise
   beyond the Rationalistic stand-point, and gives much that is peculiar,
   and also much that is superfluous.

   Philosophical and theological ethics were treated very profoundly and
   very peculiarly, but in a manner violently revolutionary and different
   from all precedent treatment of the subject, by Schleiermacher; indeed
   in no other science does the inner and unmediated scientific dualism of
   this writer appear so prominently as here. His critical acumen, his
   restlessly changing and almost fitfully metamorphosing productiveness,
   showed itself here under the most brilliant forms; but there is for
   that reason all the greater need of a cautious guarding against being
   deceived by the arts of his dialectic genius. Introduced into the field
   of philosophy by the study of the Greeks, and especially of Plato,
   enthusiastic for Spinoza, and building mostly upon him, but also
   powerfully incited by Fichte and Schelling, and uniting in himself the
   collective, anti-historical and anti-Christian culture of his day,
   Schleiermacher was not able to harmonize his Pantheistic and
   unhistorical metaphysics with his heart-Christianity, which latter,
   though sometimes drooping and wounded, yet grew constantly more and
   more vital with the advance of his years; he left these two forces
   standing side-by-side in his soul, and honestly entertained and
   expressed religious convictions with which his philosophical opinions
   stood in irreconcilable antagonism; and it would be a great mistake to
   undertake to interpret the ones by the others. Schleiermacher did not
   rise above this inner dualism,--a state which not every mind would be
   able to endure. In his first period, he manifested in the field of
   ethics a keen critical power, but also as yet great unclearness as to
   the positive essence of Christian morality; and he did not keep free
   from some of the serious errors of the uncurbed spirit of the age. The
   moral laxity of the "geniuses" then reigning supreme in the world of
   letters, threw its dusky shadows also over this mighty spirit. His
   justificatory "Letters" on Schlegel's immoral "Lucinde," 1800, were of
   a nature to be used, and unfortunately not without ground, by Gutzkow
   in countenancing the "rehabilitation of the flesh" which was then
   taught by this writer, and in casting reproach upon the sacredness of
   wedlock. [253] --In his "Discourses on Religion," 1799, which breathe a
   Spinozistic spirit under the drapery of poetic rhetoric, Schleiermacher
   declares also evil as belonging to, and co-ordinate in, the beauty of
   the universe. Morality rests upon religion. In his "Monologues," 1800;
   which emphasize the ethical phase, there is manifested a bold,
   high-aiming self-feeling,--the full, overflowing self-consciousness of
   the youthful genius. Self-examination appears here as the basis and
   fountain of all wisdom,--not indeed in the sense, that man is to
   compare himself in his reality with an idea or a divinely-revealed law,
   in order to arrive at humility and at a consciousness of his need of
   redemption, but on the contrary it is an immersing of self in one's own
   immediate genial reality as the fountain of all truth and strength,--a
   full, self-satisfying enjoyment of self, a pride-inspired
   self-mirroring of a nobly-aspiring spirit. [254] Though this unhumble
   spirit of self-enjoying was not peculiar to him, but was rather the
   spirit then dominant among the excessively self-conscious "geniuses" of
   the day, still there lhy therein the germ of an ethico-scientific
   peculiarity of Schleiermacher, as against the Kantian school. In the
   latter, individual man is a mere moral exemplar shaped after a general
   pattern, merely a single fulfiller of an impersonal moral law, the
   essence of which consists precisely in not recognizing the peculiarity
   of the person, but in throwing it off, and in giving validity only to
   the general. Schleiermacher maintains, on the contrary, that every man
   is to represent humanity in a peculiar manner, and that, accordingly,
   it is the very opposite of correct to propose to one's self simply the
   question, "whether this my maxim is adapted to be exalted into a law
   for all men." Even as the artist does not produce an object of beauty
   by representing simply abstract, mathematically-correct forms, but by
   expressing that which is individually-peculiar, so is also the moral
   man to be an artist, an artist whose task it is to develop himself into
   a personally peculiar art-work, and not merely into a monotonous
   expression of the species. He is not to strip off, but, on the
   contrary, artistically to develop, his personal peculiarity,--he is not
   to cast himself down before duty as a thought different from his
   individual personality, but rather on the contrary "constantly to
   become more fully what he is; this is his sole desire." Thus
   Schleiermacher, in opposing the Kantian one-sidedness, involves himself
   in the opposite one; both positions are equally true and equally
   untrue, and the Christian view stands in the middle-ground between
   them. If the Kantian view answers rather to the Old Testament
   law-system, then that of Schleiermacher would answer rather to the
   Christian idea of the freedom of the children of God (at least,--in
   case it were applied to spiritually-regenerated children of God, which,
   however, is not the case), so that consequently the presentiment of the
   higher truth turns into untruth,--into a perilous holding-fast to self,
   and this all the more so for the reason that it is absolutely and
   independently based upon mere self, for "from within came the high
   revelation, produced by no teachings of virtue and by no system of the
   sages."

   The "Elements of a Criticism of Preceding Ethics," 1803,--able but in a
   heavy and often unclear style, and hence more celebrated than
   known,--relate only to philosophical ethics, and discard, in keen but
   sometimes unjust criticism, all previous methods of treating this
   science, and present (as opposed to the more usual method of treating
   of ethics as the doctrine of virtues or duties) the doctrine of goods
   as the basis of the science, and, hence, ethics as an analysis of the
   highest good; the good is the objective realization of the moral. The
   criticism of the work is applied not so much to the contents as to the
   scientific form, and seeks to show that the contents can be true only
   when the form is perfect; there is no other criterion of truth in
   ethics than the scientific form. Plato and Spinoza are esteemed most
   highly. In explaining away the almost unbounded self-feeling of the
   author, large account must be made for the spirit of the times; less
   care is given to the demonstration of his own view than to the
   many-sided assailing of the views of others.

   The "Sketch of a System of Ethics" (published in 1835 by
   Schweizer,--from Schleiermacher's posthumous papers, in an imperfect
   digest of different sketches; in a briefer and more general form in
   1841 as "Outlines of Philosophical Ethics" with an introductory preface
   by Twesten) [255] rests upon the philosophy of Spinoza and the earlier
   views of Schelling, but contains speculations in many respects
   peculiar, and not always sufficiently developed. In this philosophical
   ethics Schleiermacher leaves entirely out of consideration the
   Christian consciousness, and indeed the religious consciousness. in
   general,--knows nothing of a personal God as moral Lawgiver, nor of an
   immortal personal Spirit independent of nature; this religious basis is
   left so entirely in the background that Schleiermacher (as late as in
   1825) answered the question: whence, then, arose in the moral law the
   idea of a "should," which seems to refer to a commanding will? by
   saying, that in the Jewish legislation the divine will had been
   conceived as of a magisterial character demanding obedience; and that
   this form had also been adopted in Christian instruction, and "thus
   arose the custom of associating with moral knowledge also the should,'
   and this custom was retained even after men had begun to reduce moral
   knowledge to a general form, wherein there was no longer any reference
   to an outwardly-revealed divine will, but human reason itself was
   regarded as the legislating factor." [256] The two manifestation-forms
   of God in Spinoza, namely, thought and extension, and the primitive
   antithesis of Schelling, reappear here as the antithesis of the
   universe in reason and nature, in the ideal and the real. The highest
   antithesis in the world is the antithesis of material (known) and of
   spiritual (knowing) existence. The existence in which the former
   element predominates is nature; the existence in which the knowing
   element predominates is reason, the two appearing in man as body and
   soul. Hence reason is essentially knowing, and, in so far as it is
   self-active, willing. Speculative reason is ethics, which has, then,
   physics over against itself, the two embracing the whole field of
   science, so that ethics appears essentially as the collective
   philosophy of the spirit,--an entirely unjustifiable deviation from all
   previous nomenclature. [257] Ethics presents the collective operation
   of active human reason upon nature. Hence the aim of moral-effort is,
   the perfect interpenetration of reason and nature, a permeation of
   nature by reason, and indeed of all nature in so far as standing in
   connection with human nature. This interpenetration is the highest
   good, [258] the sum total of all single goods; it is embodied in the
   thought of the Golden Age, where man dominated absolutely over nature,
   and in the thought of everlasting peace, of the perfection of
   knowledge, and in the thought of a kingdom of heaven, and in a free
   communion of the highest self-consciousness by means of spiritual
   self-representation. In the individual the attainment of the moral goal
   appears as personal perfection, as a perfect unity of nature with
   intelligence, and hence as a perfect blessedness.--But the unity of
   reason and nature is to be conceived in a threefold manner: (1) In
   reference to the end-point of the moral striving, namely, the real
   unity of reason and nature, as the highest good; herein is embraced the
   multiplicity of particular manifestations of said unity, and hence of
   good; this is ethics as the doctrine of goods or as the doctrine of the
   highest good; (2) in reference to the beginning-point of the moral
   striving, namely, the efficiency of reason in human nature, and hence
   said unity conceived as power, that is, as virtue,--the doctrine of
   virtue; [259] (3) in reference to the relation between the
   beginning-point and the end-point, and hence in the movement of the
   power toward the goal, and consequently a modus operandi of reason in
   realizing the highest good; this is the doctrine of duties. [260] Hence
   a threefold manner of presenting ethics is possible and necessary; each
   embraces really the whole field of the moral, but as considered from a
   different point of view; each, however, refers to the others. In giving
   all the goods, one must give at the same time all the virtues and
   duties, and the converse. However, the doctrine of goods is the most
   self-based and independent, because it embraces the ultimate goal.
   "Every definite existence is good in so far as it is a world for
   itself, a copy of absolute being, and hence in the disappearing of the
   antitheses"; [261] a good is "every harmony of particular phases of
   reason and nature,"--that wherein "the interpenetration of reason and
   of nature is independently brought about, in so far as this unity of
   reason and nature bears itself like the whole in an organic manner.
   [262] --The doctrine of goods alone is fully developed, while the
   doctrine of virtue and of duties is treated but very briefly and
   meagerly.

   In the doctrines of goods Schleiermacher distinguishes a twofold moral
   activity: (1) In so far as reason exerts itself upon nature as external
   to it, it is organizing, in that it makes nature an organ of reason;
   (2) in so far as the interpretation of reason and nature is already
   posited, the activity of reason is of a symbolizing character, in that
   it makes itself recognizable in its work. These two activities manifest
   themselves in turn in two different manners. In as far, namely, as
   reason is the same in all men, in so far also these two activities are
   alike in all; but in as far as individual men are originally and in
   their very idea different from each other, in so far also is the
   activity of an individual character, shaping itself in a peculiar
   manner in each individual. This notion of a legitimate personal
   peculiarity, Schleiermacher emphasizes very strongly, without, however,
   really grounding it philosophically.--Virtue expresses itself either as
   enlivening or as militant: as enlivening, it expresses the harmonious
   union of reason and nature; as militant, it overcomes the resistance of
   nature; under another phase it is either cognoscitive or
   representative; thus we arrive at four cardinal virtues:--the
   enlivening virtue as cognoscitive or representative is wisdom or
   soundness of judgment; as representative it is love; the militant
   virtue as cognoscitive is prudence; as representative it is
   persistence. (In his academical Dissertation on the notion of virtue,
   Schleiermacher varies in form somewhat from his System of Ethics.)--The
   very unequal carrying out of the subject in detail presents, together
   with great acumen, also much unsound and fruitless sophistry; the
   brilliant thoughts shoot forth in every direction in sharp-cut
   crystal-gleams before the dazzled eye of the beholder, but often only
   to dissolve themselves suddenly again into a state of formless
   fluidity. The interrupted, incomplete, un-uniform presentation, as
   given in the hastily-edited edition, render the reading of this work
   very difficult, and the ethical results appear by no means so rich as,
   from the pretensions of the system, one might be led to expect; and it
   is often impossible to resist the impression that the work abounds in
   unprofitable sophistry. The academical Essays that belong here, though
   ably developed, present after all but mere fragments of the whole.

   A wholly different picture is furnished by the Theological Ethics,
   which was edited by Jonas in 1843, from Schleiermacher's posthumous
   papers, and from notes written by his hearers, under the title:
   "Christian Ethics according to the Principles of the Evangelical
   Church." [263] The idea of the moral is developed from the
   Christianly-determined self-consciousness; hence ethics is the analysis
   and presentation of the Christian self-consciousness, in so far as the
   same tends to pass over into act. The moral subject is not considered
   as a mere isolated individual, but predominantly as being a member of
   the Church, and as influenced by the spirit of the Church. The state of
   the human self-consciousness as in communion with God through Christ,
   is salvation and blessedness. This salvation, however, is primarily
   merely an incomplete but progressive one, seeing that we are always
   still in need of redemption; hence our life is a constant alternation
   of pleasure and unpleasure, and therein lies an "impulse" to activities
   in view of arriving at true blessedness. In unpleasure lies the impulse
   to a manner of action whereby the momentarily-disturbed normal state is
   to be restored, that is, a restorative or purifying manner of action;
   in pleasure lies the impulse to a manner of action which subordinates a
   lower life-power (as willingly yielding itself to a higher one)
   directly and without any resistance to the higher one, thus educating
   the lower power, and, hence, deepening and extending the harmony of the
   two,--the deepening and extending manner of acting. Both manners of
   acting aim at effecting something, at bringing about a change, and,
   hence, constitute unitedly the operative form of action, whereby man is
   to pass from one condition into another. The purifying form of action
   relates primarily to Christian communion, and appears as
   Church-discipline and as Church-reform (reformatory action); and then
   again, in relation to civil society, as domestic discipline, as the
   administration of civil justice, as State-reformation, and as purifying
   action in the relation of one state to another.--The extending form of
   action, which is essentially the educating of the, as yet lower, but
   willing life through the higher, takes place primarily in the sphere of
   the Church,--aims to widen and intensify the efficaciousness of the
   Holy Spirit as dwelling in the Church, and of Christian sentiment. This
   presupposes the propagation of the human race, the production of human
   personalities. Hence the extending form of activity in the Church is
   primarily the communion of the sexes, and then the inner extending and
   heightening of the life of the Church. Then also the extending form of
   action relates to the state, and looks to the training of all human
   talents, and to the transforming of nature for the spirit,--in both
   cases as one common act of all the individuals belonging to the human
   race, and hence a maturing of all the citizens through spiritual and
   material commerce; (in this connection it is treated of property, of
   trade, of money, etc.). This is the first part of ethics, that which
   embraces the operative form of action.

   Now, between the moments of pleasure and unpleasure there occur moments
   of satisfaction (and which are consequently distinguished from those of
   pleasure), that is, of relative blessedness, the fundamental feeling
   proper of the Christian, and which is at the same time also an impulse
   to acting. This acting, however, aims not at effecting a change, but
   only at revealing itself outwardly, at making known its condition of
   happiness to others, and hence is not an operative but a representative
   acting. The operative form of acting is only the way for attaining to
   the perfect dominion of the spirit over the flesh, that is, to the
   feeling of blessedness; and the active expression of this feeling and
   of this dominion is the representative form of action, which manifests
   this inner self-consciousness by means of communion with others, and
   hence from motives of love. The essence of love is the inner necessity
   of the constant intercommunion of self-consciousness as separated by
   personality,--rests upon communion, and develops it to a higher degree.
   Although the representative form of action takes its rise from the
   communion of the subject with God, yet this communion is mediated by
   the Holy Spirit that dwells in the Christian society. Hence the
   representative form of action relates primarily to the
   evangelically-religious communion,--is divine worship, or the sum total
   of all actions whereby we present ourselves as organs of God by means
   of the Holy Spirit; it embraces, in the wider sense, also the virtues
   of chastity, patience, endurance, humility, in so far as in them is
   manifested the dominion of the flesh over the spirit. Then again, this
   form of action relates to general human communion, which is the outer
   sphere of this action, as divine worship is the inner, in other words,
   the sphere of social life, the representative form of action in the
   intercourse of men, as not immediately connected with Christian
   communion, not, however, as an operative form of action, but
   predominantly merely as beholding and enjoying. In this connection,
   Schleiermacher considers, first, the social life proper, and
   particularly social intercourse in eating and drinking under
   circumstances of luxury and decoration, and, then, art, and lastly
   play.

   However much we may admire the creative genius whereby Schleiermacher
   endeavored to establish and carry out his highly peculiar
   classification of ethics, still in reality we cannot but declare it as
   unadapted and unsuccessful; and, in spite of the great and almost
   idolizing admiration shown by the public for the skillful
   thought-artist, this piece of art has not succeeded in calling forth
   any imitation. At the very first glance one recognizes the utter
   unnaturalness of making Christian ethics begin with Church-discipline
   and Church-reformation, and close with the subject of play; while, in
   the second part, is presented the widening form of action in
   Church-communion, and, in the third, the ecclesiastical worship of
   God,--as also the unnaturalness of placing sexual communion alongside
   of Church-communion as simply its presupposition, and of treating it
   only subsequently to the discussion of Church-discipline and domestic
   discipline,--and of treating of four Christian virtues, in isolation
   from all the others, under the head of divine worship, and among them
   that of chastity, which of course falls under the head of sexual
   communion, whereas in fact all and every other of the Christian virtues
   might with just as good right be treated under the rubric of divine
   worship. The chief subdivisions of Christian acting as purifying,
   extending and representative acting, cannot by any means be sharply
   separated from each other; on the contrary, in each one of them also
   the other is necessarily involved; the extending or distributive acting
   is not possible otherwise than by a representing. At all events the
   purifying activity could not be the first, for the obtaining and
   confirming of life-communion with God must, as moral activities,
   precede the purifying of the already-obtained communion. The feelings
   of pleasure and displeasure are, as pure states of experience, not by
   any means per se the bases of the Christianly-moral activity; both
   feelings may per se be just as readily-immoral as moral; and the first
   moral striving must be directed to the end that the pleasure and
   displeasure themselves be moral, whereas they are here presupposed
   unconditionally as "impulses" to the moral; but this system of ethics
   is not written for saints (who might indeed be regarded as determining
   themselves by the simple feeling of pleasure or unpleasure per se),
   since it sets out with a purifying form of action, relating to the
   subject himself. It is true, Schleiermacher brings this pleasure and
   displeasure into relation to communion with God; but the apostle
   distinguishes, also in the saints, a pleasure and a displeasure in this
   God-communion (Rom. vii, 22 sqq.); hence if there exists also in the
   Christian, before his final perfection, as yet an unpious pleasure and
   an unpious displeasure, it follows that the moral striving must in fact
   direct itself primarily upon this pleasure and unpleasure. Furthermore,
   the entirely unusual separating of the pious pleasure-feeling and of
   the blessedness-feeling (so fully that two chief-divisions of ethics
   are based thereupon), is neither justifiable nor practical. The
   objective goal of the moral activity, that is, the doctrine of moral
   good, is rather presupposed than developed. Knowledge or Christian
   wisdom is thrown quite disproportionately in the background, behind the
   subjects of feeling, of disposition, and of acting. In general we find,
   notwithstanding the great dialectic art employed, especially in the
   analysis of ideas, still quite frequently an indefiniteness and
   unfruitfulness of the moral ideas in their practical significancy,--an
   excessive prominence of the subjective peculiarity and a corresponding
   unprominence of a simple Biblical spirit. The ecclesiastical element
   with which, from unecclesiastical quarters, Schleiermacher has been
   reproached, is in fact reduced in him to its merest minimum. "With the
   exception of the free activity of the Holy Ghost nothing is to be
   regarded as absolutely fixed by the Holy Scriptures, but every thing as
   accepted only provisionally, and to be regarded as remaining subject to
   a constant revision." All symbolical settlings of doctrine are
   Romanizing, and must be made revocable. [264] We cannot see, however,
   why precisely the activity of the Holy Ghost is to be regarded as an
   absolutely-established point, and not also subject to a constant
   revision,--why it is not "revocable"; and just as little can we see why
   this activity, if it is valid at all, should not lead to a real
   knowledge of the truth, and hence to a definitively-established
   knowledge.

   Richard Rothe, standing in part upon Schleiermacher's stand-point, but
   also making use of Hegelian and Schellingian philosophy in combination
   with his own somewhat peculiar and daring form of speculation,
   furnishes, in his "Theological Ethics " (1845-'49, thoroughly revised,
   1867) a system of theosophy embracing also a large portion of dogmatics
   and even some extra-theological topics, which, however much we may
   admire its erudition and earnest thought-labor, yet, in view of its
   wonderful commingling of Christian faith, extra-Christian philosophy
   and extra-philosophical fantasy, we cannot avoid regarding as a
   failure. Rothe manifests, in contrast to a large number of more recent
   Speculative theologians, an estimable sense for scientific honesty; and
   where he deviates from the ecclesiastical and Biblical view (and this
   occurs in very essential and fundamental things) there he does not
   disguise the antithesis in fine-sounding words; not every one, however,
   could succeed so naïvely as Rothe in harmonizing with a pious faith in
   other respects, such questionable contradictions to the general
   Christian consciousness as are found, e. g., in his doctrines of the
   omniscience of God (which he limits to the past, the present, and the
   necessary), and in his doctrine of the church (which he treats in the
   spirit of entire anti-ecclesiasticism). His merely-apparently profound
   and frequently very unbridled speculations do not constitute a steadily
   progressive and regularly-developed line of thought, but are in many
   respects mere plays of thought and fantasy; and it is only after
   passing through these portions of the work (which, though treated with
   a certain amateur-fondness, are yet really very unfruitful of ethical
   results, and are presented in a not unfrequently sadly misused
   language), that we enter, in the third part, upon a frequently
   excellent, beautifully-presented, and really ethical current of
   thought, though not without also occasionally meeting with surprising
   eccentricities. Rothe's view of ethics as a science we have already
   mentioned (§ 3, § 4).--The moral task of man is, by virtue of his free
   self-determination, to appropriate material nature to his own
   personality; hence the idea of the moral is: "the real unity of the
   personality and of material nature, a unity as impressed upon nature by
   the personality itself in virtue of its nature-determining functions,
   or, the unity of the personality and of material nature as the
   appropriatedness of the latter to the former." Morality is an
   independent something alongside of piety, and rests by no means upon
   piety,--is entirely co-ordinate to and independent of it. Ethics falls
   into three divisions: it considers (1) the moral as being a product,
   that is, the pure and full manifestation of the moral in the unfolded
   totality of its special moments and of their organization into unity,
   that is, the moral world in its completeness--the doctrine of goods.
   The good is the normal real unity of the personality and of material
   nature, the appropriatedness of the latter to the former. Here Rothe
   considers, first, the highest good as an abstract ideal, irrespective
   of sin; (in this connection are treated also of six forms of moral
   communion, of which the highest and most comprehensive is the State;
   which is ultimately destined to embrace all moral life, and to absorb
   the communion of piety, namely, the church, into itself; the church has
   only a transitional significancy, but the state a higher, permanent
   one). Hereupon follows a complete treatment of eschatology. The other,
   next-following, phase is the highest good in its concrete reality; here
   it is treated, first, of sin, as something inhering in human nature,
   and hence necessary and originally co-posited in the divine world-plan;
   and, then, of redemption; where a complete doctrine of redemption is
   presented. (2) The causality or power bringing forth this product, that
   is, virtue, and hence the doctrine of virtue, is treated of in the
   second part, and, in connection therewith, also the corresponding
   un-virtues. (3) As this power is a self-determining one, hence there is
   need of a determined formula of the moral product, namely, a moral law,
   by the observing of which, on the part of the producing moral power,
   the real production of the moral world is conditioned, namely, the
   doctrine of duties, which in turn falls into the doctrine of
   self-duties and the doctrine of social duties.--In the two first and
   rather speculative parts of the work, Rothe treats of many things which
   one would not look for in a work on ethics, e. g., of pure matter, of
   space and time, of extension and motion, of atomic attraction and
   repulsion, of-gravity, of fluidity, of crystallization, of vegetation,
   of comets, and the like; these digressions into the sphere of natural
   philosophy belong among the oddities of the work. The excessively
   artificial schemata are repeated in constant and very strange
   application, the quadropartite division being throughout observed, even
   though the observing of it requires the invention of entirely new
   definitions and new words; and not unfrequently are found entirely
   useless and profitless splittings of ideas. The chief fault of this
   work, however, seems to us to lie in the fact, that it unhesitatingly
   lays at the foundation of Christian Ethics, theories which are utterly
   foreign to the Christian world-theory, such as that of the
   philosophical ethics of Schleiermacher, which, however, Schleiermacher
   himself declared to be inapplicable to Christian ethics. Rothe's notion
   of the moral is endurable only in a philosophical system such as
   Schleiermacher's; and, even there appearing only as an oddity, is not
   only per se entirely unsound, but also utterly in contradiction to the
   entire evangelico-ethical consciousness. This consciousness has as its
   moral goal something utterly other than the appropriating of material
   nature to the personal nature; the kingdom of God has with this nature
   primarily and essentially nothing to do.

   The other more recent writers on ethics keep themselves more
   independent of recent philosophy. The work of Harless: "Christian
   Ethics" (since 1842 in five almost similar editions; the sixth edition,
   1864, greatly enlarged), is a brief, able and purely-Biblical
   treatise,--practical, purely-evangelical and well written; but the
   scientific form is faulty; the ideas are not sharply distinguished nor
   always held fast to; the clearness is more frequently appearance than
   reality; the development of thought is neither vigorous nor
   uninterrupted; the classification (salvation-good,
   salvation-possession, salvation-preservation) is not capable of being
   kept distinct; the second and third parts overlap each other, for there
   is no possession without preservation; and what appears here as
   preservation is in fact possession; the general introduction is
   insufficient, and Harless himself says of his book, that it contains
   "no trace of a system." [265] --The work of Sartorius: "The Doctrine of
   holy Love, or Elements of Evangelico-Ecclesiastical Moral Theology,"
   (third edition, 1851-'56), is intended for the general public, and is
   not a scientific treatise, nor yet a book of edification; but it goes
   beyond the limits of mere ethics, and embraces love in the widest
   sense; hence it treats also of the love of God to himself, and of its
   realization in the Trinity, and to man,--also of creation and
   redemption, thus combining much dogmatical matter with ethics. The
   spirit of the work is purely evangelical, of ardent faith-enlivened and
   enlivening. The discussion, however, remains mostly in the sphere of
   the general; the individual moral phenomena are neither completely nor
   closely examined.--(W. Böhmer: "Theological Ethics," 1846-'53).--C. F.
   Schmid's "Christian Ethics," edited by Heller, 1861, is of a truly
   Biblical spirit,--earnest, judicious, and giving evidence of Christian
   life-experience; the scientific classification and form are not
   happy--are not derived fromf the subject-matter, but outwardly thrown
   upon it; many weighty points are omitted, and the manner of treatment
   is unequal.--Palmer's "Ethics of Christianity," 1864, is an outline
   destined for wider, cultivated circles; the view taken is sound and
   evangelical, morally earnest and judicious, and the style pleasing,
   light, and untechnical.--T. Culmann's "Christian Ethics," first part,
   1864, is based upon Baader's theosophy, and is in sharp antithesis to
   all rationalistic superficiality, although, notwithstanding its many
   ingenious and even profound thoughts, it strays away into many, and
   even anti-Scriptural, assumptions and dreamy brain-fancies.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [252] Lehrbuch, 1826.

   [253] Comp. Vorländer's: Schleierm.'s Sittenlehre, p. 69; C. H. Weisse
   in Tholuck's Litter. Anz., 1835, 408 sqq.; Twesten, in his preface to
   Schleiermacher's Grundriss, p. 76 sqq.

   [254] Compare the dissenting judgment of Twesten, idem, p. 83 sqq.

   [255] Comp. Vorländer: Schleierm.'s Sittenlehre, 1851,--keen and clear
   but not evangelical.

   [256] Werke, iii, 2, 403.

   [257] See his discussion of the difference between natural and moral
   law: Werke, iii, 2, 397.

   [258] Ueber das höchste Gut, 1827, '30; Werke, iii, 2, 446.

   [259] Comp. Abh. üb. d. Behundlung des Tugendbegriffs, 1819; idem 350.

   [260] Comp. Abh. üb. d. Behandlung des Pflichtbegriffes, 1824; idem
   379.

   [261] System, p. 54.

   [262] Ibid., p. 72.

   [263] Die christliche Sitte, etc.

   [264] Christl. Sitte., etc., Beil., p. 184.

   [265] Vorr. z. 6 Au. XV.
     __________________________________________________________________

  SECTION XLIX.

   The ethics of the Roman Catholic Church since the dissolution of the
   Order of the Jesuits has been becoming, even in the circles which stood
   in connection with this Order, considerably more cautious; in other
   respects it has been treated (when not casuistical) principally on the
   basis of Thomas Aquinas. The influence of recent philosophy has made
   itself in many respects apparent; in part, there has been also a
   noticeable approximation to the evangelical consciousness, without,
   however, rising beyond a hesitating half-way position. The
   ground-character of the Romish church as distinguished from the
   evangelical, namely, its tendency to conceive the moral predominantly
   under the form of law, whereas the latter conceives it more as virtue,
   remains the same even up to the present.

   During the last two centuries the ethics of the Roman Catholic church
   has made decided advances toward the better. The growing indignation
   against the perversion of the same by the Jesuits rendered even the
   Jesuits themselves more cautious, although also the works of the
   earlier Jesuits have- been very largely in use up to most recent times.
   Alphonzo de Ligorio's Theologia moralis, since 1757, (an enlargement of
   the work of Busenbaum), is yet to-day one of the most highly prized
   hand-books of ethics; (on it are based the works of Waibel: "Moral
   Theology," 1841-'47, and of Scavini: "Theologia Moralis," ninth
   edition, 1863.) The Jesuit Stattler of Ingolstadt (Ethica christiana
   communis, 1791) taught, however; pretty boldly the old principles of
   the Order; whereas, on the other hand, the opposition thereto was
   growing more emphatic, and has resulted in bringing about a purer moral
   view. The moralists who based themselves on the Scholastics, especially
   on Thomas Aquinas, have been very numerous; (Besombes, from and after
   1709; Amort, 1739, '58, who wrote also a system of "Casuistry," 1733,
   '62; Tournely, 1726 and subsequently; Concina, 1745; Patuzzi, 1770; and
   others); of the large number of ethical works, however, only a few have
   any thing original; the majority simply compile from their
   predecessors.--Under the influence of Kant, wrote Isenbiehl (1795),
   Muttschelle (1801, Schenkl (1803), and others; Riegler's "Christian
   Ethics," 1825, rests in part on Schenkl, and is much used, though
   scientifically unimportant. Braun, in his "System of Christian Catholic
   Ethics," (1834), and Vogelsang in his "Compendium" (1834), applied the
   philosophy of Hermes to ethics. Sailer's "Hand-Book of Christian
   Ethics," (1818, '34) is of a very mild and generally evangelical
   spirit; and the approximation to a purer evangelical view, though often
   somewhat infected with Rationalism, shows itself also in other more
   recent moralists. Hirscher's "Christian Ethics" (1835, fifth edition,
   1851) is doubtless scientifically the most important, and its general
   view is largely based on essentially evangelical principles;
   distinctively Romish views are in many cases very much modified and,
   advocate-like, idealized and brought nearer to evangelical views; this,
   however, is not accomplished without some sophistry. Also Stapf
   ("Christian Ethics," 1841; Theologia Moralis, fourth edition 1836)
   endeavors to shape the older ethics more Biblically; Jocham's "Moral
   Theology," 1852, is simple and clear; Martin, 1850-'51; Werner, 1850.

   These improvements of Romish ethics do not succeed, however, in
   changing its ground-character as in contrast to evangelical ethics; the
   notion of the meritoriousness of human works as co-working toward
   salvation is not yet overcome,--virtue is not mere thanks, but it
   establishes claims; the moral life is not the
   spontaneously-out-streaming radiance of the faith-inspired loving soul,
   but it is a something yet distinct from faith and relatively
   independent,--a laborious working upon salvation as only associatedly
   conditioned by faith, but not yet really obtained. The divine will has
   not as yet become an inner property of the believing soul in spiritual
   regeneration, but simply still hovers before it as a something other
   from and objective to it; hence the largely predominant character of
   legality in Romish ethics, even where, on the basis of Thomas Aquinas,
   the form of the doctrine of virtue is chosen. And here is manifestly
   the reason why the Romish form of theology has produced a far richer
   ethical literature than the Evangelical, seeing that in the Romish
   Church not merely the scientific but also the practical need for moral
   instructions and rules, is much greater than in the sphere of the
   Evangelican consciousness, which latter is no longer "under the law,"
   and has consequently in ethics less a practical than a purely
   scientific interest. To the Catholic the Gospel is essentially also a
   new law,--simply a further-development of the Old Testament law; and it
   is the task of ethics to digest this new legislation and shape it more
   or less into a statutory form; only to a Romish moralist is it possible
   to take up into a treatise on ethics a civil criminal code, as Stapf
   has done, in detailed thoroughness, with the Austrian. The Christian
   never succeeds, here, in bearing in himself the Divine will otherwise
   than in a law learned by study; the law and the moral subject still
   continue exterior to each other, and the former is objective to the
   latter; to act according to the authority of an outward law appears as
   a special-merit; the law interpenetrates not the human soul, and the
   soul not the law; there remains between the two an impassable gulf;
   hence the law and the person content themselves, at last, with the
   outward; obeying outweighs loving; and loving is never a merit, as
   obeying, however, may be. Because of the placing of faith simply
   along-side of works, there lacks to the moral the unitary center-point
   in the heart, and hence the good appears predominantly as a plurality
   of virtues, and the moral life predominantly as a countless sum of
   single cases; hence in Romish ethics the predominance of the
   casuistical treatment, which is not yet thrown aside even in the most
   recent treatises; the thought of ethics awakes at once in the
   Catholic's mind the notion of a Summa casuum; also, in this respect, we
   see a manifestation of the predominant character of externality. The
   notion of a God-sonship manifesting itself in a new free life never
   comes to full appreciation in Romish ethics; the notion of a son of the
   Church is, in it, much more familiar; and here at once the
   ecclesiastical State, with its legal character, steps into the
   fore-ground of the moral life.

   END OF HISTORY OF ETHICS.
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________
     __________________________________________________________________

                                    Indexes
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Scripture References

   Genesis

   [1]1:26-2:24   [2]1:28   [3]1:28-30   [4]2:2   [5]2:3   [6]2:15
   [7]2:16   [8]3:7   [9]3:15   [10]5:24   [11]6:22   [12]7:5
   [13]9:1-29   [14]10:8   [15]12:3   [16]12:3   [17]12:4   [18]12:11-13
   [19]15:15   [20]17:1   [21]18:18   [22]20:2-4   [23]22:18
   [24]24:12-14   [25]25:8   [26]26:3-5   [27]26:4   [28]26:4   [29]26:5
   [30]27:14-16   [31]27:28   [32]27:29   [33]28:3   [34]28:4
   [35]28:13-15   [36]30:24-26   [37]31:20   [38]34:1-31   [39]34:14-16
   [40]35:9-11   [41]35:22   [42]37:1-36   [43]37:35   [44]38:1-30
   [45]39:2   [46]39:3   [47]39:5   [48]39:23   [49]48:4   [50]49:5-7
   [51]49:14-16   [52]49:26   [53]49:29   [54]49:33

   Exodus

   [55]2:11-13   [56]3:1-22   [57]4:1-31   [58]19:5   [59]19:6
   [60]20:2   [61]20:2-4   [62]20:2-4   [63]20:3   [64]20:12   [65]20:17
   [66]23:16   [67]28:30

   Leviticus

   [68]11:45   [69]19:2   [70]25:23   [71]26:3-6   [72]26:12

   Numbers

   [73]6:26   [74]20:7-9   [75]26:55   [76]26:56   [77]27:21   [78]33:54
   [79]34:13

   Deuteronomy

   [80]4   [81]4   [82]4:1-49   [83]4:40   [84]5:1-33   [85]5:29
   [86]5:29   [87]5:33   [88]5:33   [89]6:2   [90]6:3   [91]6:5
   [92]6:6   [93]6:18   [94]6:20-22   [95]6:24   [96]6:25   [97]7:9
   [98]7:12   [99]7:13   [100]7:13-15   [101]8:3-5   [102]8:6-8
   [103]10:12   [104]10:12   [105]10:19-21   [106]11:1   [107]11:9-11
   [108]11:13   [109]11:21-23   [110]12:28   [111]13:3   [112]13:17
   [113]13:18   [114]15:4-6   [115]15:10   [116]15:15   [117]16:12
   [118]18   [119]26:16   [120]28:1-3   [121]28:47   [122]30:2
   [123]30:2-4   [124]31:16   [125]32:43   [126]32:47   [127]32:49-51
   [128]32:50

   Joshua

   [129]7:14-16   [130]13:6   [131]14:2   [132]18:6-8   [133]19:1-3
   [134]21:4-6   [135]22:5

   1 Samuel

   [136]10:20-22   [137]14:8-10   [138]23:6-8   [139]28:1-28   [140]28:6
   [141]30:7   [142]30:8

   2 Samuel

   [143]2:1   [144]5:19   [145]5:23-25

   2 Kings

   [146]2:1-25

   1 Chronicles

   [147]16:23   [148]16:28   [149]22:19   [150]28:9   [151]29:9

   2 Chronicles

   [152]7:17

   Job

   [153]22:22   [154]22:26   [155]26:5

   Psalms

   [156]1:2   [157]2:8   [158]6:5   [159]16:10   [160]18:49   [161]29:11
   [162]49:15   [163]49:15-17   [164]67:2   [165]72:8-10   [166]81:13
   [167]81:14   [168]86:9   [169]86:10   [170]88:10-13   [171]96:7
   [172]96:10   [173]102:15   [174]112:1   [175]115:17   [176]117:1
   [177]119:24   [178]119:35   [179]119:70   [180]119:121

   Proverbs

   [181]1:7   [182]3:5   [183]3:12   [184]3:13-15   [185]3:18
   [186]3:22-24   [187]3:34   [188]4:23   [189]6:25   [190]8:17
   [191]8:35   [192]11:2   [193]15:24   [194]15:24   [195]16:1-33
   [196]16:18   [197]16:33   [198]18:12   [199]18:18   [200]23:26
   [201]27:2   [202]28:1-28   [203]29:23

   Ecclesiastes

   [204]12:7   [205]12:13

   Isaiah

   [206]2:2-4   [207]11:2   [208]11:3   [209]11:10-12   [210]25:6-8
   [211]38:18   [212]42:1   [213]42:6   [214]45:20   [215]45:22
   [216]45:23   [217]49:6   [218]52:15   [219]54:3   [220]55:5
   [221]60:1-22   [222]61:11   [223]62:2   [224]65:1   [225]66:18-20

   Jeremiah

   [226]4:2   [227]7:23   [228]16:19

   Joel

   [229]3:1

   Amos

   [230]9:11   [231]9:12

   Micah

   [232]4:1-3

   Haggai

   [233]2:7

   Zechariah

   [234]2:11   [235]6:15   [236]8:20-22   [237]14:16

   Malachi

   [238]1:11   [239]2:15

   Matthew

   [240]5:5   [241]5:31   [242]7:21   [243]7:24-26   [244]19:8
   [245]19:21

   John

   [246]5   [247]8:56   [248]10:27   [249]13:17   [250]15:1-3

   Romans

   [251]1:18-20   [252]1:21-23   [253]1:27   [254]2:13   [255]7:22-24

   1 Corinthians

   [256]13:2   [257]15:33

   Philippians

   [258]4:8

   Colossians

   [259]1:4-10   [260]1:9   [261]2   [262]2   [263]1614   [264]1729

   1 Timothy

   [265]2:4

   2 Timothy

   [266]3:14-16

   Titus

   [267]1:1   [268]2:12

   James

   [269]1:22-24   [270]2:14-16

   2 Peter

   [271]1:19

   1 John

   [272]2:4

   Revelation

   [273]3:11

   Judith

   [274]9:2-4

   Sirach

   [275]2:24   [276]3:16   [277]3:17   [278]3:33   [279]7:1-36
   [280]8:1-3   [281]8:1-19   [282]8:6   [283]8:7   [284]8:19
   [285]8:20   [286]9:1-18   [287]9:15   [288]9:30-32   [289]12:1-18
   [290]12:10-12   [291]13:1-3   [292]13:1-26   [293]14:14-16
   [294]15:15-17   [295]17:18-20   [296]25:10   [297]25:32
   [298]29:15-17   [299]30:6   [300]32:27   [301]33:25   [302]35:23
   [303]37:17   [304]41:8-10   [305]42:6   [306]42:7   [307]49:15
   [308]49:16   [309]51:18-20
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Greek Words and Phrases

     * andria: [310]1
     * apoklinein: [311]1
     * atopon: [312]1
     * energeia: [313]1
     * exis: [314]1
     * ezo: [315]1
     * ethos: [316]1
     * hedone: [317]1
     * ethe: [318]1
     * ethos: [319]1 [320]2
     * orthos logos: [321]1
     * homologia: [322]1
     * horme: [323]1
     * hosiotes: [324]1
     * Hupotuposeis: [325]1
     * Eudemia: [326]1
     * Kephalaia peri agapes: [327]1
     * Ta eis eauton: [328]1
     * andreia: [329]1
     * arete dianoetike: [330]1
     * gnothi seauton: [331]1
     * dikaios: [332]1
     * eis eauton: [333]1
     * eutrapelia: [334]1
     * eudaimonia: [335]1
     * zoes teleias energeia: [336]1
     * ethike: [337]1
     * thumos: [338]1
     * kata de toiouton ouk esti nomos, autoi gar eisi nomos: [339]1
     * me on: [340]1
     * megala: [341]1
     * megaloprepeia: [342]1
     * megalopsuchia: [343]1
     * mesotes: [344]1
     * me on: [345]1
     * nomimos: [346]1
     * ouk on: [347]1
     * peperomenon: [348]1
     * pephukotes archesthai: [349]1
     * praotes: [350]1
     * sophia: [351]1 [352]2
     * sophrosune: [353]1 [354]2
     * to kathekon, to kalon: [355]1
     * to kata phusin: [356]1
     * toleion: [357]1
     * to agathon: [358]1
     * to en ekasto ton anthropon phaulon: [359]1
     * to bouleutikon: [360]1
     * to telos: [361]1
     * phoberotaton ho thanatos: [362]1
     * phronesis: [363]1
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Latin Words and Phrases

     * FIDES: [364]1
     * à priori: [365]1 [366]2 [367]3
     * CHARITAS : [368]1
     * Conseuetudo absque advertentia letale peccatum non facit: [369]1
     * Is, qui ex necessitate vel aliqua utilitate offert se ad jurandum
       nemine petente, potest uti amphibologiis, nam habet justam causam
       iis utendi: [370]1
     * Per se: [371]1
     * Quia ex opinionum varietate jugum Christi suavita sustinetur:
       [372]1
     * Quis dives salvetur.: [373]1
     * Quum sit domina sua integritatis virginalis: [374]1
     * SPES : [375]1
     * Summa casuum: [376]1
     * TEMPERANTIA: [377]1
     * amor convertit amantem in rem amatam: [378]1
     * approbatio: [379]1
     * canones: [380]1
     * casus conscientiae: [381]1
     * causa non libera, sed coacta: [382]1
     * clericus regularis: [383]1
     * cogitatio: [384]1
     * concupiscentia: [385]1 [386]2
     * contemplatio: [387]1
     * convenienter naturae vivere: [388]1
     * convenientia: [389]1
     * credere : [390]1 [391]2 [392]3
     * dicta: [393]1
     * doctor gravis et probus: [394]1
     * eadem desistente: [395]1
     * eficaciter: [396]1
     * ego: [397]1
     * ens: [398]1
     * ex aliqua justa causa: [399]1
     * fides formata: [400]1
     * fides, spes, charitas: [401]1
     * generositas: [402]1
     * gracia assistente: [403]1
     * habitus: [404]1
     * honestum: [405]1 [406]2 [407]3
     * informis: [408]1
     * infusae: [409]1
     * intentio: [410]1 [411]2
     * ipso facto: [412]1
     * jurisprudentia divina: [413]1
     * justitia, fortitudo: [414]1
     * libri poenitentiales: [415]1
     * licet tenuiter et exiliter: [416]1
     * malum culpae: [417]1 [418]2
     * malum metaphysicum: [419]1
     * malum poenae: [420]1
     * meditatio: [421]1
     * memento mori: [422]1
     * mendacium officiosum: [423]1
     * meritum condigni: [424]1
     * modus operandi: [425]1
     * mores: [426]1
     * natura rerum: [427]1
     * non posse non peccare: [428]1
     * non posse peccare: [429]1
     * nota bene: [430]1
     * obedientiae servitus: [431]1
     * omnia sunt ex necessitate naturae divinae determinata: [432]1
     * opera supererogatoria: [433]1
     * ordo amoris: [434]1
     * peccata commissionis et omissionis: [435]1
     * peccata cordis, oris, operis: [436]1
     * peccata venalia et mortalia: [437]1
     * peccata venalia et mortifera s. mortalia: [438]1
     * peccatum originarium: [439]1
     * per se: [440]1 [441]2 [442]3 [443]4 [444]5 [445]6 [446]7 [447]8
       [448]9 [449]10 [450]11 [451]12 [452]13 [453]14 [454]15 [455]16
       [456]17 [457]18 [458]19 [459]20 [460]21 [461]22 [462]23 [463]24
       [464]25 [465]26 [466]27 [467]28 [468]29 [469]30 [470]31 [471]32
       [472]33 [473]34 [474]35 [475]36 [476]37 [477]38 [478]39 [479]40
       [480]41 [481]42 [482]43 [483]44 [484]45 [485]46 [486]47 [487]48
       [488]49 [489]50 [490]51 [491]52 [492]53 [493]54 [494]55 [495]56
       [496]57 [497]58 [498]59 [499]60 [500]61 [501]62 [502]63 [503]64
       [504]65 [505]66 [506]67 [507]68 [508]69 [509]70 [510]71 [511]72
       [512]73 [513]74 [514]75 [515]76 [516]77 [517]78 [518]79 [519]80
       [520]81 [521]82 [522]83 [523]84 [524]85 [525]86 [526]87 [527]88
       [528]89 [529]90 [530]91 [531]92 [532]93 [533]94 [534]95 [535]96
       [536]97 [537]98 [538]99 [539]100 [540]101 [541]102 [542]103
       [543]104 [544]105 [545]106 [546]107 [547]108 [548]109
     * philosophia moralis: [549]1
     * poterat peccare et not peccare: [550]1
     * potest peccare et non potest non peccare: [551]1
     * prudentia: [552]1
     * quatenus: [553]1
     * ratio practica: [554]1
     * reservationes mentales: [555]1
     * restrictio s. reservatio mentalis: [556]1
     * restrictiones mentales: [557]1
     * sententia probabilis: [558]1
     * sententiae: [559]1
     * si forte haec illi favorabilior seu exoptatior sit: [560]1
     * sobrietas: [561]1
     * summa voluptate perlegi: [562]1
     * tabula rasa: [563]1
     * temperantia: [564]1
     * theologia s. philosophia moralis: [565]1
     * theologia s. philosophia practica: [566]1
     * utile: [567]1 [568]2 [569]3
     * virtus nihil aliud est, quam ex legibus propriae naturae agere:
       [570]1
     * virtutes cardinales: [571]1
     * virtutes principales: [572]1
     * virtutes principales vel cardinales: [573]1
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of German Words and Phrases

     * Anweisung vernünftig zu leben: [574]1
     * Moralische Vorlesungen: [575]1
     * Sittenlehre: [576]1
     * attentat: [577]1
     * attentats: [578]1
     * moralität: [579]1
     * sittlichkeit: [580]1
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Pages of the Print Edition

   [581]i  [582]ii  [583]iii  [584]iv  [585]v  [586]vi  [587]vii
   [588]viii  [589]ix  [590]x  [591]xi  [592]xii  [593]xiii  [594]xov
   [595]1  [596]2  [597]3  [598]4  [599]5  [600]6  [601]7  [602]8  [603]9
   [604]10  [605]11  [606]12  [607]13  [608]14  [609]15  [610]16  [611]17
   [612]18  [613]19  [614]20  [615]21  [616]22  [617]23  [618]24  [619]25
   [620]26  [621]27  [622]28  [623]29  [624]30  [625]31  [626]32  [627]33
   [628]34  [629]35  [630]36  [631]37  [632]38  [633]39  [634]40  [635]41
   [636]42  [637]43  [638]44  [639]45  [640]46  [641]47  [642]48  [643]49
   [644]50  [645]51  [646]52  [647]53  [648]54  [649]55  [650]56  [651]57
   [652]58  [653]59  [654]60  [655]61  [656]62  [657]63  [658]64  [659]65
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   [734]140  [735]141  [736]142  [737]143  [738]144  [739]145  [740]146
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   [748]154  [749]155  [750]156  [751]157  [752]158  [753]159  [754]160
   [755]161  [756]162  [757]163  [758]164  [759]165  [760]166  [761]167
   [762]168  [763]169  [764]170  [765]171  [766]172  [767]173  [768]174
   [769]175  [770]176  [771]177  [772]178  [773]179  [774]180  [775]181
   [776]182  [777]183  [778]184  [779]185  [780]186  [781]187  [782]188
   [783]189  [784]190  [785]191  [786]192  [787]193  [788]194  [789]195
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   [825]231  [826]232  [827]233  [828]234  [829]235  [830]236  [831]237
   [832]238  [833]239  [834]240  [835]241  [836]242  [837]244  [838]245
   [839]246  [840]247  [841]248  [842]249  [843]250  [844]251  [845]252
   [846]253  [847]254  [848]255  [849]256  [850]257  [851]258  [852]259
   [853]260  [854]261  [855]262  [856]263  [857]264  [858]265  [859]266
   [860]267  [861]268  [862]269  [863]270  [864]271  [865]272  [866]273
   [867]274  [868]275  [869]276  [870]277  [871]278  [872]279  [873]280
   [874]281  [875]282  [876]283  [877]284  [878]285  [879]286  [880]287
   [881]288  [882]289  [883]290  [884]291  [885]292  [886]293  [887]294
   [888]295  [889]296  [890]297  [891]298  [892]299  [893]300  [894]301
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   [909]316  [910]317  [911]318  [912]319  [913]320  [914]321  [915]322
   [916]323  [917]324  [918]325  [919]326  [920]327  [921]328  [922]329
   [923]330  [924]331  [925]332  [926]333  [927]334  [928]335  [929]336
   [930]337  [931]338  [932]339  [933]340  [934]341  [935]342  [936]343
   [937]344  [938]345  [939]346  [940]347  [941]348  [942]349  [943]350
   [944]351  [945]352  [946]353  [947]354  [948]355  [949]356  [950]357
   [951]358  [952]359  [953]360  [954]361  [955]362  [956]363  [957]364
   [958]365  [959]366  [960]367  [961]368  [962]369  [963]370  [964]371
   [965]372  [966]373  [967]374  [968]375  [969]376  [970]377  [971]378
     __________________________________________________________________

            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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